Star For A Day

 

Sure Know Something….

I don’t expect that I’m the first person to have run a marathon in KISS makeup; I’m just the first person I know of.  Honestly, I confess to hoping that I am the first, and because my internet research on the subject turned up nothing, I’m going to presume I may be the first to at least admit to having done it.  Make sense?  This may, in fact, be original research that you’re reading.

So, why on earth would anyone want to wear KISS makeup while, of all things, running a marathon?  Good question.  I wish I had a good answer.  Truth is, I think it’s a manifestation of the peanut butter cup phenomenon.  You may recall the old television commercial in which one person who loves peanut butter collides with another who loves chocolate.  Bam!  The peanut butter cup is born.  Well, in my case, it’s less profound:  I’m a KISS fan and a marathon nut.  Two obsessions thusly converged. 

I first recall having the idea about a year before I did it.  It was during the aftermath of the 1st annual Salt Lake City Marathon in April 2004 and I was observing all the publicity bestowed on the race.  I wondered how fun it would be to stick out from the crowd in a way that my race performances would never allow me.  I hadn’t yet had my fifteen minutes of fame, and felt it was my turn.  If I was going to be a purple cow, I had to do it based upon something other than performance.  Now, I don’t want you to think that I walk these darn races, but let’s face it; a 3:10 – 3:30 marathon time – my range for the past few years -- was not going to get me in the papers.  I had to think differently.  Selecting face makeup as the gimmick of choice was natural once I’d thought about the aforementioned KISS fixation. 

After the makeup epiphany, the next decision was to choose a marathon.  Here in Utah we have at least 8 annual marathons.  Because Utah is not exactly known for it’s outrageous behavior (I’m not counting polygamy) I figured that getting noticed for doing something bizarre for the sake of bizarreness would be easier to accomplish in Utah than in, say, California, where, I’m told, runners are known to do it (run) in the buff.  I thought to myself, “If I’m going to pull this stunt in a Utah marathon, the Salt Lake City Marathon would be the logical choice.”  It would have the largest crowd, and by Utah standards, the populace is more laid back than most other parts of the state.

            I suspected that the temperature, while always critical for marathon runners, would be even more so when in makeup.  My hunch was that wearing face makeup would be like obstructing a car’s radiator with a thermal blanket – the car’s going to run a little hotter than normal.  All the more reason to choose a marathon which promised a more mild temperature than any of the other candidates.  That sealed the deal.  I was going to run the Salt Lake City Marathon wearing KISS makeup.

 

Great Expectations…

As April 23rd, 2005 approached, I began to get apprehensive about the whole idea.  It wasn’t, as you may think, the fear of others’ reactions.  Rather, it was the trepidation that I may have a literal and/or figurative meltdown if the heat was more of a problem than I’d anticipated.  As I’ve already said, my research turned up no clues as to what to expect.  Ultimately, it wasn’t until I watched the weather report the night before that I decided to go for it.  I’d been promised an overcast sky, a mild breeze and cool temperatures from a meteorologist who is correct nearly 50% of the time. 

On race day, I awoke at 2:00 AM, about 2 hours earlier than I normally would for a 7:00 AM race.  Right off the bat I realized that putting on clown paint in the wee hours is an entirely different experience.  Nonetheless, two hours later, the makeup was on, and it looked quite good if I do say so myself.  Except for one problem: the star was on the wrong eye!  If you are a KISS fan, I’m sure you already detected this in the photo nearby.  Paul Stanley would have been appalled.   How could I have made this mistake?  I always thought I knew Paul Stanley’s makeup well enough that I could put it on in my sleep…until I actually tried doing just that.  My only defense is that I had looked in the mirror and the star was going on the right eye – which, of course, was reversed in the mirror.  

Well, it was now after 4:00 AM and much too late to correct my misplaced star, so I awakened my wife, Sarah.  She had agreed to “set” the makeup, which, I’m told, is theater parlance for applying face powder to the makeup so that it won’t easily smudge.  She obliged me and I was on my way to board Trax, the local name for our light rail system.

I arrived at the station and waited anxiously in my car until a few moments before the train was to have arrived.  I was dressed in throw-away clothes, with my racing shorts underneath.  I’m sure the other passengers-in-waiting were wondering why a homeless person would put on Japanese kabuki makeup.  Once I boarded, I was greeted to the cheers, jeers and perhaps a few expletives from the passengers, most of whom were destined for the race starting line.  Many of the runners were, in fact, members of my running club, of which I am the club president this year.  Segue here for a moment:  If you are ever in the greater Salt Lake area and you want to hook up with some great local runners, look us up on the web at www.runloco.com.   Anyway, back to the saga. 

 

Psycho Circus

            The marathon committee had gone all out to both promote this event and give it a “big city marathon” feeling.  Joan Benoit Samuelson was even on hand to start the race.  The starting line was a frenzied mass of shivering runners…which I took as a good sign since heat exposure was clearly my biggest concern.  The temperature was somewhere in the low 50s, and I felt much more confident that I could actually pull this thing off.  For the first time, I felt an emotional equilibrium -- I was equally concerned about dehydration and smudged makeup. 

We lined up at the start, just north of the Olympic bridge, anxiously awaiting the gun.  I had exchanged my hobo clothing for a large garbage bag which I planned to discard after the first mile or so.  I was about 30 seconds away from the starting line when the gun went off, but as we were using timing chips, I could saunter toward the threshold. 

For the moment, I really was just another face in the crowd, which is the antithesis of what someone in face paint expects.  But, my anonymity was short-lived. Soon the crowd thinned out and my garish stunt was in full view of the spectators.  Now, I’m sure a mile-by-mile account of the race would become boring more quickly than the makeup began to itch (which was almost immediately), so I’ll just say that the crowd response was enthusiastic when it wasn’t confused.  I could pretty much guess the age of the person by his or her reaction.  Anyone who grew up in the 70’s got “it”.  They knew what I was up to. 

The heat was not the problem I expected it; but that is not to say the heat was not an issue.  The day had given me picture-perfect marathon weather.  Another 10 degrees warmer would have made a world of difference.  As it was, I estimate I ran the race about 10 minutes slower than I otherwise would have were it not for the makeup. 

 

Lick It Up

            Would I do it again?  Perhaps.  Once is a novelty.  Twice is a cry for help.  It was nice to be a purple cow for a day, but I’m not sure I would want my reputation hinging solely on a single stunt.

 

 

Kent C. Griffiths

 

 

Kent is a CERTIFIED FINANCIAL PLANNER™ practitioner in Sandy, Utah.  He can be reached at sage@lpl.com or at www.lpl.com/sage.