Spank Here! This is most certainly, probably, the latest submission of a hash trash ever. Maybe.

So there I was.

I left Linden at the early hour of it’s-too-f#cking-early to drop Sleeping Pukey off for his FIRST Marat#on. What a dummy. Now – how do I get to the Dequindre Cut parking lot so I can start laying this teeny-tiny trail to our Freep Beer C#eck Marathon on-start? I thought I found a way that would get me there in about 11min. I was definitely wrong. Tried to short cut only a few more times – my body decided that it was race day, even though it really wasn’t, and I found a BP that was open where the attendant allowed me to use his disgusting employee bathroom. Woof. I bought some vitamin water to say Thank You / I’m sorry. I eventually left the entire city of Detroit just to circle around and get back in. I saw the Dequindre Cut parking lot up ahead. I made it!

I proceed to get out all the things – but most notably my bike, hare bag and FRBs. Lovely weather for race, I might say. I lay quite a nice little trail, which are really just de-rections to our NEW spot! As I approach the intersection of Lafayette and St Aubin, I spy a gander of hashers – Backstage, Whip, Slurpee, Scottish…and some others I’ve forgotten – SORE-Y (we’re so close to Canada that the accent just takes over). Much to my dismay, they have TREMENDOUSLY short-cutted trail and found a closer parking lot. Pfft. All that work wobbling around on a bike trying to bounce a flour-laden tennis ball. What nerve they have, to hash smarter. I also realized that those who followed my trail would not be able to cross the intersection to the beer check, because it was *technically* the race course. Pfft again. So I biked back, scratched out some marks, made some new ones, hoped (prayed?) the hashers would find their way — but mostly hoping they’d find the delicious FRBs I left. I made it back to the car, dropped off my s#it, gathered up all my new shit, and biked down to the on-start with a bike trailer FULL of stuff plus a huge collapsible table in tow. I’m sure I was a sight to be seen.

Made it to the on-start and we started seeing the wheelchair r#cers right on time! I stuck around for awhile to cheer others on. We were snacking on some delightful snacks and already dipped into our morning BEEReverages.

Although I’ve been self-crowned/volun-told to manage as the new Queen-of-the-Freep-Beer-check, my actual big responsibility of the day was to pace my lil bro, Sleeping Pukey, for his first marathon. The plan was to pick him up at mile 18, but I was going to find a place along the course (maybe 14 or 15?) to find him and cheer him on. I made a GIANT head of my mother to bring a smile to his face and to obviously creep him out. I set out, cheering on and hash-whistling other r#nners on my journey, tracked down my bro, and successfully creeped him out with a giant head. Then I booked my ass back to the beer check to cross over the intersection to pick him up.

Sleeping Pukey was looking quite good, considering he only ran about 12M for his longest run, and took on a new meaning of taper with 0miles 2w leading up to the race. Ah well. Learnings? Probably not. Mostly I talked, told jokes, told stupid stories, shared hilarious recounts of things my kids do to torment Banjo and I, and, subjectively played lots of good music. I got him fuel and hydration when he needed it, and really kept him going. He had a knee-IT-band thing crop up on him around 22-ish, so we periodically took walking breaks – but we kept chugging along.

We made it to the Hash Beer check, and all those wanks were a sight for sore eyes (and legs). We saw Banjo and our 2 spawn wielding the giant head, along with a custom poster made by the oldest spawn and myself. It’s been a minute since I had the opportunity to run through the beer check as a participant, and I was quickly reminded what an encouraging, invigorating bunch we are. JOB WELL DONE, MOA2H3!

Close to the end-ish (although still too soon), I lovingly played him Bo Burnham’s “Shit.” I highly recommend this if you’re feeling like “big ol’ m-f-ing duffel bag of shit.” Around mile 25.6, you’re mostly definitely “feeling like a saggy, massive sack of shit.”

Welp, if you guessed that he made it – you’d be right because he did! I was so happy I cried a little for him, knowing the overwhelming wave of emotions a marathon can bring – especially your first. I know he had some tears but quickly pushed them down. He proceeded to down a random assortment of snacks handed out at the finish line, obliged for a photo, and then started the hobble back to the beer check – it always feels 5 miles away.

It was lovely to pass out beer for a while longer and spend some time with everyone. Thank you to all who volunteered – you gave time, snacks, beer, and all the cheers. I hope you know how special you made this day for a lot of r#nners!

ON-ON!

Spank

Sleeping Pukey in his post-race glory