My Marathon Mega Mistake

On Saturday morning, I thought I could pick up coffee and enjoy a relaxing Saturday treat before taking my dog for a walk along the marathon route.

The clouds deceived me, I thought it was earlier than the actual 7:55 time. I left my neighborhood and went to the coffee shop. When I finally figured out the time, I tuned in to KFGO because I knew the marathon started at 8 a.m. (turns out the half-marathon started at 7:30 a.m., another of my miscalculations.)

I knew the marathon route snaked through my neighborhood on four streets. I knew I had to get home fast. I thought I was in the clear because the runners couldn’t possibly get that far south so quickly.

I was so wrong.

I attempted to drive back to my house using every back road I could think of – and I’m pretty good at finding alternate routes around my town.

CLOSED. CLOSED. CLOSED. Every road was closed.

Finally I parked near University Drive. I would walk the seven blocks home and go back for my car later. This wasn’t in the order I thought the events of the day would go, but I was still feeling okay.

It was raining and I couldn’t carry everything with me. I left the umbrella in the car and put my hood up. I took my fancy coffee with me and I secured my dog’s leash. I couldn’t find any plastic bags in my car in case my dog had to stop, but it was only a few blocks.

As we got closer to the race route I couldn’t believe the number of runners. I think all 20,000 registrants funneled through my neighborhood at that moment. After 20 minutes, I realized I would not be crossing that street – or the one two blocks over where runners ran in the opposite direction. I started to feel trapped. At least it stopped raining.

My dog and I headed back to the car and on the way he needed to use nature’s restroom. I had no plastic bag and I felt the eyes of thousands of people watching what I would do.

I made a split-second decision. It hurt my wallet and my pride, but I dumped out my fancy coffee and scooped up what needed to be scooped up. Ugh. That scoop cost $4.61. I quit drinking coffee, again.

Okay, back to the escape plan. I knew my best bet was to get on the east side of the runners. I had one last option on the Fargo side – only to find out that route was closed for runners as well.

I started to get frustrated. Really frustrated.

I hopped on Interstate 94 and drove to Minnesota. (That sounds dramatic, but it’s just across the river.) I drove north and crossed back in to North Dakota on the reduced lane Main Avenue Bridge. After some skillful maneuvering I made my way south to Island Park. I could see runners. This would be as far as I could drive.

My dog and I hopped out of the car. We found a spot to cross in the sea of runners and we finally walked home. It was only nine blocks.

We stayed a block away from the race route and admired landscaping and occasional complete silence. My frustration melted away and I laughed at myself.

Once we arrived home, I took a deep breath and listened. From the next block I heard cheers from spectators and the sound of cowbells. I checked my time.

My Fargo Marathon took 1 hour, 48 minutes.

That time put me in the middle of the 6,000 half-marathon runners who completed 13.1 miles on foot.

I’m hoping to improve my time for next year.