Seven years and 2 children later, we returned to Charleston but this time with bibs in hand ready to tackle that bridge. Jaime ended up staying with the boys and I was sent out on a solo mission only to surprise the heck out of myself an finish in just over 55 minutes. Even more surprising? I settled for Taco Boy and nap rather than the post race party. My oh my, how 7 years and two children can change you.
This year the kids are older and more trustworthy with babysitters so Jaime joined me for a repeat performance. And before I get into this years race let me tell you a little bit about Jaime. He is awesome BUT slightly crazy. He has to be 3 hours early for everything. Seriously, this is not an exaggeration. And every second that passes while traveling to said destination he is a nervous wreck and also chugging coffee, thereby making him even more nervous. So knowing what I knew from last years race, I was prepared for Jaime to freak. You (and 40,000 other people) have to be in line for the buses by 6am to make it over to the start line in Mt. Pleasant by 8am. I went ahead and did the mental math accounting for travel time from Seabrooke (45 minutes), breakfast and putting us inline by 5:30am (the absolute latest Jaime could handle if the requirement was 6). So, we got up at 3:30am. Our wonderful hosts, Jaime's Aunt Sherry and Uncle Bart, had graciously left out breakfast for us and offered to take care of the boys. I asked Jaime to turn on the light, "There's no time" he says holding out his Iphone providing only enough light to see me standing in the dark next to 10 cereal boxes.
When we got in the car, he made me drive. I had been forewarned that on Seabrooke if you go 26 miles an hour you have to pay $50.00. No questions asked, no exceptions. Must go 25, I repeated in my head over and over. And who can forget my run in with the Folly police on the way to last years bridge run? So, we are out driving around in the dark for what feels like an eternity and all I can think about is food. I never skip breakfast and generally the first thing I think about when I wake up is what I am going to eat. I am a mega-grouch without food, coffee, a gallon of water and a multivitamin. So I did the unthinkable and went to McDonalds. Yes, those same golden arches that soak all of their food in ammonia and use meat "products", aka-pigs toenails and chicken beaks. But I figured whats the worst that can happen with an Egg McMuffin and a coffee? Jaime tells me he wants a plain biscuit with grape jelly which also seems safe. No problem! Except I was forgetting one crucial thing... where do people go to work when they are too stupid to work anywhere else? You guessed it: the Downtown Charleston McDonalds. These people were some class acts and I am not one to berate food service workers (I worked at Hardees at one point in my life for about 8 hours, so I get it) but holy hell, how long does it take to get a biscuit? Exactly 35 minutes, that's how long. Finally, I asked the girl at the register if she wouldn't mind just giving my food to someone else since we had already payed for it and I didn't want it to go to waste and she goes, "Ah nah, I get fo ya." and grabs a bag that had been sitting next to the fryer for 10 minutes. Jaime was in a total fit by this point and I am pretty sure was breathing irregularly. When we got in the car he says, "Do you need directions?" which he had been pulling up from the Iphone and I am like, "Uh, yeah, duh" and he says "Ahhhhhh. I thought you could get there from here" and starts to pound something into the phone. At which point I say, "Forget it" and take off about 100 miles per hour down Calhoun. We saw an empty spot in front of a fire hydrant and in all seriousness Jaime say's "Just park here!! I'll pay the ticket!" I had finally had enough and told him he needed to calm down. It was 5:45am and the race didn't start for 2 hours and 15 minutes. We eventually found legal parking and made our way to the line only 5 minutes after the suggested time of 6am. Granted, we were almost a mile back from where we would actually get on the bus and between parking, trips to a port-a-john and all of the line, I am pretty sure I had run 5K before ever stepping up to the starting line. It was an adventure, but we made it! On the bus ride over we were treated to this sunrise on the bridge :
And Jaime became my cool, collected sweet husband again. We had literally been off the bridge for 45 seconds when the bus driver got a message via walky talky that the bridge was now closed. Whew!! That was cutting it way too close. Imagine if we had missed our entire race for a McMuffin? We lined up for the start at exactly 8am behind 40,000 of these people:
I was tired. It had been a long journey to get to this point and I get a little scared in crowds. I started thinking about how this seemed like the perfect venue for a terrorist attack and imagined the bridge blowing up. As we stood there waiting for our wave to take off I was becoming more and more anxious. Finally at 8:21 it was our turn to cross the start line, which means I wasn't even finished with the first mile when the Kenyans were celebrating their victory.
Running with 40,000 people is a struggle. Just imagine if you decided to go for a run in the middle of the civic center at a Phish show. Also, after my surprising time in the Shamrock a few weeks back I got cocky and thought this would be a breeze. That bridge is actually pretty freaking steep and it was hot. I was working harder than I had planned and was relieved when I got to the finish line. The clock said 1:16 but since we started 21 minutes late my chip time came out to 55:38 which was exactly 3 seconds slower than last year. Well, at least I am consistent. Jaime got 53 something and had way more fun than I did. He we are at the finish festival.
I was pretty bummed out about my experience and ate my feelings in key lime pie and sweet tea. But when we layed down for bed that night (at 8pm) I read an article Aunt Sherry had cut out for us. It was about people running the bridge to overcome something. One lady had lost a child, one had cancer, one had lost like 100 pounds...and I immediately felt selfish and ungrateful. I thought back to that trip in 2003 when I didn't even know how far 10K was and realized, 55 minutes and 6.2 miles is nothing to shake a stick at. And how lucky am I that we are healthy enough to run, fortunate enough to have wonderful family to keep our two beautiful boys and we got a fabulous vaca to Charleston out of it? Falling asleep I had a much more positive outlook and looked at the day totally different than I had before. Funny how a little rest can make you so much happier.
We spent the rest of the weekend at the beach and eating more pie. I absolutely love Charleston. The people, the food, that damn bridge, everything. The boys had a blast and proved to us even more what little beach bums they are. We are counting down the days until next year and who knows? Maybe just maybe we will live there by then.
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