Donald Duck is number 1… which makes me number 2… or I guess Daisy is probably number 2 and I’m number 3… but then there’s Huey, Dewey, and Louie… and Uncle Scrooge, and Webigail, and Launchpad… No, no… I’m above Launchpad. There’s no way Launchpad is in the top 30. I have to imagine I’m top 20 Ducketeer material.
In any case, I ran the half marathon today in my Donald Duck Club hat and (un)official shirt that I ironed on myself.
I started in the front of Corral A so it was a lot easier to snag photos along the way.
Without further ado…
It’s important to remember where you parked. It’s even more important when it’s the third day of your sixth Dopey and you can barely remember what car you’re driving.
Still green — still a go. A few years back they canceled the half marathon so I’m always a little nervous on half-marathon day.
The finish line is just to the right. Past the woman yawning.
These character wait times are a pack of lies!
Lines, line, lines.
So here’s who I got my photo with — the Last in Line cast member.
Waiting for the long march to the start corrals.
I don’t know what this is. There was a quartet of runners rockin’ these shirts. There’s a kind of Extreme Poochie Dog on the front. Is this a thing? Is this something the kids are into these days?
Massive crowds just waiting to be unleashed.
Let it begin… let it begin…
They opened one gate so we could walk the 1.25 miles to the starting corral gates. Nefarious.
Decimal points matter, just like commas. #Don’t eat grandma vs #Don’t eat, grandma
We passed these signs just as they told us to walk on the median.
The jumbo-tron. Or should I say, jumbo-duck?
A is for me.
A friend of mine was so disappointed in me for trading in my iPhone for a Samsung S9. I heard the camera was much better… but I can’t seem to get it to balance the light meter correclty, making the start line a shining blur behind me.
Cruella DeVil and Pup, chillin’ before the race.
That’s a lot of people behind me.
New year, same script. Welcome the con-DUCK-tor of the race.
The Samsung S9 CAN take the lighting adjustments if I frame out all other light sources.
Light it up.
Kaboom!
Jack and, um, what was Penelope Cruz’s name? Eliza? Angelica? Skyler?
Is it a character meet-n-greet if Lightning just sits there? Stickers, man. It’s like he’s not even trying anymore.
I have less than inordinately large hands today.
A threesome of villains — shot from far, far away.
Dude. You’re in my shot. Begone with you before somebody drops a house on your head.
Speaking of heads… off with mine, your majesty? But… but… I’m a Ducketeer!
Mom slept nary a wink last night so I told her to skip the 3 AM drive to Epcot. In the past she’s cheered me right at this spot. So no worries, Mom. I was cheered on the run… as you can tell by this SUPER BLURRY photo. Way to go Samsung S9. Yeah, you’re great. Tamela was right. I should’ve stayed fruity.
Ya know what? For asking a random dude to snap a photo of me with the castle in the background, this turned out surprisingly well.
Mike’s very stand-offish. Boo to you, Mike W. Boo to you.
I need a new pose for the White Rabbit. I always seem to use this one. It’s my Blue Steel of Rabbit-dom.
Circus Goofy! Nobody was stopping for him and so I went all Steve Martin in Dirty Rotten Scoundrels and shouted, “Goofy, Goofy, Goofy!” as I flopped into his airspace.
Hey, Sebastian. Put in a good word with that Mermaid for me, will ya?
There is no sword in the stone. THERE. IS. NO. SWORD. IN. THE. STONE. The prophesy has been fulfilled… but by whom? By who? By whom. I’m 73% sure it’s whom, Alex.
I don’t know… maybe Wicked Stepsisters are my best shot at romance these days.
No. #NotMyHofPresidents.
Woody moseyed off just as I got there, so I told Bullseye that’s okay. I liked him better anyway. Take that, Woody Run Off.
Bestill my heart, Tiana. I’ve done karoake and nobody croaks better than me.
I got into the Magic Kindom for FREE this morning… well, for $600+ race fees but…). As we exited, the DJ told us he hoped we enjoyed the magic and fun because the next two miles would be just trees and cones. #Truth.
These Chipmunks were super excited by my Donald Duck Club attire.
Just outside the wedding pavilion, a reboot of the Hangover was abrewin’.
Edna Mode, where is my super Frozone suit?
Dawn approaches.
This green army man did NOT want his photo taken. As he backed away, I turned around and ran backwards trying to frame my shot. I think he had visions of liability claims dancing through his head because he finally stopped.
That big ball in the distance? That’s where I’m headed.
Dug is the best. But it was nice to see the other two too I guess.
Due to construction, we were routed differently through the Epcot backstage — I’d never seen the greenhouses from this angle.
Old friends.
And here’s a POV of the LAND you don’t normally get to see. There were walls up but we just went around them. Hmmm… there’s a lesson in that, I’m sure.
This is steps from the finish and I wanted a pic with the boys. How they got out of their tuxedoes and into their race gear so quickly is beyond me. There must be one nutty Utilidor.
At the finish.
Still? Really? When can I stay in this area?
Wait times are approximate.
The sun rising over the stage. I think you can see it in this shot but a group of the Med Team got their photo with Mickey. It made him… and me… laugh. Thanks, Med Team. I mainly used you as a paper towel dispensery to try and wipe dry my camera lens.
This is Mari Mar of TravellingFit who I meant to get a photo with yesterday. My mom and her family were all standing around and it just didn’t dawn on me. I’m hoping Steve will join me on an adventure with them soon. He was supposed to go to Berlin but he had appendicitis. Good news, Steve — you only have on appendix so no more excuses!
I was able to catch up with Russell at the finish as well. We’re both 3/4 of the way through this year’s Dopey.
Mom thought I looked so sad here with Mickey. But it’s because he tried to recruit me into his Mouseketeers. I’m a Ducketeer, Mr. Mouse. A Ducketeer.
Dopey thought it amusing that I was so steadfast in my support of the Number 1 Duck.
Goofy however? Well…
He wasn’t thrilled. He wanted to know why I wasn’t a Goofeteer.
I told him I’d work on it and he wanted me to pinky swear.
That’s binding in at least 23 states I hear.
Saving the best for last, Donald was super excited to see a Ducketeer.
He’s number 1; I’m number 2… or maybe a bit lower on the totem pole.
That is one bad hat head, Kevin. Looking really rough, my man.
One more wake-up. Just one more wake-up. I’m tired, y’all. So very, very tired. Good thing it’s just a 26.2 mile marathon tomorrow. Which I know is redundant as a marathon is defined as 26.2 miles (or 42.195K). But recently I’ve heard all too often people saying there’s a “5K marathon” happening. That’s not a thing. Neither is a “10K marathon.” I guess you could say there was a “0.118497 Marathon” or a “0.23699 Marathon” respectively. But you’d have to be one angry bird to insist on that.
I’m a Ducketeer, through and through.
