AHOY

Oh. My God. The exhaustion.

Week 2 of half-marathon training, and I hit a bit of a brick wall. Mostly because: it's only Week 2. Brick walls are not allowed. This shall not do.

Went to see Harry Potter the other night. I've been an avid fan since the books first came out, and have seen all of the movies. This one was, truly, spectacular. The special effects were amazing, the 3D not over-zealous. And Mrs. Weasley called Bellatrix Lestrange a "bitch." And Ron made out with Hermione. And.... [insert spoilers here]. Delightful.

In other news, tonight I am going to do something I swore I wasn't going to do. I am climbing aboard an Urban Pirates tour. I eschewed it mostly because I thought it was overrated and it wasn't going to come anything close to Gasparilla. But then the boyfriend uttered the magic words: there will be beer. And I haven't had an excuse to wear my skull & crossbones scarf since Nicole Richie got married up and decided to dedicate her life to child-rearing, accessories-designing, and keeping boho alive.

Tomorrow is the 6-mile race. In the woods. At night. I'm pretty psyched for it, so long as my body holds up and I don't trip on anything or anyone. Mostly, as always, I am excited for the after-party. A guy I know in Federal Hill does competitive biking, and we were comparing the aches and pains and disasters and glories of biking vs. running, and he quoted an author (perhaps Hemmingway?) in saying "I do not like writing; I like having written." The same, it seems, holds true for biking and running. I do not always like running. But I like having run. The satisfaction I get in logging miles, in pinning my race number on my wall next to the others I'm amassing, in comparing times and courses is monumental. The actual running part of it...well, most of the time, it sucks. It's hard and it hurts, and it leaves you feeling about a trillion years old. Sometimes.

And then sometimes you feel pretty damn spectacular. Pushing yourself, training, seeing and feeling results are all substantial positives of taking on something athletic.

And, you know, post-race beers taste the best.

Ahoy!