It was something around a 41:40 depending on the chip time. Might have some more pics, grafs and other fun depending on how Nike comes through on their promises ofwacky stuff...so stay tuned. I'm pretty pumped that this blog is now really getting to a point where I can use it to compare years to other years. So congrats to my dumb ass for sticking to something for more than two months.
On the run front, it was pretty standard. It was an extraodinarily well run event. Much, much better than past years...and the past two years were great. There was no jam at the start...clear sailing the whole way. Incredible that I was like three minutes slower this year...wonder what the time would have been last year given the same clear course.
Less turns this year. No frat row. Turns out that was fine with me. We ran from the Coliseum to Staples and back, then right on Exposition, then to the stadium tunnel. Same awesome finish on the field. Same rad VIP tent.
I have to say, I likely paid a slight price for the strong run on Thursday. But balls to all that. I'm in no shape to really be concerned about the time. And honestly, I have to say I think I ran within two or three minutes of the best I could have run at this point, which is a decent performance in my competitive context.
So the legs were a bit dodgy at first, but dusted off. After the turn, felt a bit stronger and...no lying...I owe the Sugarhill Gang at least 1:15 as the words, "Huh, huh, huh, huh...it's like a jungle sometimes it makes me wonder how I keep from goin' undah" rolled across the course. How freaking awesome. I really felt like there were two "Smithsonian" moments...one being this. "Don't push me, cuz I'm close to the...edge...I'm trying not to lose my head. He-huh-huh-huh."
With that wind at my back, it was just a matter of getting to the last water (I was pretty under-hydrated...that nasty feeling of both having to take a leak AND being parched.) And then simply finishing it out as we passed Sir Mix A Lot. I'd rather seen Positive K...no offense, SMALs.Some oatmeal, some pineapple, some chips, a banana and tons of water (still never hit the can, which should prove the lack of hydro beyond a reasonable doubt) and then met up with the team in the VIP tent thanks to JDP's cousin.
MC Hammer was honestly somewhat impressive as a person. The second Smithy came when he signed one of his dolls that someone passed up to the stage...still in the box. He took a shot at the people who trashed him for selling out and now can't wait to line up vodka, clothes and Vitamin Water deals. Really cool.
"Yeah, I'll sign this thing. Because I'm proud of it," he said.
It struck me that his music was making everyone really happy (of course, lots of runners with food after a race isn't hard to get smiling). This is what pop music used to be about as late as 1990 or whatever. He was a huge "hip hop" star, somewhat trendsetting beats and decent lyrics...and it was all revolving around positive stuff. I never really thought of that. And he hasn't changed a bit or gotten bitter or tried to be something he's not (in the end.) He's just MC Hammer and his band of arm flailing dancers, busting out the craziest moves in manic bursts of fury, with feet moving all over the place at all times.
It's Oakland still, and it's weird. But it definitely isn't fake. Which is saying something because this whole time I thought he was the biggest phoney...instead, it's the guys just trying to be real. Sorry to get too serious about it, but it was surprisingly touching. I still don't really care for his music...and the real reason he flamed out was he just wasn't cutting edge anymore. It all passed him by.But watching him sign that doll was bananas. It was like on Northern Exposure when the ex-PGA guy who blew the Masters gets his chance as a chimney sweep to make the same putt he missed in another lifetime. Loved it.
Another cool thing...I got to give my medal to the Maggster.
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