Eye of the Tiger, baby!

The Bix is history. I am not. I ran the race and lived to tell about it. I am thankful for that. And before anyone accuses me of taking a jab at the late John Chapman, God rest his soul, I am not. And to those who witnessed my Tickle Me Elmo incident, I was not trying to bust his chops either. More on that later.

 Contrary to advice in the Bix Runner's Guide, I did not get a good night's rest. I worked until after 11, spent an hour and a half getting all my stuff together for today and refueling the iPod with a fresh lineup (running on shuffle, I had been through all 470 tunes on the Nano after Thursday's regular morning jog). So, I didn't hit the sack until 12:30 or so and then I was up at 5:30 to shower and gulp down a bowl of cereal. And of course I had trouble getting to sleep: nerves, mostly about arriving on time, mingling in such a huge crowd (several thousand) runners, being adequately prepared.

But, between the adrenaline rush of excitement for this grand new experience and a Monster energy drink on the drive up, I was ready to run!

First, though, I had to wait in line to use the porta-john. A block away, Brady Street was a mass of bodies -- most in running garb, some in assorted costumes, from Mr. Incredible to a trio of Marilyn Monroes, to Elmo and Grover and more. A guy sang "Proud to be an American" and another the national anthem. The crack of a starter pistol sounded and we were off. Well, those on the street were off. I mean, those on the street two blocks up from where I was standing in the next-to-last group, were off.

Eventually the rest of us started moving our legs. Shuffling slowly, like electrified zombies, at first. Then, as runners began to find their pace and spread out, were able to actually lift feet off the ground. A few blocks on the flats and there loomed the legendary, menacing Brady Street Hill. As we passed the announcing block and the starting line, we were kickin' it to "Eye of the Tiger." Great way to start!

And it was apropos, I thought, as I climbed that short, steep stretch. "Ain't so bad, ain't so bad," I taunted the hill (in my head anyway), just like Rocky did Clubber Lang in "Rocky III," from which "Eye of the Tiger" sprang into the American consciousness to become THE anthem of determination.

OK, so didn't quite kick Brady Street Hill's ass, but it was not as intimidating as I had feared. But it was early. And the early going was wonderful. I had a strong pace; I was jazzed to be doing the Bix. And there is no better motivation than hardbodies, swinging ponytails, great gams and, well, you get the picture.

I have to tell you, my trepidation about the monster crowd disappeared quickly. The crush of runners was a wild experience. Everyone constantly jockeying for position -- not necessarily in a competitive way, because the elite runners who win this race are way ahead in their own division (the leader and his immediate followers passed me on their return at the 2-mile mark!), but just as a matter of finding and maintaining a comfortable pace. Sweaty arms bumped and rubbed past. I juked right, then crossed left, the full width of the street. I pulled ahead of a few then others strode past me. And on and on like that.

The entire race route was lined with spectators, fans, friends and family cheering on runners. And there were bands! I had my iPod on at the start but only heard parts of three or four songs. Hell, it was inadvertently on pause for probably half the race and I didn't notice because I couldn't hear it when it was playing for all the live music and cheering. Water tables and sprinklers helped us keep cool at intervals.

The mile markers are huge banners stretched across the street. They seemed really far apart. :) So it was quite a lift to see one come into view -- especially that number 4, first marker of the return leg. Oh, but the Brady Street Hill wasn't the only rise and fall. There were a couple more, and being farther along they were actually harder on the legs.

And while downhill can play hell on your knees, Brady Street: The Return was a welcome sight. For the bottom of that hill marks the beginning of the end.

Of course, as with any race you can see the finish well before you’re upon it. And there’s a false finish, too, that area with a banner or sign that’s a little closer than the real finish and you’re thinking, “yes! Almost there.” But you know that’s not quite it, and it can be a little dispiriting. But you suck it up because it would be really lame to walk across the finish unless that was your intention or the absolute limit of your capabilities. If you’ve run the rest, stopping early just is not an option.

Coming Sunday: Part 2: The post-race refreshment bash. Wherein I’ll tell the story of the Tickle Me Elmo incident and the Lost & Found incident.

Today's Stats

Temp: 75 degrees F (at start time)

Distance: 7 miles

Weekly Total: 15 miles

Treasure: 2 headbands -- one returned to its rightful owner. The street was too crowded to stop for the Cardinals rally towel and the smashed watch in the first few blocks. Drat!

How I did

Chip Time: 1:10:26

Time: 1:13:14

Split: 3:54

Division (M45-49): 265 of 518

Overall: 4,638 of 11,143? (Announcer said 18,057 at the start)

iPod Playlist (shuffle)

Broken Bed - James McMurtry

Medley: Tales of a Jedi Knight/Learn About the Force - John Williams

An Innocent Man - Billy Joel

A Day in the Life - The Beatles

I Want to Know What Love Is - Foreigner

Just Like a Pill - Pink

Give Me Love (Give Me Peace on Earth) - George Harrison

Running to Stand Still - U2