I wandered to the front of the bus, expecting to find everyone asleep. Instead, I found Hopps, Garrett, and Koop still sitting around with papers spread everywhere, discussing plans and jotting down notes, their cell phones at the ready. They had taken matters into their own hands.
Just as important, despite their almost nonstop workload, they had somehow managed to collect a young lady’s phone number today. Like me, they now stood at three for three.
CHAPTER 4
The Amazing Miracle Marathon Diet
Day 4
September 20, 2006
Little Rock Marathon
Little Rock, Arkansas
Elevation: 260'
Weather: 81 degrees; sunny and dry
Time: 4:14:38
Net calories burned: 12,748
Number of runners: 10
B y the time we arrived in Little Rock, Arkansas, the site of our fourth marathon, dawn was fast approaching. Entering my hotel room only ninety minutes before I had to leave it again, I was faced with a simple choice: I could either catch a quick power nap or make some efforts to restore my personal hygiene, which was in a sorry state. There wasn’t enough time to do both. I chose to nap.
Upon waking, I had just enough time to quickly glance at my face in the bathroom mirror before dashing out the door. What I saw wasn’t pretty. I looked like the creature from the Black Lagoon. Maybe worse. Thick, dark stubble covered my chin, and hair was flying in every which direction. Oh, well. The North Face Endurance 50 wasn’t a beauty pageant, after all.
Fortunately, Hopps had told me that today would be mellow. The marketing folks at The North Face hadn’t been able to drum up much media interest, and only nine runners had signed up to traverse the Little Rock Marathon racecourse alongside me. I couldn’t have been happier. We needed a recovery day.
Sitting in a reflective trance as Koop drove the SAG wagon toward the downtown starting area, I relished a brief moment of peace. Very brief.
“What the #?%*!” Garrett suddenly exclaimed, jarring me back to reality.
The rest of us looked at him and then followed his gaze out the front window. Parked along one side of Capitol Avenue was a long column of television vans with satellite dishes perched on top. An intimidating procession of glossy black Suburbans encircled the starting area. Men wearing dark suits and dark glasses stood on each corner, slowly turning their heads from side to side like lawn sprinklers. A large crowd of people was gathered inside the circle of government vehicles, and the sidewalks were lined with passersby attracted by—and adding to—the hullabaloo.
I turned to Hopps, Garrett, and Koop, and asked, “Did anybody else not brush his teeth this morning?”
What we did not know, but would soon discover, was that the governor of Arkansas, Mike Huckabee, was waiting for us at the starting line, wearing running gear, no less.
Thanks to the many logos covering the vehicle, the SAG wagon was easily spotted by the sea of reporters, who immediately surrounded the car. Still cameras clicked, television cameras rolled, and microphones jostled for position in front of me as reporters shot rapid-fire questions in my direction.
A man dressed in running clothes now stepped forward, politely parting the huddle of reporters, and shook my hand.
“Hi, Dean,” he said. “I’m Mike Huckabee. Glad to meet you.” His calm, reassuring demeanor immediately put me at ease. He asked me how I was feeling after running three marathons in three days—surprising me with his intimate knowledge of the Endurance 50 agenda—and informed me with unfeigned disappointment that he only had time to run six or seven miles with the group this morning. He then gave the press a chance to ask each of us a few questions and snap photos of us shaking hands. It was an interesting way to warm up for a marathon.
Alexandria and Nicholas officially started the marathon by shouting, “On your mark. Get set. Go!” Amid flashing lights and wailing sirens, our small group shuffled down Capitol Avenue,
Just as important, despite their almost nonstop workload, they had somehow managed to collect a young lady’s phone number today. Like me, they now stood at three for three.
CHAPTER 4
The Amazing Miracle Marathon Diet
Day 4
September 20, 2006
Little Rock Marathon
Little Rock, Arkansas
Elevation: 260'
Weather: 81 degrees; sunny and dry
Time: 4:14:38
Net calories burned: 12,748
Number of runners: 10
B y the time we arrived in Little Rock, Arkansas, the site of our fourth marathon, dawn was fast approaching. Entering my hotel room only ninety minutes before I had to leave it again, I was faced with a simple choice: I could either catch a quick power nap or make some efforts to restore my personal hygiene, which was in a sorry state. There wasn’t enough time to do both. I chose to nap.
Upon waking, I had just enough time to quickly glance at my face in the bathroom mirror before dashing out the door. What I saw wasn’t pretty. I looked like the creature from the Black Lagoon. Maybe worse. Thick, dark stubble covered my chin, and hair was flying in every which direction. Oh, well. The North Face Endurance 50 wasn’t a beauty pageant, after all.
Fortunately, Hopps had told me that today would be mellow. The marketing folks at The North Face hadn’t been able to drum up much media interest, and only nine runners had signed up to traverse the Little Rock Marathon racecourse alongside me. I couldn’t have been happier. We needed a recovery day.
Sitting in a reflective trance as Koop drove the SAG wagon toward the downtown starting area, I relished a brief moment of peace. Very brief.
“What the #?%*!” Garrett suddenly exclaimed, jarring me back to reality.
The rest of us looked at him and then followed his gaze out the front window. Parked along one side of Capitol Avenue was a long column of television vans with satellite dishes perched on top. An intimidating procession of glossy black Suburbans encircled the starting area. Men wearing dark suits and dark glasses stood on each corner, slowly turning their heads from side to side like lawn sprinklers. A large crowd of people was gathered inside the circle of government vehicles, and the sidewalks were lined with passersby attracted by—and adding to—the hullabaloo.
I turned to Hopps, Garrett, and Koop, and asked, “Did anybody else not brush his teeth this morning?”
What we did not know, but would soon discover, was that the governor of Arkansas, Mike Huckabee, was waiting for us at the starting line, wearing running gear, no less.
Thanks to the many logos covering the vehicle, the SAG wagon was easily spotted by the sea of reporters, who immediately surrounded the car. Still cameras clicked, television cameras rolled, and microphones jostled for position in front of me as reporters shot rapid-fire questions in my direction.
A man dressed in running clothes now stepped forward, politely parting the huddle of reporters, and shook my hand.
“Hi, Dean,” he said. “I’m Mike Huckabee. Glad to meet you.” His calm, reassuring demeanor immediately put me at ease. He asked me how I was feeling after running three marathons in three days—surprising me with his intimate knowledge of the Endurance 50 agenda—and informed me with unfeigned disappointment that he only had time to run six or seven miles with the group this morning. He then gave the press a chance to ask each of us a few questions and snap photos of us shaking hands. It was an interesting way to warm up for a marathon.
Alexandria and Nicholas officially started the marathon by shouting, “On your mark. Get set. Go!” Amid flashing lights and wailing sirens, our small group shuffled down Capitol Avenue,
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