I am glad to say, "Toto, we're not in Kansas any more". It was one of those days!

I ran the Eisenhower Marathon in Abilene, KS on Saturday April 7, 2007.

The morning started out a little chilly at 7 AM and 20 degrees. No wind. No big deal. I've done this before.

After 2 miles south through the plains of Kansas we turned into a park. An oasis of trees and winding roads. By the time we exited the park, passed a few greyhound dog farms and reconnected with the highway for a 5 mile stretch straight south the wind began to pick up. Wind directly out of the north at our back. Good sailing now, bad later. At mile 11 we turned west and the wind chill kicked in. My right arm and ear were instantly more than cold. My gear for this race was shorts, singlet, ball cap, gloves and a garbage bag I had planned to shed. After 2.1 miles of rolling hills we turned around and doubled back from the 13.1 mile point. The wind steadily increased and now my left arm and ear were exposed to the wind. It had to be a sub zero wind chill. I needed a thermometer and wind gauge to make the calculation. No one had one. And no one wanted to make a guess. I had to cover my ear with my left hand to keep it warm and my fingers went numb. I had to revert to pulling my fingers out of the glove fingers and make them into a fist to keep them warm. The glove fingers dangled. I was quite a sight.

Half way through the marathon in one paragraph! Imagine that?

I passed by a friend of mine, Dick, from Lincoln, NE going the opposite direction. He had shorts on too. Was he as cold as me? He wore a long sleeve wind breaker and a stocking cap. A better idea I thought. He probably blamed me for the shorts idea. All along these 2 miles I am dreading the turn north. Fearing the 5 miles faced into a sub zero wind chill (my frosty arctic snow on the ground estimate). We turned the corner at mile 15 and it was BAD. All along here we gritted our teeth, we talked trash, we walked, we complained bitterly about the bitter cold. I slipped my arms into the garbage bag at mile 16, not because my arms were cold. It was my fingers. I couldn't feel them. Thoughts of frost bite came to mind, but at least my ear was OK now. No direct wind on it. Just the face, the chin and the nose. And chapped lips. I ran 10 miles without any arm swing. Try that sometime! I wrapped my arms across my chest or down in front, you know, protecting that area from frost bite. Alternating the hand in front to give the other a chance to be protected and maybe warm up. It helped some.

At water stops I would stop, pull both hands out from under the bag and squeeze the cup between both hands. Like you would hold a hot cup of coffee to warm your hands. Careful not to spill it and get my gloves wet. Most cups were almost a slush or the top was frozen like a pond. One stop actually handed out WARM water. One of the most thoughtful gestures of the day. At many stops I kept going, too cold to get my hands out for a drink that I didn't need that much anyway.

It was a blustery walk fest. All around me people were ducking their head and plowing into the wind. Run (plow), walk, plow, walk. I saw a Grapevine runner, Steve behind. He was in a group doing a 3 minute run, 1 minute walk. Oddly they caught up to me, then after one series dropped behind. Maybe they switched to a 3 and 3. Or maybe they didn't want to be around a Maniac frozen guy with no fingers in his gloves running with his arms inside a trash bag. Thoughts of quitting, frosted body parts and freezing to death on the highway froze out thoughts about race pace, hydration, GU packs and strategy. Then a runner that was near me would surge past and my determination to finish would be rekindled. Rekindled, that's a warm thought. I wished I had mittens, not gloves. I wished I had a stocking cap. I wished there was no #*#$ wind.

Eventually at mile 20 we made the turn toward the park. Thanks goodness, mercy at last. Gradually I could feel my fingers again and by shifting the bag around I could keep the arm opening from facing directly into the wind. Those arm holes were letting in a lot of freezing air. The park gave me the break I needed to warm up and get ready for the last 2 miles straight into the wind. 3 of us were going about the same speed and we grumbled as we made that turn, ducked our heads and gutted it out. I rotated my bag to make a solid surface toward the wind and maintain a low wind resistance. It's all about aerodynamics at this point. And I had ice on my wings! The bag flapped and made lots of noise as I inched my way toward the finish. Over the flapping noise of my garbage bag the guy beside me asked, "Are you going to tear off the garbage bag at the finish line?" "I don't think so, I might freeze on the spot." Cramped, dehydrated and frost bit.

The open plains of Kansas finally became the town of Abilene and the wind slowed, but not as much as I had hoped. The cheering squads of one were out telling us there was not much further to go. Over and over again. "Not much further, really, not much." There was no finish line sprint. My 2 new frozen friends came in a few minutes behind and we went straight into the church to warm up. 4:32:32. I had not looked at my watch in 11 miles and didn't care. Where's the hot burning coffee?

A 26.2 mile "garbage bag wearing" marathon. A new record for me!

66 marathons completed. 45 states + DC. 6 to go. Make that St Louis, MO; Louisville, KY; Burlington, VT; Green Bay, WI; Casper, WY and Williams, WV. Odd, first time I noticed 3 "W" states at the end???

"Never a DNF", he said. "No way!"