Omaha Marathon 2008 Part 2: The Buildup

(“Welcome back! In my last post I talked about the bus ride out and the first night in Omaha.” “A real party town, eh?” “Don’t knock it: Larry the Cable Guy was in concert at the Qwest Center, and Jessica Simpson played on Saturday.” “Oooh. And the marathon?” “A huge blaze of no publicity at all.”)

We had agreed to meet at the Hampton for breakfast on Saturday morning. This actually worked out well, since the Hampton had a bigger space than the Fairfield, so we were all able to sit more or less together (“Forcing all the non-Denver-based hotel guests to stand?” “No, but the certainly kept their distance. We’re an intimidating group, especially Tara when there’s waffles on the line.” “Pretty territorial, eh?” “Yep. Try to get in on that and you’re asking for it.”).

After breakfast we visited the Race Expo, which was set up in a large conference room at InPlay, an Entertainment Center next door to the Fairfield (“Wrong side of the tracks, right?” “Well, the Qwest Center was still full of River City Roundup stuff.” “River City? Isn’t that in Iowa?”). As race expos go, it wasn’t a huge affair. But we were able to get our shirts, race bibs, and timing chips, as well as some other goodies. At 11:00 about a dozen of us took a bus tour of the course—sort of. Between street closures for the Roundup parade, street closures due to construction, and one-way streets going the wrong way, it was a somewhat circuitous tour of the course (“We got held up en route to the start because we were caught behind the parade.” “At least the parade wasn’t following the same course.” “Then, at one point near the Henry Doorly Zoo, we were going down the street in the opposite direction the marathon would take.” “What was that like?” “It was nice, for once, to be going up a hill and be able to think, ‘It’s all downhill from here.’”).

After the course tour we returned to the Hampton Inn (“This place is quickly becoming Runner’s Edge Central!”), to regroup before lunch. My dad joined us there, along with my sister. In fact, the two of them made it to the Hampton before I did, and spent some time talking with Jill and some of the other Runner’s Edge folks (“So now Jill knows all your secrets.” “Yes, and unfortunately, so does my Dad.”). We walked down to the Old Mattress Factory Bar and Grill for lunch; but due to their No Dogs Allowed policy my sister couldn’t join us (“Relax, folks. He means, because she had her puppy with her.” EDITOR’S NOTE: This joke pre-approved by Dr Tisdale, MD).

Then, after a tasty lunch, it was back to the hotel for some reading and a nap before the prerace pasta dinner. Several of us thought that four o’clock was awfully early to have a prerace dinner, but there you have it. The guest speaker, Jerry Dunn, was scheduled to talk at 4:15 (“I was certain that was a misprint: they had to have meant, dinner was at 4 and the speech would be at 5:15. That way people could eat and then digest during the speech.” “Was that the way it was?” “Nope.”). However, I cannot tell you what his speech was about, because I didn’t hear a word of it. Since he was speaking at 4:15, he was dealing with the crowd noise, as people arrived, found their seats (or tried to), and made for the buffet line. Between that and a less-than-stellar sound system, I’m afraid it was pretty much a lost cause.

Actually, I ducked out of the diner shortly after arriving. A number of my teammates were already there and trying to eat, but the food was less than amazing (“Rose took one bite and proclaimed it the worst food she’d ever tasted.” “Wow, that’s harsh.” “But she was awfully fond of the ice cream…”). So instead, my dad and sister and I drove to Omaha Prime, where I had a fantastic filet mignon (“Thanks for the free dinner, Dad!” “Wait…wasn’t the pasta dinner included with your registration? That was a free meal, too.” “Maybe, but not nearly as nice.”). I also enjoyed the chance to have some quality time with my family. They did come all this way to see me, and that meant an awful lot to me (“What about everybody else?” “As it turns out, everyone else decided to blow off the dinner. They all went to the Spaghetti Works for an all-you-can-eat.” “Good choice!”). Then, after dinner, we took a walk around Old Market (“A walk? Wouldn’t you want to spend as much time as possible off your feet, seeing as how you were running a marathon the next day?” “I tried to tell them that…”). Then it was back to the hotel for sleep. Of course, I was still pretty wired, so sleep didn’t come easily. I think I finally went down for the count about 10:00.

I woke up at 3:00, two hours before I’d planned on it, and drifted in and out until the alarm went off. Randy had taken a “belts-and-suspenders” approach, and within 30 seconds of the clock alarm, our wake-up call rang through (“There’s nothing wrong with a belts-and-suspenders approach.” “Unless you’re talking about actual belts and suspenders, which just looks silly.”). I turned on the news while we got ready: not a single mention of the marathon, although the Huskers’ loss to VA Tech was big news (“Don’t sound surprised. It’s Nebraska. The stadium is the third largest city on gameday. Football’s all they have.” “I hear they have corn, too.”). Nothing daunted, we made our way to the Hampton to meet up with everybody and caravan over to the race start (“Is it a caravan if you’re on foot?” “More a parade, I guess, but we didn’t have music.”). Dad and Sara were there, along with Sara’s puppy Persephone. While my family went in search of coffee, I went in search of a portajohn that didn’t have a fifty-person line (“Did you find it?” “Eventually, yes. Randy and I made our way towards the finish area and found about half a dozen with only a few people waiting.” “How long did that last?” “Maybe 20 seconds after we left.”).

After one last “Good luck!” to everyone on the team, I made my way to the 4:30 pace group. I was ready. I felt confident. I’d trained hard for the last 15 weeks. Victory was in my grasp, I could taste it. I had family and friends to support me. I had my Garmin, my shades, my lucky shirt and socks, my gels, and my Star Wars (“You are such a dork.”). The National Anthem played. Then, the starting pistol was fired and I was off!

Next: the race!