disclaimer : you won’t be hearing about course congestion, chocolate milk, cab lines in Mandalay, or Gu/Chomps/Cytomax in this post. There are many (more timely and credible) blogs where you can read about that.
(I’m sure you have already)
Instead, consider this a recap on how to completely avoid race envy on race weekend. I whole-heartedly stand by my decision to party the shit out of Vegas with Emily instead of running the Strip at Night.
(also, anti-RnR since 2010. just sayin.)
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I don’t even want to attempt to put the weekend into words.
Even if I had writing skills higher than a 3rd grader and a vocabulary that wasn’t 90% dirty words and made-up words, it just wouldn’t be possible to sum up the awesome.
But I guess we’ll try.
Immediately after Sweaty Emily’s cross-country flight to Cali I shoved her broke foot in my car and pointed it east. Road tripping four hours through the desert at night is surprisingly tolerable when you’ve got a kick ass roadie and Mo Money Mo Problems to distract you, btw.
(‘”roadie” as in travel companion, not alcoholic beverage while driving, btw)
((we call those “road pops” where I com from))
Friday, 11:30pm : Sin City arrival.
Engine still hot, champagne popped.
Yup, in the parking garage, $3.99 lukewarm Andre straight into orange Solo cups. I’ve never pretended to be anything less than super duper classy, right?
Post-Solos we located blogger geek-out #1 where I revealed my drunker-and-dumber real-life persona to a few new strangers. I’d already conned Aron & Page into letting me stay in their room for the weekend so I bet that kinda sucked for them.
(Cely that makes you the lone stranger and I feel obligated to put it in writing that you passed your initiation. OUaL standards – super high, btw.)
After everyone retired to their respective slumbers/cooler parties, Em and I wandered into a Walgreens and picked up a case of Bud Light to have for the weekend.
… 10 minutes later…
We got bored/thirsty looking for our room so we perched at the Gondola river and talked, people watched, and drank warm cheap beer for almost 3 hours. Back up beers = depleted.
When our actually-running roommates woke a few hours later for their Santa Run we figured it’d be nice of us to not be drunk assholes forcing them to tip-toe around in the dark, so we got a head start on our day.
(I’m tempted to leave out the part about working out, which I feel discredits our party-pants-ONLY weekend reputation, but Emily swimming laps in the OUTDOOR pool is too ridiculous not to mention. My elliptical/weights sesh can be expunged from the record, thoughthanks)
Hmm, yeah, bad hygiene adds a little more OUaL-ness to the story.
After lunch with Ali & her bf (and finally showering) I had a real life epiphany :
Road racing is so last year. I’ll boycott my anti-RnR stance for the $5K 1st-place prize for the Stiletto Dash. Umm what do you get for winning a marathon? (I’ve obviously never looked into it) Bet it’s not five grand.
Look for me as a contender in 2012. Training starts tomorrow.
Ok, back to business.
If you’re looking for the most bang for your mimosa-buck, swing by Target for a 2.5L Rubbermaid jug. We had a long haul down the strip – from Venetian to Mandalay – and those babies got us all the way, no refills necessary.
What had us trekking so far, especially when 1/4th of our feet were booted?
Blogger geek-out #2. aka I’m A Terrible Dancer But Don’t Have To Run Tomorrow So Lets Bust a Damn White Girl Move!
(Thanks for hosting such an awesome event, Jess. And for being my kindred softball sister spirit.
The end of the night was pretty tragic with Em & I wandering desperately for what was obviously HOURS looking for food. Directionally challenged, mentally challenged, whatever the case – WHY SO HARD TO FIND A FREAKING SANDWICH IN THE CITY OF DRUNK AND BAD DECISIONS??! Gimme some damn french fries already!
(we eventually did, and it was terrible. it’s hard to displease a starving drunkard, but you, whatever joint appears as “ZOOZACRACKERS” on my credit card statement, did. blech.)
In the morning? We footballed. We beered. We tutud and sparkled and cowbelled the SHIT out of the race.
I think it deserves its own post…