St. Paddy's 5K

Sunday came far too early for a girl who, though sober, still didn't hit the hay until after 2:00 a.m. I crawled out of bed repeatedly to hit the snooze button, following up each wack of the alarm with a gangly leap back into the bed (not sure why I don't walk to the side of the bed to get back in; instead always hurdle up onto it at the foot and walk/crawl my way to the top, sighing with pleasure once I'm back under the warm, warm maiden aunt patterned coverlet, thankfully covered with a lovely earthy brown duvet...)

In any event, I digress. Eventually I had to get up if I was to make it to the race. After brushing my teeth, popping in the contacts, gasping at the atrocity that was my hair (yes, another Teen Wolf meets Bridget Nielsen ala Rocky IV moment, this time coupled with some Christina Applegate (in the early 90s) style bangs...how do they DO that?!), I meandered into the kitchen. Ah! Sticky floor! Some sort of solidified bread bowl dip on the stove! Orange gatorade and Guinness in the lines between linoleum tiles! And bottles, cans, cups...every drinking receptacle you could think of. I had to face the truth--my apartment was a war zone.

Needless to say, I poured myself some pre-race water, ate some pre-race rye toast and settled into some cleaning, having the worst of it out of the way by the time Kate, Sean, and neighbor Dan had arrived for the race. The three of them pitched in for another 10 minutes, while Kate's fiancee Seb lay on the couch moaning in a hungover agony. Then, we were off!

The race started about four blocks from my apartment so we were there quickly. I continued to insist to Kate that we were going to "RIP" this race out...this is what happens when I run 5 miles in about 10 days. Waaay too much energy and no outlet leads me to rash decisions.

But also PRs. :) at 24.21.

Hoorah. My knee may still be hurting me, but my soul is divine. And dammit, I felt like A RUNNER again.

And after that, a little more mopping didn't seem so bad.