Bonus points if they had magically known to pick up a pint of local Mitchell’s Ice Cream Campfire S’mores flavor. (Technically, that particular seasonal variety doesn’t come out until later in the summer, hence why they’d need to be magical.)
But, of course, there was no air-conditioned car and there was no roasted marshmallow ice cream with chocolate chunks and homemade graham cracker pieces.
There was just me. Limping along the longest four fucking miles of my entire fucking life.
I was officially fucking done with this entire fucking thing.
But, see, the thing is, the only thing I hated more than those four miles was the idea of leaving this race unfinished. A DNF—a Did Not Finish—was not a part of my half marathon training plan and with less than a mile to go there was no way in hell I was actually going to quit now.
Hobbling my way down the exit ramp, I spotted my cousin Michele and her daughter Katy waiting for me. As soon as Michele saw me, she jumped off the barrier she’d been using as a chair and started leaping into the air, cheering, with her arms raised high above her. With every jump, she’d spread her legs out and do big ol’ circles with her arms. As if she was afraid I somehow wouldn’t see her otherwise.
Which, granted, she’s incredibly petite, but I had no idea she could be so loud for having such a tiny body.
(Vocal volume is a bit of a family trait, not gonna lie.)
It was, admittedly, a bit mortifying. (LOVE YOU, MICHELE!) This particular half marathon was going to take me over four hours to complete and by that time there was almost nobody left on the half marathon course. All the other spectators were there for the full marathon runners. The respectability of finishing a half marathon in four hours versus a full marathon in 4 hours is vastly different. A 4-hour marathon is damn impressive. A 4-hour half marathon, not so much.
How dare I call myself a runner.
Then there’s my cousin, a pretty decent runner herself, with multiple marathons behind her, completely unable to contain her excitement at getting to see me cross the finish line.
I was so exhausted and so ready to just be fucking done with this whole stupid thing, it hadn’t really sunk it quite yet what I was about to do, which was complete my second half marathon.
With both Michele and Katy now cheering for me, I picked up my pace as fast as my poor feet would allow. I’d like to say I ran. I didn’t. Nor would I even use the dreaded “J” word and say I jogged. This was more of a … shuffle.
But shuffle I did. One foot in front of the other, slowly (oh so slowly) but surely. It hurt and those bandages I so carefully put on that morning where all rubbed off by the time I got home, but step by step I made it to that finish line and I crossed it.
In the end, I completed my second half marathon with an average pace of 19 minutes and 17 seconds. It took me 4 hours, 12 minutes, and 38 seconds to finish those 13.1 miles.
But I fucking finished.
My half marathon tattoo against the Cleveland skyline.
Veteran’s Memorial Stadium. The girl who walked the mile in high school is running on the track as an adult! August 2012.
Next Step Run for Shelter 5K. I won the “Extra Mile Award” for raising the most money at the race. My 41:33 finish time is still my 5K PR. November 2012.
Rock ‘N’ Roll Cleveland Half Marathon. I am now a HALF-MARATHONER! October 2013.
A Christmas Story 10K. Check out those running leg lamps on the race bib. December 2013.
A Christmas Story 10K. My dad and I after I finished A Christmas Story 10K. Look at me dressed as the Pink Nightmare with the bunny ears! December 2013.
Rite Aid Cleveland Half Marathon. Walking down the Cleveland Shoreway ramp thanks to hurting my ankle at Mile Nine. May 2014.
Rite Aid Cleveland Half Marathon. The Cleveland Marathon Ambassadors doing a pre-race photo op. May 2015.
Running the Bridges. It’s not last place—it’s running with a police escort. November 2014.
Running the Bridges. My boyfriend Ben and I after I finished last at the Running the Bridges race. The Batman costume held up! November 2014.
Cleveland 10 Miler. Finishing the Cleveland 10 Miler at my beloved Edgewater Park. April 2015.
Rite Aid Cleveland Marathon weekend. The Cleveland Marathon Ambassadors at the VIP Reception. Look carefully and you can spot my air cast for my injured ankle. May 2016.
Shawshank Hustle. My dad and I in front of the old Ohio State Reformatory, filming location for The Shawshank Redemption. July 2015.
FitBloggin 2015. Presenting my Ignite! Fitness presentation at the FitBloggin 2015 conference in Denver, Colorado. July 2015. Photo Credit: Carrie D. Photography.
Akron Marathon Relay. The Tortoise and the Hares: Andrew, Me, Dan, Stephanie, and Melissa. September 2015. Photo Credit: Melissa Koski.
The Great Beer Chase 5K. After finishing the Great Beer Chase 5K, I had to pose in front of the Great Lakes Brewing Company wall. October 2015.
The Bernie Shuffle. Will Run for Bling. November 2014.
The Bernie Shuffle. Bernie Kosar and his fans at the start of the race. November 2014.
Cleveland Turkey Trot. Lackluster finish line at the Turkey Trot in November 2015.
St. Malachi 2-Miler. A sea of green crossing the Detroit-Superior Bridge. March 2016.
A Christmas Story 10K. Christmas Story House in the Tremont neighborhood, all decorated for the race. Lots of pink bunnies on the course. December 2015.
11
Will Run For Bling
Signing up for an 8 a.m. race on November 1 sounded good in theory, up until that panicked moment when I realized that it meant Halloween, my absolute favorite holiday ever, was not only the night before, but was also a rare year where the actual holiday lines up with a weekend.
When it comes to Halloween, I tend to go a bit extreme. Exhibit A: my birthday is in mid-November and one year during high school I decided I didn’t want a birthday party but, instead, wanted a Halloween party. At sixteen, I had recently discovered the magic and mayhem that is The Rocky Horror Picture Show and not only did I dress up as the domestic Magenta, but at my Halloween party I made all of my friends dance the Time Warp. (As it happens, they were all more than happy to oblige, which explains why we are still all friends to this day.)
For me, Halloween is a serious endeavor: costumes are planned and worked on months in advance. I also have feelings when it comes to celebrating on any day beyond October 31, which means years when Halloween falls on a Thursday are challenging. Do I dress up and choose to paint the town black and orange a full week before? Or do I go for the weekend closest to the holiday, even if means celebrating in November?
The last day of October in 2014 was a Friday and my friends and I—All Hallows Eve aficionados all—had been strategizing our group costume since early summer. Because, for us, Halloween is not just an evening to stick some cheap devil horns on your head and throw on a red dress and call it a night. Halloween is an event for us.
We had plans, you see. Big plans with big costumes. Costumes that involved papier-mâché and do-it-yourself and illusions. Plans and costumes that did not work well with an 8 a.m. 5K the next morning.
My decision to register for the Bernie Kosar 5K came on the heels of the Rock ‘N’ Roll Marathon series decision to cancel the 2014 Cleveland races. Which came on the heels of my completely and utterly losing my running mojo.
My second half marathon back in May did not go well. Like, at all. The thing was, that wasn’t even supposed to be my second half marathon but then I won the entry and, well, I can totally run two half marathons in a single year, right?
I ran the Cleveland Half in May but after that experience pretty much wanted to quit running altogether. But then I won another free entry to a race a couple weeks later, this time the Copper River Salmon 5K. I went in with zero expectations, didn’t worry about time or pace and it ended up being just what I needed to make up for the Cleveland Half.
Then July came and I needed
to start training for the Run Rock ‘N’ Roll Half. In the beginning, I was all for it—this would be my comeback story! Redemption Road Racing! It was going to be great.
Except it wasn’t. The training was horrible. I felt horrible. I had to force myself to complete every single workout; it was just awful. So then, about a month into my training I decided to drop from the half marathon to the 10K.
So when, in early September 2014, about one month before race day, when the RnR organization full on cancelled the entire Cleveland races, I was more than a little upset. Had I still been planning on running the half marathon I would no doubt have been relieved by this change in situation, but I was looking forward to the 10K. Now I had nothing to look forward to. I felt like all that training was for naught.
Because it’s such a big organization, with lots of “tour stops” along the way, transfers were allowed. They even connected with the main Rite Aid Cleveland Marathon organization and allowed transfers into one of those races.
But, they also gave refunds. Which is how I ended up with enough extra moola to justify signing up for the Bernie Shuffle 5K, so named in honor of one of Cleveland’s more memorable NFL figures.
Sports? Not really my thing. Of course, I also live in Cleveland. Sports in this city are fraught with tension. Titles not won, game after game, the mantra of There’s always next year echoing throughout each stadium at the end of another season. There was always next year, fifty-two years’ worth of next years, and while LeBron & Co. brought the championship home in 2016, at the time of the Bernie Shuffle 5K, we were still several years away from breaking the Cleveland Curse.
It wasn’t all bad. We’ve had our moments. The Indians back in the 1990s and the Cavs, of course. The Browns, however …
There have been a small handful of men to come out of their time in the Browns camp as local heroes. The one whose legacy has lasted the longest is Bernie Kosar, who played for the Browns from 1985 until 1993. It was this Bernie that was the namesake for the Bernie Shuffle, a 5K to be held on November 1, 2014. Which, again, made sense at that time. Up until I looked at my calendar, that is.
(Course maps. Calendars. I really have to work on those.)
Novelty races often come with hefty swag, which in turn creates a hefty registration fee. Usually I am not one to fork over $45 for a mere 5K, especially one that is considered a “fun run” and untimed. But in the case of the Bernie Kosar 5K I could not get over the Herculean, super sparkly, super shiny finisher’s medal. When this race was first announced I found myself staring in awe at the medal but, at the time, could not make my bank account work with it.
Now, though, money in hand, I wanted that medallion. I coveted that medallion. I HAD TO HAVE THAT MEDALLION. That super sparkly, super shiny behemoth needed to join the other medals hanging from the rack in my living room. It would be the center, my showcase piece.
But I also wanted to go out on Halloween and enjoy myself and flaunt the obscene amount of man-hours that went into my costume without worrying about getting home early enough to be rested for a 5K the next morning.
All week I waffled, knowing my decision to run would be a game day decision. Which seemed fitting, considering this was a race theme based on an NFL sports franchise.
On Friday, October 31, I went out with my friends as Halloween-ified as I could get. Despite the weekend date on the calendar, not many people were out in their costumes, so we tended to be the freak group of folks at the bar dressed up. (And I mean “freak” literally—our group costume for the year was sideshow carnival acts. I was the legless woman, being carried around by my assistant. I gave him a name and everything. Like I said, we take Halloween very, very seriously.)
As we climbed into bed at 2:30 a.m., still drunk from that evening’s festivities, I told my boyfriend it was decided: I was going to run the Bernie Shuffle 5K and promptly set my alarm.
When said alarm clock went off four hours later, I woke with a groan, head smarting with the start of a small hangover. Because, of course, that’s what happens when you drink too much and go to sleep really late. I’m also old. Not, like, really old but over the past few years I had discovered that thirtysomething Jill cannot hold her liquor quite the same way as twentysomething Jill could. Also, while I easily pulled all-nighters in college, nowadays anything less than seven hours of sleep made for a very, very cranky Jill in the morning.
Then I made the mistake of looking outside.
It was snowing.
I really started to question last night’s game day decision.
Honestly, this is the reason big life decisions should not be made after a person has consumed copious amounts of alcohol while celebrating her favorite holiday.
There was, quite literally, only one thing stopping me from crawling back into bed and burrowing myself under the covers:
The stupid fucking medal. That stupid, fucking, really cool, and really beautiful medal.
As much as I coveted that damn thing, I was starting to loathe it. Oh sure it’s all big and sparkly and fabulous but if it wasn’t for that stupid sparkly fabulous thing I could remain in the cozy confines of my bed. Instead, I was trying to figure out the best way to both stay warm and show off my costume. Because, I mean, if you’re going to run a race the day after Halloween you might as well dress up? Because, really, why else would you have a race then? Granted, my 2014 Halloween costume was a little bit too complicated for race wear so I was instead repurposing my 2013 Halloween costume, which was the TARDIS. From Doctor Who. Because I am a geek. And I keep a suitcase full of all previous costumes. Because you just never know when a costume may be needed.
So I had on my blue shirt with a second long sleeve blue shirt underneath and a pair of black yoga pants and TARDIS knee-high socks and a blue bow in my hair because bow ties are cool. Just a few months before, at the Cleveland Flea, a big outdoor arts, crafts, and vintage event in the city, I had purchased a set of fingerless crocheted gloves styled after the costume of choice for Matt Smith’s Eleventh Doctor, so I slipped those over my hands and hopped in the car.
The Bernie Shuffle 5K started at Voinovich Park, a small man-made park on the harbor of Lake Erie. The Rock & Roll Hall of Fame and Museum acts as a backdrop to the park, which features neat landscaping and a small stage that is utilized in the summer.
Because the park is basically at the dead end of a pier, it’s not the most convenient location in the city, but it wasn’t the getting to the race part I was concerned about: it was the getting home after the race part. There is parking down in that area, but I had a feeling that trying to leave after I was done was going to be a hot mess, so I opted to park a couple blocks away and walk to the starting line.
It was dark. It was cold. It was snowy and hailing and just about whatever kind of precipitation exists was probably falling from the sky. Aside from two races the month before, I had done almost zero running since May. Oh yeah, I also came in last place in one of them, and really wasn’t looking forward to a repeat performance of that. After six months of just no good, horrible running, I needed something positive to keep me going. I needed to recapture that running magic that convinced me to step on that treadmill for the first time two and a half years ago.
As I walked down the hill towards Voinovich Park, I decided I was just going to walk the entire thing.
It was a fun run, which meant it was untimed. So, it’s not like anyone was going to know how I did anyway unless I took the initiative to time myself, but this was also my last race of the year and coming off a previous last place finish I just wanted a stress-free morning. I wanted to start and I wanted to finish and if the only way that was going to happen was if I walked, then walking it would be.
As the race began, all the participants stood in a big crowd in Voinovich Park, trying to stay warm. The close proximity to Lake Erie was so not helping in that regard. Lake-effect snow? It’s a thing. Precipitation brought on by large bodies of water? Also a thing. And there we were, standing right by a larg
e body of water, freezing our asses off. Of course, some of the runners who were clearly smarter than I was had decided to wear their Browns gear, which meant sweatshirts and hoodies, while I decided to be clever and wear a fucking Halloween costume barely warm enough for fall, let alone winter.
As the runners around me were bouncing up and down in place to generate some heat, I was on my phone, fiddling around with the music player to queue up my workout songs. I decided that even if the race organization behind the Bernie Shuffle wasn’t going to have any sort of official timing mechanism in place, I at least wanted to know how I did, in addition to starting up my Spotify app, I also opened up the clock app on my phone. Since I was running a predetermined distance, I only needed to know how long it took me to finish, so I didn’t have any need for one of my fancier apps that would also track mileage. The really basic stopwatch application on the phone would do just fine.
As I waited, I looked around, surprised at how many people had shown up for the race. I discovered on that very cold, very overcast morning, even with the hefty registration fees, that those who really love the theme will brave the cold and the snow for that sweet, sweet swag. Even with the horrendous weather, there was quite a large turnout for the race and, following the usual slow runner and walker protocol, I tucked myself into a spot in the back.
The race started and the crowd surged forward up the brick pier towards downtown.
I walked a couple of yards then looked to my left, where a small crowd of people were gathered. Everyone was excited and I saw multiple phones raised high, snapping pictures.
Curious, I went over to see what all the fuss was about.
Running with a Police Escort Page 15
