I ignored the omens. Omens included eating Mexican food, pizza, hot wings, and cake the day before; oversleeping; weather even nastier than predicted; and coughing technicolor loogies out of DoloresM2's car the whole way up (and race, and after).

Once you get into spokes's pants, and they've gotten wet, it's nearly impossible to get out. I wanted to throw them away a couple miles in, and I wish there were video of me hopping around, swearing, and falling over in drenched sweatpants. It was the highlight of my race.

I really needed to pee before, but the race had already started when we got there, the portapots on the course had lines, I'd already wasted nearly 5 minutes bunnying out of Scott's pants ... oh, and did I mention I was soaking wet from head to toe already, with Sponge Shoe Sydrome? So, I had this option of being warm for a minute or two ...

Elvis was running, bless his heart, and I said to him, "You're so hot I'm sorry to pass you." He replied, "Thank y'verymuch ma'am, I like the view from here just fine." There was a pirate, and a tall fellow with an umbrella who sang to the volunteers, but that was it for characters. I high-fived DoloresM2 as we passed each other near the turnaround. Oh, and of course I took a dog break--sweet chocolate Lab who just had to clean my face! :)

At Mile 10.5, I got the nastiest cramp in my foot--woulda just ran through it, but it was causing my foot to pronate so severely I would have had to run on the inner side of my foot. Couldn't walk on it that way, either, so took a few minutes' break to stretch it out and gingerly proceed. My feet aren't used to holding up waterlogged shoes, orthotics, and socks.

Had been on a 3:1 wralk 'til then, switched to 2:00/:30. A great ratio, more running, interestingly enough, and I may try it from the get-go next time.

Didn't have enough electrolytes; hands were good sausages by the end. Body and face generally puffy.

I ran straight through the last mile and got some good speed going into the finish--was about three yards from the finish line when the guy in front of me saw the photographer, CROSSED IN FRONT OF ME AND STOPPED in order to have his finisher's picture taken. I yelled at him and came to a screeching halt, but I really should have just body slammed and trampled him, 'cause THAT would have made for some finisher's pic. :) As it is, I'm pretty sure I didn't get one.

You mean, OTHER than not have a crazy week, stuff myself with grease the day before. stay up half the night carousing, then run while sick in the wet windy cold one month out from an injury and just recovered from being sick? How about not get into the car to go to the race?

Worn a fitted poncho with a hood that drew tightly around the face; waterproofed my shoes; chased a 2:00/:30 ratio from the outset; zip off throwaways (or a razor); latex gloves; peed before the race.

PRACTICED WITH ALL GEAR IN RACE CONDITIONS. I will not describe what the underwire in my sports bra I've run 3 (dry) marathons in did to the underside of my breast, but let's say it involved blood and a 4-inch gash.

Finally--RESPECT THE DISTANCE. Yes, it went quickly and was fairly tolerable, but 13.1 is no cakewalk. As the overly wise Ex-Fiancee #1 says, "There is no HALF of a highway to hell."

Wandered through the long finish tent, peed (a LOT--huh), sat down and ate the contents of my goody bag while waiting for Dolores and her dad.


Lack of brain cells containing common sense.


Fantastic race and very well run. Only minus is that it was really tough to wait 1/2 hour in that weather for a shuttle to the start line, and non-runners should not have been allowed on the shuttles (or had separate pay shuttles).

Super cool surfboard medals (see below, right). The other pic is me post-race with BLUE lips.