Off to the marathon / Photo added, finally!

My friend Patty is running again in the marathon this year, and I've offered to try to meet her at Mile 23. She's worked it out so she knows approximately what time she'll be hitting that spot. They've changed the route this year, so I'm going to a totally different neighborhood; last year, it was in Koreatown, where I used to work, so I knew the area pretty well. This year Mile 23 is near Soto St. and Whittier Blvd., in Boyle Heights. Last year Patrick went with me, but right after we got down there, he "remembered" that he hadn't turned off a pan he'd left on the stove so he left me there and ran home to check (everything was alright); however, we had gotten down there so darn early, by the time he got back, she still hadn't gotten there.

You might think it sounds boring, waiting for someone to hit a specific spot, but it was actually kind of exciting. There was a lot going on - bands were playing - and the people watching was pretty intense. I had a good time, and it was so cool to see her come running towards me out of the group of strangers.

So I'm off again, with two Oreo cookies and some kind of weird Clif Shot - it's this stuff she gave me to give to her, it's like a weird gel or paste stuff, supposed to give her energy. Looks kind of gross to me, but hey, I'm not a runner.

Pictures later.

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Update @ 5:23 p.m.

Met up with Patty at Mile 23 as planned. I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to go directly there - didn't know if I'd hit any road closures or anything, but it worked out perfectly. I took the 5 North and got off at Soto Street. Parked on Soto, and only had to walk about 2 blocks. At the intersection of Soto and Whittier the cops were using a fire hydrant and a hose to shower the runners - it was hot today.

I got there at about 12:15, and walked up to the mile marker. Let me just say right off the bat that I've never been to Boyle Heights. The walk to Mile 23 was through one of those old school Mexican neighborhoods that I've never spent a day of my life in. I passed a guy selling bootleg VHS movies in front of his house. The only title I recognized was that Jennifer Lopez movie, "The Cell." Why would anybody want that? In somebody's yard I saw a chicken: a real, live, big ol' brown chicken, walking around, pecking, acting like any other family pet. I heard Mariachi music from a few houses.

Mile 23 was actually in the middle of a bridge, with a fine view of the downtown LA skyline. Since I didn't really know what time she'd be passing through - I think the marathon started at 8:15, but since she's not one of the elite runners, and there are tons of other runners just like her, her actual start time could be anything after that. I think she said last year she got out of the gate at around 8:45. Anyway, we had estimated that she'd be there between 1 and 2, but I was secretly hoping she'd get there sooner - I was hoping to see her come running toward me at 1:15.

Well, that was before I realized how damn hot it was today. So I'm watching all the runners, and it's pretty cool, to see all the different people who run the marathon. There were a lot of kids, and a lot of old people. One guy in an Afro wig. A couple of guys dressed as Elvis. There was a blind guy, tethered to another guy who must've been his leader, except: I couldn't tell which one of them was blind. Some guys in wheelchairs. A girl in a Superman cape. Some other girls in tutus. A man wearing a paper version of a winged helmet. A couple of runners came up to me and asked me to take their picture with their throwaway cameras - they wanted LA in the background. Each time I'd give the camera back to them and say, "Now go! Run! Good luck!" One man, when I was sure I'd missed Patty, and was standing there shading my eyes with my hands and what was probably a concerned look on my face, told me "Smile!" So I did. Another guy told me, "Don't ever do this!" Some people collapsed right by me: one guy must've hurt his knee; he stopped and sat on the curb to my left. He sat there for a long time until another guy ran up and asked him if he was okay. They both left running, the first guy limping a little, grimacing a lot, but running. Another guy pulled up behind me, and was, I think, trying to throw up. He didn't.

So 1:15 came and went, and I started thinking I had missed her. Last year, Patrick was actually the one to spot her; by myself, I wasn't sure what my chances are. My vision is pretty bad, and sometimes a lot of people came by at once. This year he was working on a home improvement project (installing a much-needed fan in our bathroom), so I went by myself. When we'd talked about where I would be, Patty asked me to be on the left side of the street; when I got there, I realized that to get to that side, I would have to cross in front of the runners. I decided that was a bad idea, so instead I stood right under the marker, on the right side. No one was on the left side, and I thought she might see me there. Anyway, I finally spotted her at about 10 minutes to 2, and dashed through the field of runners. She was running (last year she was walking at Mile 23, but ran after she saw me), and so I had to jog to keep up with her. She didn't want the Clif Shot (I don't blame her: I just tasted it, and it was nasty), but did take a couple Oreos with her. I kept up with her for awhile, but started to get too hot (imagine how she felt!), so I told her to stop talking to me, and run! Run! I pulled over to the side and took some pictures (coming soon!) of her back, caught my breath, and headed home.