Catalina Marathon

It was a run unlike any other. The island was humming with nostalgia, the elements purred in concert, the wind teased the grasslands, and in turn they playfully parried and danced a jig. The sky was clear, baby-blue and a sharp contrast to the greens and bountiful deep blue. Ole deep-blue was littered with white-caps, they dashed and bounced about and displayed unlimited potential all day.

I ran the first 10 miles with Steve and Kristi. Steve was in style, of course, he also gave us great coaching all the way, very effective. Kristi was a joy; she had a perpetual smile on her face and in her eyes, very inspiring. I felt better at the end of 10 then I did at the start. It was time for gdasshoppaw to venture out and tackle the mountain or at least kick it in the chins and chi-run away.

I was off and racing. I passed the orangutan (a hairy guy from N.J. dressed in orange & black) five or six times, we battled for eight miles. The last time I passed him I said, “Orangatang (yes, I called him that) the only way you’ll pass me again is if death comes and sweeps me from my feet!” The orangatang replied, “Oh ya, the next time I pass you, I’m gonna spank you and take your lunch money too!” Suffice to say, I was not greeted by death that day.

As I pranced up and down the hills I came across pumpkin (a woman from San Francisco dressed in orange and black). We ran together for an hour and I shared half a dozen fables. Finally, I told her, “Pumpkin (yes, I called her that) at 21 my plan is to kick sand in your face and if necessary crunch some knuckles, anything to climb my way to the front. I was careful to explain that I have no friends on the race course, only foes. At 21 miles I attempted both but she was too wiry and nimble, I couldn’t.

At 17 or 18 we stumbled across Beach Runner Jason. We ran together in perfect harmony. At mile 22 we had us a runners spread fit for a king, at the buffet, we shared and passed back and forth everything but Alaskan king crab legs. We were preparing for the final haul. In my minds eye I was secretly scheming how to beat this guy and shake the pumpkin. Sure, I played the undercover false friend, but what I had in store for these two pigeons was complete and utter defeat.

At mile 23 we all kicked in the turbo overdrive. Ohh it was beautiful! I was moving soooo fast that the scenery became blurry, my eyes began watering, my face was contorted and pulled back, alas, the G-forces were taking effect. I was afraid of breaking the sound barrier and being disqualified so I pulled back a few degrees, Ohh it was beautiful! I dove across the finish line yelling at the top of my lungs “FREEEEDOOOOMMMM!” (Breaveheart) Simultaneously, the wind sang a sonnet, the grass danced a poem and the sea vibrated in rhythm. Ohh it was beautiful!

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I most enjoyed the island, the people, the elements, and running with Steve, Kristi, Jason, Pumpkin and even the Orangatang. Sure, we concluded our differences on the trail, where they should be settled, in a duel, and my weapon of choice was my running shoes. Yes, my running shoes performed that day, like no other. I may have them bronzed and set next to Wayne Gretzky's bronze statue at the Staples Center, or something like that.