After driving home from the Des Moines Marathon (see my full report) my family and I went to Texas Roadhouse for a late lunch. (So much food, so little time!) There, we were treated to a brief course in how to spot a marathoner.
Behind my wife and I sat a group of three young women who arrived and left right around the same time we did. At the end of their meal, one of the young women commented on how good the rolls are (and they are!) A polite request later she was leaving with not one but two boxes full of those carb-bombs. And yes, she was wearing a finisher’s medal.
On the other side sat a family with a grown daughter, her boyfriend/husband, and her parents. How could we tell the daughter had run the marathon that morning? When her order arrived, it consisted of an order of french fries and not one, but two baked potatoes.
Me? I had rolls, chicken fingers, rolls, fries, rolls, apple pie, and rolls.