Because September 11 was the ten year anniversary of the 9/11 tragedy, the city of Las Vegas put on a remembrance run in honor of the 3063 victims taken that day. One runner, one fallen assigned each runner the name of a victim to run in honor of.
Wilson F. Flagg was on American flight 77 with his wife when it was hijacked and crashed into the Pentagon. He left two sons, and four grandchildren.
I definitely wasn't the fastest runner on the 9.11 K course, and might not have been in the most "runnery" of moods that day, but it was a neat experience to be a part of this event and to be thinking of someone other than myself as I made my way through the course.
We met downtown on Fremont Street and ran through the side roads in that area. Anyone that knows anything about Vegas knows that this is not known to be the best of areas. I went by myself, but at 4 am the only crazies in the area, were the crazies that were running... so I wasn't too nervous. After the run was over however, was a different story! I found myself on a downtown street by myself, not knowing which direction I was even going. As I passed a group of policemen arresting some old homeless looking drunk man, a big woman came running down the street hollering at the police to stop wasting their time arresting some innocent old man and to go find the person that were just violating her!
Yup. . . the regular crazies had come out!
Geesh, I hope I find my car soon. . . I mumbled to the only normal looking person nearby.
Me too! She answered.
I got out of there ok. . . I hope she did too!