Is that AM or PM?

New Orleans. The Big Easy. As in the Big Easter 2011. And along with it, the Crescent City Classic (10K). This is the third year we’ve gone to NOLA to run this race. It’s a family gathering of “runners”.  This year we had a group of 11 (Dan, myself, Carl & girlfriend Amanda, Hunter & fiancée Megan, sister Kris & husband Chris, niece Jess & boyfriend Bill, and nephew Eric). We all sign up for it months in advance. We buy new running shoes for ourselves and the boys. It’s a healthy plan for a family vacation. In New Orleans.

The race is on Saturday morning. The group arrives on Thursday. Plenty of time to get in a good rest, some healthy New Orleans food, New Orleans hydration and New Orleans stretching.

We check in to our interior rooms at the Place ‘d Arms, meaning no windows, because windows are $20 per night more, and I thought I should save some money. The mushrooms are free. And delicious. 

We have been here 20-25 times over the years and surprises are, well, New Orleans. For example, Dan losing a pair of underwear on the first night of our stay while a used condom “appeared” in the wastebasket of our bedroom would have—in any other city—been grounds for tears, recrimination and possible divorce court. In this case it was “Huh, how bout that?—can you get me some tea?”

On Thursday night we meet up with everyone and find some food. A lovely meal at Maspero’s followed by a stop at Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop for the second best Hurricanes in the world (Dan’s, of course, are the best.) Some in our group prefer beer and those are reasonably priced at Fritzel’s. We end the night at Flanagan’s playing pool. Chris is really good at pool. OK, it was a late night, but we still had more than 24-hours before the race.

Up the next morning. A nice light continental breakfast in the courtyard, then off to Johnny White’s for Bloody Mary’s. At some point on Friday we needed to pick up our race numbers. And get the free beer. Abita sponsors the race and they want everyone to have lots of fluids. We get our shirts, a few beers, one high-protein bar, more beers, some free food, more beers, a t-shirt that says “Slow is the new fast”, more beers, topped off by more beers. Did I mention the free beer?

People split off and go their separate ways. I, of course, determined that I would not drink anything alcoholic that evening.  No toxins in the system as I did not want it slowing me down. We returned to the hotel and found our group had splintered. We now had runners and walkers. The “have more fun group” consisted of my sister Kris, her son Eric, my son Carl and Hunter’s fiancée Megan. They had a plan to carry drink mixers and take the route at a manageable and well hydrated pace. No problem. This now meant that Kris could indulge her desire for a “double-bacon” (that means one-pound) BLT. Well OK then!

Saturday morning. The group gathers. Carl was the first one in the courtyard and hoping others would be a no-show so that he could go back to bed. (His girlfriend Amanda had already decided that was only place to be on a Saturday morning. Smart girl.) No such luck. We downed water, coffee, Gatorade and granola bars. The runners left for the start. A record 22,000 plus were registered for the race. Hunter had bet both his Dad and Uncle Chris $100 that he would run the best time. By the time the gun went off that had devolved into a gentleman’s agreement, no money on the line.

The race itself was a slog. More of a swim through thick humid air than a run. Hunter ran too fast during the first mile and paid for that the rest of the way. He and Chris finished within 2 minutes of each other (Hunter was first). The rest of us runners did the best we could and were all happy to at least finish.  The “have more fun group” found the race passed them by as they waited in line for a port-a-potty – too much hydration did them in!

There were also some lessons learned.  By the end of the week I knew that $20 per night is worth every penny for a window in your hotel room.  There is something really unsettling when you look at a clock and you’re not sure if it is AM or PM. Lay down for a nap at 3 and at 5 you are wondering if you slept through until morning. A windowless room is incredibly dark and any light you leave on is overly bright. Add to that Dan’s inability to sleep in silence and the constant noise of WWOZ, the local New Orleans Jazz public radio station he tunes in to compensate, and you go just a little crazy. One night I was positive they were reading newspaper articles on air. Turns out they were, the tuner had gotten bumped to some newspaper station. Dan didn’t care as long as it wasn’t silence. It just kept me awake. Next time I must remember to pack the sound machine.

The kids left on Monday. The adults stayed until Wednesday, eating more rich food and enjoying the great weather. One thing we love to do—as adults who have been to NOLA multiple times—is to sit by the Mississippi and wait for the hustlers to approach. It must be somewhat disconcerting to have four middle aged white Mid-Westerners pick apart, correct and suggest new endings to your hustles. Yes, I know where I got my shoes. Yes, my age never goes down. Do I look like a f’ng tourist?

By the time we got to the airport we were ready to head home, and reality. As we sat in the airport terminal we became aware of a large (and by large I mean that if they had to pay by the pound, and flew naked with no luggage, they would still pay way more than me for each NOLA to Milwaukee ticket) family group sitting behind us. The adults seemed a bit too loud and the kids were quite young. Now, (and I’m sorry for this) Dan finds the Tourette Syndrome voice volcano as funny as the shirt on the T-shirt Hell site that shows a line at sternum height and reads “I’ve had it up to here with midgets.” One of the ladies in this group, after slowly working up to it through tremors or twitches, would suddenly yell out “Fah!” or “CORRR!” or  “PLACE!!” or “BITCH!!!” at full volume. This was while her sister was beating the child who was screaming. Yeah, no wonder Dan thinks driving is soooooooo much better that flying. Corrrrr! Place!! Bitch!!!

One week post race we have great memories of a wonderful family trip. We spent some great quality time with our kids, their delightful significant others and my sister and her family. Yes, most of us ran the 10k. All of us ate too much, drank too much and spent too much money. Oh, and Dan? He gained 6 pounds and never found the missing underwear. And I am grateful he has stopped asking about the condom.