Run All The States!

After finishing Sioux Falls with a crunchy knee and a questionable attitude, I figured it was time to see what was really going on. Spoiler: nothing good. X-rays revealed my old bone spur had new fang-shaped friends. The inside of my knee now resembles the mouth of a baby vampire. Just in time for Halloween, how thoughtful.

I debated deferring Baltimore to 2024 (did you know that’s a thing with this event? Because I didn’t, until I panic-Googled it). But like the stubborn mule I am, I decided to show up and just walk most of it. I really wanted that famed crabby medal, okay?

Sea Creatures and Historic Features

Jack joined me for this trip, and we set out to explore Inner Harbor like two giddy nerds with good walking shoes. First stop: the National Aquarium, which is wildly impressive. Think: towering, multistory shark tanks, vibrant reef habitats teeming with sea life, moon jellies you can gently boop, and even a walk-through rainforest featuring a fussy 25-year old scarlet macaw named Billy. His whole energy screamed, “I didn’t survive this long to be ignored, people.” I felt oddly proud of myself for recognizing a bunch of fish solely from Animal Crossing and Red Dead Redemption II. Finally, my virtual fishing gaming habits paid off.

We also checked out the Historic Ships in Baltimore — a waterfront lineup of four historic vessels and one old lighthouse. Well… we made it to three ships and zero lighthouses, because time management is a journey. Highlights included the USS Constellation (a sloop-of-war with serious pirate ship energy), the USS Torsk (a WWII submarine so cramped that even I felt claustrophobic), and the US Coast Guard Cutter 37, which once boasted an extremely good ship-dog named Soogie — complete with her own ID card. A true icon.

Otterrific Morning

The next morning, we had a very important appointment — with an otter. At The Maryland Zoo, we got to meet Hudson, a professional-level ham who knew exactly how these training encounters go. We tossed him fish, he spun and posed like a furry little runway model, and we all pretended we were professional otter trainers. It was adorable. When we gave the “all done” hand signal, he dipped out immediately, like “No fish? Then I’m out.” Honestly, I could use one of these signals in my own life so that I don’t get too carried during snack time.

For just a few bucks, I got to feed a giraffe named Caesar. I hesitated slightly in handing over my leafy branch to him, and he was not having it. He gave me an impatient look and stuck out that impressively long tongue and snatched it up. I’m sorry, Caesar! I didn’t know it was my turn to go.

Bonus: we stumbled upon penguin feeding time, where the penguins all waited patiently like polite little tuxedoed gentlemen.

Packets, Puppies, and Pre-Race Plans

From the hotel, we walked the few blocks to the expo. It was pretty laid-back — except for the moment I was immediately derailed by a pack of adoptable puppies in Halloween costumes right inside the entrance. Frankly, everything after that was just background noise. Sure, there were the usual vendors and booths, but once you’ve been emotionally blindsided by a pittie mix in butterfly wings, what else is there? (Alas, I was too excited to get photos.)

Eventually, I pulled myself together long enough to grab my race packet. The race shirt was a nice Under Armour tech tee, but notably lacking the iconic crab logo. I hadn’t even known that was a thing until I overheard someone lamenting its absence — and now I’m irrationally upset about it behalf of the crab.

Race eve dinner was seafood (not from the aquarium) with a friend from DC. And thanks to a 9:45 a.m. half marathon start (!), I didn’t even need to stress about bedtime. What do you do with all that extra time in the morning? My pre-race brain was confused.

13.1 Miles of Soggy Strides Through Charm City

I awoke to rain and gray skies, but temps were mild and I had my trusty rain jacket. With no formal corrals or pace groups, everyone just kind of gathered like it was a parade you accidentally joined. I couldn’t hear the announcer, but people started moving, so… cool, I guess we’re doing this.

I ran the first mile, felt okay, and shifted into run/walk mode to play it safe. The course had lots of hills — Baltimore is apparently built entirely on an incline — so I rewarded myself with downhill jogs and made sure I looked alive whenever I spotted an official race camera.

Around mile 3, we joined up with the marathoners near Patterson Park, one of the oldest public parks in the country (and yes, that’s your Civil War trivia for the day). From there, it was a tour of the city’s finest hills in some nice neighborhood and some not-as-nice neighborhoods. Long, rolling, soul-questioning hills. Someone should have handed out climbing gear. (Okay, they weren’t that terrible but they just did not seem to stop.)

Despite the drizzle, the crowd support was great in places, and the mist gave everything that “final stage of the car wash” vibe. At Lake Montebello, we did an out-and-back that felt endless — mostly because you could see runners going both directions and kept thinking, “Surely the turnaround is soon!” It was not.

Apparently, a giant sinkhole prevented us from doing a full loop of the lake. Classic Baltimore.

Aid stations were well stocked, and one even had real food like chips, fruit, and pretzels if you fancied a mid-race picnic. I accepted some cherry Starbursts from a kind spectator but drew the line at kid-handled gummy bears from a community bowl. Even I have standards. (Sometimes.)

We passed Memorial Stadium and Johns Hopkins, and finally started the glorious descent back into downtown. The last couple miles were all downhill, and that’s exactly the energy I needed. I zipped down Pratt Street, crossed the finish at McKeldin Square and celebrated checking Maryland off the list. Haha, take that, bone spurs!

I collected my crab medal like the treasure it is. Yes, the shell opens. Yes, I played with it like a fidget toy for an embarrassing amount of time.

Feet Hurt, Fun Continues

I skipped the soggy afterparty and instead we hit up the Maryland Historical Society to check out the Jim Henson exhibit, full of Muppet-y goodness and nostalgia.

Slimy and the Worm Circus makes my heart smile

Then it was time for brewery hopping. We found a few places, but oddly none of them had food — only light snacks, not runger portions. What’s going on, Maryland? Do I need to pack a sandwich? Eventually we found ramen and all was right in the world. Rainy weather + ramen = an elite combo on a drizzly, chilly evening.

Thanks, Baltimore — you were weird, wet, and wonderful. Maryland’s officially crossed off the list. Next state, please!

Charm City Wrap-Up

• Bone spurs report: Present but behaved (sort of)
• Otter rating: 10/10, would throw fish again
• Number of soggy doggies in raincoats: So many, so cute!
• Funniest overheard: “WHERE’S THE BEEEER?” — someone not even out of the finisher chute
• Most disappointing: No crab legs at the finish line. A girl can dream.