I Survived PCB (WW # 123)

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PCB Half Marathon

Panama City Beach, FL

December 2, 2017

Half Marathon  # 48

I was honored to have Tricia, Teresa and Karen join me for the Panama City Beach Half Marathon. After the previous day's Airboat Adventure, carbo-loading pizza and early bedtime -- we were ready.  We made the short drive to beautiful Pier Park and snapped a few pictures. The race started smoothly with rock music thumping from the speakers.  A male runner somewhere behind me kept shouting "Spring Break 96" during the first mile and that struck me as pretty funny.  I could only imagine his 40(ish) year old running self was much different than the rowdy young man that visited in 1996.



Let's do this ladies!

At the 1st aid station, there were no cups ready.  Huh?  Even though it was hot with full-on sun, I didn't need anything yet.  But when the 2nd one had no cups ready -- my heart skipped a beat.  When I got to the 3rd and saw I'd have to stand in line and wait, I panicked. {And...I may have said something ugly to the volunteers.}  In the next mile, I crossed through traffic to get a cup from a stocked station ready for our return journey on the opposite side of the road.  At the next station, they were dipping cups into the huge coolers (and not waiting on the stupid slow spout).  Finally! 

Little did I know this would be the minor problem of the day.

You see...

They ran out of water.

It was broiling hot.

I thought I was dying.

Shortly after the turn around point and high-fiving my Southern Sole Sisters who were looking strong, I switched into survival mode.  I was roasting.  The aid stations were out; their empty coolers underneath the tables. My heart rate had gotten extreme so I did run/walk intervals for a while with my new friend Tammy from Tennessee.  That helped.  There were a ton of cyclists supporting the course and they graciously offered runners a drink from their own water bottles.  I didn't partake but saw many that did. 

Dude, take a picture of my shirt!!

I did eventually drink water and Gatorade in the final miles, but it was too late.  When I saw the female runner down, my finish time didn't seem to matter any longer.  After another ambulance passed screaming toward the next victim...the true perspective kicked in.  Just finish healthy.

Official time 2:17 and change

It takes a lot  to make me unhappy with a race because it is what I love to do.  I take the risk of not carrying my own fluids.  And, this unexcused debacle did not detract from the fun I had with my Southern Sole Sisters.  That's the true pleasure in running...sharing the experience and the fun.

The emerald water, white sandy beach views were spectacular (no, it is not all condos).  Also, this is one of the most festive finish lines ever.  The announcer enthusiastically called out my name as the rock tunes were blaring and I had my fists pumping in the air Arsenio Hall style.  {I didn't buy that pic!  You're welcomed.}  A very sweet volunteer followed me making sure she got a picture of my shirt -- front and back.  And who can complain about the after party at Margaritaville?  Not me!

Ready for Margaritaville!

We survived!  And jumped!

After delicious food, celebratory toasts and chillin' just as long as we could on the deck of Margaritaville, we headed to the house so we could get the obligatory jump shot and still not be late for our afternoon leg massages and pedicures.  They were pure heaven.  Afterward, we returned to the house to capture another sunset and had a late dinner at Salty Sues.   I think we were too tired to remember a picture.

No filter.

  

And that's a wrap!

Have you ever participated in a race that ran out of fluids?

What is the hottest race you've run? 

Would you wear matching shirts?

 





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