Newport Marathon

We left the kids with friends (where, incidentally, Miles would cannonball off the treadmill and smash his head into their wall, shattering the sheet rock) --- and drove down the night before.  Newport is about 2 1/2 hours from Portland.  Oh, and Miles is okay.

Briton.  Leaving the competition in the dust.

Anyway, this marathon was so fun ("how quickly they forget").  Overcast weather and remarkable scenery along the bay and river.  

Caught in a romantic interlude. This is how we really kiss.  The above photo is reminiscent of the "preying" mantis, (pl?) who, as you know, eat each other while ... doing stuff.

Fantastic support crew (L to R): Tami, Heidi, Jean (BQ'd and PR'd), Mark (her husband), me (PR'd), Briton (BQ'd), and Nicole.

Mark (logistics) chauffered us to the start line, was Jean's number one fan, and got Briton's proprietary scooby snacks to him at designated mile what-have-you.  The ladies helped the miles fly by.  No kidding.  They joined up with me at mile 9 or something like that and we talked and talked as we chugged along.  Which was a lot more engaging than the podcast I had been listening to about American expats in China (because I couldn't get Serial to queue up.  Have you listened to it?  Do you think Adnan killed his girlfriend?).

But I digress.  When they peeled off to go find Jean, I looked at my watch and it was already mile 18.  The time went by so fast.   Then I ran alone for a couple miles and that's when it started to get not-so-fun.  Heidi and Tami came back after seeing Jean cross the finish line and distracted me through the painful last few miles by telling me depressing stories (only joking. well, not really).  Another benefit, and I'm not sure if it's cheating in running (it is in biking, I hear), but I used them for a windbreak going up a hill at one point towards the end when the gusty breeze could have knocked me down.  We formed a flying "V".  Just like in the movies.  Heidi, who has one foot in the grave .. practically ... delivered on her promise to whip out a cartwheel when all was said and done.

We all met up for lunch after showers and stuff and compared notes on the race  ("Did you eat the oysters?", "No!  No way!  I didn't eat the oysters!").  That's the fun part, too.

Right up there with being done.  That's super fun.  So fun, in fact, that we should do it again some time.  Like .... in October ...