Well, even though my thighs won’t let me forget it, it’s been 2 days since the marathon and lets just say I’ve had some time to reflect. Even though I did not finish in the time I wanted to…I still FINISHED…despite the weather, despite the lack of water, despite the jetlag, despite the fear of dehydration, despite the moments of desperation thinking I would literally have to walk off the race. I was in the last group (the expected 4h30 finishers) to start the race; therefore, unlike Lumpy and Sally who started the race a bit earlier, my moment of desperation started at the very 1st water station a mere 3 miles into the race when already THERE WAS NO WATER.
If you want to learn how to curse in about 20 different languages, all you have to do is hang out at the 1st 
water station of the Paris Marathon April 15, 2007 and listen to the marathon runners being told that there is NO WATER, that it has “run out”. How can this be possible? It’s only been 3 miles? It was unusually hot for the season. Runners got desperate, some (that were smart enough to carry money with them) immediately ran into nearby tabac stores to buy bottled water,  others were desperate enough to pick up half used water bottles from the street. This is when I started to panic. I’m from Texas, I can handle the heat, but NOT WITHOUT WATER!!! I did not carry any money with me, I could not bring my self to pick up used water bottles from the street, and I wasn’t expecting to see Banana and Old Uncle Brad (our support crew) in the crowd until somewhere along mile 15. This wasn’t going to be good.
Continue reading ‘Veni, Vidi, Vinci…yes, it’s Latin, but it still applies.’
Or, why I hate Paris, the Paris Marathon, and everything else for good measure.
