I’ve been here before… time after time… the Orlando Airport.
I’ve been to the destination of this morning’s flight before too… and recently at that.
Last week I flew in and out of Pittsburgh to run the Pro Football Hall of Fame Marathon in Canton, OH. I’m back… back again this weekend to run the Pittsburgh Marathon itself.
I’ve often felt the Northeast is not the place for me. I find people inherently stand-offish or downright mean here… and I’ve long suspected it’s because of the weather. The winters are so brutally cold, with pedestrians and scurrying car-denizens making the mad dash from vehicle to building that there is no time for niceties. People are bundled up so tightly, just trying to preserve any body warmth possible to gird themselves from the frigid temperatures and nasty weather that plagues the region.
Here it is May 6, 2017. For all intents and purposes, this is summer — hell, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2 has opened for crying out loud. And yet according to my weather app, here was the Pittsburgh weather as the plane taxied to the gate:
It’s a cold, windy, rainy day. And people here have not failed to disappoint in their dismissal of me as a fellow traveler on this mortal coil.
I’m a misanthrope, I know. But I like to believe I start everyone on a level playing field and TRY and treat people decently when I first encounter them. I suppose I subscribe to the Fool’s Golden Rule in that I do unto others as I would like them to do unto me… I start out I think relatively pleasant and nice… but if they treat me poorly I’ll go Biblical eye-for-an-eye or perhaps tenfold phalanges for an eye or more. The scorched earth, Pyrrhic mentality I adopt is in the misguided belief that perhaps those that wronged me will appreciate what it’s like to be treated poorly and change their ways… silly and arrogant and awful. But as I said — misanthrope.
Yet there are times when in preferring to avoid conflict, I try and just wallflower and pull back, head off on my own, and try and avoid people as much as possible.
With storm clouds abrewing and aspewing (aspewing? Drizzling?), with folks hustling about under umbrellas, it was in my own best interests to avoid folks when I could and just do my own thing, here in the burgh of Pitts.
But before heading off on solo adventures, I needed to stop at the Pittsburgh Marathon Expo downtown. And it was a sea of people, cars, and one-way streets detoured and destroyed by construction.
From that last pic, I gather there’s 28,392 runners … with more registrations possible onsite. Part of the tagline for the race is a play on Superman and the steel industry heritage of the town — the bibs read “Runner of Steel.” Perhaps that is at least part of the reason I personalized my bib name the way I did…
…or maybe I just wanted to some day make it to this twitter feed.
Amongst the throngs, I did snap yet another photo with the Geico Gecko. He’s become a staple of my Expo-ness and if I had a better internet connection I’d do a collage of my meet-and-greets with him. As it is, I’ll just have to make do with the latest variation:
There were a large number of vendors for the expo — offering everything from running events to food items, to merchandise of all shapes and sizes. I didn’t even really look a the official race swag, but I was awfully tempted by this shirt. But I need another shirt like I need another Gecko pic…
A few choice other vendor pics for funsies:
I am not sure if this is a joke or a serious thing — having driven around town now, there’s a reason this place is called the City of Bridges. On top of that, there’s quite a few hills which makes me question my goal time shot calling; it could be the runner’s hubris that will doom me tomorrow. But if this is legit, I’ll know to try and bank some time on the the PA Turnpike mile…
This local… winery?… meadery?… offered samples of their honey wine. There was a fascinating laminated FAQ sheet detailing the etymology of mead and its basis in bees and honey… including a revelation that a “honeymoon” was derived from olden days mead drinking at weddings. Alternative facts? PR spin? The Truth? I could snopes it and google it, but again, poor internet connection. I can tell you that every person in line before me got carded to prove they were 21+. When I got to the front, they just handed me a bottle to pour myself. Is that a good thing or…
Two vendors I wanted to make sure I snapped — a not-quite-Lucy Vitameatavegamin-ish blender…
…and a stun gun/pepper spray stall. This one made me chuckle though it’s an incredibly serious thing given the harshness of realities for runners, and especially I’m sad to say, female runners.
Still — I really, REALLY wanted to ask if they sold this woman’s t-shirt.
And no larger scale expo would be complete without a green screen photobooth shot, so here’s a digital composite shot of what tomorrow will most assuredly NOT look like (not only will I not be rocking my Mr. Sparkle shirt or running in jeans, but do you see that weird yellowish brightness that seems to be hitting the bridge? It’s almost a shine… a shine from the sun. Yeah, we won’t be seeing that tomorrow, so says Weather app).
Having run the expo gauntlet, I returned to my car and set about the Roadside America sightseeing that is my wont when visiting some place.
A few notes:
I was too cheap to pay the $20 admission to the Warhol Museum (especially given my Niagara Falls Marathon experience that had me capable of stretching before a 26.2 mile course in front of several Warhols — been there, done that, got the t-shirt and the medal as they don’t really say).
I was too cheap AND too lazy to drive the hour or so to Frank Lloyd Wright’s FallingWater… but I’m thinking I *may* try and do that post marathon tomorrow. Fingers crossed the rain stops and I might be able to enjoy the views a bit more. A guy can dream, right? However, I just looked at the website I linked to above — um, yeah… advance tickets and prices that seem a bit… steep… well, maybe I’ll just google and ogle virtually.
Anyhoo, I did take in a few sights, even if the parking rates in this town are exorbitant! Monday through Saturday, the meters are in full effect… and you pay by your license plate which was a pain as I couldn’t figure out what it was on the rental car keychain and had to keep running back and forth to get the details. I know, I know… I should’ve taken a photo or written it down. On the plus side, after I paid once I had a receipt with the license plate listed so I could easily punch it in again… and again… and again. Sigh. Pittsburgh, you’ve gotten your parking fees from me to be sure mainly because you charge so much to park that I had to assume the parking violation tickets must be astronomical! Fear is a powerful motivator of the panopticon state.
I’ve prattled on long enough — to photos! To photos!
Things to Do in Pittsburgh When You’re Waiting to Run (freely adapted from Roadside America and Google Searches):
Fredosaurus Rex – For years this Dino-version of Fred P Rogers stood outside the WQED studios. But when the company behind Mr Rogers’ Neighborhood pulled up stakes, Rex was banished and might have gone extinct. But you can’t keep a good mashup down and so just as Mr Rogers would change his shoes at the start of each new show, so did Fredosaurus Rex change locales. For a time he was on a different street but pranksters, perhaps fans of Eddie Murphy’s Mr Robinson, kept making off with the statue. As a result Fred-Rex got moved to a CCTV surveilled location and was outfitted with a new warning sign… but a FRIENDLY warning sign.
From there I drove out to see the lucky toes on a Stephen Foster statue. I hadn’t fully comprehended how super creepy this would turn out to be. I guess I assumed it would be the toes of Stephen Foster that has piqued the interest of RA agents. But upon arriving, and re-reading the RA entry, it turns out the toes in question belong to “…Uncle Ned, a blind, toothless slave strumming a banjo at Foster’s shod feet.”
Look, I went to UNC Chapel Hill so I’m well-versed in the uneasy and uncomfortable dissonance of monuments that glorify slavery in any way. But as I look at my goofy, stupid, naive grin, this one feels particularly … wrong on my part. I’m keeping it here as a reminder that I’m perhaps not so culturally evolved or sensitive as I like to think.
Just around the corner from the Foster monument, an arts auditorium building was bedecked with famed artist statues… including Shakespeare and Bach. The proximity of the art compelled me to try and frame a shot for my brother, the one who pitched the original idea of my failed screenplay TWO GUYS AND BACH. Hopefully this’ll make Steve laugh:
The last stop on my Private Pittsburgh Tour For One was just outside the Heinz Arena. I wasn’t there to see Steelers Stadium; rather I was in search of one last Fred P. Rogers sighting. Overlooking the Ohio River, a “lumpy statue” sits, in mid shoe-tie, albeit without any laces visible.
“Lumpy Fred” is 11 feet tall and weighs 7,000 pounds. One commentator on Roadside America sums him up quite nicely:
If a mud monster mated with The Thing from the Fantastic Four, this would be the result. The toothy grin is kind of creepy. – Frank Abbott, 10/07/2011
With the wind a blowin’ and my clothes asoakin’ (sitting next to Mud Fred for the above photo, I was forced to park my keister in a puddle… the things I do for “art!”), the time had come to seek my murder hotel and prep for the race tomorrow.
What the dawn brings we can forecast but we cannot know.
What my run will feel like we can hope, but we cannot guarantee.
But I’ve been here before… even if this is the first time I’m running Pittsburgh.