Takes ‘bout as much strategy to finish 50 states in 3 years, as it does actual running. States like Delaware, Rhode Island & Connecticut have only one or two marathon options a year. ALSO – Spring (April) & Fall (October) are PRIME TIME…change of seasons sport multiple competing events.
Never expected #49 would happen in Illinois but this state provides a whole lotta running options. With Chicago off my radar, registered for the Illinois Marathon in Champaign-Urbana. [not a fan of crowds, already ran one major: NYC] Located only an hour-half east of Springfield, allowed me to visit the Land of Lincoln – place where our infamous 16th President started his family & political career.
Friday morning flight – met up with Stephen, who landed 15 minutes earlier from New Hampshire. Rental car pick-up, lunch at a highway-exit Subway, 2pm in Springfield (Illinois’ capital city).
Arrived just in time (4 minutes prior) for the ranger-guided Lincoln Home tour, watched 10 minutes of two National Park films, then drove to the Lincoln Presidential Museum another 10 minutes away. This museum is a MUST – time-challenged, chose to visit ‘Lincoln-White House Years’ & caught both recommended movie events.
Stepped out of ‘Pre-Presidential Lincoln’ 15 minutes early to auto-breeze thru the artifacts gallery. Lincoln’s stovepipe hat. Check, done.
Visited Lincoln’s burial site at Oak Ridge Cemetery. Arrived 15 minutes after close so settled for a self-guided tomb drive-by. Hard to fit a full day-vacation into 4 hours.
Autobahn’d to Champaign-Urbana. Another just-n-time arrival (8 minutes to spare) – University of Illinois, home of the Fighting Illini – for tomorrow’s marathon bib pick-up. Yikes, that as close.
Early to bed, early to rise. 100% chance of rain…it is what it is, my last 50 State weekend. Tomorrow Illinois, Sunday Colorado 🙂
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- Lincoln’s home for 17 years
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- Lincoln Home: Formal Parlor
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- Lincoln Home: Family Room
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- a room in a room (Abe & Mary’s sleeping quarters)
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- Lincoln Home: Kitchen
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- Illinois State Capitol
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- Old State Capitol (1839-1876)
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- Presidential Museum & Library
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- the ‘White House Years’ (lurking background: John Wilkes Booth)
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- Battle of Fort Sumter
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- Civil War in pictures
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- the Gettysburg Address
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- Lincoln’s famous stovepipe hat
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- Lincoln Tomb: marks the graves of Lincoln, his wife Mary & 3 of their children
Road trip delay: woke Friday to heavy Spring SNOW – 7 inches…much more than the inch forecast.
Weekend bucket list destination: Bataan Memorial Death March on the White Sands Missile Range.
Sunday’s marathon has been on my wish list for a year – signed up opening day. More than a weekend 26.2 – this is a military March, replicating the WWII trek US & Philippine POWs took in 1942.
We honor these men; we remember their service. 3 remaining Bataan survivors would attend tomorrow’s opening day ceremonies – including 98-year old Ben Skardon.
Invisible Symbols – The Ben Skardon Story
Started my journey mid-week, self-tutoring on everything Bataan via YouTube videos. Unfortunately, much of WWII history studied in school is limited to Europe & Pearl Harbor. Battles in Asia generally only receive a single paragraph in the best of textbooks. My Grandfather served in the Pacific.
The Bataan Memorial Death March honors a special group of World War II heroes. These brave soldiers were responsible for the defense of the islands of Luzon, Corregidor and the harbor defense forts of the Philippines.
The conditions they encountered and the aftermath of the battle were unique. They fought in a malaria-infested region, surviving on half or quarter rations with little or no medical help. They fought with outdated equipment and virtually no air power.
On April 9, 1942, tens of thousands of American and Filipino soldiers were surrendered to Japanese forces. The Americans were Army, Army Air Corps, Navy and Marines. Among those seized were members of the 200th Coast Artillery, New Mexico National Guard.
They were marched for days in the scorching heat through the Philippine jungles. Thousands died. Those who survived faced the hardships of a prisoner of war camp. Others were wounded or killed when unmarked ships transporting prisoners of war to Japan were sunk by U.S. air and naval forces.
they were beaten and starved as they marched. Those who fell were bayoneted. Some of those who fell were beheaded by Japanese officers who were practicing with their samurai swords from horseback. The Japanese culture at that time reflected the view that any warrior who surrendered had no honor; thus was not to be treated like a human being.
To avoid Friday night metro traffic, didn’t leave Boulder ‘til 7 – overnight’d in Trinidad, 15 miles from the New Mexico border.
7am Saturday start – 6 hour drive remaining; boring all-highway trek.
Gas tank odometer bottomed ZERO 10 miles outside of Santa Fe. Would have never fueled in tiny Eldorado had I not been desperate but rewarded heartily with homemade green chile chicken tamales. surprise breakfast YUM – the gods were a smilin’ 🙂
BIG weather change.
Freezing rain iced my windshield first 2 hours of New Mexico – but from there, high mountain desert. Sunshiny skies, temps jacked up almost 50 degrees. Shed my sweatshirt, opened the windows & took in desert – no stopping ‘til the Mexico border.
Reached White Sands Missile Range 2pm. Whole lotta folks arriving today. Hour-half (long 90 minutes) to get processed. Without a military ID ‘speed pass’, just gotta take it in stride. Security of our bases is paramount – no argument here.
Parked, asked for directions. Quickly jetted to the PDC (fast learned military folk only talk acronyms – LOL>), listened to two Bataan survivors recall their experiences. It just got real.
Bib pick-up at Bldg 501, soaked in the atmosphere. Crazy proud to be an American!
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- road trip delay — Friday SNOW — much more than the inch forecast
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- Bataan Death March Statue
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- without a military ID ‘speed pass’, just gotta take it in stride
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- propane powered rocket
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- on base — crazy PROUD to be an American!
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- 98-year old Bataan survivor, Ben Skardon
New Mexico Car Karaoke, 10-hour road trip
I remember sitting at the kitchen table August 16th 1977 – in our camper. It was afternoon, the radio playing. Mom acted surprised, then sad when news broke that Elvis had died. He was only 42. I didn’t understand the importance – but the memory’s still there.
Waited a year to run my Tennessee marathon. Knew last December, I wanted to race St. Jude’s in Memphis. Chance to raise funds for the cancer-stricken kids of St. Jude’s; no-brainer – on my 50 State short list. Registration opened June 1st; I signed up first day.
Late Thursday nite flight, Saturday race, Friday play day. bluesy Beale Street, the iconic Peabody Hotel – check, check…but [to me] Memphis has always meant Graceland – home of Elvis.
9am bus tour to Graceland. Short drive, quick orientation, do’s & don’ts – then received headphones & an iPad. Paced myself thru a self-guided tour hosted by actor John Stamos.
Wasn’t sure what to expect. Honestly, Elvis was my parents’ generation.
Inside, Graceland was decked for the holidays – white Christmas tree adorned with large red bulbs, poinsettias lined the grand staircase.
Visiting Graceland was like going back in time. Boxy appliances, wood paneling, clunky recliners, shag carpeting – everything 1970’s Americana. Greens & mustard yellows. Wet bars & water beds. Like a strange, exotic mashup of Three’s Company reruns & my grandparents’ Taylorstown home. Both retro & familiar. LOVED LOVED it.
Past the stables to Elvis’ home recording studio – now, a museum decked with awards & stage costumes. Sat on the floor & watched clips from the King’s 1975 concert in Hawaii.
Hooked, felt transported.
My parents were young again, my grandparents still alive. Mom wore halter tops, laid in the sun for hours. In my grandparents’ basement, we watched Dark Shadows reruns on black-n-white TV to escape the summer heat. We had a garden & a dog named Lady-Girl. Backyard badminton, percolator coffee, Chinese checkers. Croquet.
Walked thru Meditation Garden where Elvis is buried, along with his mother, father & grandmother.
WOW, whatta emotion evoking day. Memory flood.
Much more than walking a dead singer’s digs. Looking back on my 50 States journey, I’ll long remember Tennessee.
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- home of Elvis
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- Graceland living room
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- holiday-decked in red poinsettias
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- the King
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- shag carpet, mirror ceiling
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- crazy digs…check out the walls
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- rows & rows of #1 hits
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- ‘Elvis in Hawaii’ looped thrice
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- Meditation Garden
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- do you remember, where were YOU?
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- known for its grand, marble-columned lobby as well as its resident ducks
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- creole lunched at King’s Palace Cafe
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- soulful, jazzy Memphis — tomorrow I marathon state 47
Elvis LIVE in Hawaii, 1975
