grrgoyl

The weekend of Tery's first marathon didn't go quite as smoothly as I had hoped. The first thing that went wrong was picking up my sister and brother-in-law from the airport. The itinerary had stated 11:20 as the arrival time. As we pulled out of the driveway at 10:30, we got Amy's text "Just landed, we're at the back of the plane." Almost a full hour early? That must have been the mother of all tailwinds.

When we met them, I quipped that the weekend was already "an unmitigated disaster," at that moment jinxing us all.

Not only did the weather miss the memo that my sister was in town and I wanted everything to be perfect for her, but on day two Tery and I both discovered our cars had been broken into, insurance papers and other glove compartment contents strewn on the floor. Luckily, (if you want to think of it that way) we had both left our doors unlocked, so we were at least spared the cost of replacing our windows. On the other hand, we might have not been victimized at all had we locked them since the perp was clearly looking for a quick, no-mess in-and-out.

My iPod is currently missing; I'm still searching, though not hopeful. The fact isn't lost on me that this was literally the only time I'd left it in the car since my last iPod was stolen, also literally the first night I left it in the car. If it doesn't turn up, I'm quickly falling in love with the idea of using my phone as one ("Finally!" said

kavieshana and millions of iPhone users everywhere)

My night on the air mattress didn't go so well; the damn thing had a slow leak and I woke up at 4 am flat on the floor with the mattress billowing up on either side of me. I snuck down to the couch where I spent an equally restless few hours trying to convince myself I was comfortable with my feet hanging over the edge and no elbow room.

But no part of the visit was more disastrous than the marathon itself. Don't believe me? Oh, read on, my friends.

Sunday morning. The race started at 6 am, with strong recommendations to park by 5 am, which meant leaving the house by 4:15 am, which meant waking up by 3 am.

We parked fine, did some reconnaissance of the pre-dawn starting line, then went back to the car because it was about 35 degrees out. We headed out again for reals at around 5:30 am and the runners started making preparations.

Tery was nervous as hell. Amy and Rob, who had done 12 and 17 of these respectively, were excited. Soon it was time for me to retire to the sidelines before the race began.

They were off, and I was left with 5-6 hours to entertain myself; which isn't normally a problem, except I felt absurdly guilty sitting in the car (which I did for about 30 minutes anyway) so I went back outside, where it felt like it was getting colder rather than warmer as the sun came up. I would have just gone home and come back again if I weren't afraid of losing my awesome parking space, plus I didn't want to not be there if something happened and someone came back prematurely.

What followed was hours of wandering basically in a two-mile radius. I really wanted a hot beverage, but there was no retail inside the park. I eventually saw a coffee van set up among the marathon vendors, but the line was about 40 people deep. Not that I had anything better to do, but I only had a credit card and anyway it was fucking freezing out there and my brain wasn't functioning at its best.

I should have just sat in the car, but by now people were crossing the finish line and freaking me out that I was going to miss someone, even knowing that was completely irrational (there were several smaller events in addition to the marathon, a half marathon, a 5k and a relay race).

So I would walk in one direction, then the other. Any amount of walking made me had to pee, so I made several trips to the port-a-potties, noticing them getting more and more uninhabitable with each visit. Standing still made me colder, so I walked. I couldn't even play with my phone because I didn't want to take off my gloves that long.

In between walking aimlessly, I was getting hourly phone calls from Tery's medical director, who very nicely had come out to cheer for her on the west side of town. However, she seemed convinced that I could access my psychic link with Tery and know her exact location at any given moment, and refused to leave me alone until I shared the info. I couldn't even tell her what Tery was wearing (6 am was a cold, sleepy, miserable dark blur), but she wasn't going to give up pestering me.

But enough about my ordeal. I finally decided to hang out at mile 26, near the finish line but not stuck among the loudly cheering crowd already assembled there. Thankfully MyFriendDeb called me near the end to offer some distraction. I almost missed Rob, who finished at 4-something hours. He said he felt like shit, but had seen Amy and Tery and they "looked good."

Another 45 minutes later, suddenly Tery walked up behind me with Rob. She was crying because she hadn't been allowed to finish and had hitched a ride home with another runner. Long story short, they had started pulling the cones up marking the route and she was one of the farthest at the back. She was offered a ride in the support van but refused. Then she strayed off the course completely and got hopelessly lost in the picturesque neighborhoods the race coordinators sent them down rather than keeping them on the large main thoroughfare of Colfax Ave.

She stopped in a gas station for help, where she met a half-marathoner who was even more lost: She was supposed to head east, not west. Her friends were all at the finish line wondering where the hell she had gone. Tery got a lift back with them, demoralized and feeling like a failure. She had run 13 miles, she figured.

She had it easy. 30 minutes later we got a call from Amy, in the throes of a panic attack, also lost. She had ended up in the cracktown portion of Colfax with absolutely no idea where to go, being approached by bums and strangers. She had seen the cone pickup crew but couldn't catch up to them, and soon she also had lost the course. We offered to come get her but she wanted to finish, so used her GPS and Google Maps to find her way back to the park.

I haven't known Rob terribly long, but I have never seen him so furious.

As we waited for Amy, a man wearing an "open heart surgery survivor" t-shirt sobbing his eyes out passed the 26-mile marker as the race volunteers tore it down. I wish I got a picture of THAT.

We all bitched loudly about the piss-poor organization. Another volunteer in a golf cart heard us and claimed to radio to the race director for him to come talk to us. I say "claimed" because such a person never showed up. Probably couldn't find us with the mile marker gone.

Amy finally made it back safely, thank God, in 5:58 hours -- the race was advertised as 6 hours, so this is significant. Tery might have accepted what happened to her because she was running too slow (ignoring the time wasted wandering on side streets trying to find the fucking course); but my sister, who has run the Boston Marathon as well as Chicago and LA, was on mile 23 when they ripped the course right out from under her feet. She wasn't even last -- apparently eight others finished after her. I hope there was a finish line left to cross.

I wrote an extremely strongly worded letter to the race organizers, and Tery, Amy and Rob will be as well. Rob is also writing to Runner's World magazine and the 50 States Club to which he belongs. I mentioned that Tery was a recovering alcoholic, had trained her heart out and deserved a fighting chance to find the damn finish line. I mentioned Amy and her experience with many other marathons. I mentioned the surgery survivor and asked if they stomped on puppies in their free time, because I get the feeling they completely fail to appreciate that the race is a significant milestone to some people, not just a huge inconvenience to the city of Denver that has to be tidied up as soon as possible. No word back yet, probably still too busy counting their money (Tery paid $120 to have her dreams sabotaged).

Boston. Chicago. Los Angeles. All these cities have major marathons that shut down major roads, and reportedly they keep the cones down for the duration of the whole race, not just for the speedy leaders. You can't tell me these cities' drivers are any less impatient than we are in Denver (although we ARE the hit-and-run capital of America). You don't want to keep cones down? Fine. Put up more damn signs, and LEAVE them up. Or paint markers on the ground. SOMETHING.

The scariest thing was the comments on their Facebook page (which has also since disappeared; this race came and went like a thief in the night) about how much "better organized than last year" they were. Rob joked, "Yeah, six people died last year." The other joke was how many competitors just gave up and became Denver residents because they couldn't find their way back.

I thought I couldn't get any angrier than I was at Kaiser Permanente (the race sponsor). But then Tery went back to work and for some reason none of her co-workers mentioned the race, and if they did they were "lukewarm" about it. She thought they were upset because she took time off (they always are. She's supposed to eat, sleep and breathe the hospital in their eyes).

The medical director had these words of encouragement: "Everyone knows where Colfax is, why couldn't you find it?" and, upon seeing her medal that Rob insisted she take, "Oh, so everyone got one anyway?" In her defense, this woman is the queen of tactless on her best days.

Tery felt like an idiot. She felt about three inches tall. She called me weeping inconsolably.

I texted Tabby to find out what everyone's problem was. She got pissy and in my face immediately, claiming they WERE being supportive "fyi," and anyway, they were "TRYING to work" so didn't have time to coddle Tery. Wow. I felt like she had slapped me across the face, which was nothing to what I wanted to do to hers. I said she didn't want a fucking tickertape parade, just a hug and some kind words would do. She answered snidely, "I'll make people aware of that." Please do, in between practicing your newfound work ethic.

So yeah, we're not on speaking terms until I get an apology.

Amy was very helpful through this as well. She said people, especially non-athletic people, have no idea the work that goes into a marathon and how much it means to participate (and finish one, ideally). She accepted long ago that she would have to do it for herself and not expect anyone else to get all that excited about it. But I still think Tery's workers were being needlessly shitty. They must have agreed, because at some point someone went to get balloons and a card for her. Awww, you shouldn't have...after having four days to plan something.

So, not the optimal experience for a first marathon. But Tery is choosing to take it as a learning experience, and is more determined than ever to finish one now. My sister's first order of business when returning home was to search for 5k races in Connecticut they could do when Tery goes back next month. I love my sister.

The weekend wasn't all bad. I discovered Subway's yummy Orchard Chicken Salad sandwich (fully aware it's only seasonal so I'm not heartbroken later). Amy and I rocked out the Wii and generally had an awesome time (if too short). ANDANDANDAND....Banksy finally arrived!

If I look slightly crazed, it's because it took Tery about two minutes to work out how to use my phone camera app. The one with the big enormous shutter button on the screen