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I just don’t have a rant in me today.

This close to the 4th of July, last week’s rant still holds true.

http://wildcelticrose.net/blog/?p=3584

I’m not sure if I’ll be up to squeeing tomorrow or not…

Jussayin’…

~L

Mood: WTF?







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* It's taken me a while to get to this race report because I had to make a heartbreaking decision on Monday and am having a hard time with it. I am having to force myself to write this. (those who read my blog know why I'm so sad)

** I had a great race and thought the event was well organized, I did however have a very bad experience trying to volunteer which is also chronicled here. (warning, I say some things that aren't nice because 5 days later my blood still boils thinking about it)

I drove up to my friend Julie's house up on Queen Anne Hill and rode the bus down to Qwest Field to go to the expo and pick up my packet (traffic and parking down there suck pond water). Julie had driven in to work across the lake in Bellevue and caught a bus downtown to meet me.

This is where I met “The Medical Director” of the event.

In his case, the “MD” on his badge should have stood for “Major Dick” or “Master Douchebag” (sorry if that's crass, just be grateful that there wasn't an “F” in his title).

The leader of the bike medics had posted a plea to the Cascade Bicycle Club's message board needing volunteers to ride medical support on their bikes. I figured that I could run the half, then hop on my bike (just needed a spot of chainlink fence near the medical tent to lock it to in the morning) ride the course in reverse out to the turn around on I-90 and then ride the full marathon course. It would be a brick workout and would keep me from getting stiff after the run.

The nice lady who I emailed said she'd check on how to work that.

It seemed simple to me, I'm local, I can get anywhere on the course I need to be on my bike.

The bike support folks at the Seattle Marathon ride back and forth on a specific section with their ham radios.

Seems simple right?

Wrong!

I walked up to the Medical booth at the Expo to check in and was greeting by a nice young doctor who was the start line doctor. He gave me my information with a smile and appreciation for volunteering.

I joked that I was psycho for running a half marathon and then getting on my bike, but I was a sucker for an event that needed medical bike help.

That's when the “MD” went off on me.

He was a short, paunchy, balding rude little man from New York (no offense to my lovely friends from New York, but this guy was a stereotype in the worst way)

So there I sat, thinking I was doing a good thing getting my ass chewed by “Archie Bunker” about how it was a stupid idea and wouldn't work and I couldn't do it unless I could start with the runner waves because there was no way to get on course.

What a load of crap. Perhaps this nasty man should have sought out the advice of races who use bike support and locals before making that ignorant proclamation. Bike riders trying to stay upright going slow enough to stay with a wave is ineffective and pretty ridiculous.

Nice way to treat a highly qualified volunteer with local knowledge asshat!

That type of behavior may fly where he's from but not among people that actually have manners.

I restrained myself , did my best to smile, and simply said “All-righty then” and started to walk off.

The very nice Start Line Medical Director appeared somewhat mortified by this jackasses behavior and said, “Do you have medical qualifications?” to which I replied, “13 years as a paramedic, ACLS, BTLS, flight training and incident command.”

He said, “Wow, that's great; would you be interested in working in the medical tent at the finish line, you'd be wasted on the bike away.” (the bike folks were there mostly to call to activate the EMS system)

He was so nice and so sincere that I said “Yes” despite my desire to tell the rude, arrogant, egotistical MD sitting next to him to piss off.

* more on that bad idea later

Packet pickup went smoothly, we checked out the expo and then headed to dinner at Buca Di Beppos.

We met Daria & her husband, Syliva & her partner Franci (a 78 year old Ironman) Robert, Alice, Laura and Kay for a fun filled dinner (and a trip to visit the men's room to see the art work)



We all went home early in hopes of getting a good night's sleep before boarding a shuttle at an ungawdly hour to get to the start line. Julie and I wanted to get there extra early because there were problems with the shuttles at the inaugural Rock and Roll Arizona race in 2004.

yeah, that sleep thing... It didn't happen. We stayed up a bit late chatting and giggling, then Mr Katz (her feline companion) woke us up in the wee hours of the morning, not once, but twice hacking up what must have been the biggest hairball ever. (oh the joy of long haired kitties)

There were no problems with the shuttles at this race, the process ran like a well oiled machine.

We were at the start line way too early and were very cold (I hate messing with bag check and go minimalist) so we got some discarded shrink wrap from a pallet of water and wrapped up in it to stay warm.



The starting line was very well organized. The corrals started a couple of minutes apart so when yours went there was room to run. It still took almost 40 minutes to get to the start (I was in corral 22 where I never found Kay or Daria) but once it was our turn to go we were actually able to run.



I didn't find Laura in the corral either but she caught me on the course and greeted me with a friendly tug on my pony tail.

The first part of the course ran along the Green River. I think they missed a great promotional opportunity to let participants know that this is the very river where the infamous serial killer Gary Ridgeway (aka the Green River Killer) dumped his bodies.

One of the great things about the Rock and Roll series races is the energy and the music, bands, cheerleaders and more bands.

The energy was amazing throughout the entire race.

We ran down the Boeing access road and then made our way over to Seward Park and Lake Washington. I had a bit of deja vu as I ran the same course as I rode at the LiveStrong Challenge the weekend before.

I ran into Tory along the Boulevard...



We had a Bald Eagle (who ruined a lot of people's time because they had to stop and look/take pictures) watching us from his or her fishing perch along side the lake. (at least this one didn't drop a salmon in the road, getting hit by/tripping over eagle dropped salmon is a hazard here)



At about mile 9 the concrete started getting to me. Most of the roads up there are concrete and it starts to beat the body. Especially someone like me with a lot of scar tissue from the fractured spine and pelvis and who hasn't been getting the running time in.

We had a short but steep pull up to I-90 where the full marathoners did a short out and back across the bridge and the half marathoners continued on through the tunnel.

It's interesting that I've spent more time on the I-90 express lanes in that tunnel running or riding my bike than driving.



OMG, that tunnel is long, hot and has no air.

The worst part of the tunnel is that someone thought it was a good idea to put an amplified band IN the tunnel

The roar was so deafening that I first thought the Blue Angels were practicing for SeaFair, but it was a band, amplified in a closed area. It actually hurt my ears.

Please do NOT put a band in there next year.

We finally escaped the tunnel and headed into Seattle.



By this time, the lack of sleep, lack of long run training and concrete was taking it's toll and I was hurting.

We had to run past the stadiums up into town and then make another climb, this one up to the lower level of the viaduct. We were grateful for the short bit of shade.

I crossed the finish line with an unimpressive time of 2:58:10.

I grabbed some water and a bit of food, stretched out and reported for my volunteer shift at the finish line tent where I was told my medical skills would be put to good use.

They didn't have my information, tossed me a blank medical credential and a double XL shirt and then pretty much ignored me.

I tried to ask what the procedures were and what I should do, but no one could tell me.

One nice doctor finally suggest I go out towards the finish line to “sweep” (ie bring sick/injured runners in) that's where they put the people without medical training.

So there I was after running a half marathon, stiff, hurting, having been treated like crap by the medical director the day before and now ignored by the people I was volunteering for.

It was grossly overstaffed and the finish line announcer even joked that the huge cadre of medical people looked really really bored.


It was hot, my legs were sore and I was not amused.

I lasted about an hour and half at it until I realized it was stupid and harmful for me to be standing there like that after my race and just gave up and left.

After having such good experiences and being appreciated at other events for my willingness to help and my highly specialized skill set and experience, I was pretty unhappy.

I will not volunteer for these people ever again.

But it was a great, well organized race, I had a blast, spent (not enough) time with friends.

And of course, got a shiny thing.






~L

Mood: Tired









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