Ignoring the portending doom of the millennium bug and the technical debate on the definition of the new millennium, local runners, most from MCRRC, flew half-way around the world to compete in the first marathon of the millennium, appropriately called the Millennium Marathon. We toed the line in Hamilton, New Zealand, where, at 6:00 am local time (noon New Year's Eve Eastern Standard Time), the crack of the starter's gun began the historic race. A few hours later all local runners were enjoying their buffet lunch along with their place in history. Additionally, one other local runner completed the first 10K of the millennium.

The story of the relatively small (1693 finishers) race actually began on New Year's Eve as some MCRRC party animals celebrated with dinner in a fine restaurant, then joined the locals for the midnight celebration on the main street. The celebration included a rock band, balloons, and fireworks. A few hours later, still in darkness with a moderate rain, we made our way to the starting line. Self-seeding came after some photos in front of the starting line. Here the excitement of the race and the special occasion that it was began to get the adrenaline pumping. As I made my way toward the back of the pack, I renewed some old acquaintances. I had my picture taken with Bill Barry, from El Paso, Texas, whom I had met at the 1997 Dublin, Ireland Marathon. A minute later, I ran into Johnny Jackson, from Chicago, whom I had met in the 1998 Venice, Italy Marathon. The light was just beginning to dawn as we heard the starter's gun. The rain began to let up and we were on our way.

Running in a marathon is a good way to see the city and meet people. The Millennium Marathon was no exception. I started running with a woman from Atlanta, a four-hour marathoner who said she would be much slower due to injury and lack of training. Right! When we reached the first kilometer in about 6:30, I knew that she would finish well ahead of me. Running alone for a while, I noticed that the course showcased the lovely residential sections of the city. As the light improved, we saw residents standing in front of their homes, under umbrellas, dressed in their night clothes, waving and wishing us "Happy New Year." A wave from me and they increased their cheering.

Along the way, I met some interesting people. A very senior Kiwi lady suggested that there were relatively few runners from New Zealand because they preferred to celebrate the night before. A woman from England told me she lived near Nottingham, of Robin Hood fame. A city policeman, controlling traffic on a bridge, jokingly warned me not to exceed the speed limit on the bridge. A man from New York was wearing a full Gore- Tex suit (in summer weather) because he, like me, had caught the flu the day before and wanted to "sweat it out." A couple wearing tights and jackets joked that they were wearing them because they represented the manufacturer. A spectator near the end of the race noticed the "USA" on my shirt, and trained his video camera on me asking where I lived; he had lived in the Washington, DC area for three years in the 1980s. Susan, from Chicago, ran with me for a while; she had run 176 marathons, at least one in every state plus DC as well as all seven continents--and she ran with me! Later, I met Jeff from Missouri; he had run over 400 marathons and had run the 50 plus DC and seven continents twice! Perhaps the most courageous people I met during the race were three runners, each with one prosthetic leg; I passed the two men early in the race, but the third, a diminutive young woman, easily ran by me midway through the race.

Water stops were sponsored and staffed by a variety of organizations. One was a Swiss group displaying a poster of the Matterhorn, where we have been for skiing; another was a Dutch group decked out in historic costume, complete with wooden shoes. Perhaps the most significant to me was the "cardiac zipper"; this group all had the same "zipper" scar on their chests that I bear due to open heart surgery.

When the rain stopped, we discarded our plastic bags, then the sun came out and we began to learn what it was really like to run a marathon in the summer. Now, the sun and heat, combined with the flu and three hours of sleep the night before, conspired to degrade my marathon performance. It did; I ran my slowest marathon ever. Nevertheless, I made it to the finish line and . . . what a reception!

The finish line was in the Te Rapa Racecourse, with the final 100 yards along the track in front of the grandstand. I entered the final 100 yards with no runner between me and the finish line. Then, I began to hear cheering, not just a few cheers from the few spectators usually remaining to greet their back-of-the-pack friends, but the same level of cheering that the winners must have heard as they entered the track. A look to the right and I saw about three thousand spectators cheering. I waved, and their intensity increased. Was it because I had waved or because another runner appeared a few yards behind me? No matter; we raced toward the finish line, the contest now only between the two of us. Each of us nearly exhausted from the rigors of the race, each wanting to win, both showing the crowd what the race meant to us. As I lumbered toward the finish line, I saw my wife, Kathy, who had already finished. The sound of the crowd faded into the background as I heard her words of encouragement and congratulations. She made the difference! I finished one second ahead of the next runner.

This race experience didn't end there. The post race "buffet luncheon" was absolutely the best post race food I ever had at any race anywhere, and that includes the festival after the Pike's Peek Race in Montgomery County. Later, at about the same time the New Year's parties were hitting their peak here on the East Coast, our tour operator hosted the Seven Continents Banquet in Hamilton. A genuine banquet, it honored several new inductees into the "Seven Continents Club" and emphasized the special accomplishment of all who completed the Millennium Marathon.

The next day in the local newspaper, we learned that the winner was a firefighter from Auckland, New Zealand. Mark Hutchinson's time was 2:21:58. Ann Buckley of the United Kingdom won the woman's division with a time of 2:43:56.

We (Kathy and I) had planned and traveled with some of our running buddies who are also members of MCRRC. Each arrived at the race on individual schedules. Paul and Jodie Friedman arrived from Australia where they had been visiting friends in Melbourne. Betty Smith also came from Australia where she had been on business. Fred and Penny Carson arrived from the USA, then toured New Zealand after the race. Bob Fabia and Kathy Aram arrived from the USA, then went on to Brisbane, Australia to visit friends. Kathy and I also arrived from the USA; then, after the race, went to Queenstown, New Zealand, the outdoor adventure capital of the world, before going on to Sydney, Australia and the Great Barrier Reef. Each of our group completed the marathon, except Penny Carson who completed the 10K.

At the pre-race reception in Auckland, I had the pleasure of meeting the famous Olympic marathon runner from New Zealand, Rod Dixon. When he asked what convinced me to participate in the Millennium Marathon, I could only answer, "How could I not?" This was an opportunity of a lifetime, one that will not be available to runners for another one thousand years. Now that the race is history, the wonderful experience is something I'll remember forever.