Baby's First Marathon

aka "Baby's first declaration of, 'I'm never going to do this again.'

Now, Mini-baboo was offered the chance to do this. He could do a half, or a full, or work as a volunteer. He chose the full, which carried the stipulation that he must stay with me throughout at least half of the marathon, and follow my instructions exactly. (Here we have some foreshadowing)

I released Mini-baboo at mile 12, worrying that I could not finish. I was in a lot of pain from the ole' ITB and didn't want him to worry about me. This was after programming his watch to chime an alarm every 10 minutes and giving him strict instructions, i.e.,
"Keep a steady pace that feels slower than what you're used to. Every 10 minutes, the watch will chime. I want you to stop and walk for one minute then. During that minute, I want you to drink about half of one of your little bottles-- 3-4 ounces. When you get to an aid station, I want you to eat 3-4 potato chips, and a gel (aid stations were 2-4 miles apart.)"

He then took off as fast as he could, headed down the path and out of sight, taking no gels with him and (as I found out later) ignoring everthing I told him because, after all, he is sixteen and HE knows EVERYTHING.

I found him around mile 19, sitting down on the path and complaining that his muscles were stiffening up.

"Well," I said as patiently as I could manage, "they won't loosen up with you sitting on your butt. Get up and walk it off, bo. Keep moving forward, even it's slowly." We walked together for a while; he couldn't manage much more than that.

I was getting my second wind - I'd had some terrible ITB pain between 15 and 19 but then it suddenly loosened up, and I ran ahead of him to the next aid station.

There, I laid out a care package for him: 2 advil, a cup of coca cola, some potato chips, and an order to consume all this and empty one of his bottles. The aid station guys were further more ordered that if he refused, they should slap him in the head, and to tell him I said so, and that I WOULD KNOW. Oh, yesss. I have my waysss. A mother knowsss.

A few miles later he came flying up on me again, and I asked him if the stuff at the aid station helped, and he said he wasn't sure (Oh, really?) and then after another mile or so asked if he could take off ahead of me. He flew off again and, I predicted, didn't eat or drink anything else. As a result, I finished about a quarter mile behind him, but finished, he did. It took us an appallingly long time to finish, and then afterward I walked out into a stock pond and stood in the icy water up to my thighs.

During this time Mini-baboo was demanding that if I went to the car, I should move it closer (it was about 500 feet away) so that he would not have to walk so far to it. He then declared, "I'm never doing that again. That was hard."

This was, BTW, and great course, pretty doable and very well supported. I had a lot of fun.

Later, I waited at the finish line for Sweet Baboo to come in from his first 50-mile ultra run EVAR and he has this very cool buckle that he got for finishing. You'll to read his blog, after he posts, to hear about his experience.

I don't think mini-baboo is disciplined enough to do an endurance event above a half marathon or Olympic distance without constant companionship. That's not to belittle him. It's just that he's young and impatient and not quite ready for it. Yet.

But he's happy, right now. He's tired but pretty content eating his pizza and watermelon slush. Tomorrow, I'll ask him how he feels. Sweet Baboo is awake, but fading fast. As for me, I'm going to finish my veggie lovers medium pizza with thin crust and my watermelon slush, and then I'll hit the valerian and the pillow.

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