The first race I ever ran was a five-miler on a Thanksgiving morning (somewhere in the neighborhood of 11 or 12 years ago). I woke up to thunder and lightning two hours before the race. Secretly inside, I was completely relieved to have such terrible weather. I assumed they'd call the race off and I'd be off the hook. My husband at the time (<--now familiar to my friendly internets as 'Ole Tapioca Head') laughed. And laughed. And laughed some more. "You obviously know NOTHING about your fellow runners. The race will not be called off and you know what? Some people would still run even if they DID call the race off." I pointed out the lightning in vain. He chuckled, rolled over, and went back to sleep. I stomped around putting on my running shoes and the most obnoxious lipstick color I could find. (Sidenote: it is my firm belief that the brighter my lipstick the faster I run.) I met my training partner (none other than the most lovely VBGF) and we went to the race. Guess what? (Sidenote #2: every time I say 'guess what' VBGF says 'chicken butt' and it makes me laugh every time!) Anyway, the race was not called off. I came home to some 'I told you so's' but I didn't pout too long because all in all the race was good. (Great even - I mean, I'm still in this crazy sport, right?)
My next first race was a triathlon. They HAVE to call those off if there's lightning. Guess what? (chicken butt - ha ha ha) The race gods decided that instead of challenging me with lightning they would (fellas, cover your eyes for a second if you're squeamish) see what I thought about getting my period early. Swim! Bike! Run! - with Cramps! and Clotting! For the record, I thought it sucked donkey balls. (Ok fellas, you can open your eyes again.)
Now I am in my third first race. You know, the half-marathon I've been panicking about for way too long? I have loudly announced for MONTHS that if my cycle did not cooperate then the race gods could just bite me because there was no way I'd run the race. So guess what? (chicken butt - ha ha ha - see I told you it made me laugh every time) The race gods have gone back to their conventional weapons. There is now a 70% chance of thunderstorms for Saturday - starting around 3 am! And I don't wear lipstick any more! Worse - I have a lightning rod in my lip (um, and metal elsewhere)! Do you think that pierced persons like me are more likely to be struck by lightning? You know, because I needed something else to worry about besides whether or not I can actually run 13.1 miles?!!! Gah.
This is my last pre-race post. (<--That's a whacked phrase. Everything is hitting my funny bone. I think I'm a little wound up. Nervous. Punchy even. Oh lordy, someone find me a paper bag! Breathe, Lilymane, breathe!) Y'all think of me on Saturday, ok?