I’m finally home after a very long weekend of driving, which started on Thursday, June 3rd.  I’m not sure I can put together a coherent post, so I will bullet my way into some semblance of decent writing, and perhaps you can get the picture of this non-race I ran. 

Thursday, June 3, 2010

  • School is out.  I drive to take my kids to my parents’ house.  They get to spend a week there every summer without me.  Everyone wins on this one.  My brother in law picks them up, and I head to Dodger Stadium for the Atlanta game.
  • I meet up with Mike, Melissa, Candy, Nadim and Bob, who gets us GREAT seats on the third base line.  This is the beginning of a great weekend.  Laughing, trash talking, generally eating too much Dodger food.  No Dodger win, but Candy got a ball that I wrote all over, so as to commemorate the evening. 
  • The best part.  Taking pictures afterward.  Exchanging Twitter handles.  Eating crap food.  Realizing that people who don’t use Twitter are losing out on a great opportunity to expand and include more love and laughter in their lives.

Friday June 4, 2010

  • I must get to San Diego.  I drive to Kate C’s house.  This is a woman who’s opened her home to me, and lets me stay in this quiet, lovely condo.  For nothing.  Now, that’s trust.  Friends of Bill W. are like that.
  • I get to the Tweetup organized by Lori, Candy & Alison.  I meet Ali, a soon to be marathoner…another person I talk with daily…along with Lisa & Gretchen, Erin & her hubs, Michael…and Yasmine, the mother of the baby below, the list goes on and on.
  • I meet so many people there, I cannot comprehend, but more than anything, I am over-thrilled and just want to pinch his cheeks:  I meet my coach, Josh…also know as SpeedySasquatch.  Here is a man I talk with daily, and get workouts weekly, and email and text…and the only time I’ve met him was him running by me at the CIM relay.  He’s much younger than I imagine, and he is underwhelmed in my presence, so I work even HARDER to get him riled up.  Nothin’ doing.  I spend the time with him trying to get his grits cookin’, but give up because I realize this will come back in the form of 2-fers.  2x daily workouts. 
  • We eat at The Yard House, we walk to what I thought was the beach with Dan, Josh & his brother, Ali, Elyssa.

Saturday, June 5, 2010

  • Run 20 minutes at my hostess’ neighborhood.  Little jog.  Sweating bullets.  Blech on humidity. 
  • I drive back in to San Diego to meet up with Team Twitterati: Glenn, Josh, Mike  There is a separate post on these three men, but suffice it to say…Glenn is my confidante with most things running & twitter…Josh is my coach, and Mike is simply the kindest, coolest dude I have ever met.  I convinced him to do the relay thinking, poor guy…hasn’t run since November…and I will not mock him when he walks into the transition place. Boy, was I wrong.  Mike ALSO took me through the drama of last summer with the ex-hubs antics, supporting by email and twitter.  Good men.  Great team.

  • We have a brain-storming breakfast and head on over to the Expo…where we are given a DRUMSTICK….a drumstick, and the volunteers tell us we must run with this thing.  And, I go back several times to really see if we have to run with it.  And yes, we do.  I am not amused.

  • We spend lots of hours at the Expo, see Danica, Sam, meet Scott (a Dodger fan, and my new best friend who I get to tell the Kurt Gibson story), and see more of my team.  I meet the infamous, John of Hella Sound…the man’s music has carried me on more than one run…and I fall in love with his energy!!

there’s the stupid baton again ^^^

  • That night, Kate and I go to the La Jolla Speaker’s Meeting, and it is simply lovely and peaceful, and I come back, ready to get a good night’s sleep…I’m only running the last leg after all, shouldn’t be too bad…

Sunday, June 6, 2010

  • I am quite sure I set the alarm.  But, what wakes me up is Glenn texting me saying: I hope you’re awake.  Uh, I’m not.  I’m throwing things together to try to get to the Qualcomm stadium parking lot, to drop off my gear, and catch a trolley to my leg.
  • No, not to my leg.  To the dropoff.  Then I get to walk 1.7 miles to my transition place.  I walk with a lady from Bakersfield.  (I always wonder what happens to the people I meet and then never see again at races)

  • There’s the stupid baton again, but that was the early morning texts I got from Glenn & Bob, and that’s Mrs. Hoofy with Hoof (Mike on the trolley)…Oh, and that’s me at the transition point.  I hear you look thinner if you cross your legs…I have my TNT shirt on just in case some purple wants to share the love, even though I’m not part of it today.
  • We get to the transition area.  Waiting.  A long time.  Everyone is relaxed.  A downed runner, who collapses, and not one medic around, or in the area.  Other runners are trying to get this guy taken care of, and it is scary.  A good 20 minutes goes by before an ambulance comes.  People are calling 911.  Not a good sign for Rock And Roll…you’d think they would have someone there for Pete’s sake.  #fail.

The Actual Race

  • My favorite tweets from Glenn :   !%^@#$*^ When he is done.  I am laughing SO hard.
  • Glenn:  @SpeedySasquatch has been unleashed.  I just have this visual of my wicked fast coach. Unleashed.
  • Mrs. Hoofy:  “He” (Mike) just left.  Here’s where I get excited, after the 3rd trip to the bathroom (for reals, man), and I think poor Mike, he hasn’t trained, he must be so tired, etc.  Then I see her.  Then she gets a text from him that he is at mile 19.9.  Already.
  • I look up and there is my coach, having run a little more to get to us…he’s actually there to run with two on our team, but of course I think he’s there for me. 🙂
  • Then…holy hell.  Here comes Mike.  Sweaty, full of sweat, and kicking ASS so hard it’s like a speed demon.  I am wildly excited and feel thrilled!!!


  • I take the baton.  Out of the chute, over the overpass.  I am feeling strong.  My first mile is 9:46.  I am already impressed with myself.  I am thinking.  Damn.  I gotta start training for reals.
  • Mile 2 is getting a little harder.  Cuz we are on dirt.  Lots of dirt.  Lots of winding, and I can see people up and around this little Non-Fiesta island…and they are all over the place, so you never really know if you will ever leave.  Sort of like a house of horrors…because you’ve already seen people leave…but you.  You will never get off this island.  Could be a good horror flick 10:26 for Mile 2.
  • At this point, I do NOT know what to do with the freaking stick.  It’s in my hand, in my hat, in my bra, in my back, and I heard Josh had it in his mouth.  I just keep passing it back and forth.  Plus, I know that real marathoners HATE relay peeps, because they are so damned fresh.  Well, not me…but most.  I’m just getting hot.  I take water.  I start to think this is a sicker, southern California version of Lake Merced of Nike Women’s Marathon…someone is water skiing.  Really?  Mile 3 11:01. There’s a pattern here.  It’s hot, and I’m hot, and I have only run 3 miles.  It was somewhere around this hell that I saw HellaSound.  With signs.  Yelling.  Jumping.  It helped…a lot.
  • Mile 4, I see this guy walking.  I’m like DUDE.  You do not want to walk.  Talk to me.  We run.  The rest of the way.  But he is significantly tired.  And I’m tired.  But, I’m going to run with him.  Mile 4 11:19.  And I start to feel as though I can make it because hey, I’m supposed to be helping HIM.  I’m hot.  Have I mentioned I’m hot? 
  • Mile 5 is better because I know we have to be spit off this island at some point.  Mile 5 10:39.  People are spraying us, dousing us with water.  The guy I’m running with is bald, no hat, no glasses, and MAN it’s toasty.
  • .78 left …I see Gretchen, I see Glenn, and he runs us in.  Finally, I give the guy to Glenn, and I slow way down.  I’m not going to walk, but I want to.  I’m just not sure I can face my coach or my team and tell them I walked my part of 5.7 miles.  I hear the Rock And Roll people, and know I gotta get there.  The last .2 was LONG and much longer than a lap it seemed.  I finally, mercifully, cross the line. 
  • I walk back and forth.  Find and lose Glenn and Josh.  See Ali, and get to run with her for .4 miles or so.  What a treat!! I walk some more on the beach.  Stand by the 26 mile sign.  Until finally, we are in the weirdest line to get on the bus to take us to the trolley to take us to the stadium.  More on that with my next post.  But here is my favorite picture of the weekend.  I couldn’t get my coach to get into the Ms. V. emotion, but this picture reminds me that I simply adore him, and tomorrow I will get a plan from him, and I am convinced beyond anything, that this Fall, I’ll be getting that Marathon Success at Marine Corps Marathon.

Tomorrow:  My thoughts on Rock And Roll Machines…but for now.  Bed.

4 thoughts on “Wherein Twitter & My Real Life Become One…

  1. girl, regardless of your thoughts, frustrations it is so cool to meet so many tweeps who kept you going and trained you this year and might i say all that training shows…you look hot!
    i’m jealous and will now whine a little becuase you got to run and i didn’t.
    congrats my neighbor.

  2. It’s funny…when running in the summer I always think, “When did HOT become a 4 letter word to me?” Way to keep pushing through!
    Oh, and Josh doesn’t get excited…well, maybe when the Patriots win the Superbowl he shows excitement. Anyway, I am glad you want to pinch his cheeks. ;p
    “I cannot comprehend, but more than anything, I am over-thrilled and just want to pinch his cheeks: I meet my coach, Josh…”

  3. All I have to say is when you said “drumstick” I thought….ice cream cone, man I gotta start running again!

  4. Man. I’m pretty far behind if I’m just getting to Monday’s blog posts! Great seeing you this past weekend. Looking forward to SF at the end of July.

    Just betwenyou and me – I stopped twice on my leg – both times at water stations to get some fluids in. Man was it humid!

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