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| Clarksdale, MS and my weekend disposition |
Here I am driving alone through the Mississippi Delta, home of the blues, and I can't help from feeling blue myself. Maybe it's the weather - sunny, but unseasonably cold this weekend. Maybe it's the bleak, dilapidated surroundings, for the Delta never returned to its cotton-rich prosperity after the 1950s. Maybe it's the book I was reading on the flight - Wally Lamb's I Know This Much Is True - a complicated story of human nature, relationships, and mental health. I had a stressful and depressing week and this was only magnifying those feelings. As we runners know, your mental fitness plays as much a part of your success in a marathon as your physical fitness. At the moment, that sub-3-hour finish in Mississippi wasn't looking good.
After flying into Memphis and driving 2.5 hours to Greenville, MS, I arrived Friday evening in time for the packet pickup. This area is a hotbed for hot tamales and as it turns out, has a fascinating history with tamales that dates back to the Civil War, or even 100-years earlier to the U.S.-Mexican War. These tamales are smaller, grittier, and boiled (rather than steamed) or sometimes deep fried, in contrast with their Latin counterparts. Naturally, I did as the locals would and grabbed a hot tamale pie from Hot Tamale Heaven for dinner as a pre-race meal and settled into the hotel for a few hours of the Investigation Discovery channel - the only thing I miss about not having cable. Oh, and I found a Shipley Donuts down the street, so...
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| Delicious |
The race is on the small side: 250 marathoners and about 700 half marathoners. It's point-to-point so I was on a bus at 6am for an 8am start. This style of race is a stark reminder of just how far 26.2 miles is! The weekend's cold front was at its worst this morning (mid-20Fs with a high of 39F for the day) and the winds were looking to pose a problem. This course started in Arkansas, crossed the Mississippi River, and finished in Mississippi - an all eastward bearing into a 14-20 mph headwind. Great. At least there were bonfires at the start and the sunrise was stunning.
The first 3 miles consisted of 5 of us tightly packed together in front. We all knew we had to work together to shield ourselves from that wind. The eventual winner surged, one fell off and three of us agreed to work together until the bridge at mile 13. At this point, only Rob - a Greenville resident who has run this race every year since its inception 4 years ago - and myself were left. Without a verbal agreement, he and I alternated every 1/2 mile (almost exactly!) blocking that wind for each other. This teamwork continued through mile 20 where the course turns into a neighborhood and the winds were no longer as bad. I can't tell you how thankful I was for that agreement. It kept my mind on the task at hand rather than wandering into the previously mentioned dark space I was in.
At this point I knew I could slow the pace and coast into a sub-3-hour finish, there was no point keeping up with Rob. I thanked him and we parted ways. Though there were aid stations every mile, crowd support was sparse until now. This race is really well-managed and the townsfolk are supportive. Marathoners merged with half marathoners around this point and together we traversed an area of Greenville I can only imagine was once the home to wealthy cotton plantation owners for it was the only sign of prosperity I saw this entire weekend.
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| Mile 15 - down the bridge over the Mississippi River |
2:56:07, 3rd place overall, and my 24th sub-3-hour finish state. Oh, and what was waiting for me at the finish line? Hot tamales and Shipley Donuts! My stay in Greenville had come full-circle. Though this was technically my 29th state, I mentioned in previous posts that I've amended my goal to complete each state in under 3 hours and I will need to redo 5 states to make that happen. It's shaping up to be a big year; this has been my 5th marathon in as many months and that monthly plan continues for much of 2016.
Without much to do in Greenville, I made the pilgrimage back to Memphis for the remainder of the weekend, but not without stopping in Clarksdale, MS where the famed Devil's Crossroads is located. It is said this is where bluesman Robert Johnson sold his soul to the devil for success and later died at the age of 27. The town is a shell of its former self but still is home to the first blues museum and the occasional juke joint.
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| Juke Joint in Clarksdale, MS |
I was in Memphis a year ago for the marathon and hit the usual spots. This time, I went for what I missed during past visits: Gus' Fried Chicken, the Sun Studio tour, Central BBQ, Arcade Restaurant (the oldest diner in Memphis), and the Crystal Shrine Grotto. I've always had a fascination with religious art though as far I can remember, I've been an atheist. The Crystal Grotto is a crystal cave designed by an artist in the 1930s depicting religious artwork. That someone has such a devotion to a belief that they spend their entire lives, their talents, creating something so amazingly beautiful is pretty incredible.
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| A panoramic photo of inside the Crystal Shrine Grotto |
Of course, I do love searching out the breweries on these trips. I spent Saturday evening drinking at High Cotton Brewing Co. - one of few breweries in Memphis and certainly worth the visit. As I'm making my way through their line up, a group of men and women in red dresses stumbles in causing a jovial commotion. The Hash House Harriers - a drinking club with a running problem. My kind of people.
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| High Cotton Brewing Co. gets right to the point |
After I founded the Libertyville Running Club on the principles of having fun, drinking, eating, and occasionally running, I discovered this concept started in the 1930s with The Hash House Harriers. Now approximately 1,800 hashes (chapters) worldwide, this social running club thrives. I spent hours with these folks, getting versed on the history, the practices, and organizational-style. And the more I spoke with them, the more I realized how cultish the organization is: newbie hazings involving displays of nudity, pledging in with a ritual involving members standing around the pledge and asking questions of their sexual history to determine their Hash Name, etc... I was left with the realization that the LRC is exactly what I wanted it to be: fun, social, and not at all like a fraternity.
