Las Vegas Marathon

Most people travel to Las Vegas for a long weekend of gluttonous eating, drinking, gambling, shopping, and whatever other fetishes they may have. Some people travel to Vegas to see the glitz and the glamour of Hollywood stars, Broadway shows, and extraordinary boxing events.

Then there are those of us who go to Las Vegas to spend four hours running 26.2 miles at 6am on a Sunday morning. I can see the relation between me and the above mentioned people. Don’t you?

The alarm went off at 4am on Sunday morning, signaling it was time to choke down a banana and a bagel. As I crawled out of the fantastic bed, I started to question this obsession I have with running endless miles, all for a t-shirt and a medal. So I started to apply the bodylube. Yes, friends, you read it right—body lube. Actually, it is called BodyGlide. It is the deodorant-stick looking miracle substance that prevents my nipples from bleeding and my legs (and other sensitive areas) from chafing. It is truly the wonder substance and a serious necessity for long runs.

My running friends and I met at 5am in the lobby of Mandalay Bay and headed outside into the 35 degree weather and toward the starting line for this race that would consume a half a day of our lives. We were joining about 12,000 other people who were preparing to run either 13.1 miles or 26.2 miles. Regardless of the distance, it is a bit excessive.

The first three miles of the run take us up the famous Las Vegas Strip, passing all of the big hotels and casinos. This was by far the most amusing part of the entire run, only because it was fun to see hundreds if not thousands of people still out partying from the night before. Here were people who haven’t slept in 24 hours or longer, yelling, screaming, slugging back beers and yards of daiquiris in long plastic chemistry-looking tubes, cheering us along and offering us a drink of their cocktails. No thank you. Not quite yet.

We passed these two ladies standing on the side of the street wearing very, very risqué little black dresses that looked as if someone had tried to rip them off their bodies AND no shoes. Keep in mind it is still 35 degrees outside. They really looked pretty tragic, as if they had been on a severe drug and alcohol binge for months. As we were running past, one of the girls looked me right in the eye and screamed “Yes, we are sluts, we know it.”

I almost wet myself.

I’ll let the first part of this experience end right here, but promise to post a few more stories from the run. Just know that after 4 hours and 19 minutes of running, I crossed the finish line. One of my current colleagues finished in 4 hours and 23 minutes and a former colleague crossed the line at just over 5 hours. One other friend of ours ran the half-marathon and finished in 2 hours and some change. We certainly had lots to celebrate the rest of the day and the rest of the trip!

Be well friends and I am open for next-race destination suggestions.