Sunday, October 28, 2007
Afoot in Tempe
Here's me hoofing it home at the frozen Phoenix Marathon back in January.
Near the finish, the course passes through a neighborhood that deftly blends desert scrub with industrial wasteland. You can rest your weary eyes on a huge power plant, highway bridges, and sharp plants. Very few people cheer in these parts. However, fewer distractions allow more time to focus on physical and metal discomfort.
Fortunately, Ironman Kate Martini ran me in the last 6.2 miles. She didn't tolerate loafing and knocked five minutes off my finish time by pulling me along in her wake.
Note the cap turned youthfully backwards. I did that around mile 25 and can't remember why. (It's not as if I were racing so fast my hat was about to flutter off.) In any case, no one should be held responsible for their actions in the last stages of a marathon.
Within reason, of course.