I ran the City of Angels half marathon yesterday.  I ran my personal best time, which makes me quickie-Mcfastfeet today.  I am not that fast, but considering my age, and that I have only been racing a year, I am pretty psyched. 

The race began at the zoo, ran over Silverlake and Echo Park, and ended downtown at the Civic Center.  It was 43 degrees at the start, which is pretty cold for LA. 

Marathons are weird, but half marathons are weirder.    With all the hub-bub you'd think it was a full marathon.  There were bands playing, cheerleader cheering, costumes, banners, and people stretching in all sorts of strange and alarming positions.  And there are as many port-a-potties as the big races.  Anyone new to running races will giggle at the port-a-potties.  There are dozens, with mile-long lines of people desperate to "off-load" before the gun.  I plan carefully in an effort to avoid them.   

You can really spot the serious runners, as they are the ones with fewer accessories.  Some runners have fancy clothing and clean shoes.  My shoes are mighty scuffed, but I love them.  They have special inserts because I have special feet.  I have a favorite pair of shorts with a zipper for my key, and a favorite tank top.  On cold mornings like this one, I start running in a thrift shop sweatshirt and 99-Cent Store mittens, which I dump on the side of the road when I heat up.   I am not the only one with this idea, and the race organizers gather and donate the stuff back to the thrift store after the race.  At the LA marathon last year I saw hoards of homeless waiting at the starting line for their new wardrobe.  I would too.  Good idea! Get it before it gets trampled! 

Some racers carry stuff; camelback water systems, groovy belts loaded with ergonomic bottles of  sport drinks,  pockets loaded with power gels, cell phones, and cameras.   I even saw one person with an actual antique walk-man cassette player.  I travel light.  I have a small dried fruit energy bar, in case I feel the bonk coming, and my iPod, which I have on a clip on the front of my shirt.  I wear it there because I am averse to having tan lines on my arm, a fact which has made me the focus of much ridicule in my home.  (I don't care, because I look better in a tank top than all of them!)

The iPod is key for me.  If the rumored ban on MP3's comes to fruition, I will end my racing career.  After all, I really only run for enjoyment.  The music gets my heart and adrenaline pumping.  It makes me feel like a teenager at a school dance.  The music makes me move and move and move until my body gives up.  And certain songs (usually related in some way to Dave Grohl) give an added boost, to sling me over a hill, or battle down a long hot stretch without shade.  It is absolutely necessary.  I have been known to turn around and go home when my battery dies.

So here is the story of my music and this race.  I am on mile 10, coming up a big hill on Sunset Blvd over by dodger stadium.  I have good hill legs, and I was feeling okay, but I was doing my usual calculations of how much distance remains and its relative similarity to my daily neighborhood runs, which is a sign of fatigue for me.  But at the bottom of the hill, a song came on from the new Foo Fighter album that I find particularly motivating, so I took off.  Then, low and behold, at the top of the hill , there he was…DAVE! It was a giant billboard of the Foo Fighters, the ones that say "I am KROQ."  It was some kind of omen.   I am sure the people running near me thought I was a freak, as I shouted "Oh my God!  Dave!" I was laughing and smiling, and watching Dave as I rounded the corner into downtown.  (Next time you see that billboard, look carefully…his eyes follow you!)  I fully kicked into high gear, and finished in 2:04:45, a 9:31 pace.  My last half was at pace over 11 minutes, so again, I am psyched. 

After the race, runners get their medals, which is nice.  But the best thing is the snacks.  After 2 hours of running, there is nothing in the whole world better than an orange.  They have water, lame green bananas, pieces of dry bagel, and even cookies.  But the orange is the best.   Mmmmm…sweet, juicy, carbohydrates.    I would like to suggest that next year the race organizers get Dave to hand out the oranges.  Then my pace will really improve!