I do not compete. I do not enter. I have it on my bucket list, but it's going to go down with the ship. Hopefully not along with the "FINISH a novel" item on the list. Maybe one day I'll walk the half, but no way in hell will I ever run it, and the full is just not going to happen. But I love this race.
For one thing, who wouldn't love a marathon named for the fattiest of the fat? Here's a link to the history of the Flying Pig Marathon . It's kind of a funny story. In brief, Cincinnati has been referred to as Porkopolis, because of it's heritage involving slaughterhouses and sausage and bacon and stuff. When other cities were having artists decorate fiberglass horses and cows and things, we did pigs.
So then, someone had the great idea to have a marathon here, and someone said it should probably be named after pigs, and the Flying Pig Marathon was born.
|I am not one of these people, tho somewhere there exists a picture of me in a pig suit.|
In the past, I've run a fluid station (water stop) for runners of the 10k portion of the race. This year I helped at a Party Pit Stop for spectators of the actual marathon. So not only was I an official Grunt, I was Squealer Support Personnel. These are Squealers:
All kinds of famous people participate in the Pig:
I saw Forest Gump yesterday, but the pictures from this year aren't up yet. Oh well.
|Okay, I really don't know who this is, but she kind of reminds me of Chelsea Clinton.|
And now we've reached the Finish Swine of this post. Have a great week, everyone!