Hillbilly Rock

I figured since Rt 66 didn't go so hot I would sign up for another marathon to make up for it. I would run like the wind, possibly accidentally qualify for Boston, and thus feel vindicated. Course we've been over my opinion of running in the cold so we gotta wait for something that qualifies as spring time. Thus I get signed up to the tune of eighty bucks. I'm workin on the training and it's looking rosey. Then the doc wants to cut my gizzard out and sideline me for a couple weeks. I think he missed the part where I spent eighty bucks. Hey doc when I need money I can't just tell someone they need to ditch a spare part like you can. So five and a half weeks later it's no longer about vindication it's about survival. Being the sporting sort though I hop in the car with Roman and Kathy and it's off too Little Rock. Okay maybe it's about the big medal.

I though they put on a pretty nice event. Apparently so did some several thousand other people cuz there was a bunch of em. Tulsa was quite well represented by the runners world types. On a more somber note we did however see one Globo Gymer coming outta the hotel.
So at this point I'm kinda wondering if I should be doing this.

But one should not worry. I have a lot of family hailing from Arkansas. That's how I know they are good people over there. Sure enough they showed good form, and in my darkest hour they bolstered a stranger with...

...supportive words of encouragement. How could I possibly fail.









So I start plodding along following a kimish ponytail that's doing a fair job of navigating the walkers for a mile or two. Turns out to be April yet another RW runner. I know you people who do this all the time are probably used to seeing familiar faces in faraway races but it seems weird to me somehow.

So back and forth through downtown we go. I gotta say the main entrance to their areana has the BOK beat. The view from all other angles however makes our roll of duct tape look pretty good I thought. Also the Sugarbaker house is there in Little Rock. So this half through downtown is not so bad. The inclines are pretty mild and I'm feeling good and not going too fast.

We head around the capital building and into the second half and things start getting fun. Finally a real hill. It's a fairly good sized one and long too. It's hard but I'm thinking hey this will just make me tougher. Sure enough I get to the top and level out thinking what a sense of pride and accomplishment I can feel now. I round the next bend and the road contiues uphill again. Yes a two part hill. Now this is why I came to Little Rock! Pretty steep too. At the top is an interesting neighborhood. I'm thinking maybe this must be the Knob Hill area I heard about. Around the corner and we continue uphill again. And that is how it went for like the next HOUR! Running up a hill one segment at a time. I like the hills but it got a little frustrating not knowing where the freakin top is. Thought that was rough, but nothing compared to the next segment. The flat out and back. This truly sucked. At first it wasn't so bad.



You got to check out the hotties from Tulsa who are sickeningly faster than you. As well as the shirtless and not quite sassy dude. But you run thinking is that the turn around up ahead. I can answer that for you. No it's not, get over it. So you run some more. The entire time thinking I could make it back to downtown if they would just let me turn around here. When ya think that ya still got a mile to go to the turn around. Boring and long. Period.


Once that's over with ya head back into downtown. Three or four miles no problem. I'm a Tuesday run away from rest. As ya head into town you have to cross a bridge. Just before the bridge God is gonna send you an angel in a green tartan. (that's like a kilt for you lay people). As I run up, he's standing next to a table with a cup in his hands. Like a slow motion dream you notice his lips move. The ear buds keep ya from hearing the sound... but something seems familiar. A voice in your exhaustion muddled head says you need to hear what he has to say. As you pull the headphones off and the sights and sounds of the outside world come rushing back to your senses just in time for his beautiful baritone to repeat itself... BEER!? I had given up on that concept by mile 8. I take it. Drink it. Tell him I am considering kissing him full on the mouth. He gave me a second beer. I'm gonna make it. Cross the finish at 5:29:37 with a chip time of 5:24:36

Guess which two of these marathoners have had a shower at this point.


















Miles for the week - 26.2

Globo Gymers - 1