I want to put my own voice to the tale I’m about to spin. It’s a personal tale and one with an unexpected conclusion. So, here goes….
Call me Nitmos. Some years ago – never mind how long precisely – having little or no time for running, and nothing particular to interest me in Boston, I thought I’d challenge myself to a 5k.
I stole that. Blatantly. (Does anyone know where this slightly modified famous opening paragraph comes from?????)
Actually, I did reach a sort of personal enlightenment in the Newton hills area which I will share with you all in part 3. A sort of white whale I’ve been hunting and finally (maybe?) located…
Here’s the deal. On Friday, we flew from Detroit into DC for our connection to Boston. Foolishly, I decided to eat a taco. From an airport. Fast. Food. Stand. While gazing at the distant Washington monument, I consumed this largely inedible concoction.
By Friday evening and two splatterings on the toilet later, I would see that taco again. My 5 year run of not throwing up – since that wicked evening of rum debauchery - was over.
Do not ever visit California Tortilla. Their food sucks and induces vomiting. I know that most people already know not to eat a taco in an airport but I’ve already covered the fact that I’m not very bright.
Friday was spent groaning in bed…and puking (see above). We did make it to Cheers on Beacon St. for, in my case, an uneaten meal and a stroll around Boston Common.
Saturday morning, race expo and check-in. I still couldn’t keep any food down. It’s all nibbles and sips. Any food creates a rock in the gut.
The expo was crazy busy but well organized. We walked around a bit. Saw Ryan Hall signing posters and chatting with folks. Unbeknownst to me, Beardsely was a scheduled speaker in the next room. There would have been words. I’m glad I didn’t go.
They were setting up the start/finish line for the Women’s Olympic Trials and the Boston Marathon Saturday morning. The finish mat was going down. Pretty cool to see. Here’s the sign on the Boston Public Library, which is right at the finish.
Sunday morning I was starting to feel a bit better. Able to get some food down in larger quantities. I had been nursing Gatorade bottles non-stop since Friday night’s PukeFest Jamboree to keep from dehydrating. I wandered down to see the women’s Olympic Trials. The first mile was two blocks from my hotel going by the edge of Boston Common for the one and only time. I don’t know the names of these superfast ladies real well but here they are going by.
Mrs. Nitmos and I did go to the race sponsored pre-race pasta dinner as it was a short walk from the hotel. That was a last minute decision.
My next door neighbor had this sign on his room door:
"TAPERING. Monday is the big day and I need my rest"
I’m feeling pretty good about the race for the next day. I was able to eat fairly regularly Sunday with only a little leftover California Tortilla floating around the intestines. I was well hydrated as demonstrated by the lemonade colored urine discharged from the ole bilge pump.
Let’s get it on.