The Rupaul Sighting At The Chicago Marathon #ThatWasnt

…because you all love me so much and read all some of these things that I post, I thought I would share this. Remember my friend, as in the guy that is super funny that I totally haven’t met yet but have to introduce him as my friend so this doesn’t seem weird? Yes! That guy from yesterday!!! Well, he decided to recount his Chicago running experience, and now that I have FINALLY stopped laughing, I can share it with you!

OK... So here we go. Chicago is an awesome city with crazy fan support for the marathon. Nothing is more awesome than thousands of people screaming at random strangers as we all foolishly run these insane distances for God only knows why. Yeah 26.2!! We are so stupid. Runners are one of nature’s punch lines. Anyway... Let the stupid begin. My race Chronicles:

1) Couple things I learned early through my own stubbornness... It’s difficult to run with a full bladder and my threshold for holding my breath in a marathon port-a-potty is about 30 seconds. Forced the ‘p’ out so fast almost gave myself a hernia.

2) There’s such a thing as having too many running accessories. Runner has a full book bag, a running belt with six water bottles and other stuff on it. He has a full set of keys clipped to another belt and he’s jingling. Is he running or going camping?

3) 6 miles in. A guy is running in drag (I think) and I swear its Rupaul. So much so that I got up some nerve, ran up on him, and had this exchange:

..or nah, bro? LOL

Me: Rupaul, Rupaul!! What's up man!

Him: Huh? What!? (Sounding pissed!!)

Me: (switching it up) Oh my bad, I thought you were my man Paul that I went to college with. (I sped up... Checked behind me to see if he was chasing) Moving on...

4) 10 miles. I'm starving!!! Got two fig newtons from a race supporter and i swear fo’ God those fig newtons were the greatest ever made on earth. I so wanted to double back but was secretly wishing that he’d get in a car and drive further up in the race so I could see him again. Race hunger makes you irrational.

5) A Native American is in sight and I swear I have no idea this person’s gender. But he/she her/him’s hair was amazing. Is it relaxed? Calves were masculine, facial bone structure somewhat feminine. I stayed within eyesight for about 4 miles trying to figure it out. I got no resolution.

6) Man down. “Too many d@mn accessories” guy is receiving medical attention. Ummm... yeah. I guess he should pitch his camping tent now.

7) 17-18 miles: A small child sent directly from heaven gave me a blue jolly rancher that I so desperately needed. Thank you God, the everlasting Father for sending me your baby candy angel. That Jolly Rancher had a slow sugar release as I let it sit in my mouth for easily 4 miles.

8) An Asian guy is running in a full suit and tie. Jackass. That is all.

9) Mile 20’ish: Two ladies are sort of fussing because apparently one spat water on the other inadvertently at a water stop. Collateral damage I say. We're too far in to these miles for this foolishness

10) Mile 22'ish. Barefoot marathoners? Really? My ankles and achilles would explode. Either that or I'd have athlete's feet up to my crotch.

11) 22 - 23 miles. The 400 lb marathon monster always jumps on my back around these miles. Geez. I feel like a pack mule... the mule who carried Jesus... only the 12 disciples are on me too. This is stupid. Chicago is dumb.

12) Mile 26. What is the deal with these marathon organizers putting hills at the end of the courses? Haven't I proven myself enough?? Can I get a flat finish? Why, Lord whyyyy??

13) I'm finished (hooray me!) And now I'm hording and gathering these snacks like I'm grocery shopping. I think I have a banana tree in my goodie bag along with everything else that was already in there... Make that two good bags. It's amazing the sympathy you get from race volunteers when you’re walking like your 100/years old with dried salt streaks on your face.

Them: Congratulations on your finish!

Me: *thinking* less talking, more snack giving

14) I can't stand the smell of me right now. Next up, 1/2 Ironman in two weeks. #IGotProblems

Didn’t I tell yall that I love this dude?!?! Hit him up! Congratulate him on his Chicago Marathon greatness. Tell him how crazy awesome he is for taking on an Ironman! Or pray for him, because he knows what he’s doing, and he does it anyway… You got the info…but if you’re too lazy to go to yesterday’s post, here you go: m.kendrick.miles@gmail.com

I'm Only Half Crazy #FinishItJesus #26.2Left #1%Club

As I look at all the amazing finisher photos on this #MedalMonday, I am really inspired by all of the Chitown Runners! They did their thing! Congratulations Runners!! #IwishIOwnedChiTown #IWantAMedalToo #butIWannaEarnIt #CantIJustBeGreatLikeThemJesus

I’m not like them at all. The most I can do in this moment is be proud of them, like I am my Uglee (it's a long story, she earned that name)! Yall don’t know, but the only reason I’ve made it this far running is her anticipating all of my needs as a fledging half-marathoner. She makes sure I get all the encouragement I need before race day, after race day, and in the right shoes. And she's already done this! She is a marathoner. And she treats my 10K medals like superbowl rings! You'd think I did something more amazing, but for her, it is. I owe many a weary mile to her. It’s like she’s clairvoyant or something. She knows I’m going to finish before I even start. Crazy, right?

So, I guess I’m kinda like them. Marathoners. Let my friends tell it, I have run a marathon. See, I ran a half marathon in June, then I ran one this October. So basically…….math. But since I’m kinda like them, I know there is a HUGE difference between running a half marathon, and sacrificing your life for that other 13.1. I mean, you've got to prove yourself on the pavement to be a 1%'er. I wanna get in the club. I wanna hang out with Uglee in there!!!

I go back and forth between committing to such an endeavor. I mean, I’ve done enough half-marathons to the point of suggesting we do one, is like asking if I would like to go to Happy Hour… I’m like Tank, when?? But a full marathon… You mean, 26.2 consecutive miles? On the same day? I mean, do I get the whole 24 hours to get them in? Or nah?

I’m scared, yo. S C A R E D.

But the homey Alicia Keykey signed up for her first marathon (for 2015)…which kind of makes this challenge more real, because we’re homeys. We ride together…to Old Navy Sales…and will die one day together, because we eat inordinate amounts of bacon, with bottomless mimosas, cause you gotta drink your fruit (with champagne)! So I mean, I gotta be there. I flew from Virginia to California just to run with her. It’s serious. The running blood goes deep.

But I’m not registered yet. I was close to clicking “submit”…then I read this:

As I sit resting up to handle this ‪#‎ChicagoMarathon in the morning, I wanted to share the hilarity of the chronicles of my last marathon in Anchorage Alaska. Enjoy.

A truly... Truly unique experience. First Alaska is a stunningly beautiful state from the little I've seen thus far so if you can swing it, put it on your bucket lists of places to visit. Now... About that run... Chronicles:

1.) 8am start and the rain is torrential. At least when I start slowly peeing myself around mile 9... No one will notice.

2.) Mile 5'ish. There's a dude running this marathon in sandals... Personal challenge set... He will not beat me.

3.) Mile 8'ish. A kid maybe about 14 wizzes by me. Personal challenge set... If I see him again I will throw a rock at him.

4.) Around the half marathon point... The race has become a narrow trail run and we are running in the freakin woods through mud and rain. I don't remember this being on the brochure. Alaska is stupid.

5.) Mile 19'ish... Runners are stopped on the trail. There is a freaking moose blocking the trail.. A FREAKING MOOSE!!!

6.) Mile 19'ish. The moose isn't moving. Yah... Get out the way!... Shoo moose shoo! One guy is not happy. The moose is unamused... Not budging.

7.) Moose still chillin... Its been at least 10 minutes. The kid will not be the one to tempt the moose. Same guy suggest throwing a rock. I set up to run in the opposite direction if he does.

8.) I'm hurting right now anyway... Maybe if I lay on the trail the moose will trample me and put me out of my misery... The runners stopped are now about 30 deep.

9.) Moose finally saunters off the trail to the right... Runners slooooowly walk past him.

10.) Mile 21 - 22. Sandals guy passes me... Oh hell no...! I speed up.

11.) 1/2 mile later... Sandal guy passes me again... Eff him and his sandals... I got nothing... My legs are weary.

12.) Mile 24... Legs feel like they are detached from hips. Alaska is stupid... This is stupid.

13.) Mile 26.2... Finished... That was great... Alaska is awesome... I'll take 88 orange slices, 12 cookies, a gallon of Powerade, and that whole loaf of cinnamon raisin bread please.

14.) Chicago 2014... You're next.

Marshall “Squill” Miles

Dude was prepared to go toe-to-toe with a moose… IN ALASKA! I mean, how can I do a marathon?? I’m afraid of my Uncle’s dog and you mean to tell me we gotta fight the wilderness creatures for medals?!?! Fix it Jesus!! Hold my mule and the moose! Okay, he wasn’t prepared to take on the moose, but that dude in the sandals liked to go dealt with by my man. And then, AND THEN, he insults my injury by showing up and showing out in ChiTown! This guy… He’s funny… I like him…

I saw the New York City Marathon in action, on accident. The homeys and I were enjoying brunch in one of the NY boroughs when we noticed that the streets were blocked off, and people were running…and other people were cheering…and everyone seemed to be okay with this. In my experience, people running and police blockades aren’t exactly happy events. But when it’s the NYC Marathon, every single person is cheering every other person on. It’s hard to be mad when you’re there to witness something like that.

That next Monday, we saw people walking around Manhattan with medals around their necks. I knew that I would get my chance one day. Then I googled NYC Marathon, and saw the race map and mileage. And I thought, maybe someone will let me take a picture with their medal. Yea, that. Do THAT.

That day has stayed with me since. I want to get to that place where I schlep my God given life, and the thing that contains it, 26.2 miles. I should believe in my legend more than I do. I mean, 10 years ago, I couldn’t convert a 5K to miles, let alone sweat. If you asked me what it was, I probably would have said, money. Yet, in 2011, I stood at the starting line of my first half marathon, with the bestest friend a black girl runnin’ could ever have. He smiled at me, and told me that my ride home was waiting at the finish. And leaving Las Vegas without a medal that year did not stop me from going back again.

I have completed 13 races of my #14in2014 this year, and the thought of a full marathon, though exciting, scares me. The moose does too. I’m not sure what it is (not the moose…got that...afraid of that) keeping me from my eternal running glory…but I pray I live long enough to figure it out.

Thank you, Marshall for letting me share the hilarity that was your Alaska Running experience! And...congratulations for taking down the city of Chicago at the Marathon this very weekend! 

Did you think his #Chronicles were funny/awesome/inspirational/[insert your word here] too?! Hit him up! m.kendrick.miles@gmail.com

Camo Aint Coverin' This!

So, I told you all about that challenge my lady-women-female type friends were doing, right? And how I slick didn’t participate but blogged in my attendance a few times? Yea, that. So, one of the challenges was:

Day #13, Wear something you never would: This is going to sound a little crazy, but the hardest thing for me to get used to when I move to San Francisco from NYC was that no one wears heels here! I mean, my feet are grateful, but I now feel a little self conscious walking into a restaurant in pumps. But today I am challenging you, and myself to wear something you normally avoid. For me it's heels. What it is for you? Snap a pic and post it for us.

Here's why what you wear matters. When you put on sweat pants, ill fitting jeans or a worn-one-too-many-times sweater, you feel sluggish, low energy or flat and very often we'll reach for a sugarly pick me up to get out of our sweat pants induced slump. When you wear something fun, edgy, even exhilarating, you feel ah-mazing, and you no longer need food to give you your jolt of fabulous. Your shoes did that for you. Sure, clothes aren't the whole story, which is why I spend so much time talking about the inner work in Live More Weigh Less, but it seriously helps a lot.

And much like one of my friend-women-ladies doing the challenge, I thought, what wouldn’t I wear? Or at least give a try? I love trying new outfits! Accessories? Bring it! Shoes? Right…exactly. I am all about changing my style, doing something different, and reinventing my wardrobe. Of all the challenges. I knew this was the one that would not challenge me. At all.

Then I got ready to run. Challenge on.

I don’t wear running shorts for long distances because, aside from the fact my thighs are cottage cheesy and taking away from the awesomness that is my calf muscles...there is the rub. And friction with 0.1 miles left is hell. Trust me. I rarely do the exposed arms thing because I want to run, not take off. And you don’t frequent flyer miles for the speed at which I run…so arms stay covered.

I always see people in the cutest running gear! It’s colorful. Tight fitting. Prints. Stylish. Chic. Headbands, that match the tank tops, that coordinate with the pants, that bring out the sparkling reflectors of the shoes.

Then there’s me. A long sleeved black top, black Spaulding running cropped pants, and Ascis Gel Kayano’s a half size larger because, well, feet need space.

I envy them because their bodies are beautiful, and mine is tragic. Like really, it’s a mess under here. Yea, I don’t let the numbers on the scale affect me too much, but the mirror? Ugh. I mean, it’s mine, and I’m stuck with it, and I’ll do my best to do right by it, but I also think it’s important to be kind to strangers, so I pretty it up.

It just so happens while Sarah Jenks was busy figuring out how to challenge us, I began challenging myself. As I was perusing the neutral activewear options, I came across a pair of camouflage printed pants. We know my love of camo, so of course I bought them. And I was happy about it.

Until, of course, I got home and walked by the mirror. And realized I had a donkey on my back and I was going to have to figure out how to stuff it all in those pants. Um…about that… *folds pants up, places them in bottom drawer, acts like it never happened, folds receipt up*

And I have really been chilling like those pants aren’t my bottom drawer taking up space that is not infinite. Until this text conversation with my Rikki, who’s running Rock N Roll Las Vegas with me! See she thinks it would be a cool idea to run-rock-drink-repeat in a tutu. And, she’s super willing to do ALL THE WORK. All I have to do is get ALL OF THIS DONKEY on my back in it.

Ma’am.

So, I thought I could outsmart her right? I love camouflage…surely they haven’t gone through the trouble of making tutu material out of that camouflage stuff. I’ve never seen a ballerina go to war. I respond *cleverly* that if she finds one in camo, that it would be the only way I would do it. Because it’s not 2014. And we haven’t put a man on the moon. And nope, we don’t carry around next to lightweight devices that control our every single minute. Nope…none of that.

I hate everything about every internet ever made. Ever. I’m like Scarface in Half Baked. F-U Pinterest, F-U Etsy, F-U Lightening speed data network, You cool, and F-U Google Search! I’m out!

What am I supposed to do now? Sarah challenged me. My women-female-lady friends challenged me. Rikki is challenging peer pressuring me. And the finite amount of space in the bottom drawer is mocking me. #MakeItStopMama

I mean I suppose it was bound to happen. I have been stretching people to their limits all year. Telling Forcing Demanding Asking them lovingly to do things they never intended their minds, bodies or pocketbooks would do. And they did them. And got some new found greatness at the end of it #MedalMonday. Became different and better for it. Realized things only that experience could have done for them.

And here I am in this room ready to cry real tears because my booty is too big and when I walk it’s like it has a mind (and social calendar) of its own and moves like it has somewhere else in a different direction to go. I literally almost had a breakdown when I accidentally looked back at my butt attempting to speak to a staff member. I stood, in my footsteps, attempting to figure out, how to walk back to my office, with my booty concealed. Dee talked me off the ledge and up the stairs via group text.

…and now a tutu.

Dammit. #OffToStretchTheStretchinessOutOfTheseCamoPants

Run Like A Jogger! #NationalRunningDay2014

Get Up. Get Out. Get Moving. Well, after work, I will do all of those things. Mostly because I’m not like some of my running counterparts who will wake before Jerusalem to tackle the pavement. Ain't nobody for time to be interrupting Idris Elba making pancakes in my dreams for that. Yes, he's shirtless.

On this national day of running, I shall reflect on my very first run. The Wicked 10K in Virginia Beach. One of my RHDs suggested that I do the race. I wanted to crawl under a rock. Sure I run. But that’s on a treadmill. In an air conditioned gym. With other people not interested in what I’m doing because they’re working out too. If I run outside *gasp* people will look at me! They will see me *double gasp* Running!

I can’t have that. I really can’t.

But she was persistent. You run in costume. The race ends on the beach. There is lots of awesome race swag and free beer! It is basically like an adult Halloween party.

Okay. I got a little time for that.

I registered. Next stop, race expo. I had no idea what I was getting into. I figured there would be a line where you pick up this “bib” thing, and then you leave, right? Wrong! I had never seen so many people at an event that wasn’t a concert, or a fair, or an airport or Black Friday shopping. I mean people everywhere! And they are happy. Like legitimately happy.

Guess I’m doing this. I get my bib. I find my shirt. They give me a cool bag. And there’s more. More free stuff! Yessir! This is amazing. I should always listen to my RHD. She’s all knowing.

It’s the morning of race day. I’ve looked up the directions to the parking area and start line. I’ve made my way into my fairy wings. I’ve pinned my race bib to my shirt. I’ve laced up my new balances. All that’s left is to do this thing. This really scary thing. Run. Outside. Where. People. Will. See. Me.

…and it was the most amazing experience ever. There were some awesome costumes. Happy people. Strangers cheering us on. Other runners clapping for each other as they pass. I mean a bunch of very nice people. Granted I can’t do all the things they’re doing because, well, breathing is difficult. But I make note of it. I take it all in. I smile between gasps.

As I am coming up on the finish line, I am thanking God. Literally thanking Him for making this end. I mean, I am done. Like why in the HAYLE would I agree to run 6.2 miles? This is nuts! But I’m almost finished and I’m hungry. Just. One. More. Step.

At the finish like I am thinking about my life and my choices and the decisions that lead me to this sweaty existence. Then this young lady hands me a medal and says Congratulations!

The biggest kool-aid smile adorns my face. I look around, and I think to myself, OMG! I won! I won! I can’t believe it, I won! And I am excited. Legitimately excited. Only, I look around at the hundreds of people already on the beach. The people with costumes, and race bibs, and beer, and medals.

My life was changed in 2010 more than I could have imagined.

But wait. I won. I got a medal. How did they win? Did I not win? I’m so confused. But I’m hungry, so there’s that. And it needs my immediate attention. I’ll figure out who I return this medal to later.

My RHD explained the whole race thing to me when we got back to campus. Everyone wins because everyone starts, and finishes. It doesn’t matter how fast you are. It matters only that you compete. You’re not out there running to beat anyone but your best self and of course, the pavement.

I never wanted chilli like I did in that moment #groupie

Wow. It makes so much sense. I can do this. I can start. I can finish. I can always show up and be my best self. And yes, I am terrified that people will see me and judge my ill-formed, newborn elephant’esque running form, but maybe, just maybe they will be like the folks who were out on the course in San Diego. The people so excited to see us pass in full sprint and half step alike. Every one of us got a cheer and a smile. And if their intentions are less than honorable, you can always post your #MedalMonday picture. It’s not like they’re getting a medal for that sideline hate.

Whatever your reason for running, remember that it’s yours. It belongs to nobody else but you. You are the only person who knows that it means, because you created it. You nurture it every time you lace up those running shoes.

My National Running Day. #2014 #SanJose #LunchRun

This National Running Day I sent a fellow #BlackGirlRunning my race calendar for the year. She replied to my email thank you, and commented on my email signature…

"...see you wouldn't ask why the rose that grew from the crack in the concrete had damaged petals...on the contrary, we would all celebrate its tenacity, we would all love its will to reach the sun...well, we are the rose, this is the concrete, and these are my damaged petals...don't ask me why...thank God...ask me how." #TupacShakur

I ran today because there would have been no way that I could have seen the sunflowers bloom from the concrete of these San Jose streets otherwise. And believe me, they are in full bloom! 

Fantastic = Foolish: Running The Difference...

…because most of these posts begin because of conversations, huh?

          Person: So, what do you have planned this weekend?

          Me: Oh, just gonna run a 10K with a friend.

         Person: I don’t understand? Running seems so tough. But you seem happy about it.

          Me: It is. Quite frankly, running sucks. But, Medal Monday.

          Person: *confused*

          Me: I know. Me too.

It never fails. After every race, I really feel like I won. lol

Me too. I do not get it. I do not get why I will leave Church, feeling all saved, sanctified and submerged in the blood of the lamb that was slain, to change clothes in my car, to run The Dish.  It does not make much sense. And I do it willingly. With a smile on my face. Knowing that I am going to get a mile and a half into it and, look at my life and my choices, wishing my sassy gay friend had convinced me to go to the Mall; the outdoor Mall literally right down the street from this place. And, I will continue on, to the finish. Another day closer to another medal. And be satisfied.

Just like the aforementioned person with which I shared my weekend excitement, there are those, like um…unbelievers who will not understand the joy on my face at the opportunity to worship and praise when I hear a song about wanting to worship God, for the actual literal fear that a rock might cry out in my place. #NotHappenin #ImCompelledToTellYouDyingMenSomething Much like I have no shame in telling you about how much I love Jesus, I feel no shame in the smile on my face when I am regaling this world with tales of my latest medal and upcoming running event. #Oakland #RunLikeHellaWithMe

And if you are not a runner, you will never comprehend the look on a runner's face when you say you purchased your running shoes at the Mall and not from a running store after a proper sizing. And if you are a non believer, you will never understand why a believer hastens to their secret place to Thank God when all seems to be right in their world. And it shouldn’t. ¹⁸For the preaching of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; but unto us which are saved it is the power of God. #ICorinthians1

So you get a pass. I used to get one. I wasn’t always a believer. Or a believer that I could be a runner. Hell, or ever a writer?!

Like the first day I showed up at The Dish with T.M.A. She invited me to walk it with her after work one day. Graciously, she met me at the Palo Alto Caltrain Station, and fought through traffic #thankyougurl to get to this place where we would walk our troubles away.

As I made my way through the gate, I thought to myself, “Um...where is this dish thingie she was talking about? ...and why is this steep ass incline in the way of it?” But, I was a stranger wandering a foreign land, so I followed her lead. TMA was a Dish’r, and I was not. I had no idea why anyone in their right mind would want to walk up that thing, with no sign of a “dish” in site.

There is a long, steep, hard, paved path to the top. The path is marked with trees, squirrels and coyote warnings. You will hate your life and your choices along the way. You will curse the crazy day that left you no other recourse than to pound the inclining and declining pavement. Endure. Press on to that mark, for the prize – what awaits you at the top. The beauty of Palo Alto and every other thing there is to see from that place. Have you ever been to the top of The Dish? You can see the sky touch the top of a mountain while the wind blows the most healing breeze. The traffic of I-280 even looks majestic from that place. There are those who will never be able to gain admittance to grandeur that is Stanford University. But from the Dish, you can see it for what it is – a small plot of land surrounded by an entire world to experience. And all Dish’rs know this. And because they know this, they suffer – because it is worth it. “It’s soooo worth it.”

That is what I feel at the Start of every race. The pain, soreness, exhaustion, eventual dehydration that lies between that place and the Finish. The fear of potential injury. The desperation of wanting to be faster than I was the last time. The doubt that I "might don’t" make it. But I know what it feels like to finish. To get that medal, place it around my neck, and realize that yet when the road seemed too much to endure, I did it.  

It’s totally okay that you’re confused. I’m going to keep running, and asking you to take #MedalMonday pictures with me. You'll figure it out, eventually. And what was once Foolish, will begin to equal the most Fantastic thing you ever did. Like trying Jesus. . . 

MEDALS MOTIVATE ME: Race 4, Medal 3

"The Legend of Extraordinary Luck"

…so here goes it. Question? What do Mariachi Bands, Banana Republic, Pizza and Green/Camouflage Sperry’s have in common?

Easy! The San Jose 408K Running Experience! Race to the Row 2014! Yes folks, the 408K is in the books! I literally woke up Sunday winning. And it wasn’t just because my very first love, my Daddie was born March 2^nd! Happy Birthday Pops! I did though, you know, wake up winning, even in the drizzle of San Jose. When I called him after the race, he said:

Daddie: You ran 5 miles? Hmph. I don’t think an ambulance could help me get that far! #He’sHilarious

I convinced my Bay Breeze FB friend turned running buddy to drive down for the race even though she planned to run it virtually. Talked one of my employee-running-friends to do the race as a precursor to the Tough Mudder, KD a.k.a. Dr. Splits On Trees came to pound the pavement with me after our January trail adventure and my Angelica Rollerskates even showed up for some post-race fun!

Told you. #WINNING

       

Friday Race “Expo”: ugh. Orange race bib. I should have said I was going to run faster than my actual pace so I could have gotten a different color. That teal over there is everything! I would have even been able to better accessorize that grey. What in the world am I going to do with this?

*smile for the camera! #anotherraceexpocherrypopped*

Saturday, Pre-Race: The devil is a lie. Chance of rain? Welp, that means no chance I am running without braids.

*spends Saturday watching He-Man & the Masters of the Universe, braiding hair*

Sunday, Pre-Race: *this is my excited for #medal3 face* -_-

Start: This is going to be fun. I think. #doingthisforRFII

Mile 1: No rain yet. Sweet. Even though I spent all day yesterday doing my damn hair. Anticipating rain, that isn’t coming. #bestweekendever

Mile 2: I kinda like this route. San Jose got some nice stuff. What neighborhood is this again? #MeLikey

Mile 3: I want a taco. Ooooh! The cherry blossoms. I want to live on this street. And eat tacos.

Mile 4: I know damn well it's not about to rain right now! Dammit. #justsprinkles #notthecupcakes #TillmanMemorialMile

Mile 5 (0.97): Um, how about you finish the race. It’s not necessary to take a picture with EVERY Mariachi Band you see on the Mariachi Mile.

*pause*music*selfie/groupie*run*repeat*

Finish: This one was for you Roc! Okay, now where are the mimosas and tacos?

Post Race: Included hitting KD (aka Dr. Splits on Trees) in the face *kinda* trying to take a picture jumping at the photo station and the best pizza and mini cupcakes a girl could pay for! Yasssssss!!! There was even a chartered bus ride back to my free parking spot on the street near the SAP Center. Did I mention I probably had the best post-race pizza ever?

Angelica: She’s never been here; she might need a minute to check out the menu.

Me: I know what I want. I want pizza. I want the pizza with the most meat on it.

Waiter: Then you might want to try this one.

Me: Okay. But that doesn’t look like enough. I’ll have it, but um, add that fennel sausage to it too.  #noroastedonions

Everything about this race was awesome. Great neighborhood route. No backtracking. Happy runners and walkers. A Mariachi Mile of music and smiles. And of course, Medal #3. I could not of asked for anything more. And I didn’t. But I got it. At the Race “Expo” I stopped by the Athelta table. The nice young lady there gave me a bag, a purple and grey hair tie, “Power of the She” tattoos and a card to redeem a surprise gift card ($5 to $50) on race day at their store in Valley Fair.

I crossed over Santana Row to the Mall to get my goodies at the Athelta store, right? It just so happened to be a $20 gift card to Banana Republic…which turned into the cutest top I am going to wear to some special event soon! Because a $20 gift card, plus 40% off = WINNING! #mymathisgettingbetter

I accidentally stopped by DSW because it was in the way of me getting home, right? Just so happens, there were some Sperry’s I accidentally left there. Which happened to be 70% off. So, I was basically just picking up shoes that were already mine, because, camo everything, is everything to me.

AND…hello? My 3^rd Medal! I am sooooo winning!

Yep Mrs. Bradshaw, medals totally motivate me too.

Today’s Race: 8K, 408K: Race To The Row, San Jose CA

Medaled Miles to date: 17.37 miles

#theycouldhaveroundeditupto5milestho

Total Raced Miles to date: 20.47miles

11 Medals To Go ǁ 21% Complete