LAKE BUENA VISTA, FLA. (1/9/04) -- There are 24,000 stories in this growing-naked city: 16,000 marathoners and 8,000 half-marathoners shedding gloves and caps as the sun rises over Disney World.

MR publisher Art McCafferty hands me a mike and I interview Mr. and Mrs. Sponge Bob, costumed boosters who shout encouragement to a legion of joggers and walkers nearing the six-mile mark 90 minutes after starting.

I've run countless races and covered others from a lead car or at the finish. But engaging in discourse with cartoon Poriforae who cry "Whoo!" as minions "do" marathons while eating sandwiches, talking on cell phones and flinging wet garments aside till I'm wading through mildew mountains ... creates an epiphany I owe to Art and the burgeoning wonders of internet TV.

Since we carry press badges, Art and I can go directly to Stop: the finish line. There, the usual suspects - for us Michiganians - hold forth in the winners circle: Team Hansons members Clint Verran, Nick Cordes and Brian Sell finished the half-marathon together in 1:05:43, a Disney course record by two minutes. None ran wearing deely-boppers popular here with joggers, but Verran does sport the Golden Mouse Ears given winners: less prickly - though no more practical - than, for instance, a laurel wreath.

I've flown to the Sunshine State to do more than become the Geraldo Rivera of internet TV. My father, unable to walk due to clot complications, lies in a hospital four hours south of here. Once the human theme park completes its rounds, I will drive to see the man who taught me to run and believed in me - even in times when I didn't love and believe myself. I'll go visit Dad.

Confetti flies first for marathon-winner Matt Dobson, 34 - a prison director, coach and part-time professor from Jay (pop. 579) in the Florida panhandle. The front of his t-shirt reads "Jesus Saves," the back "Phil. 3:14 -- Press On." Dobson, who crosses in 2:27:58, describes how distractions like marriage and children stopped him from marathon-running for four years, "but now I'm back."

More paper rectangles fly when women's queen Kim Donaldson, 42, of St. Petersburg, rolls through in 2:59:11. She's a research associate for biodefense, holds a Ph.D. and reports how she pulled away from her training partner, runnerup Maryann Protz, after Protz had to stop twice for potty breaks.

The spectacle at the finish has only started. Greeting runners are pump-you-up music, cheers, an enthused announcer, plus capers of Pluto and Mickey Mouse. Whoever's inside those costumes - which they can't shed, even as the sun peaks and asphalt blazes - is getting a marathon workout too.

There's no lack of sideshows. I miss seeing Congressman Pete Hoekstra (R-Holland, Mich.) finish in 4:27:03, because I am photographing Verran, who makes like a latter-day Mouseketeer.

"I got a shot of a guy proposing at the finish," I say in the press tent. "Which one?" another reporter asks me.

Coatman, fresh - or at least smelling ripe - from crossing in 4:55:42, arrives at the press tent wearing his standard coat, wing-tipped shoes, collared shirt and tie, yellow mask and knee socks. He's toting the pizza box and water bottle he carries through all his marathons.

"This is the 92nd I've done this way," says Coatman, aka Dennis Marsella, 52, of Ft. Lauderdale. "I'm the longest-standing stunt marathon runner in the world." He credits an Eastern breathing technique, known as pranayama, for his ability to outlast rivals such as Perrier Man (who carried a tray with a Perrier bottle) and Pancake Man (who carried a skillet and rubber pancake).

"Coatman?" laughs a reporter from Miami. "He's a good story - once. Then you can't get rid of him."

Familiarity breeds contentment (if not contempt), even with our freaks.

Mylar blankets crinkle and wind-eddies swirl hours-old confetti as I return again to the finish and watch the six-hour crowd come in. Some summon a sprint, others hobble, gasp; almost all throw their hands to the sky in triumph. They've been affirmed! They have done a marathon! Bask and revel in every second!

Here's where the movie, or internet TV show, should end. Time to get my rental car at the airport. I think of Dad as I wade through wind-blown confetti, home. MR

Caption: Mickey and Pluto cheer Disney Marathon finisher