Missoula Marathon - 15 pictures

These pictures will tell a lot of the story from my marathon. You won't, however, see the to-do list I wrote the night before as I paced my Missoula hotel room. A list containing such gems as "take a shower", "get dressed", and of course the unforgettable "lube up". But you will see what my dad saw as he stopped every couple miles to document my progressive suffering and deteriorating form (thanks, man). And you'll see what I meant in the first post when I told you, this was all about family.

Pinning on the number.

My biggest fan and unquestioning supporter. My Lisa. Just out of frame, the giant pepperoni stain on my sweatshirt.

See, there's that stain. Very, very classy. Dad and I at the start.

After the gun. Third guy back is my cousin, who won the race in course-record time.

I ran my first couple miles very easy and felt great.

After seeing these pictures, I have dubbed my left hand "the claw", and vow to fix this disturbing form flaw.

This is what we call "heavy legs" at about mile 20. Sweet ride in the background. "Ok, they're not 20's, they're 10's. But I keep 'em clean."

Return of the claw.

A really pasty guy crossed the line just before me, but I looked way cooler. Fist pump, yo.

You know your dad's proud when he doesn't ask you to put a shirt on for the hug-shot.

My mom and Dave. Moments like this are fleeting. But I'll never forget.

My in-laws Bob and Kay stayed in town an extra day just to see the finish.

I insisted on a trip to the salad bar before my nap. Yep, always putting good health first.