See Diva Run

If you travel enough, something is bound to go wrong. If you travel with me, it will happen every trip. If you’ve read my recent reports you might recall the trip to the emergency room in Oklahoma, and the flooding that turned our trip home from the airport after our Las Vegas trip into an odyssey. This trip was challenged weeks in advance due to injury. I stopped running for two weeks in December due to heel pain, but it didn’t help. Then I got sick, which didn’t help. Did I mention long hours at work? Things were so busy, I was afraid I was going to have to bring the laptop with me and work from Arizona. Fortunately I got everything handled, and we finally got out the door. There was traffic, and a very slow moving line through security. Mr Diva ended up running through the airport in his socks, down the escalator and to the train that takes you to the north concourse. He managed to get his shoes on before the train arrived. We got to our gate at boarding time. You know how flights never board on time? This one boarded early. We boarded with a sigh of relief, figuring that was our excitement. We arrived in Phoenix shortly before 11pm, picked up our rental car and started north toward our hotel. About 6 miles up the road a truck started flashing its lights at us. A few minutes later a minivan drove by, with all of the passengers gesturing wildly at us. Thinking the car must be on fire, or that we were dragging something, we pulled over. Mr Diva got out and walked around the car, but didn’t see anything. He got back in the car and asked if my headlights were on. Doh! My car does that automatically. The really funny thing was that I’d passed a state trooper about a mile earlier. We laugh and say that must be the excitement for this trip, and head to the hotel.

We visited the expo the next day. It was huge, but very well organized. It helped that it was Friday. There was very little waiting for our packets, and no waiting for our shirts. We browsed all of the cool official race stuff, and I managed to resist everything but a pair of socks. I’m still trying to achieve that “less stuff” goal, but you can never have too many socks, right? We left the official race gear section and wandered the rest of the expo. It was surprisingly busy. I wandered past a booth where they were selling a pain relief product. They had folding chairs labeled with different pains, including one for heel pain. I decided to give it a try. The lady sprayed Jones Formula on my heels, and to my amazement, they didn’t hurt when I stood up. Of course I bought a bottle. She assured me that I could use the product, and I wouldn’t have to change my evil ways. I could just run and run. Hmmm. What the heck. We ran into some friends, visited for a few minutes and then headed to the Hard Rock for terrible food, horrible service and a really big bill. We check out the Phoenix traffic, which isn’t too intimidating to Seattle traffic veterans, and drive north where we see hills covered in Saguaro cactus, and a fabulous sunset.

Later that evening we are relaxing in our room when we hear an odd noise, kind of like an alarm. We hear it again, and it isn’t kind of like an alarm, it is an alarm. Next we get the announcement that we need to evacuate the hotel, and take the stairs. We put on our shoes and jackets, and I grab my purse and room key (I’ve been evacuated before), and walk slowly down the stairs and around the building. All the while, Mr Diva is insisting that it is a false alarm. We get outside and watch a helicopter fly over the building. Its lights illuminate a massive cloud of smoke. Soon the fire engines arrive. There was a single engine that pulled up in front of the hotel, but another 20 - 30 engines were lining the streets. It was quite a sight! We waited around for at least an hour before they let us go back inside. There are only 6 elevators, so we take the stairs. It was wet and smoky, and we were happy to get back in our room. With this much excitement so far, we are bound to have smooth sailing for the rest of the trip, right?

The next day we visited Rawhide Wild West Town in Chandler, before joining friends for dinner at the P.F. Chang’s in Tempe, right near the finish line. We tied up their tables for 3 hours, and had a wonderful time. The next morning we got up and got ready, and headed toward The Phoenician, where my friend Gladys was staying. The plan was to leave our car there and have her husband drive us to the starting line. One small problem, The Phoenician is on Camelback Road, and Camelback Road is closed for the marathon. We are forced to turn right on 7th, and are not allowed to turn left. Eventually we are directed onto the freeway in the opposite direction of their hotel. Thank goodness for cell phones. We make up our plans as we go, and eventually meet at a parking lot near Chase Field.

It was a beautiful morning, if a bit cool, but I realize it is going to heat up quickly, so I remove my jacket while we are walking slowly toward the starting line. I was assigned to corral 11, but my husband was assigned to 16, so we started in his corral. I started off slowly and carefully, wondering if the heel was going to be a problem. It wasn’t. I think I’m doing pretty well until I see the times. How can I be running that slowly? My husband started walking after two miles, and I manage to run slowly enough that he can jog up and catch me periodically. Around mile 5 the slow jogging catches up with me, and my left IT band starts to tighten. 8 miles is a long way to walk, so I’m trying to hang in there. I start to realize that I can run faster, but I can’t continue to go slow. I decided to go for it, and I take off running like a mad woman. The thing is, I didn’t tell my husband I was going to do this, so I stop about a mile later and wait for him, to let him know what I’m doing. I keep this up for the remainder of the race, but after mile 10, the intervals of hard running get shorter and shorter. I had plenty of energy, but the knee just wouldn’t bend. I managed to run hard for the last tenth of a mile, as captured by the finish photos (I was racing with Mr Diva, and I beat him by 1 second!)

We collected our medals, had our chips removed and went back to the finish area to wait for Gladys. She walked the entire thing in 3:17. It was her first half marathon, and we were so proud of her. Her first words were “I’m going back to golf”, but soon after she was talking about San Antonio. We finally meet up with her husband and start marching toward the parking garage. He says he is parked on the 4th floor. She tells him to get the car, and she will wait. He says the walk will do her good. They head toward the elevator, I head toward the stairs, and reach the 4th floor just as he is stepping out. Mr Diva thinks I’m nuts, but he is right behind me. We spend a lot of time sitting in Phoenix traffic, but finally we are back at our car and ready to head north for an In N Out Burger celebration.

Between the insanity, the injury and the cold that dogged me all the way to Arizona, this one had disaster written all over it. For some people a 2:50 finish probably qualifies as a disaster. I actually felt pretty good about how I was doing, except for the time. We can always blame that on all of the standing around and waiting. The truth is, I was running slow from injury and over training before I took the time off, so I guess I’m just lucky I was in good enough shape to finish the distance.

The day after the race my quads were burning! We drove up to Sedona for lunch, and then headed toward the airport. We had time left, so we visited the Botanical Garden in Papago Park, which was along the half marathon route. There were very few people, so we enjoyed a couple hours of peaceful strolling before the madness of air travel.

For a truly excellent report on the P.F. Chang’s race, see http://lvm.createmybb.com/showthread.php?tid=2339

This entry was posted on Sunday, January 20th, 2008 at 1:24 pm and is filed under Race Reports. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.