There was a brief moment back in July in a pizzeria in Bozeman, MT that I looked across the table at The KoB and said... "Hey... what if I make the Monkey my goal race?" I continued to add bonuses: I knew the course, I could probably rope Steve into pacing me for a good chunk of it, and it would be fun to run a goal race with so many other friends running. So, for like a week, I thought I'd use the Monkey as my goal race this year, then I wised the fuck up and opted out.
I wasn't going to race it, but it was a goal race for The KoB. And I spent most of last week fretting about where I was going to be during the race and where I could spectate and still make it back in time for the finish. He runs too fast to make spectating on the course easy.
I got to the race (BEFORE HE DID. LIKE 20 MINUTES BEFORE HE DID. THAT'S HOW NERVOUS I WAS) and met up with him when he got there. It was a chilly morning, bright and perfect. We talked to friends and the whole time I was looking at him like.... is he nervous? am I more nervous than him? is he actually going to trust me to have Gu for him at mile 18? OMG THE RESPONSIBILITY!
Coach and Cheryl, it was time to get my butt to my spectating point and get in a little easy run. I went to the park entrance and started to run up the backside of 9 mile hill. I knew I'd see The KoB and I could catch up with Liz and Melanie and run a few miles with them.
Apparently I still run with my eyes closed.
I started to catch up with the lead runners and was pretty pleased when I saw The KoB quietly lurking behind a big group of runners
who had no business being in front of him. You could almost hear that Jaws soundtrack accompanying him as he ran... "da dum da dum da dum..."
You guys!!! We were meant for each other...
he runs with his eyes closed, too!
he runs with his eyes closed, too!
I screamed and yelled my head off for him when I saw him and I'm pretty sure he and everyone else was like... calm the fuck down, bitch. It's only mile 7. I kept going, cheering for the runners as they ran up 9 mile hill and stopped and waited for Melanie and Liz (I'm not a dumbass. I wasn't going to run all the way down 9 mile hill, just to turn around it and run back up it).
STILL WITH MY GODDAMN EYES CLOSED.
I caught up with them and ran with them for a few miles. But, honestly, the only thing I could think of was... "how much time do I have before The KoB comes through mile 18ish?" I was looking at my watch constantly.
I just fucking give up.
When I parted ways with Melanie and Liz I ran by someone who yelled 26.2! at me. And at first I was like.. yeah, that's how long you're running today. Have fun with that. But then I realized she was referring to my blog. So... Hi! Sorry, I'm a dumbass and can't remember the name of my own blog.
I got to the rendezvous point (the stone gates) and went to my car to grab a jacket, the Gu and my cheat sheet that had possible splits for The KoB at mile 18 and the finish, so I'd know how much time I had and how well he was doing.
I write with my eyes closed, as well.
Yes, I still have the cheat sheet. The thing about The KoB though, is that I knew not to worry if he was a few minutes off schedule. Unlike me... who prefers to go all out at the beginning and crash and burn, The KoB is a negative splitter.
I waited for about 25 minutes or so, my eyes peeled on the hill that the runners would be coming down. I saw the first guy fly through, then the second, then the third and the fourth. And then, I caught a glimpse of a white singlet and I got up and grabbed the Gu and yelled for him. I was so concerned with the Gu handoff that I didn't really pay too much attention to how he looked, but I had a good feeling. I immediately headed over to my car to drive to the finish line.
Random shout-out to the Fleet Feet Nashville Store who had the water station at the Stone Gates. Y'all were cracking me up with the music and the microphone. The red convertible comment... killed me. Also thought the comment about The KoB was pretty funny, too. (Sorry readers, you just had to be there).
I got to the finish line and immediately hooked up with friends: Coach, Cheryl, Melissa, and Andrea. We stood around and discussed the runners and how they looked when we saw them at various points on the course. Our eyes were glued to the distant hill where we would first glimpse the runners. We saw the first place guy finish with a course record 2:34:17. Which is a ridiculous time on that course, yo. Then we saw the 2nd and 3rd place guys battle it out. And that's when my stomach was really in knots. We stood around, looking at the course, I had a pretty good feeling that The KoB had taken the 4th place guy, but there was no way to know.
Finally, Coach said... Hey, is that someone? And I said... DOES HE HAVE A WHITE SINGLET ON? And when we saw that he did, I immediately started yelling (all the while realizing that he was still too far away to hear my yells) and running towards the finish line. He got closer and I started looking at the clock and then looking back at him.
You might not can tell, but his eyes are closed.
I knew he was going to come in under 3 hours. And I started yelling louder and harder and I think I dropped a couple of RUN MOTHER FUCKERS at him (which... come to find out later, his mom was actually at the finish line. CLASSY INTRODUCTION, AMY).
BOOM BITCHES! 2:57:33 A Monkey PR!
Uh. You can stop running now.
He pretty much ran through the finish chute and immediately dropped to his hands and knees. One of my favorite things about The KoB is his intensity. When he runs a race, he leaves it all out there on the course... which usually makes for a dramatic finish.
(Last year he puked all over the place, that's why no one in that picture above is getting close to him). How many people do you see run a marathon (or any race) and end up on the ground immediately afterwards? I ran over to him and even though I was so fucking excited that my first reaction was to jump on top of him and give his sweaty, salty ass a big hug and kiss, I pretty much just had to stand over him and hover around like a mother hen. I didn't have to ask how he felt. I knew he felt like shit. He'd just PRed the fuck out of one of the hardest marathons around. He was in pain, not dying, but in pain. And I just kinda stood there and let him get his bearings and catch his breath. People kept coming over to me, asking me if he was okay. I was like... uhh... yeah... he's The KoB, of course he's okay.
Uh, wait... you ARE okay, right?
After about 5 minutes of him writhing around on the ground (still on his hands and knees) I got him some Gatorade and he started drinking. After about 10 minutes he finally rolled over and sat down on the grass. SUCCESS (even though all he could grumble about was that he didn't come in 3rd and win a crochet monkey). We stood around waiting for other friends and his brother to finish. It was a good day. So many of our friends did awesome on Sunday! I was bursting with pride and excitement for everyone! But mainly... I was just thirsty...
Kegs got tapped at noon and suddenly the day got EVEN BETTER.
And a little fuzzy.
I stood around and talked to people I knew, met people I didn't know and had about 8 beers. It was FANFUCKINGTASTIC. The KoB got his Monkey PR, some of our friends got marathon PRs (WHOA), and I got fucking wasted. A good day, indeed. Congrats to everyone that finished!