I’m not as sore as I am after running Rocky, but I’m definitely as tired right now.  And I am chock full of a week’s worth of stories for you.  I’ll start out with this one today, and finish the week off with the pimp pacer pictures at the bottom.

I spent Wednesday and Thursday learning to mark a course properly with Joe and Henry.  (And watching Henry try to convince Joe his golf bag carrier was actually a good way to transport wooden stakes.)

So on Friday afternoon when I ran into Mike Morton at the start/finish area, and he asked if the trail was marked, I was proud to say, “And  how!”

The rest of the conversation went something like this:

Mike: Great.  I think I’ll go out for a loop.

Me:  Um, the loops are 20 miles… Right?

Mike:  Yeah.

The man ran 20 miles the afternoon before his 100.  His 14:28 100.

He also mentioned he’s signed up for another 100 this weekend.  I can’t remember which one because my brain stopped working shortly after, “Yeah.”

But wait, there’s more!

Just before the race started on Saturday, Mike spotted me from the start line (where I was orbiting Joe like a small moon) and asked if I could hold onto something for him.  Sure thing.  He walked over and handed me… (wait for it) a package of string cheese.

And then the race started.  And I was unsure whether string cheese was part of his race nutrition, which he’d want on the second loop — or if it was post-race celebratory string cheese.  But I’d heard, “Can you hold onto this?” so I wasn’t going to put it in the trash.  And I figured I’d better have it ready at the end of his first loop — just in case.  I mean, maybe that’s why I’ve never broken the US record.  No string cheese.  So I took a picture of myself with the string cheese and reentered my Joe orbit.

20 miles in: No string cheese request from Mike.

And then it really started to warm up, — which was hard for the cheese.

I envisioned Mike coming into mile 40 hollering, “Where’s the string cheese?!?” and having to hand him a wilted mess.

“Yeah, I would have run 12:30 and broken the US record, but this girl let the string cheese melt.”

I shared my cheese dilemma with the aid station guys and they came up with this.

Long story short, apparently Mike does not rely on sting cheese to fuel his races.  (So put down your Frigo Cheese Heads order forms.)  There was no cheese request at mile 60.  And then I got distracted by this:

But more on that Friday.