Vienna Half Marathon Part II (alternatively titled I am The Worst Blogger Ever)

Remember April 18th?  When I promised you the exciting conclusion to my half marathon day in Vienna?  The amazing adventure that only began after the race ended?  Well, here it is: my cell phone died.

Yep, that's what you've been waiting so long to hear all about.  In my defense, being stranded without a communication device is a rare occurrence for me.  I typically carry two blackberries and an iPad (and sometimes a netbook, too).  On that particular morning, however, I had only thrown one blackberry into my race-day bag because the other was charging.  It had looked like I had enough battery to get me through the day.

Maybe, I should just tell the story.  So, my final sprint brings me across the finish line in just under two hours.  I'm hot and beyond thirsty.  I desperately need water.  I see people with water, but I have no idea how they're getting it.  I'm handed my medal.  Great.  Where's the water?  My legs are all but useless once I stop running.  I can slowly shuffle forward but I can't really pick up my feet.  I'm certain that I'll rip a quad if I try.   I follow the crowd as it snakes around the awesome palace that I'm totally not appreciating.  Eventually, someone hands me water and a bag of munchies.  Excellent.  Except, I've yet to recover enough coordination to actually drink my water.  Ah yes, race-brain.

Now I'm in a sea of tens of thousands of racers and spectators outside the palace.  I want to collect my bag so I can find my phone and meet up with my friend who is supposed to meet me at the finish line. I wander, but get nowhere.  I want to ask someone where the bag check is, but my German vocabulary consists of "ein cappucino"* and a few Yiddish swear words.  I spot a guy in a University of Ohio sweatshirt who has already picked up his bag.  Bingo.  He must speak English, right?  Perfect - except that at that particular moment, I don't.  I'm still so toasted from the race that I can't form actual words.  I paw at his shirt to get his attention, say "bag" and make the universal shrug of sheer helplessness.  He points me to the bag pickup.

When I recover my bag, my phone still has some life.  I see that my mother has already texted from New York to see how the race went even though it's 6am there.  I try to respond, but I have no signal.  I try and I try, but nothing will make this phone find signal.  So I take out the battery, put it back in... and it comes back on just in time to die.

Great.  So, now I'm looking for my friend in this massive crowd.  I'm under 5' tall, so I can't see very far in any particular direction.  It's not long before I realize that this just isn't going to work.  My friend and I had already walked the city quite a bit, so I felt fairly confident that I could find my way back to my hotel eventually.  I set off in the direction I think the hotel is in... and, amazingly enough, that totally works.  My hotel was just a few blocks away.

And then there was a shower.  And then was (chicken) schnitzel and beer.  And then my friend and I went out to Schlossburg Palace because I am a total trooper.  There, I learned that Empress Sissi was totally into working out and had gymnastics bars and rings installed in her room.  I also took this awesome duck picture.

The End.

-Gym Belle-

*Although I prefer my coffee black, cappuccino conveniently translates to "cappuccino" in virtually every language.  It's far easier than learning to say "Black.  Just coffee.  No milk, no cream.  No, no  sugar, either.  No, no, no, please put down the cream.  Oh dear lord, how much cream are you putting in?  No, no, it's fine.  No problem.  Thanks," in various tongues. 

Vienna Half Marathon Pictures

At the Expo

On the way to the start

At the start... where is everybody?  Everybody getting ready

 Almost time

Other people runningPost-race chaos

Dazed and confused... but showered and with medal

-Gym Belle

The Vienna Half Recap

It was as if each of the three espressos I'd sucked down throughout the day in a vain attempt to fight off jet lag joined forces around one am. My heart thudded audibly. The hotel's television likewise conspired against me; it refused to stay off for more than a minute, and it always turned itself back on to full volume. I cursed a lot. I counted the endless loops of CNN stories. I counted sheep. Despite my efforts, sleep played the slippery fish. Around three am, I flirted with the idea of skipping the race altogether. I didn't mean it. I tried to console myself with the thought that I hadn't slept well before last month's 15K either. It didn't help. I took one last bitter look at the clock at 3:30. My alarm went off at 5:30.

Luckily, the morning was bright and sunny, and race day adrenaline kicked in. Bag drop was scheduled for 7:15 to 8:15. At 7:15, few people were there. I wandered the start area. I stretched. As increasing numbers of people showed up without iPods, I got nervous that maybe I had missed a rule banning them. I was not prepared to do this race without music.

I relaxed a bit waiting for the start. Other people had headphones, too. Aside from a faint odor and the staggering height of the crowd, all was familiar. I zoned out to Rihanna.

I always say that I'm not going to go out hard, that it's a waste of energy to fight the initial crowds. I've yet to actually heed my advice. Once I crossed the starting line, I became certain that I'd never make up any time I lost at the beginning, so I pushed. For the first hour, I stayed on pace with no problem. I felt confident that I would PR.

We ran through suburbs that could have been anywhere, but the crowd support was good. I noted one religious group that had fans throughout. They had blue t-shirts and signs that said something about Jesus. (My German is limited to handful of Yiddish curses that, not surprisingly, did not appear on the signs, so I can only guess at the rest.) They sang songs and waved. I, too, sang and waved. Inevitably, as I passed them by, I was crooning about strippers, booties and hustling. G-d works in mysterious ways.

The sun was strong, and I was overdressed. I should have been wearing shorts and a tank top, not capris and a t-shirt. The water stations seemed few and far between. Eventually, my pace slipped. My PR was no longer in the bag. We were finally in the heart of the city and I tried to enjoy the backdrop, but the race was increasingly taking all of my energy and focus, even if I wasn't trying to PR.

Around mile ten, I came seriously close to walking, True, my pace stayed below 9:05, but I was thinking about it. I pushed through. The water station at that point was distributing half bananas. For 200 meters, the ground was littered with plastic cups and banana peels. Clearly, Vienna is lacking in lawyers. I slowed up for that stretch; I'm not totally crazy.

After that point, I was close enough to the finish to know I'd make it. I wouldn't PR, but I could come in sub-two. I sprinted towards the finish line mouthing Kanye's Amazing and checked my watch one last time. I had ten seconds. My unofficial time was 1:59:57. Officially, I finished in1:59:58.

As I collected my medal, little did I know that my race day adventures had only just begun...

-Gym Belle-

PS - Pictures coming soon!