Seaside Half Marathon

Winds were gusting between 30 and 60 miles per hour and the temp was about 40 degrees when we arose at 4:50 a.m. to get ready for Sunday morning's half marathon in Seaside, Florida. The race was organized to help raise funds for the Seaside community's charter school. We were out the door by 5:31 and headed for Seaside, as were a long line of other motorists. Traffic guards organized traffic from all directions and we were soon parked in the Publix parking lot, 1.2 miles from the race start. There we shed everything we thought we could possibly do without and got in line for the shuttle to the post office. It appeared that that were only three white shuttle vans, about half the size of the average school bus, and a 15-passenger United Methodist Church van to shuttle most of the 1800 race participants from the parking lot to the race. We waited about 10 minutes for our turn to board and arrived at the race site. After waiting for another 10 to 15 minutes for our turn at the porta-potties, we hunted and found a place to hunker down out of the cold. We then headed for the race start -- only to stand in place freezing for 20 minutes because the shuttles trying to get all the participants to the race made for a late start. So we started cold, but warmed up quickly. The headwind battered us all the way to the half-way point. The sight of the bay in two places distracted me from the effort of pushing against the wind; otherwise the view was the houses advertised in booklets stuffed in our race packets, their prices listed at $1.2 million and above.
Butch and I finished together (because he waited for me a couple times) in about 2 hours and 25 minutes. I stopped once to retie my shoe, hoping to ease the agony of three nasty blisters on my right foot; and the second time, just a mile and a half from the finish, under the guise of needing to use a porta-potty but really wanting a break from the pain in my foot. I don't know why my right foot always blisters. If I'd have been tougher, though, we'd have finished faster! Even so Butch beat his West Virginia half marathon time by 7 minutes, and I beat mine by two minutes. And while the scenery wasn't as natural as the West Virginia race, I finished a lot warmer. Volunteers handed out water as we crossed the finish. And then we headed under a tent where all participants carried away a medal and a Vera Bradley bag. My bag and Butch's will go to the granddaughters.