Marine Corps Marathon 2009, Spectating Part II

Marathon day dawned bright, cold, and clear.

In all the time we spent together on Saturday, I cleverly made sure never to ask Dianna what she'd be wearing. I guessed something orange (she is the running chick with the ORANGE hat, after all).

More fail.

I climbed up out of Smithsonian Metro station just past mile marker 19, hoping I hadn't missed her, and taking a wild guess that she'd be wearing something orange. At least I had the foresight to ask her what pace she'd be running: 8:30s.

As the crowd streamed by I asked a few marathoners what pace they were running, and pretty much every one of them looked at me like I was nuts and said, "Don't know." (I guess I forgot that you can't answer questions while running a marathon.)

I asked the spectators if they knew what pace these folks were at. No one knew. But on one of those occasions as I was busily chatting up spectators, my back turned to the streaming crow of marathoners someone yelled out, "There goes the 3:30 pacer!"

Dianna was on track for 3:40.

Sure enough, like clockwork, a few seconds later, she saw me.

Yes, she saw ME, and called my name!

We rushed toward each other, gave a quick hug and she was off. And

More fail.

I hurried back onto the Metro, joined the throng and headed for the finish. It took forever to get there, but I fought my way through with minutes to spare. I took up my post at what I thought was around 25.5, and decided to start taking pix to test my readiness,









I am so ready!

Very soon, Dianna approached. I tried the old running backwards—at an 8:30 min mile—while talking and snapping photos. I think you can guess what happened. But just in case you are in ANY doubt...





Sigh.

Turns out I was much closer to the finish, a brutal bit just past mile 26 that is straight uphill. I heard the announcer call Dianna's name. We soon caught up with each other and I asked her if she made Boston. She had! But she was in a world of pain. You can read all about it here.

I took some more crappy photos at the end. Unless you were a stranger and then? Perfection!

If you'd like to contribute to my camera fund, or maybe to the send the photographer to photogaphy school fund, you know where to find me!

It was a fabulous weekend, and I don't know how I manage to know so many fast runners. I enjoy basking in reflected glory, I guess!

Marine Corps Marathon 2009, Spectating Part 1

Last weekend was a whirlwind.

My bloggy (and now real-life) friend, Dianna, was coming into town to BQ at the MCM (I love it when I talk like that) and I was lucky enough to watch her do it.

I'd met Dianna (aka the running chick with the orange hat) in the flesh only once before, when she ran Boston in 2007, like this:
I think this was around mile 9

And prior to that, I had only talked to her once, as I was slogging through mile 21 of the 2006 Marine Corps Marathon, when Susie handed me the phone and Dianna wished me well and I blubbered back, "I love you!"

So it's not like she went into this thing blind!

Dianna was staying in Crystal City (Arlington, Va.), near Number One Daughter's domicile. I decided to spend the night at NOD's place so it would be easy to meet up with Dianna on Saturday morning and get to the race expo early. (Also gave me the excuse I've been waiting for to spy on spend the night at NOD's. Turns out? NOD is ridiculously neat and organized. The apple apparently does fall far...) Anywho, I had to get 7 miles in on Saturday morning, so resorted to using the treadmill in NOD's exercise room at 6 a.m.

Whoa.

<sidebar>
I kind of forgot how utterly totally miserable 7 miles on a treadmill, in a windowless, airless soul-sapping mirrored exercise room, with some horrible Britney Spear-like videos blaring from the TV, can be. After 1 mile I was swimming in sweat. I could feel the skin rubbing off certain tender parts of my body. HAVE I MENTIONED BEFORE HOW MUCH I HATE RUNNING?
</sidebar>

God knows how, but I hung in there, 7 miles all told in 1:20 (11:30 min. miles). My biz done, I washed up, suited up and met Dianna at Pentagon City metro at 8:30 a.m.

I was full of warnings about lines wrapping around the block. Instead, we got there and waltzed right through packet pickup. So much for having the inside poop.

I had, however, cleverly brought NOD's camera with me, instead of my old utterly reliable one, because her's is compact and you can drop it and it won't break. I was going to document Dianna within an inch of her life.

And...fail.

Here's my BEST SHOT of the Expo experience:


Although this isn't too bad:


Pretty funny:


Where's Dianna, you ask??

Um.

Right.

How about some sexy Marines, at least??

Errr..

Well, we left the Expo and went on our merry way. First order of business, score some crack:
Chinatown's (D.C.) Starbucks

We toyed with going to the Spy Museum (if you're ever in D.C., definitely go, it's worth every penny), but decided to stay low key and headed instead to the free Smithsonian American Art Museum, where we fooled around in this excellent exhibition. (It never ceases to amaze me how little I take advantage of this city's abundance. Thank God for friends coming to town to pull me off my couch of doom.)

We had some fun there. I took some more excellent photos of inanimate objects:
This is an amazing piece of folk art--an altar composed entirely of tin foil!

Next, we met up with Dianna's travel companions (her friend K was running MCM, and had her husband and two adorable kiddies with her) for lunch, which I conscientiously chronicled thusly:

Kids: one is a boy and one is a girl.

Dianna. I think.

It was right about here that I noticed that just possibly, something was wrong with the camera...

Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion!