That's the magic of A Midsummer Night's Run. Instead of driving through the dark, we glued on the pointed ears, and applied the makeup. I did a last quick shave of my legs and chest. The shaving cut on my left leg was still red and looking infected. On Tuesday previous, I did a test run with the wings. The wooden rack I built to hold them at an attractive angle worked great. It was obvious that having the straps over my shoulders was going to cut through to the bone in 20 minutes. I managed to reduce the tension by harnessing them above my biceps, using socks to reduce the friction. They sat lower on my back, but weren't going to chafe. I ran an hour on the treadmill, covering 10 km, without trouble. Ready to go.
|Nothing happened. I think it's broken|
Thank you to Tara and her friend for doing the henna patterns on Jen's arms and my legs.
|The 3:15 pace fairy. I hear he has a new dress every year|
Off to Toronto. We picked up our race packets, then dined at Casa Sushi on the Danforth, looking out at the rain. We killed some time at Book City, where I picked up a copy of Dawkin's The God Delusion which I had always wanted. The girl at Tim Hortons wanted to talk about our outfits, but we just wanted the coffee. For the second time that day, I was turned down my request for Tim's new Dark Roast. It's advertised all over the cups, but there's none in the pot.
|Let the rain come|
We parked at the post office, and bused to the race site. The coffee kept us warm in the light drizzle coming down. Several people got pics with us. The wands were a nice touch. A woman with small child asked for a group shot. I knelt and waved at the little girl. She huddled behind Mom, clinging to her legs. It's scary like meeting Barney in that huge purple suit. Fairies are supposed to be these tiny things that sit on your hand so you can crush them to they if it upsets you.
|The forehead made me look like a Klingon|
One last downpour dumped on us as the race got started, then the sun came out. Ah, the memories of the Leslie Street Spit. I raced this for during my first marathon, before the Scotiabank Waterfront Marathon became big and they abandoned it for more-popular city streets. Crossing the bridge to the spit, Jen's wings came apart and fell off. She whipped out her emergency rainbow rope, which I used to fasten them. Surely the rope burn would ruin her before we were done. A cop shooed us off the bridge to let traffic through.
|The rubble at the end of the spit. Lake Ontario to the South|
My wings were doing fine. I couldn't even feel them behind me, but they stayed secure for the whole race. After stopping to take pictures, I sprinted to catch up to Jen, and my necklace blew apart with a broken string. I scooped it up, but it won't be salvaged. Trailing way behind the pack, our run was quiet with few others around. It was more of a loop than an out-and-back, so there weren't returning runners to see.
|Skyline to the North|
The run was 30 km including out to the end of the Leslie Street spit and back, then over to The Beaches and through the woods, with almost 700 of us entered. The woods weren't lighted, so there was a cutoff near 8 o'clock, that we hurried to meet. They had a timing mat for a split at the half-marathon mark. We did it in about 2:30, which is good for Jen. She will need such strength to do the Barrelman. That ended the delirious happy part of racing, and brought us to the tired part where it's no fun anymore. The sun set, and we did the last 5 km in the dark. Jen's wings held out, with no rope burn. It was warm, not hot, and after the opening shower, only a like sprinkle of rain for a couple minutes towards the end.
Finish -- 3:41 covering 30 km.
It was a good long run, without the pain of finishing a marathon. The medals are beautiful. They spin! Dressing up made it a fun, family event.
|The wings can run|