Race Report: Bronx Half Marathon

Well, I did it. It was cold. Next!


I was just going to post that, but you know me, I can’t shut up sometimes. Sometimes? Yes, I even know what you’re going to say before you say it. It’s like we’re married, or something.

WELL. Sunday morning I met up with running pals Susie and Denise for a quick ride to a race in the Midwest, a.k.a. The Bronx. It was originally named after a family who lived there named the Broncks, I’m not making that up. Sometimes I wish I had a time machine so I could go back and bring in a family named the Funckes. Which means today we’d have a borough known as The Funx. And you probably thought I’d write something else.

I’m not hating on The Bronx, but for a little while yesterday I was hating on the NYC subway system, which is always easy to do on the weekends. Due to track maintenance (somebody spilled an espresso latte with skim milk on the track, or something), we had to switch trains at 125th St. and join hundreds of anxious runners waiting on the platform to get to the damn race. So at 7:15 we’re standing there, knowing that the race starts at 8 and it would be nice to check bags and go to the bathroom before the race, etc. The train finally came and we made it by then, but my running friends (and many more) found themselves still in port-a-john lines as the starting gun went off. And I was even late, since I had to hit baggage check, too. Oh well, it gave me a chance to see the walkers at the end of the pack, who are usually nicer than the get-out-of-my-way speed freaks wearing headphones up front.

So off I went, weaving and passing and trying not to be one of those assholes running over innocent people, and I wasn’t. The weather forecast was dire, temperatures were due to drop at 10AM, and then the high winds would kick in. Every TV weather forecaster in the tri-state area had predicted end-of-the-world style cold for Sunday, and since it was still a balmy 40 degrees, we were all dying because we were overdressed for arctic temperatures that hadn’t yet arrived.

And then the winds kicked in before 9 o’clock, providing the type of gale force that makes you feel like your moving forward in slow-motion. I swear, it felt like my legs were getting pushed to the side every time I was mid-air. Since the route had a little bit of out-and-back to it, I was comforted knowing the headwind would become a tailwind, but no such luck. Thus the middle finger of fate struck again.

About three miles in I knew it was not National PR Day, and I decided to just keep a reasonable pace and not embarrass myself. So I did, and finished the damn thing. I was three minutes slower than the half I ran two weeks ago, but I’m over it already. The weather did get just a tad colder as predicted, so I got home (after changing trains again, thank you very much) and stayed there and watched the Hammy Awards later.

Speaking of, can we take Alicia Keys, John Legend, and John Mayer and put them on some reality C-list celebrity show and vote them off before they have a chance to open their mouths? Honestly, those camera whores would probably show up to play a Denny’s, all for a $10 buffalo wing gift certificate, f’Chrissakes. And I’m surprised Kanye’s ego could get squeezed into that auditorium, he’s out of control; these people actually make you want to root for Amy Winehouse, and that’s saying something. And while I’m being catty, I think Beyoncé needs to join me on some spinning workouts, her legs are bigger than Godzilla’s.

Now that that’s over, I can get back to discussing myself. Today….

I TOOK THE DAY OFF.

From being mean and sarcastic, no. But from EXERCISE, yes. Normally, I would’ve packed up the gym bag and hit the pool. But I’m still nursing a big old blister caused by the blue flippers I wear while playing junior aquaman amongst the little old ladies (who, incidentally, can kick my ass) in the water. But more importantly, my legs, and quads in particular, are just beat-down tired after a killer spinning workout and then a tempo run and then a wind tunnel half marathon, all in three days. I just didn’t have it in me this morning, and it was time to give my legs a day off for the first time since Christmas. Maybe it was eyeballing Beyoncé’s hams of steel on the HD plasma screen that made me decide on a one-day vacation, since hers seem to get LOTS of vacations. Anyway, today I just sit here and type and eat potato chips straight out of the bag. Nice.

Rest is important, people!