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Sports May 8, 2005 State Director Foster
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I had done a poor job prepping for my third Mini. The last time I ran 13 little-used BMV sites
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So my plan was to find [and write] one story for each of the 13 miles of the
Services half-marathon, using the handy recorder for some mobile field
interviewing.

So here are my impressions and the impressions of the people I met [who
graciously chatted with me, a stranger] along the snaky route through
Indy's west side of town.
INtake
Communities Starting line: At 7:33 a.m., I join runners in Corral "K", which is my
Fact Files section. We're all a bundle of nerves and energy as the front of the pack
Message finally gets moving. Washington Street becomes silent only during a
Boards prayer; the rest of the time everyone seems to be chatting about everything
Multimedia/Photos from nagging injuries to fears that they aren't ready. One guy wonders
whether to tuck his shirt in his pants.
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I ask a 44-year-old Zionsville mother of three what she is thinking.

Star Links I ask a 44-year-old Zionsville mother of three what she is thinking.
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"The Ben-Gay smell," she jokes, taking a whiff of the smell of pain-
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Star Headlines Mile 1 marker: I reach it in 10 minutes, 5 seconds. I'm following Olympian
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of latest news Frank Shorter's advice to pace myself. In the first mile, I step on someone's
abandoned drink, soaking my left shoe, and I watch three guys bypass the
Cyber Port-o-potties by, uh, taking a leak in the grassy knoll along White River
survey
Parkway. I get a much more pleasant view as we pass the Indianapolis
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efforts to unify the
Zoo, thanks to the very-visible elephant exhibit.
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IRL racing Mile 2: 20 minutes, 12 seconds. There's always a character or two in a race
circuits? with 30,000 people. I see one right away. Brian Breclaw, 35, of Griffith,
Yes Ind., is paying homage to the cult movie hit "Napoleon Dynamite."
No
His shirt says "Vote For Pedro" which was a key plot point in that movie.
Breclaw is eager to high-five anyone he sees and solicit a verbal
endorsement, even getting the street side musicians to yell the motto in
their microphones. Some oblige him.

"We're out here for fun! It's a good time. It's only 13.1 miles. It's easy" he
tells me.

OK, he's pulling my leg. His running partner, Kevin Uchman, 34, of
Merrillville, Ind., watches Breclaw's antics with amusement - and a
prediction.

Uchman jokes, "The best thing about it is that after 10 miles, he's going to
be sore from high-fiving everybody - and I can slow down."

I didn't see them again for the rest of the race, but I saw on the results
board later that Uchman finished in 2 hours, 41 minutes. Breclaw came in
at 3 hours and 35 minutes.

Mile 3: 29 minutes, 56 seconds. Running on the edge of the road, I've

slapped enough hands from well-wishing spectators on the sidelines to
need some Purell sanitizer.

Mile 4: 39 minutes, 48 seconds. Barely maintaining a 10-minute pace, I

probably cost myself a few seconds by slowing down to interview Adolfo
Rodriguez Jr., just because of the message on his white T-shirt.

Hand-written, it reads: "Getting married in two weeks."

Rodriguez, 26, of Noblesville, with his mother Mary running next to him,
says his fiancée Tiffany Banter is waiting for him at the finish line.

"I'm just letting everybody know I am happy, excited and can't wait," he
said.

The big date is May 21. I forgot to ask him about the wedding gift registry.

Actually, what's really amazing is that Adolfo and his mother are still
together at this point in the race. The reality that running is, ultimately, a
together at this point in the race. The reality that running is, ultimately, a
solo sport, is settling in. Many former running mates I saw at the starting
line seem to have separated. I DO see a lady in a pink shirt who is wearing
the intentionally misspelled message "Thanq Jesus" on her back.

I guess she's not really alone, is she?

Mile 5: 49 minutes, 58 seconds. The Internet is now part of the spectator

experience. We all wear a computer chip on our shoelaces that
electronically transmits our progress to the race organization system. (No
more fibbing about times!) But the technology allows loved ones and
friends to log onto www.festival.com and track a runner's time. That's what
Julie Polizotto, 46, of Valparaiso, Ind., tells me her sister at home is
probably doing. But she's not necessarily tempted to step things up to look
good. "Normal pace," she tells me.

I take a quick water spray from a couple of kids with super soakers. We
pass a "Speedway" filling station and I pray I don't run out of gas.

Mile 6: 1 hour, two seconds. There goes my 10-minute pace, right as we

enter the Indianapolis Motor Speedway for a 2.5-mile lap around the track.
For newcomers, it's a cool novelty. For me, it's the biggest mental hurdle.

Mile 7: 1 hour, 10 minutes, 29 seconds. I've put the digital recorder away
and plugged in my girlfriend Ronnetta's MP3 player. The musical artificial
stimulants include Tubthumping, the 1997 hit by the band Chumbawamba.

Mile 8: 1:20:42. I touch the famous bricks on the starting line near the
Speedway's Pagoda, and boy could I use a pit stop like those Indy Racing
Cars.

But just then I bump into an inspiring story in the midst of thousands of
runners fighting the grueling heat radiating off the track's asphalt.

Some people do this for fitness. Some do it for fun. Some do it for lost
family or friends.

Krystal Renner, 21, of Carmel, is running in the memory of high-school

classmate Ashley Crouse. Ashley, also 21 and a student at Indiana
University, was killed in a hit-and-run accident in Bloomington April 12.

I covered that story for the Indianapolis Star after the police and federal
marshals had to go to the northeastern U.S. to catch and arrest the driver.

Ashley was signed up to run this year's mini. You can still see her name on
the results page.

"We ran the mini every year together," Krystal tells me. "This would have
been our fifth year."

I ask if she feels like Ashley is watching her.

"Oh yeah," Krystal says. "She keeps pushing me…. Every time [I feel like
slowing down] I get a burst of spirit from her."
Krystal got a lot of spirit Saturday. She would go on to finish the race in
two hours and 32 seconds.

Mile 9: 1:32:16. Somewhere near 16th Street and Olin Avenue, we pass the
spot where a mini runner died last year. A 32-year-old Fishers man
celebrating his wedding anniversary collapsed despite paramedics' attempts
to resuscitate him. It was the first fatality in the then-28-year-history of the
race. I ran that race in 2004, and I remember seeing him being worked on.

Jeffrey Fisher, 42, of Terre Haute, saw it too. "I was right behind him," he
tells me. "I looked, and went on."

Fisher knows about how the heat and stress of a long race can exacerbate a
medical condition. Two years ago, he said, he was diagnosed with Crohn's
disease, a gastrointestinal malady that can kill you if left untreated. Fisher
said he respects his body and listens to what his doctors tell him. He has
taken several breaks, but he is aiming to finish.

He finishes this race a minute before I do.

Mile 10: 1:44:08. As many people are walking as running, and the corrals
that we were placed in -- alphabetical, based on estimated "finish times" -
are a blend. I started in "K". I see that I have caught up with two fellas
from "G" and "E" -- pretty good.

But here comes a lady from "N" who gains ground and passes me. Not so
good.

Mile 11: 1:58:06. We're running beside the White River, headed back
towards Downtown, but all I can think about is the spilled Gatorade that
has dried on the roadway and made my sneakers sticky on the bottoms.
The sound of runners stepping on empty paper cups makes for a sickening
cacophony. Various cramps contribute to a tortured 14-minute pace, which
ends any dream of beating my time last year of 2:07.

Some guys have set up a "beer stop." I bypass it, but clever idea, boys.
Maybe next year.

Mile 12: I forget to write down the time but not my injury report: I have a
gimpy left kneecap, my right thigh is tight and my eyes are stinging from
suntan lotion.

Mile 12.6: I will myself forward, promising in 2006 not to let today's race
be the only time in a year that I run 13 miles. Lesson learned: training not
only improves your time, it can keep you healthy!

The finish line: At about 10 a.m., I throw my arms up and come to a halt.
The 500 Festival's results page will show I completed the mini in two
hours, 20 minutes and 49 seconds. I come in 12,422th place, out of [I
believe] 25,012 finishers.

Post-13.1: Military Park. I am famished [and think I am finished] until I

hear a funny line spoken by a daughter to her father. Rebecca Nimrad, 29,
of Indianapolis, is trying to inspire dad Mike Creed, 56, of Lake Of the
of Indianapolis, is trying to inspire dad Mike Creed, 56, of Lake Of the
Ozarks, Mo., past the finish line.

"What's a few more steps after all those miles?" she tells him. Both have
sore legs, like me, but are happy about their respective times.

I ask her to elaborate, turning the digital recorder back on.

"The last few steps to get to the exit is like a glimpse of hell," Nimrad tells
me, smiling. Then she turns the tables, interviewing me.

"You know," she says. "You ran it."

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