Race Director Karen Reagler prepares for the early start
A REAL HUMDINGER
That's what the race promo says: humdinger. And I'll agree. Karen and David Reagler, and apparently a large percentage of the population of Wynne, put on a fine event here about an hour west of Memphis.
Karen gives her "mom/lawyer" speech before Jarrett and I set out at 6:30. Arkansas humidity becomes very evident as we head out on Crowley's Ridge Parkway. Still just warming up over the first half mile or so, even my CoolMax shirt stays moist with sweat.
After a straight stretch on U.S. 64 we turn left turn on Route 163. The website’s claims of "very light rolling terrain" hold true—occasional inclines, nothing particularly strenuous. Between chatting with Jarrett, finding an aid station every mile, and picturesque stretches of some forests, cotton fields, and pastures along the Mississippi Delta, the miles move by. The beautiful blue sky also lets the sun whop up on us that much more directly. Whoooeeeee—humdinger.
Several of the aid stations provided a little laugh along the way. Here I pause at the "Marathon Restaurant"
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By m10 or m11 I feel some early blistering. Not good, especially this soon. Lead runners in the pack of maybe 200 begin passing us shortly before the halfway turnaround. Coming back we enjoy an occasional breeze that provides some cooling without creating significant resistance. Traffic on the open course never poses any safety issues. After m16 Jarrett steadily pulls ahead. I can’t keep up with him even though I'm jogging mre than I usually do.
Jarrett (#1 at the far left) and I make the return
By m18 ah'm a'feelin' those Mississippi Delta Marathon Blues. The occasional breeze can’t counter the steadily rising heat, now into the 70's. A long straight stretch toward the m21 aid station gives me a view across the Delta farmland; I see westbound traffic slowing and stopping on U.S. 64 to let marathoners cross.
Reaching the aid station I know I have just over five miles to go, but the heat has sapped so much energy today. One indication: I've emptied my CamelBak. I rarely finish this supply during the race, even with only half as many aid stations.
The last few aid stations bring some good fun:
Mile 22, some strange Arkansas cult. Note the inflatable idol in the back
Mile 23, the Motown station. See all the 45's on the legs of the tent?
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Mile 24, Mardi Gras in Arkansas. |
Mile 25—yeeeehaaaw! (Yep, it's a live baby goat)
Finally I zig-zag back through Wynne to the finish line on the high school track. Later I'll find moderate blistering, though somewhat less than I'd expected, apparently thanks to Body Glide.)
The post-race feed shows exceptional down-home hospitality, definitely humdinger quality: generous servings of delicious barbecued pork, baked beans, coleslaw, soft drinks, and abundant home-baked Marathon Performance Inhibitors (cookies, brownies, Rice Krispie marshmallow treats). All in all a highly recommended fall marathon.
Access to the gym showers helps me feel almost human before I drive to Searcy for an ambivalent visit to my Alma Mater, Harding University.
Beads courtesy of the Mardi Gras aid station
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