The Girl cresting Brocken in howling wind and high spirits. She was still in 5th here and thought about top 3.
While top 3 never happened, she did have the best-looking legs of the field (women's field, at least). That's some toned-up shank right there.
Yours truly cresting Brocken, full of pent-up Danish rage and energy after walking the last several miles. Small children averted their eyes when they saw the facial expression of this particular bad-ass
The finish; looking you and without a care for the world. I felt this-is-what-life-is-about good.
This is my bro, who at his college-days peak ran a sub-18 5K. He is blessed and cursed with the looks, physiology and metabolism of Jan Ullrich. He also married a great cook and many an Indian curry later, he is fighting his way back into shape. He ran the 22K mountain run in well under three hours, thus posting the achievement of the day.
This picture shows Der Jan being pursued by my dad and uncle. My dad is the guy with my future hairline and my uncle is the bi-sected guy one step behind. Both my dad and uncle got lost; even though they started over an hour behind the marathoners, they somehow managed to follow the marathon course. Halfway up Brocken, they were met by crew disassembling an aid station. They accepted the light beer and soup offered to them and jogged back down the mountain.
The relaxed man in tights is my cousin's husband. He cruised the 22K, but was probably in marathon shape. The guy in front of him is unidentified, but judging by his overall sweatiness, his bleeding nipple and his scream, my guess is that he was amply challenged by the course. And check out the German power-lady on the left. Typical German power-lady look, camel-toe and all.
Like her husband, my cousin wasn't even halfway spent at the end of her race, the 11K. She should have done the 22K and she showed off this fact by bounding several feet in the air with each step.