Hand-rolled cigarettes smell different. It's a burnt gummy-bear smell mixed with the taste of envelope adhesive. It's an angry smell. It's a cocky, mean-spirited and evil smell. Ok, that's all over-the-top, unless you are being passed by a 5'4", 60+ year old French guy who is smoking a hand-rolled cigarette while you are running a marathon in Paris. This probably means he rolled it while he was running. He shuffled past me at about the 15th mile of this 26.2 mile marathon. He was smoking. He was 25 years older and he was passing me. Pathetic. When people ask me how I did after a marathon or half-marathon, my first instinct is to tell them, "I survived." No one wants to hear that. They want a number. I have now figured a number. I finish in the top 65%. This statistic is accurate. It is also accurate to say that I finished first when compared to all of the people I looked at behind me. I have run 6 or 7 mini-marathons which are half marathons here in Indianapolis. I have run two marathons and my running career is over. I have retired. There was a nice going away party at the Goodwill™ when I dropped off my shoes. Over the course of time, I have enjoyed asking people, "What did you learn from that?" It is only recently that I have considered how unbearably annoying that is. For the sake of fair play, I am going to turn the question on myself. Challenges that are agreed upon in bars between friends late at night after much drinking should have a 72 hour, "no-questions-asked," return policy. Because there was not one of those in place, I agreed with 3 other friends; Doug, Steve and Kevin, to run the Paris Marathon. We agreed to running this marathon after we had eaten at one of our favorite dive restaurants in Luxembourg City, Luxembourg. All the restaurant served was shrimp, boiling in trays of butter and garlic with baguettes to sop up the butter and garlic. White wine is poured by the drum to wash this down. Patrons sit on benches with long community tables. Regardless of the languages being spoken, our table was speaking them in conversation to the other people loudly and incorrectly. We were living up to an American standard. "Carry the flag and represent!" I always say. Somewhere, later in the evening, we started having the typical, "I'm so fat, I really need to get in shape conversation." Comparative fatness becomes the next stage of this predictable three-act play. "I have a hard time staying motivated to exercise. I always say I'm going to do it, then I get too busy and I'm back to fat." Oh wait, here it comes…."I know, we should really push it, let's run the Paris Marathon!" I don't live in Paris. Kevin lived in Luxembourg, as did Steve and Kevin. These are all in the same time zone and climate as Paris. I live in Indiana and traveled a lot. I traveled by plane. (You are reading my pre-running excuse list, so please pay attention). It was very hard to keep a regular running schedule and I had to run alone. This makes it hard to develop speed and rhythm. And cake had not been identified yet as a negative food contributor to running, so I was eating it regularly for stamina. Ok, that last statement is suspect. Perfect weather for running include relatively cool temperature, little to no wind, low humidity and cloudy. We got all of that. It was perfect. There was even a bonus, every once in a while there was a mist. Paris is basically flat. I'm a big fan of flat. My mini-marathons are in Indianapolis, pancake flat. My other marathon was run in Chicago, very flat route. These are not accidental choices. In all, this race was optimal for all runners. Besides that, it was Paris! The route started at the L’Arc de Triomphe. Along the way runners saw the Louvre, Champs Elysees, Cathedral at Notre Dame and other famous stuff I might remember if I wasn't so focused on not dying or hating cigarette man. Many details are worthy of omitting. Many people crowd together and then they move at various speeds until they don't and victory is claimed. In my case, I believe that the runners from Kenya had received their medals and financial rewards, showered and boarded a plane by the time I crossed the finish line. A couple of details of note: 1. If you travel internationally by plane the night before a race, get no sleep and then start to run the next day, you are going to need to stop and pee, A LOT.
2. There are many marathons in France just as there are here. There is a difference in that they advertise the various races by giving out cups of wine from the various regional races to runners starting at the 17th mile. There are 10-12 of these wine stations along the way to the finish line. These wines taste brackish, regardless of quality, after you have run that many miles.
3. Encouragement along the way comes in the form of music played by live bands. Every mile or two, a band plays songs to keep you motivated. All the bands are traditional French bands playing traditional French music. It sounds like "The Sound of Music" score, played twice as fast. The bands are accompanied by a concertina and songs are sung in French, 26 times.
4. The French seem suspicious of water and abhor Gatorade™. That is why there are so few stations of water and none of Gatorade™ throughout the race.
5. Everyone running is friendly even though few speak your language. There is a lot of smiling, a little English and then the person you are next to runs ahead of you or motions you on. At the end of the race, by some miracle, we all found each other. This "all" includes our wives to take us back to Luxembourg City, Luxembourg, about four hours home. On the way home I remember nothing. I ate three packages of M&M™ Peanut and drank a ton of fluid and slept. The big thing was that we all did it and got our medals. I finished fourth of the four, but I was still in the top 65%.