Let me tell you a crazy story…
Delusional from 4 hours of driving through this… :
… I asked B this question :
“Do you think it’d be harder to run a marathon injured, or without really training for it?”
Can you see where this is going?
I spent the rest of the day convincing my head I could convince my body to go 2x further than it was (not) trained for. I practically ran NWM one-legged, shouldn’t I be able to push a tired but healthy body that distance?
Forget about the 2 full weeks I spent on injured reserve after Nike. And the fact that “trained” as little as possible for just 4 weeks after said break. AND that I only had two double digit runs in that time (a miserable 13 miler, and a decent 10 miler)
Sounds like marathon shape, right? All those crazies are right – Vegas makes you do/think some crazy things. B should probably try and talk me out of having my bachelorette party there.
Anyways, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. We made it into LV Saturday afternoon uneventfully, sans my two frantic pee-stops. (I was averaging like, 50 ounces of water per hour.) We checked into the Desert Rose Resort, a quiet, no-frills, casino-free little spot next to the Hooters hotel. It was nice to be away from the chaos of the strip – AND we were less than a mile from the start line! Not to mention at $78/night, I’d say I win race travel agent of the year.
We left at 2:30 to go to the expo – plenty of time before it ended at 5. We headed over to Mandalay Bay and wandered around for a while, wondering where.tha.hack to go and why.tha.hack everyone was wearing 10-gallon hats and dinner-plates for belt buckles. B said I should feel right at home amongst “my people”. This would have been funnier if he would have followed it up by surprising me with Garth Brooks tickets. Or if Mandalay wasn’t bigger than my hometown.
Around 3:30 we finally pocketed our stubborn cards and asked a security guy HOW IN THA F to get to the damn expo. He laughed and told us it was on the other end of the strip, and NO YOU LUNATICS you cannot walk there. Stupidheads.
I threw a mini tantrum and didn’t say a word the entire walk back to our hotel. You think you’ve got every little thing planned out and then BAM! Stupidhead. Why would you assume the expo was at the same place as the damn start/finish line??
(p.s. our walk to the car may or may not have exceeded one of my splits from the race. I wish I’d worn garmin so I could confirm that for you)
Fast forward through us speeding down the strip, illegally parking at the Pallazzo, power-walking through the Sands, and picking up our shit. I was too worked up to check my shirt and ended up with a men’s medium. Too bad tech fabric doesn’t look good belted – it’s the perfect length for leggings and boots.
We didn’t hang around the expo long – we never do – but did drop off two shopping bags of shoes at the Give Your Sole booth. I’m hoping our philanthropic efforts cancelled out the select four lettereds I let fly on the way over. Tic for tac?
Oh and we saw Meb. He’s little.
I was hoping to see Josh Cox, because we are like, Twitter BFFs :
Did you know he won the marathon? Yeah. Don’t worry though, I told B I would never leave him for a professional athlete that makes less than 9 figures. (Also, Josh is married.)
I’m going to keep you hanging on the race recap. If you’re interested in hearing how long it took me to realize I was 200% phsyically unable to run the full, how thoughtful of a running fiance I am, and/or seeing a picture of B giving the best fake smile and thumbs up at 25.7 miles, come back tomorrow. Yo.
btw Moms and I didn’t get into Ellen. :( Mom’s a little heartbroken, but we took a kickass tour of Warner Brothers studios and shoveled mexican food in our faces to make up for it. After spending 2.5 hours in LA/OC rush hour traffic. Planning FAIL on my part, again. Somebody punch me.