Running with the Plague and Other Misadventures

Well, hey there inadvertent hiatus! How you doin'?

Sorry for my long-term leave. I could make billions of excuses, but ultimately, I just didn't make time. I could lie and say that I've maintained a pristine running record in my writing hiatus, but really, I've been doing a weird 2x per week thing and am beginning to pay for it. Don't get me wrong, there have been plenty of runs and plenty of active adventures. To name a few:

1) Love 'Em or Leave 'Em Valentine's Day Dash (Green Lake, Seattle, WA)

This one was a lot of fun. As explained in a previous post in the style of emails, ShortSkirts and I ran as team Cupid's Angels. We wore ridiculously cute thigh-high stockings and ran the whole race together, crossing the finish-line hand in hand. Though Shortskirts and I have communicated our running adventures to each other, we had actually never gone on a run together. I had a great time with this new running buddy and hope to make joint jaunts a more common occurrence.

You can see me and Shortskirts running together at the beginning of the VDay Dash in this stolen photo.

Cupid's Angels show off their thigh-high Valentine's Day stockings after the race

2) Zoobomb's Minibike Winter (Portland, OR)

Every year, Portland's bike scene puts on a big party for all of the non-spandexed bike hooligans who love drinking and bike-related revelry. This particular party revolves around minibikes (children's bicycles that you build up enough to ride). Events include Chariot Wars, Minibike Olympics, a photo scavenger hunt, and a big warehouse party where bmx-ers can show off on a half-pipe before everyone gathers to watch multiple bike-dance troupes perform. First of all, I never put much thought into it, but damn. Portland is perfect for bicycles. Mostly flat, friendly drivers, bike lanes everywhere...it was actually kind of hard coming back to Seattle. Though my group did not participate in all the events listed, we enjoyed seeing fellow Seattlites compete in the Chariot Wars, drinking by the river, stops of unmentionable nature, hot tubs, VooDoo Donuts, the warehouse party, and of course, the company of each other. It was a great break from Seattle, from my job, from moving...it was perfect, actually.

Friends and bikes in sunny Portland

I pose on a heavy BMX bicycle (the one that a friend used in the CHariot Wars) while waiting for donuts at VooDoo.

Turns out that you can barely squeeze 6 adults into a photo booth, as we discovered in the Portland mall in search of swim suits.

3) Point83's F***ing Hills Race aka FHR aka Cascade's Chilly Hilly (Bainbridge Island, WA)

I'd like to begin by pointing out that we only pirate the course. We do not use any of the Cascade resources, food, water, rest stops, etc. The weather on this particular Sunday was disgusting. Rainy/snowy and wind gusts like whoa. We woke up late and pushed through a headwindy sprint to the meet-up point at the ferry. I was cranky. If there is one form of weather that pisses me right off, it's wind. And here I was, the morning after a rough conversation with the gentleman friend that kept me up way too late, leaving the warmth and comfort of bed for 33 miles of effing hills in wind and snow. When we left the ferry, someone yelled "go," and listening to the song Black Sheep from the Scott Pilgrim soundtrack, I began on my way, pedaling along on Kingsley, my pride and joy yellow LeMond Buenos Aires. I paced myself to another member of the club who is always pleasant, and usually keeps a pretty good clip. There were times that I damn near started crying, but kept on truckin' until I got to the one check-point of the race, a vodka stop at the beginning of Baker Hill. I asked one of the labcoat-clad drink peddlers how many women had been by. He gave me a pensive look, then replied, "Huh, I guess you're the first!" I gulped down my shot of vodka, coughed a bit, did NOT puke, then proceeded to granny-gear my way up Baker Hill. Surprisingly, the alcohol helped. Anyway, without a clue as to who was behind me at what distance, I hurried along, making friends on the way. I eventually started cursing the Seattle winter weather and topography. My quads were cramping, my calves were screaming, my lungs where heaving, and the wind was blasting into my face, bringing snow and strife with it. I pushed myself through the one hill that remained between me and sweet, meaty, warm chili and fell over upon completion. I was the first woman to cross the finish line and god damn. It felt good.

FHR finishers crowd around the bonfire as they cheer on their fellow pirates

Please tune in for part 2 of this post. I have no idea when I"ll have time to write it, but I'll make it work somehow.