first race of 2007

so i did my first race of the season on sunday -- the sneezer rodney half-marathon. it was considerably gnarly for no other reasons than my own fucktardery. i haven't been training conscientiously, for one, and then i let a bunch of friends talk me into going rock-climbing the day before. we had a grand time, but my shoulders and traps were burning the next morning. it was like that time i went halibut fishing in alaska the day before the homer half-marathon. if you've never fished for halibut trust me when i say the challenge isn't in catching the fish, it's pulling that fucker up from 300ft. ronan the first mate likened the process to pulling a cadillac up from the ocean floor and after nearly weeping with fatigue pulling up a 23lb specimen i have to agree. [the fact that ronan sniffed disdainfully and pronounced my prize a "chicken halibut" before loosing it back into the sea only added insult to injury.] the next day i could barely lift my arms to pull on my sports bra, and when i ran i looked like those girls that do that goofy irish step-dancing with their arms at their sides.

after i blew out my upper body rock-climbing, we went to the Victory Brew Pub, which produces some great stout: thick with smokey chocolate and a bit of a bite, both in taste & alcohol content. i was okay with a handful of pints, but then somebody suggested shots of absolut red [and the red don't stand for desi(red)] and from thence the evening went rapidly downhill. i know i got home somehow because when the alarm woke me at 6:30 i was in my bed. i like when magical shit like that happens. if you make it home safely when you're twelve-cocked like that there are definitely gods at work.

i was still a little pished when i got up: i pitched from room to room looking for my glasses (on my nose of course) and i forgot what the lights on the espresso machine meant. i tried to center myself with some vinyasa yoga but every downward-facing dog re-introduced my petite fillet dinner. and when i filled out my race entry form i was so woozy and weak that the promoter couldn't read my chicken scratch and filed me as a male.

yet despite all this crapola, the day was actually quite lovely, with plenty of sun that felt so good on winter skin. nothing failed acutely: my hamstring, posterior tib and iliac artery all performed admirably and anymore those are my criteria for a satisfying run. i saw friends and training partners i haven't seen in months, and even though i couldn't remember their names and offered a neanderthal grunt in response, i appreciated them cheering for me. finally, there is nothing like a brisk run for detox.

with the exception of 2 slower miles on the hills, i ran an even pace through the race, with the 2nd half just 10sec slower than the first. i averaged just under a 7min mile to finish with a chip time of 1:29:35 (officially at 1:29:47), 12th out of 363 chicks, cos yes i am one even when i'm shit-faced. i didn't even stick around for the awards; i beelined from the finish line to my car to some V8 and then the sofa where i drooled all over the pillows for about 2 hours.

my body did retaliate yesterday at about 10am when i was visited with explosive diarrhea, the kind that makes you beg off work because NO ONE should bear witness to that. when i got home i raced to the can and released such a blast that the dog began to howl from the kitchen. he howls when the birdsong clock chimes on the hour, and i think he thought i was leading a new call, like that of a striped poofisher.

yes indeed, a very auspicious start to the 2007 racing season. first duathlon -- and qualifier for short-course worlds -- is in 2 weeks. i gotta start training.