The inaugural Montgomery County Marathon in the Parks was held on Sunday, Nov. 5. The race quickly filled its quota of 1,000 runners and was a popular addition to the fall schedule in the Mideast-Atlantic area. Race organizers used Montgomery County's park system as both the theme and the physical backbone of the race. More than 23 miles are actually in park territory. For runners, the race was not only a challenge, but an event that brought them the sights, sounds, and smells of parkland in the fall. Kevin Adler, a freelance journalist from Takoma Park, provides us with view from the middle of the pack.

Before the race: Man, it's cold. It's sunny, so I know I will warm up later, but this is painful right now. I'm dressed in shorts and a long-sleeved cotton shirt - Dallas White Rock Marathon, 1997. I didn't run that race, but the shirt is meant as a confidence- booster. We're out near the Shady Grove Metro in an industrial-type area just off Rockville Pike. When I was in high school, a lot of this land was still undeveloped, and I remember thinking that a school in this neighborhood, such as Seneca Valley, was practically in another state. Now, of course, it's all built up, and the development of the King Farm on the other side of Rockville Pike cements forever that this will be a suburban area.

The start: I'm in the area for people who can run four-hour marathons, which is my optimistic goal. It would require nine- minute miles, plus short rests. I've done challenging 10-mile races, like Howard County's February race, in 85 minutes. Unfortunately, in my zeal, I have overtrained and developed tendonitis in my right knee. I had to cut short my final long training run two weeks earlier after 10 miles because of the pain. I take two ibuprofen before the race even starts.

Mile 1: Damn, I've got to pee. I'm looking for some woods, but we are running along a suburban road that affords little in the way of privacy.

Mile 1.5: I scoot off into the woods to relieve myself, and I lose my friend, Geoff Harris. He and I planned to run together for as much of the race as is comfortable and convenient. He's also completed one marathon. After my detour, it will take me nearly five miles to catch up with him.

Mile 3: Entering the park system at Lake Needwood. It's lovely. The lake is on the right, and we circle around it for at least a mile. Many leaves remain on the trees, although they don't have the spectacular colors of earlier in the fall. It's warming up, too, and I'm glad that I didn't wear sweats. Running 10-minute mile pace.

Mile 5: A fair amount of uphill work, but I've run a lot of hills in my training. I'm comfortably passing people in this stretch.

Mile 7: Heading into a water station, I hear some cheering and a faint sound of music. What's that? Hey, it's a guy playing the theme song from "Chariots of Fire" on a harmonica. Now that's a great idea.

Mile 10: Women in togas offering water. Some of them are dancing quite suggestively - or am I already delusional? I've improved my pace with a bunch of nine-minute miles.

Mile 10.5: Entering a long stretch along Rock Creek Park. Geoff says that he wants to open up his stride and go a bit faster. I tell him to enjoy the run, as my knee isn't allowing me to extend my leg any further. I give him a couple of ibuprofen, and he pushes off ahead.

Mile 12: I used to live quite near here, on Cedar Lane. When I was in elementary school, my parents would let me ride my bike to school along Rock Creek Drive and then up Cedar Lane, approximately two miles. Not sure if 10-year-olds are allowed to do that anymore. Certainly not without helmets.

Mile 13: Just crossed Cedar Lane, and - surprise -- there's my mother. My family said they would be in downtown Bethesda to cheer, but Mom decided to visit early because she has to go to a retirement luncheon this morning. Mom has been a nearly daily runner for about 25 years, though her only race was something we did together last year for Mother's Day. I stop for a hello, a hug, and pose for a couple of pictures. It takes probably 90 seconds, but hey, I'm not competing for a medal anyway. At the halfway point, I've been running for 2:05.

Mile 14: The Mormon Church comes into view. Beautiful, stark whiteness against a clear blue sky. I remember the controversy when it was built and the public-relations efforts by the church elders to welcome visitors for a limited time period. My dad got us tickets for a tour, and everything inside seemed to be golden. By now my knee is hurting a lot, and I change my running style to a short-step shuffle to reduce the pain. I take my fifth and sixth ibuprofen.

Mile 15: Three Stooges posters staked into the ground. It's the second time I've seen this, and I'm sure I'm not delusional. I saw some guys running with underwear on their heads, and I'll bet they're the Stooges. I think these guys are behind me, so at least I'm not slower than a Stooge.

Mile 16: There's Geoff again, struggling along pretty badly. I catch up with him, and he says that he is having leg cramps. He's able to continue, but it's obvious that he can't keep up with me at this point. He decides he'll go with me 'til we get to the next water stop. I forgot to mention that Geoff didn't train for this marathon - really didn't train. He hasn't run a single time in the past two months - too busy with work and family. So the fact that we're in the same place at about 16 miles says something about his natural strength, endurance, and competitiveness.

Mile 17: We're coming up to East-West Highway and a water stop. This is the nearest that we'll come to my home, which can be reached by taking East-West Highway to the West about four miles. Geoff heads towards the bathroom and says he'll catch up with me. I realize that there's no way he will catch me unless I have an injury.

Mile 19: After some short hills, we enter the rails-to-trails path that connects Chevy Chase with Bethesda. Using this path is a stroke of genius. First of all, it's the prettiest section of the entire race, with lovely trees arching over a wide, soft path. Second, it's totally flat - and that's a helluva lot better than running up and down East-West Highway. Without a doubt, this is my favorite part of the race.

Mile 20: Head into that tunnel under Wisconsin Avenue. On the far side, you know there's only about six miles - a 10K - to the finish. It's also the place where I spot my wife, Gina, and my two kids, Eliza and Emmett. I stop for hugs. Then, just ahead, as I'm getting a cup of water, I see my sisters and father a few yards ahead. Turns out that one sister, who's a vivacious, 36-year-old, never-married redhead, has been stirring up trouble: Among other things, when a good- looking male runner passes, she's been pointing at herself and yelling, "Newly single."

Mile 20.5: The downtown Bethesda section has the most spectators. Their cheering gives me a rush of adrenalin and a firmness to my step. This occurs even as I realize that none of them know me, but they're cheering for me anyway. It's not even worth mentioning how different Bethesda was when I was growing up, as everyone who's been here for 10 years has witnessed the creation of the mini-metropolis in place of the former two-story crossroads. With six miles to go, I've been running for 3:20, so I'll obviously finish far behind my fantasy of 4:00.

Mile 21.5: An ambulance, or really more of an ambulance-golf cart, comes rambling down the road behind me, it's horn honking. I have to pull off to the side to let it pass just before I enter a tunnel. Someone is in trouble, but I'm a bit surprised that it's someone who's faster than me. You'd figure that the faster runners are in better shape.

Mile 22: I realize that this is my last downhill section. My knee feels good, and I decide to let it all out. I run my fastest mile of the entire race - just over 8 minutes. Steadily, I pass people - and I smugly say to myself that they didn't do Takoma Park hills and the steps at the old Blair High School this summer. I fantasize about being able to run equally strongly the rest of the race, including the return uphill. Didn't turn out that way.

Mile 24: The turnaround. It's all uphill from here to the end. I wonder how all those people who were walking after the 20-mile marker will be able to make it on this gradual uphill. I vow not to walk for the rest of the race.

Mile 24.5: Geoff's wife, Jennifer, and their two kids materialize. I wasn't thinking about him or them. She asks if I know how he's doing, and I say that he is behind me somewhere, but I don't know if he will be trying to finish. I tell her to stick around for a while to see if he comes by.

Mile 25: I break my walking vow, sort of. At the last water stop, I stop, flex my knee, and take an extra cup of water. Just after I start again, there's Geoff, bent over stretching his calves and thighs. He says he's fine except for the cramping, and that he'll walk and run to the finish. I tell him that his family is just up ahead and that he's got about a mile and a half to the turnaround. He finishes about 40 minutes behind me - really remarkable considering his lack of training.

The finish: I love how the runners coming in towards the finish can encourage those who are heading down the trail with a few miles to go. I try to give people some cheers and encouragement, but the gradual uphill climb does sap my energy. I run my last mile in 12 minutes, despite pushing as hard as I can. There's the little S shape to the finish. I wave to my family again. I'm done in just under 4:27, bettering my first marathon performance by about 8 minutes. That puts me Number 363 of the 508 finishers. Middle of the pack, and I'll be back next year to try to improve on my time.