and back onto the trail, and I begin to climb some more. Up and up and up, to Dog Lake and Blunder Fork. What a fitting name for a blundering fool like me to be here at this moment.

On go, to land at the Desolation Lake aid station (65 miles) after 1:00 aM. Like a beacon in the night, their campfire pulls us in, this friendly and giving group of people with hot chocolate and laughter. They brighten our night. As comfortable as it is here, it’s also cold! They tell me it’s 35 degrees. We need to move on, and quickly, too.

It’s even colder as we cross the basin, pass the lake, and climb a short switchback to Red Lovers Ridge. We lose the trail for a few minutes and drift across the ridge to see the lights from a small town off in the distance—a gorgeous sight.

We see another runner coming and wait to ask him to help us find the trail. It’s not long before we’ re redirected over some rocks and upward to the right. The trail is more of a hard-scrabble rock climb.

It’s getting to the wee hours of the morning, and both Joyce and I are beginning to nod off; we’ re fortunate to stay on course while our brains nap. We roll along the ridge for a while as a big old fat crescent moon tops out and shines its light on the trail for us. If not for the occasional dips into darkness, we could douse our lights and run with the moon. She peeks between the trees and ridges as we run on toward Scott’s Peak aid station (69 miles).

There we stop to change batteries, and Joyce steps inside a tent to steal some warmth. She finds Paul and Jan sacked out on cots. We meet Pam Reed as well. After a cup of hot chocolate, the entire herd decides to move out. We all slowly walk and roll off the mountain into the Brighton Lodge aid station (73 miles).

M*A*S*H, A SUPREME SUNRISE, ANT KNOLLS, AND THE GRUNT

Our merry band of travelers slides into Brighton Lodge just before 5:00 am and are greeted with aM*A*S*H-unit atmosphere: bodies are everywhere. People are coming and going, while others are just lying about.

Coming in from the intense quiet of the dark mountain night, the chaos within this room is startling—like stepping through a looking glass with Alice. I find a seat at a picnic table while Joyce collects my dropbag. We take our time repacking gear, getting down some hot soup, hot chocolate, and soda. Iregrease my essentials with Vaseline, check my feet, and relax for the first time in 24 hours.

I’m beat, and I feel great. Kevin comes in while we prepare to leave. His wife is crewing for him. Paul’s wife is crewing for Paul. My wife is crewing and

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pacing for me. Our many different friends and their families have all become one large, friendly and supportive family. We take longer than we should, but it’s well worth it.

I leave 30 minutes after arriving, much stronger than I came in. And I need the strength for the next climb up to Catherine’s Pass and Point Supreme at 10,400 feet. Our entourage of Paul, Jan, Joyce, Pam, andI climb together, while twilight chases the darkness, and sunrise catches us on top of Point Supreme. Timing is everything! Pam pushes on ahead on the climb and is gone. I see her once more as she moves steadily away from us. Paul, Jan, and I follow Joyce as she leads us to the top and then back down off the very steep and rocky backside. We walk the ascent and continue to walk the descent.

Joyce attempts to push us, but Paul’s legs are shot, and he refuses to be pushed. We hang together, content at the moment with each other’s company and the forward progress as it is. We find the Ant Knolls aid station (78 miles) in good spirits with a wonderful view of the ridges above and valley below. We stay only long enough for a hot chocolate and then quickly push on.

We can see the next climb from the fireside and soon find out why it’s called The Grunt. It’s steep and tough, but it really doesn’t last that long. Cresting the ridge, we’re blinded by the sunlight, and we run blind to the next copse of trees and its shade. We round the hills as we stay under tree cover for the next mile or so on our way down and into Pole Line Pass aid station (81 miles). We pass a fellow on horseback followed by a few lambs as we approach the station, where we smell breakfast in the air.

SHOTGUNS, FULL-TILT BOOGIE, GLORIOUS FACE PLANTS, AND WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH ME?

These folks cook us a breakfast of scrambled eggs, potatoes, and sausage, while Paul shares his orange juice. A new day. Fully fed, changed into lighter and cleaner clothes—T-shirt and shorts again—and unburdened of the heavy nighttime running gear, I feel like a new man.

Jan’s still busy with his gear when we’re ready to pull out and says he’ll follow shortly, so Joyce and I leave with Paul. We had walked most of the last section and now begin to run, and run fast. Paul says he’ll continue to walk but can’t stand it as Joyce and I surge ahead. Each time we slow to power walk an uphill, we find Paul running up behind us. We climb a few very steep but short sections of trail, but mostly it’s fast and easy running, and Paul stays with us through Sandy Baker Pass and Point of Contention. We’re still pretty high up and can see a ways off, riding a trail that hugs the edge, when we suddenly hear a shotgun blast and feel the air move around us. Just above and out of sight,

some hunters had shot at something, and the pellets from their shell had hit the grass and trees around us. Paul and Joyce both hit the ground, while I stand there like an idiot, looking in the direction the shot came from. Paul yells, “Hey, there are people down here!” but we push onward and away from this idiocy. Paul falls behind on this ridge, as the trail turns more steeply downhill, and Joyce and Iapply my big butt theory to roll on down. We’re cookin’ and rockin’ and rollin’ and churnin’ and burnin’ as we scream all the way down to a sliding stop at Mill Canyon aid station (87 miles), where I suck down a slice of cantaloupe. Then we march slowly down the rolling dirt road.

As the road makes a big U-turn, we slide off the side of it back onto a trail. Not just any trail, but a smooth, slightly rolling, and tilted downhill trail of smooth dirt and a few rocks—the kind of trail a trail runner dreams about.

Joyce picks up the pace, and I follow close behind. She goes faster, andI stay with her. She goes even faster, and I hold on still. Ever since Lamb’s Canyon, she has been urging me to go faster and coaxing me to keep the faith, but now for the first time, she decides she’ d best get out of the way. She moves over, and Isurge past her, legs flying, arms pumping, smoothly, easily, letting gravity and my momentum push me even faster and faster as I speed down the trail over humps and bumps, picking up more speed as I fall forward, attempting to keep my feet and legs under me.

Joyce holds on for a while, but she eventually loses ground, and then she falls completely off the back of the bus as I hit full-tilt boogie. This feels good. Ifeel great. I’m feeling one of those feelings that comes over arunner only once in a while—that wild abandon, freedom from distraction, no cares, no fears, no pain, I feel only the wind and my feet as they lightly touch the ground. This feeling is to die for. All the deaths I had to die to get here was worth it. All that matters is right now! I’ma kid again. Runners and walkers step out of my way, while others have no time, and I simply go around them. Joyce yells at me,

COURTESY OF JOE PRUSAITIS.

Near Sandy Baker Pass at mile 85 of the Wasatch course.

Joe Prusaitis MY MOST UNFORGETTABLE ULTRAMARATHON 1 107

“What the hell is the matter with you?” I can barely hear her when I stop to check to see where she is.

I wait a few moments for her to catch up, and then we continue, a little less rapidly but still too fast for the rocks and roots we’ re dancing with. Joyce tells me to pick up my feet or I’ll trip. I always seem to run with more of a shuffle, barely clearing the ground, which is none too bright at this pace on this kind of trail. So, yes, [ignore her and continue as always . . . and finally I trip and apply my face to the trail in a most wonderful face-plant. It rates an 8 as far as falls go and leaves a lovely imprint of my face for the runners who follow.

At the bottom, we find a stream of icy cold water. I stop and stand in it for amoment—it feels so good!—before climbing out of the creek bed to push on down a dirt road to the last aid station, a short hill leading us into Cascade Springs (93 miles).

CLIMBING THE WALL, THE BOMBING OF MIDWAY, AND FLYING IN WITH BOTH FEET UP

I stop to change my wet shoes and socks and to check and fix my feet. Thave avoided blisters to this point and want to keep it that way. I drop everything and borrow a single hand-held water bottle, filled with ice, for my final plunge. One last climb, and it’s all downhill after that. “The Wall” is just around the corner and not far up a slightly uphill-tilted road that eventually becomes a steep climb of about 500 feet.

We power walk all the way to the top, hugging the shady side of the street. Afterward, the wide dirt road is five miles long and full of rocks and washboard ripples. No shade, no wind, no clouds, and no let up. We run most of it, cutting

Joe, ahead of Errol Moore, at the finish of the 1998 Wasatch 100.

* ‘COURTESY OF JOE PRUSAITIS

the tangents, running corner to corner as we rush down off the top toward Midway.

We make a few detours to avoid cars, but otherwise we make good time. Coming off the hill, we have about 300 yards of flat dirt road before turning left onto pavement. Up this road on the shoulder for more than a mile, then a right. We walk and run now, my energy spent. I surge a hundred yards and then walk a few steps, and repeat. The road bends to the left and then another half mile, followed by a right, and a quick left. One hundred yards up a short hill. I can see the church from here and want to finish with one last surge. A small crowd alongside the road is cheering for me to go, so I do. I’m so easy!

I churn up the hill, make a sharp right, cross the street, jump the curb onto the sidewalk, and push up to the last turn. I make the left in a quick burn and go all out from there toward the finish line banner just 50 yards away. My legs were already warmed up to this kind of running from just a few miles ago, and the pace comes back easily for this one last charge. I pass two runners just before flying under the finish banner with both feet well off the ground. Joyce would have been proud.

And What | Learned From It

Prepare Yourself Physically and Mentally

Physically: Do the proper training (if you can) for the distance, altitude, heat, cold, or whatever it is where you are going. Give yourself enough of a foundation so that you feel confident going in that it can be done. Mentally: Do as much up-front research about the event as you can. Experience counts for a lot, but experience lacking, ask someone else who has the experience. Learn the course, plan your dropbags, try to know when you’ll need warm- or cold-weather gear, flashlights, supplements, crews. The more you know, the less you’ll be surprised. According to my good friend, David Berdis, “It’s better to be looking at it than looking for it.” | have dropped in at a few events, showing up without knowing much more than how far it was. Sometimes it worked, but usually it could have been better.

Attitude IS Everything

Focus on finding the good in the worst of situations. Getting yourself down doesn’t help you or anyone around you. Your positive attitude will help others, and we can all use any help we can get. A good or bad attitude feeds on itself and grows, so the logical choice is to pick the good one. Makes me think of Henry Ford’s words: “If you think you can or think you can’t, you’re

Joe Prusaitis MY MOST UNFORGETTABLE ULTRAMARATHON M109

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The 2 Autobiography o of Clarence DeMar: Part VI

Clarence DeMar As a Speechmaker. Here’s His Talk on Why Athletics Can Help Make For a Balanced Life.

by Clarence DeMar

CHAPTER ELEVEN: SPEAKING OF RUNNING

Public speaking and Marathon running don’t necessarily go hand in hand. But after the 1922 B.A.A. race I was invited to make a speech which let me in for fifteen years of platform appearances in schools, churches, clubs, Y.M.C.A.’s, jails and C.C.C. camps. For one who usually doesn’t talk very much I seem to have given my vocal chords quite a bit of exercise. The funny part about this speech making is that I have been invited back to the same place in several instances.

One of the most thrilling occasions was when I first spoke before a High School. This was in Berlin, N.H., in the fall of 1924. The filled hall, the enthusiasm of youth, the eagerness with which they listened to anecdotes about running, and their applause at the finish of a talk that was not too long, quickly convinced me that my favorite audience is a Junior or Senior High School.

There is one other place besides a school where I have always been sure of awell-filled hall, and that is in jails! Twice I have spoken before the State prison at Charlestown and once before the Reformatory at Concord. At Charlestown I thought the audience was a little cool. There was something of the atmosphere ofachurch service. But was invited back a couple of other times. After the talk, one prisoner spoke to me because his brother was a famous half-miler. At least, I’ve never found any well-known runners there. And it is a claim of many that no good printers ever go to jail. So as arunner and a printer perhaps I’ m fairly safe!

The audience at Concord seemed quite enthusiastic. This was not a church service, but an entertainment. As the rest of the show was by professionals I felt

© 1981 by The New England Press

that I’d be an anti-climax, but as I was fresh from a B.A.A. victory they gave me a fine welcome.

I guess most of the speeches have been fairly satisfactory. An American audience is rather docile and probably wouldn’t say so even if they were disgusted with me. However, the only complaints that I have had have been that either I didn’t tell enough about my races or else I didn’t talk long enough.

Besides the church talk on “The Race of Life” published in the Christian Herald, (had another talk on “What Determines the Winner” which a reporter caught and printed in the Boston Globe. More recently I had a talk on “The Greatest Difficulty in Marathon Running.” This was published in the April, 1936, American Legion Monthly, under the title, “They mean well, but—.”

Since one of these talks explains in as few words as possible why I believe athletics can help make for a balanced life, I want to include it here.

“Tn school we used to express proportion as ‘two is to four as fouris to eight.’ And the ends, two times eight, balanced the middle, four times four. Now success in marathon running requires a sense of balance and proportion.

“At the outset some one might say that all the publicity and fame that goes with athletic success is out of all proportion to the importance of the achievement and that the one so honored would surely get a swelled head and become socially unbalanced. There is no doubt some danger of this with those of high school age; but after one has reached the maturity of a marathon runner he will have received so many knocks that all this temporary honor simply balances it.

“In getting ready for the race the most important thing is to do a lot of practice. The amount and speed may vary with individuals, but a great deal must be done. I averaged one hundred miles per week for two months before April 19. In proportion as the amount of work is increased so more refreshing sleep is necessary to balance this wear and tear on the human machine. With the exception of one or two nights a week, I think it is necessary to spend nine or ten hours in bed each night with eight or nine hours of sleep. This is very difficult when there are so many things going on that one wants to take in, but it is necessary. A man when asked the secret of his living to be nearly one hundred said, ‘Isleep nine hours every night.’ Some one exclaimed, ‘Sleep nine hours every night! Why he never lived one hundred years, he only lived fifty!’ But though you only live half your life, you must get plenty of sleep to balance the hard work in training.

“While the running and the sleep are the most important things from my view point yet from the questions many people ask you’d think the food was. For hogs and cows, agricultural experiment stations have learned that a balance and proper proportions of proteins, carbohydrates and fats is very necessary for the best results in producing pork and beef. However, my experience has been

that we humans do not need to be so fussy. While there is still lots to learn, yet, having gone a year on a well balanced diet with proper calories and found it a lot of bother with no benefit, I’ll simply say that according to my present knowledge food is one place where the sense of balance and proportion is not so obvious. We humans seem to be on higher level than hogs, so far as food is concerned, at least. Very likely the balance is there in a simple home diet, so well that if we fussed with it we wouldn’t make the proportion much better and we might take all the joy out of eating.

“There is also a sense of proportion necessary in the relationship between marathon running and the other affairs of life. Some one has said: ‘All work and no play make Jack a dull boy,’ and some one else, ‘All play and no work makes him an awful dumbbell.’ Whether marathon running is work or play, it must be balanced with the proper amount of other interests.

“To show the danger of over specialization there is the story of the boy who was brought up in the far west and learned all about horses, but nothing else. While an infant his mother died and his father brought him up miles from anywhere, and taught him how to take care of the horses to the neglect of everything else. He learned how to feed the animals, how to clean them off, and how to break them in. He learned that if a horse broke his leg he must be shot. He also learned to tell a good horse when he saw it. As a young man he knew as much about horses as any one, but he didn’t know anything else.

“One day his father took him many miles to a train to come East on business. The boy noticed a woman, the first one in his life. ‘Dad,’ he exclaimed, ‘What’s that?’ ‘That,’ replied dad, ‘is a woman. You’ ll get married to one some day.’ ‘I want one now,’ persisted the son.

“After a few months in the East, sure enough the son got married and returned to the ranch with his wife, leaving his father to complete his business. Some months later the father went home. He found the horses well looked after.

That was to be expected for the son understood horses. He was a specialist with those animals.

““By the way,’ said dad, ‘How’s the wife?’ ‘Oh,’ said the son, ‘It’s too bad about her. She went out to get a pail of water, fell down and broke her leg, so I had to shoot her.’

“So over-specialization is a very bad thing.

“With me, Ihave my daily job as a compositor. I also have a troop of scouts and a Sunday School class. These activities keep me from becoming over specialized as a marathoner. On the other hand, I have to guard against becoming tied up with so many petty activities that I’’Il become distracted and have nothing left for the race. With my living to earn, my scouts and my class work, I felt I had plenty of interests to prevent my becoming a ‘nut’ on my race and over-specialized.

“Yes, to be successful in marathoning one must have a sense of proportion between the fame and other activities of life.

“There is also a sense of proportion necessary between any selfish momentary joy one may get out of some habit and the main thing he has in mind. There are some things that bring a quick thrill but no permanent success. The runner who would be near the front must have a sense of proportion between the minor ‘kick’ of self-indulgence, and the bigger joy of success.

“Any one who obeys these senses of balance and proportion while getting ready will be in good shape for the race. They are: the balance between work and rest; the balance of simple food, but not so stereotyped as with cows and hogs; that balance between the game and other activities; and the sense of proportion between a quick thrill and the main thing he has in mind.

“Then after the race gets under way the runner must gauge his pace in proportion to the distance. Anyone who takes his five or ten-mile pace for a marathon will become very tired before he gets there and will probably not finish. I always have a vision of the distance stretching before me and so measure my endurance, making the pace in proportion to the distance.

“One also needs a sense of proportion as to where his power to go ahead comes from—within or without. I would not deny that some cheering from without helps a little, but don’t be deceived into thinking that a gaily decorated running suit, a lot of rub-down, or an exhorting bicycle rider can be more than one part in ten thousand compared to the power to go ahead that is within. A bicycle rider once said, ‘You know that runner I had? I exhorted him, begged him, prayed him to go faster, swore at him and still he would not do anything but poke along.’ Certainly not; the power to go ahead is within—not without.

“Then a sense of proportion is necessary in case of minor aches of distress or blisters. If there is distress, why not endure it as a minor thing compared to the great fame that is to be yours at the finish? That, of course, does not mean for any one to force himself against internal pain which might be serious.

Always slow up for a pain in the side, until it goes. But for a blister, or an abrasion, or a sore muscle, just go faster to get the distress over with quicker!

“But not only in running but in much of life is a sense of balance and proportion necessary. As is to be expected with anything concerning life, there is something about it in the Bible. After Saul had become king and had been sent down to destroy the Amalekites and all their cattle, he came back with some of their best live stock. Coming upon the prophet Samuel, Saul said, ‘I have done as the Lord commanded.’ ‘What then is this lowing of cattle?’ asked Samuel. ‘Oh,’ said Saul, ‘These are just a few of the best ones I brought back to sacrifice.’ ‘Listen,’ said Samuel, ‘When you were little in your own sight, you were big in the sight of God; but when you became big in your own sight, you became little in the sight of God; you’ ve lost your job as king. To obey is better than to sacrifice.’ So we have a sense of proportion between what Saul thought of himself and what God thought of him; and between sacrifice and obedience.

“Later, in the New Testament is the haranguing of the Master against the Pharisees who didn’t have the right sense of proportion between the outside and the inside of the cup; between formalism and love; who couldn’t tell the difference between a beam in their own eyes and a mote in the other fellows’; and who strain out a gnat, but swallow a camel. Probably you can find other things in the Bible about a sense of balance and proportion.

“Tn life we can find illustrations. Printing to be tasty and artistic must have the proper balance and proportion. But more important than this proportion in the arts is the proportion in human affairs and relationships. Here is a home where the parents are active in the church and the children are pleasant and helpful to all. Here is another home where the father and mother are equally active in the church but without the same sense of proportion are more insistent on trivial forms. The children are ornery and rebellious. Is there any relationship between the magnifying of details by those in authority and the rebellion of youth?

“Tt is not easy to keep the proper balance and proportion between work and recreation, between saving and generosity, between being a good fellow and yet being careful not to be walked on, between being enthusiastic about one’s religion, and yet being careful not to be fanatical. In some things of life where the proportion is bad a sense of humor will relieve the situation. But on the whole there are great changes to be made if the prayer of millions is to be answered: ‘Thy kingdom come.’”

Reprinted with permission of The New England Press.

Clarence DeMar’s autobiography Marathon will continue in the next issue of M&B with

Chapter Twelve: Slipping? Chapter Thirteen: Victories in Old Age

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Free transportation to the start

@ Free baggage transportation to the finish

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@ Finish in front of a huge crowd in downtown Scranton

@ Over $15,000 in prize money awarded to the top 10 men and women and the top 3 masters runners men and women

ENTRY INFORMATION

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Fox Cities Marathon

Truly a Community Event in the Heart of Packerland, This Top Midwest Race Offers Something for Everyone.

F ALL MEANS football— namely, NFL and the Packers—for the 14 communities along the Fox River collectively known as the Fox Cities, one of Wisconsin’s fastest growing areas (now over 200,000 residents). Fortunately for the 2,500+ runners who travel to the area each September for a festival of races, these Packer-loving residents also } know how to host one heck of § a marathon.

How “big” are the Packers in the Fox Cities, which lies just 30 miles southwest of Green Bay? Consider this: if the Packers home game scheduled on race day 1999 had a noon start, “we would have changed the marathon’s start time from 8:00 A.M. to 7:00 A.M,” says race director, Bret Younger. He’s serious. Here in the Fox Cities you don’t interfere with the Packers—at least not successfully. During the 1998 race, the finish line announcer piped in Packer updates in between names of finishing marathoners. In fact, Packermania is so strong here that at one water station you’ll feel as if

July/August 1999 FOX CITIES MARATHON i 119

for the 1999 race because the Packers are playing at home on race weekend—and they’re facing the Vikings.

FOX CITIES INFORMATION: Again, the Fox Cities Convention and Visitors Bureau is your best bet. Request a copy of The Answer Book: Your Guide to the Fox Cities. Conveniently, the bureau is located right off the highway in Appleton.

GETTING THERE: Anyone driving from the eastern United States should get to Milwaukee and then take Route 41 north to Appleton. From the south and west, head north on Route 151 out of Madison up to Fond du Lac, and then take Route 41 to Appleton. United Express, Midwest Express, Skyway, Northwest Airlink, and Comair all fly into Outagamie County

Regional Airport in Appleton.

you’re really on Green Bay’s Lambeau Field (read on for details).

Simply put, here in the Fox Cities, the Packers are HUGE. But not to worry: with the scheduled 3:15 P.M. Packers-Vikings home game this year, residents can spectate or volunteer at a water stop or the finish line and still be home in time for the pregame show. There should even be time to drive to Green Bay for the game—which an estimated 1 in 10 Fox Cities residents will do.

The Fox Cities, also known as the Paper Valley, is home to the world’s largest concentration of paper mills and is considered one of the nicest places to live in Wisconsin. The 14 communities include Appleton, home of escape artist Harry Houdini; Kaukauna, with its 320-acre nature and education preserve; the city of Menasha, along the north shore of Lake Winnebago, Wisconsin’s largest inland lake; the city of Neenah, with its nationally recognized historic

July/August 1999

downtown; Combined Locks, the smallest incorporated community in the Fox Cities; Kimberly, along the banks of the Fox River; Little Chute, nestled in the heart of the Fox Cities, just east of Appleton; the town of Menasha (not to be confused with the city of the same name), 143 years old and situated on the picturesque banks of Little Lake Butte des Morts; the rustic, quaint, and semi-rural town of Neenah (why do they name their towns after their cities? Sorry, we didn’t ask!). And let’s not leave out Buchanan, Freedom, Grand Chute, Greenville, and Vandenbroek, each contributing a distinct personality to this community along one of the few rivers in the United States that flows north.

RACE HISTORY

The Community First Fox Cities Marathon began in 1991 as a way of

unifying the 14 neighboring communities. What better way to connect them than to schedule a marathon to go through as many of the cities, towns, and villages as possible? Instead of joining in border scuffles, energies were poured into a joint effort to host a high-quality running event. It’s this “community attitude” that is helping Fox Cities remain one of the best marathons in the region— currently ranked fifth in the midwest in the Ultimate Guide to Marathons.

Gloria West, owner of a race promotion company at the time, was the driving force behind the first two years of the race. Through 1997, three others had handled the race director’s chores. After John Safranski resigned the directorship in April of 1997 to open a business in Door County, a new partnership was formed with the Appleton and Neenah-Menasha YMCAs. The YMCAs agreed to manage the Fox Cities Marathon, and Bret Younger, physical director at the Appleton YMCA, was tapped as race director. The affable and unflappable Younger combines years of experience directing complex Y events with savvy marketing and business skills.

SOMETHING FOR EVERYONE

In addition to the marathon, race weekend offers an array of other events: a marathon relay; a half-marathon, starting at Triangle Park in Kimberly and following the second half

of the marathon course; a 5K, which, like the marathon, finishes at the University of Wisconsin-Fox Valley campus; and a top-notch kid’s run, which takes place on Saturday in the front lawn area of the Barlow Planetarium on the Fox Valley campus. Children six and younger complete a one-percent marathon (.26 miles) in separate heats by age, and the 7- to 10-yearolds run a 1K, again in heats by age. Five bucks gets each kid a T-shirt, a kid-friendly goody bag, a finisher’s ribbon, and a warm memory. If you’re coming to town with your children, don’t miss this event, which kicks off at 9:30 a.m. on Saturday.

Saturday also offers an expo, held in the sizeable, wide-aisled, and welllit UW-Fox Cities field house. (Improving the expo, which was small and devoid of energy in 1998, should be a priority for the race committee for 1999.) This field house doubles as the packet pick-up and seminar venue and serves both purposes quite well.

In 1998, the featured speaker at the seminar and pasta loading was the inspirational three-time Olympian Jim Spivey, who offered on-themoney advice the night before the marathon. On the other hand, the food at the pasta-loading was not quite as inspiring (as you might expect on a college campus). This year—with the popular Italian restaurant, The Olive Garden, catering dinner—the fare will be much improved. And while you load up on pasta, another great speaker, Olympic marathoner Mark

July/August 1999