It's a perfect day.

The weather was absolutely perfect…50’s, sunny, and dry…you really couldn’t ask for better racing conditions. My parents and I woke up at 5 to get ready for the race. I tried to find some breakfast, but guys…New Orleans just doesn’t quite work yet. The business district gives the impression of normalcy, but the façade is so thin, and very easily cracked. The night before, for example, we couldn’t get our car out of the parking garage because the card reader was malfunctioning…so, we were stuck in the garage. We ended up just taking a cab, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, but it’s the awareness of little stuff like that that makes you realize the city has a very far way to go.

So, in the morning before the race, trying to find food…nothing was open. I know it was really early, but it’s a big city, and we were in the middle of it…there should have been something open, you know? I ended up desperately bolting into a neighboring hotel and grabbing some bagels and bananas from their not-yet-open buffet.

We headed to the race and got there with just enough time for the standard standing around and last minute bathroom stops. When the race was about to begin, it was still a little chilly, but I knew better than to run with my long sleeve shirt on, so I gave it to my mom and rubbed my arms nervously for the last 5 minutes before the start. My mom cheered us off, and then left to go to a rehearsal and concert back in Lafayette (she was originally supposed to walk it with us, but she got asked to play a concerto so she [rightfully!] opted to do that instead).

My dad and I started off with a nice leisurely pace and finished the first mile in 10:12. The crowd finally began to thin out a bit after that and we could pick it up to 9:34 as we ran past the completely empty French Market. The French Market of my youth is gone, guys…the place where we would ‘illegally’ escape to during school field trips has literally evaporated with the water that conquered it. All those booths and people begging you to buy little things you wanted, but didn’t need…all gone.

After passing the French Markey area, we headed up Esplanade Drive and found a marathoner who was comfortably running our pace. He was trying to run a marathon in every state…he was up to number 36, I believe. We ran that mile in 9:47 and ended up running with him for most of the rest of the race.

Mile 3-4 went by more quickly (9:22) and I really only remember one girl who had accidentally taken off with the half-marathoners when she meant to do the 5K race which was to start 15 minutes later. Everyone around thought she was joking when she asked where the 5K turnaround was…poor girl! At that point, she had to run back and would have been at 8m roundtrip…quite a difference from her planned 3.1m!

Mile 4-5 included a ‘hill’ up an overpass and I was surprised that not only did I not get tired or winded from the incline, but I actually felt good and…dare I say it?... liked it?! Maybe those Garfield Reservation runs are actually helping! In any case, we finished that mile in 9:12. It was during this mile that we began to see the leaders coming back towards us, which was pretty cool. The leader at that time was actually a marathoner, not someone doing the half. I was bummed that we didn’t get to see the first girl before we turned for a little out and back…

Mile 5-7 (8:46, 9:09) was the out and back, with our midpoint of the race being at the turnaround. I took a Hammer Gel (raspberry) around mile 5.5, and had that same gag reflex I was having trouble with in Chicago. I’ve been using them regularly during training to get used to them, and I thought I was fine with them, but I guess I have just been using them before exercising, not during. I know I’m fine with them on the bike, but somehow taking them while running just doesn’t quite agree with me. Something with that bouncing motion just makes me want to reject it. I guess I either have to start taking them during runs when I’m training, or find some other option…

Mile 7-8 (9:14) felt good, as I think my dad and I (and 50 States Guy) were all in a really good groove. We were talking, but not talking too much, and just generally enjoying the run by the park. This area had been submerged in about 9 feet of water. One of the coolest aspects of the race was that they put the mile marker on half of the sign, and the amount of water that had flooded on the other half. It’s pretty hard imagining 9 feet of water, but you could really see the water lines on all the buildings, and so you really had to understand that it was real…not something on TV, not something abstract…but it had really happened, and it had happened there…

We really started to pick it up for Mile 8-9 (8:49) and I thought for sure we were going to be able to break the 2:00 mark. I realized then how far I've come even in the past few months...and that it’s amazing how much just a few minutes makes in terms of stamina. When I ran the Fall Classic Half in October and was really pushing myself to PR with a 8:40 min/m pace, mile 8-9 was already pretty torturous…it was cool to realize that now a 9 min/m is relatively easy for me. Whenever I get bummed about not being all that fast, I just need to remember that a year ago a 5m run was still almost unattainable. It’s incredible how much I’ve done in the past year. It makes me so excited to keep going and see where I can go with all of this. I just hope I haven’t reached some sort of genetic potential just yet…

Mile 9-10 also sped by, and we finished in 8:46. At the 10 mile marker, there was some upbeat music playing (Takin’ Care of Business, I believe) and my dad started doing pirouettes and dancing. One of the race photographers was situated there, so assuming they’ll be able to identify him (they might have missed the bib number with all of his spinning!), he’s going to have an awesome race picture.

After Mile 10, my dad started waning (I think that little dance took a bit too much out of him!) and I kept trying to get him more energized with the “Just 5K left!” stuff, but it just wasn’t working (we finished in 9:16). He saw how I had reacted to the Gel and didn’t want to take his. I finally convinced him to around 10.5, luckily. Just around that point, there was a house that had put up a HUGE banner that said “Turn for the Worse” as we turned the corner. They had beer out for anyone who wanted some, all sorts of candy…and even cigarettes for the totally insane! They had a lot of music playing too…it was great to get that boost as we were nearing the final miles. (For those that are wondering, I didn’t pick up any beer, candy, or cigarettes. Somehow the fact that I couldn’t handle a Gel made me think those other vices might not have been a great idea…)

Around Mile 11.5 my dad started to feel a little energy from the Gel and asked me if we were going to still break 2 hours. I calculated we would come in around 2:02, and he said we should try to still break 2:00. So, we said goodbye to 50 States Guy and I picked up the pace and used Liz’s words of wisdom with “Look at my shoulder blades and just keep going!” I also tried the “Just 15 more minutes! Think about how much better you’ll feel if you break 2 hours!”, but that one didn’t quite seem to work. In any case, we did pretty well and managed to finish that mile in 8:26 .

We probably should have tried to pick up the pace just a little earlier and then been able to do it a little less extremely, because 12-13 slowed a little again (8:46) and I think my dad just wanted to be done. I could have shouted stuff at him to make him kick it in, but I wanted him to have fun and I had also promised my mom I wouldn’t kill him…I’ve never been one to break a promise…

The last .1, I realized we just weren’t going to quite make it under 2:00 even with a sprint to the end, so we didn’t push it until the point of death. We just comfortably sped up for our fans and finished in 2:00:13 (chip time) with smiles on our faces.

It was the best race I’ve ever ran. Yeah, I’ve ran faster and of course it also would have been great to knock that 1 second off each mile and come in under 2:00, but really…it was just a blast to be able to just have fun with my dad and be a 9 min/m pace bunny. And I have to admit it was a bit of an ego booster…who would have thought I’d ever pace anyone?

Afterwards, we stood around with Susie and waited for Nel to finish…she had an awesome run too, knocking 12 minutes off her previous best! Then, we ate red beans and rice, drank some Michalob Ultra (by then I was ready for some beer!), and watched the marathon winners come in (2:36:36 was the winner—no paid pros were at the race). Obviously, I don’t usually get to see the winners actually win…I don’t think I’d ever seen anyone run through the banner before, so that was pretty cool.

We got back to the hotel with plenty of time to shower, pack, and get kind of relax a bit before having to check out. We went to the Hard Rock Café for lunch (tried for the House of Blues, but it was closed). Hard Rock was open, but just barely. The entire downstairs was still unusable and the menu was only a few items long…not a problem for any of us, as we just wanted some much-deserved burgers, but was just yet another eye opener.

After lunch we drove around a bit to kind of see the more damaged areas of the city. Overall, it was such a weird mixture of hope and despair. You’d drive through some neighborhoods and there would be FEMA trailers in front and people were outside working on their houses, and you felt like there was some hope of things pulling through. But then…you’d keep driving and all of a sudden all signs of life were gone and everything was totally empty and the houses were totally destroyed and it was just obvious that no one was coming back…and these weren’t even the really disparaged areas. You’re still not really allowed in the 9th ward, even if we had wanted to go there. We just drove through little middle class subdivisions that had had really cute old houses that had been just destroyed. The cars that were left barely looked like cars, and there was still glass in the streets. The thing that impacted me the most was the spray paint on all the houses…every single one of them had been searched and then marked with something like this:

The top quadrant is the date the house was searched, the left had the number of animals that had been found, the right was the code number for the person that searched the house, and the bottom quadrant was the amount of people that had been found. If the people who had owned the house had especially asked the Animal Rescue to come and search for a particular animal, the results of that search were also spray painted on the house. I don’t know why this spray paint code was such a big deal to me, but somehow it just made everything look like a war-zone in my eyes and…well…spray paint on houses, you know? It’s just not right, somehow.

The Saenger Theater, where I went year after year in those Greyhound Buses filled with High School kids to see shows like Don Quixote and Miss Saigon, is never going to be active again. This theater is a landmark of my adolescence, but more than that, it’s really an historic landmark that will forever be missed by generations of southern youth. People came from all over the greater Louisiana area to see Broadway shows there. Of course there will be another theater before long, probably a ‘better’ one. But nothing can compare to that old building where you could just breathe in the past lives of so many people being awed and amazed. I almost wish it had just been taken away, as it will eventually be. To see it now completely gutted and barely standing, when I had before remembered it as a place of lights and glory…it filled me with a kind of despair that is hard to describe. When a person dies, everyone understands. But places? You just don't expect them to leave in your lifetime...there is no preparation for their dissapearance. How can you explain your love of a certain inanimate building?

After the drive, I got dropped off at the airport and my trip came to an end. I sat outside with my broken phone and tried to sleep, but uh…the sidewalk outside of an airport isn’t really the best place to sleep. I did nod out for a while, but I couldn’t really enjoy the beautiful weather with all the traffic around. So, I parked myself near a pay phone and called anyone whose number I could remember. (Yeah, pay phones…remember those? I didn’t. I had to call my calling card company and beg them to give me my code number again. I had the STUPIDEST question as my security question and couldn’t answer it to their satisfaction.)

So, that was my race day. The plane flights all functioned with surprising accuracy and I got into Philadelphia (I’m in Philli for a week to play with the Haddonfield Symphony) a few minutes before my planned arrival time and got to my Grandmother’s by 1:30 in the morning, exhausted…but happy.

Now…to make myself find a gym so I don’t forget how to swim and bike in the next week…