The Grand Canyon Half Marathon

For a definition of the "butt-crack of dawn," you should only be awake before 4 am; therefore, by definition, we were awake and driving at the butt-crack of dawn. 2:45 am and driving. No coffee. Lethal combos. Hank and I were obliged to leave for the Grand Canyon Half Marathon early enough to sign in before 6 am three hours away. The only reason I was not trying to hide Hank's body by the time we reached our destination was the timely interferance of Claire de Lune.

Note on classical music and my non-coffee moods: I am a monster without coffee. Think Frankenstein's bride plus Hannibal Lector with a dash of Regina George and you will get the picture. That said, classical music cages the monster with melodies of heartbreak. It washes over my irritated soul to find the human under the fur.

Back to the story: We arrived at the Grand Canyon at the hour of 5:00 and were  among the first runners to sit in semi-frozen cars awaiting the starting gun at 7:00 am. YES. Planning is not my strong suit. Entertained by the outfits of seriously blind runners, we photo bombed smoky the Bear from our car. Two hours later, we ran.

Here is a short play by play of thoughts during the run

• 1-5 Mile Marks: Skipping through boring part where tons of people pass me. "Must be cheating with the whole 'in shape' thing."

• 6 Mile Mark: I noticed that everyone around me would sprint forward for about 5 minutes and walk for the next 10 (in which I would pass them and stay past them). They would complain to every milemarker that the altitude was "killer." Ahh to make friends who are dying in high altitude makes me oh so happy! "HAHAHA! I may be slow as turtles through molasses in January, but I run at altitude. Suckers!" (I actually let loose a maniacal laugh at a girl who I passed on mile 10. It wasn't creepy at all...Brain stinking ninjas)

• 11 Mile Mark: "Oh crud monkeys! I've got two more miles to go and I need to catch the girl in the crazy psychedelic pants for nothing more than to no longer be looking at them." They were making my brain hurt.

• 12.5 Mile Mark: "Must look good at finish! SPRINT legs!"

• 13 Mile Mark: "Darn Legs! That cute guy is watching, you better sprint!"

• Finish line: "DONE FOREVER!"... "Let's do that again endorphins! Woot ENDORPHINS!" As we all know, Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. Happy people just don't shoot their husbands. (or students for that matter) Thank you Legally Blonde for your advice.

Not twenty minutes after I finished the race (with a t-shirt and a metal to prove it), the sky began to gray. Small white crystals of water fell to the tip of my tongue. Snow. I was dressed in a tank top and flip flops and was blue all over before I got to the car.

Cheers for three minutes faster, altitude unfairness, and cute guys to spur you to do your best!