austin 1/2 marathon and chicken shit bingo
Last weekend Kseniya and I did the Austin 1/2 marathon. It has become a yearly tradition, that CAJ, Kseniya and I make the weekend trip to Austin in February. Running the 1/2 marathon just gives us a reason to go there - as if we need one. And it my goal to keep my once perfect ass from descending onto my hamstrings during the gloomy January that Utah is known for. Funny that a person can even run in Utah in the horrible inversion we have here - especially a person with asthma. Anyway, that weekend in Austin seems to be like a protective bubble that keeps the rest of the world and it's troubles away from us for a few days.
It was 75 degrees during the run, which started at 07 on Sunday morning. It took every ounce of restraint I had to give in to Kseniya's "We can leave at 630 and get there right before it starts" suggestion. I like to get to these races at least an hour in advance so I can get in the porta potty line and talk smack and lies with other runners. Just like I fret about getting to the airport at least an hour before the plane leaves.
It worked out though and we got to the start line in plenty of time - but not time enough to visit the potties prior to running. And naturally, no matter how many times one pees or poops before getting to a race, one always has to go one more time. We leaned that Joan Benoit was running the 1/2 as was Lance "say it isn't so" Armstrong. She gave a pep talk - he did not.
At about mile 2, we stopped for our first potty break. Already there was no toilet paper, and it appeared those potties had been used by all of the 20,000 participants at least twice. I considered that the famous squat that we women do when we don't want our delicate and sweet asses to touch the toilet seat good exercise for my quads and viewed it as a yoga chair position. Secretly I was glad to not be a guy and have to stand up and look down at the shit piled below - literally. But we tough runners are not bothered by such things. At least guys can shake themselves dry -not so easy for us. And along the way, they don't wait in line at the potty - they just pull over to the side and pee on the road. "Nice stream" I always want to yell - but don't.
I think we both felt good and didn't push ourselves too hard. We wanted to have fun, and we did. There was a lot of music along the way and cheering crowds. However, I did not hear "Chariots of Fire" or any really good inspirational running music. The best was some gospel music that was being sung by what looked like a busload of Bible school kids - some young lad of about 8 maybe, was really putting his soul into his singing and it was great.
The miles seemed to just slip by so fast. A race isn't usually spent on serious talk and our troubles - it is a time to just enjoy the company and have fun. We entertained each other by punching each other's arms and slapping each other's asses. We noticed other people's shoes and tried to count the number of people we saw with toe shoes. We admired nice calf muscles and other parts. We ate sports beans and some honey type power bar that was so good and stopped for water and salty Gatorade. We stopped for another potty break and again....no toilet paper. I remember reading about the dangers of moist running shorts leading to vaginitis - but quickly put that out of my mind.
We were looking forward to our annual visit to Ginny's Little Longhorn and our game of Chicken Shit Bingo. Click here to see a video of this if you want to know more. We started chatting about it and some know it all lady ran by and said "If you think this is your last hill, you are mistaken. There's another one coming up and it's really challenging".
We weren't even talking about hills. Kseniya had done this course and knew about the hills anyway. We decided this woman was also the one who would tell newly pregnant women about how hard she pushed, how much she tore, and what a horrible pregnancy she had. Why people choose to focus on such negatives, I don't know. We live in Utah and the hills here were not anything like running up a canyon. We pranced up that last hill and headed for the finish line - yelling to the crowd and looking good (I thought). Joining hands, we crossed and both of us secretly probably wished we weren't done. I actually wanted to hold on to this day and moment and the run with my daughter. I feel so lucky to have run races with all of my children.
Afterward we had the usual "next time, I am going to do more speed work" and "I have to do some core training', and "let's drink less and eat less bacon". Wait I never agreed to not eating bacon, I hope. We found CAJ after wandering around a bit in the crowds of runners who were stinky just like us.
Another part of our tradition is going to the Woodland's restaurant after showering and resting a bit (It's on Congress street and a great little place). We toasted our success with a Miss Eudora drink - named after Eudora Welty the southern author, who apparently enjoyed a bourbon on the rocks each night. We celebrated our run and also CAJ's work on Eudora Welty - CAJ actually met her. A Miss Eudora consists of Bourbon, basil, vanilla and ginger, straight up. I am not sure if Eudora actually drank her bourbon this way, but it was sure good. At $8 a drink, and with all that bourbon, one is enough. After all we still needed to go to Chicken Shit Bingo.
For this one weekend each year we can get away from the cold and our jobs (or in my case, my lack of one) and just relax. God willing we can do it again next year.
It was 75 degrees during the run, which started at 07 on Sunday morning. It took every ounce of restraint I had to give in to Kseniya's "We can leave at 630 and get there right before it starts" suggestion. I like to get to these races at least an hour in advance so I can get in the porta potty line and talk smack and lies with other runners. Just like I fret about getting to the airport at least an hour before the plane leaves.
It worked out though and we got to the start line in plenty of time - but not time enough to visit the potties prior to running. And naturally, no matter how many times one pees or poops before getting to a race, one always has to go one more time. We leaned that Joan Benoit was running the 1/2 as was Lance "say it isn't so" Armstrong. She gave a pep talk - he did not.
At about mile 2, we stopped for our first potty break. Already there was no toilet paper, and it appeared those potties had been used by all of the 20,000 participants at least twice. I considered that the famous squat that we women do when we don't want our delicate and sweet asses to touch the toilet seat good exercise for my quads and viewed it as a yoga chair position. Secretly I was glad to not be a guy and have to stand up and look down at the shit piled below - literally. But we tough runners are not bothered by such things. At least guys can shake themselves dry -not so easy for us. And along the way, they don't wait in line at the potty - they just pull over to the side and pee on the road. "Nice stream" I always want to yell - but don't.
I think we both felt good and didn't push ourselves too hard. We wanted to have fun, and we did. There was a lot of music along the way and cheering crowds. However, I did not hear "Chariots of Fire" or any really good inspirational running music. The best was some gospel music that was being sung by what looked like a busload of Bible school kids - some young lad of about 8 maybe, was really putting his soul into his singing and it was great.
The miles seemed to just slip by so fast. A race isn't usually spent on serious talk and our troubles - it is a time to just enjoy the company and have fun. We entertained each other by punching each other's arms and slapping each other's asses. We noticed other people's shoes and tried to count the number of people we saw with toe shoes. We admired nice calf muscles and other parts. We ate sports beans and some honey type power bar that was so good and stopped for water and salty Gatorade. We stopped for another potty break and again....no toilet paper. I remember reading about the dangers of moist running shorts leading to vaginitis - but quickly put that out of my mind.
We were looking forward to our annual visit to Ginny's Little Longhorn and our game of Chicken Shit Bingo. Click here to see a video of this if you want to know more. We started chatting about it and some know it all lady ran by and said "If you think this is your last hill, you are mistaken. There's another one coming up and it's really challenging".
We weren't even talking about hills. Kseniya had done this course and knew about the hills anyway. We decided this woman was also the one who would tell newly pregnant women about how hard she pushed, how much she tore, and what a horrible pregnancy she had. Why people choose to focus on such negatives, I don't know. We live in Utah and the hills here were not anything like running up a canyon. We pranced up that last hill and headed for the finish line - yelling to the crowd and looking good (I thought). Joining hands, we crossed and both of us secretly probably wished we weren't done. I actually wanted to hold on to this day and moment and the run with my daughter. I feel so lucky to have run races with all of my children.
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| Kseniya and I sometime after finishing - we look great! |
Another part of our tradition is going to the Woodland's restaurant after showering and resting a bit (It's on Congress street and a great little place). We toasted our success with a Miss Eudora drink - named after Eudora Welty the southern author, who apparently enjoyed a bourbon on the rocks each night. We celebrated our run and also CAJ's work on Eudora Welty - CAJ actually met her. A Miss Eudora consists of Bourbon, basil, vanilla and ginger, straight up. I am not sure if Eudora actually drank her bourbon this way, but it was sure good. At $8 a drink, and with all that bourbon, one is enough. After all we still needed to go to Chicken Shit Bingo.
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Here we are outside Ginny's little Longhorn |
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