Edited by Coach Adolfo Salgueiro

 As runners we have all experienced the ecstasy of triumph and the agony of defeat. It could be the thrill of a PR, a surprising podium, the misery of bonking when you started too fast or just hitting the wall. Maybe the unexpected happened and we had to resort to creative, unorthodox measures that in retrospective we are not proud of, but at the time seemed perfectly valid.

Here are some of those stories. Somehow, I believe there will be more than one of these posts, so I added the “Part 1” to the title. 

Sue Behrens
A1A Half Marathon 2022

Ft Lauderdale A1A Starting Line 5am.

With a medal but without a key fob

I like to run in a Lululemon skort which is a skirt with shorts. The Lulu skort is well designed with a pocket on each leg and that’s where I stash my phone. There is also a smaller zipped pocket at the center back of the waist perfect for keys and gels. Pre-race, like about everyone else, I get in line at the porta-pottys and that’s where things took a dive. Each line was at least 5 deep and once it was my turn, there was complete darkness inside.

As I pulled my skirt down, I found my bib was not only pinned to my tank but also to the skirt! I had to contort so I wouldn’t rip anything. Straight to business thinking I would re-pin once out of the porta-potty and back in the streetlight. When I pulled everything back up, I heard a bang and felt the seat ride up with my skirt. Panicking I felt for my phone and thankfully it was still in the side pocket. Thinking I dodged a bullet I stepped out and the next runner hopped in. I re-pined the bib and joined the crowd awaiting the start. While downing my energy gel I reached back to check on my car key fob and the zip pocket was empty. Unzipped and empty. Crap! literally crap as I realized that the bang, I heard was my car remote dropping into the pitch-black porta potty. UGH! Panic, what to do?

As race start was minutes away and the lines now doubled, I had no choice but to be positive and get the run done. The plan was to locate the Lost and Found after the run and then check each stall when the lines were lessened. Hoping that the fob fell onto the floor and not into the bowl. No such luck. It must have fallen into the bowl. No fobs were turned in, so I had no key. Thankfully, I’m local, one town south and my husband was able to grab the spare fob, drive it up and hand it off to me after the race. From what I have researched it going to be at least $300+ to replace, making this most expensive half marathon I have run!

Rube Urieta
Space Coast Marathon 2015

Kindness from a stranger at Mile 17

My first mistake was to believe I could run a marathon without proper training. So, needless to say my legs started cramping up after mile 13. This continued on an off. However, close to Mile 17, both legs cramped so bad, I fell to the side of the road. At that moment, many things came to mind, like am going to be the first runner to be picked up by the emergency golf cart, or can my legs unlock from this painful situation. And while this thought was rushing through my head, suddenly, a female runner stopped and asked: “Are you OK?”

After explaining my situation, she told me to open my hand. She proceeded to pull out something from her belt and sprinkled it into my hand. Then she told me to lick it and reassured me it I was going to be able to stand up and continue. Right there, I realized she gave me salt. The lack of sodium caused the whole situation.

When I tell my friend about my ordeal, they often ask me: how can I trust a stranger to give me something and just taking it so blindly? My answer is: “In this sport you know people, young and not so young, with diverse backgrounds and goals. Some of them have been running for years, some only for weeks. However, we runners tend to trust each other. And to that fellow runner that helped me out, back in 2015, thank you for spreading the sportsmanship.

Adolfo Salgueiro
NYC Marathon 1983

Another version of Seinfeld’s “The Marble Rye”

It was my second marathon and at 18, I thought I knew everything. So, I did not have breakfast before the race, never considering the 10:30 AM starting time. It was a cold and rainy day for an undertrained, young runner. Around 2:30 PM, being awake for about 10 hours and after 20 miles of running, I was starving. This was an era before gels and chews. So, as I was walking, defeated, down 5th Avenue towards Central Park, I saw among the spectator, a kid, maybe 7, with a big, hot pretzel that looked like heaven.

I resumed my running and approached the sidewalk, yanked the pretzel from the kid’s hand, and then ran into the crowd of runners as fast as I could so I couldn’t be identified or caught. I am not proud of this but somehow, I was able to justify the dirty deed. The carbs and calories allowed me to get a second life and finish the race.

When I ran New York 34 years later (2017), I thought of that kid as I was running towards Central Park. He must be now in his early 40s and hopefully has an interesting story to tell about cheering in the marathon.

There are plenty more stories out there that deserve to be preserved. Do you have one? Please email them in 250-350 words to foultips.running@gmail.com, or leave them as a comment here, and I will be publishing additional chapters of this saga, very soon.