So, I don't mean to brag, but...I ran a half marathon. That's right. 13.1 miles. In one day. Without stopping. Thank you, Hal Higdon, for providing the best half marathon training program a girl could hope for. And thank you, Sister, for actually sticking to Mr. Higdon's training plan, so you were well positioned to yell at me to keep going and stop being a baby as you sprinted up each hill and then turned around to look in disgust as I barely remained upright. (Note, the previous sentence was only a slight exaggeration.) I look forward to actually training for my next half marathon. Sister, you are a total rock star. My apologies for holding you back. I salute you, and I can't wait to do it again.
As you may know, the aforementioned half marathon was in Vermont. As you may also know, Irene hit Vermont just a bit harder than she hit New York City. We all saw the news footage of that beautiful old covered bridge being torn apart and carried down the river. I'm here to tell you that the news wasn't lying to you (even if it was just The Today Show, and not the real news). Lady Friend and I navigated the detours (and the detours to the detours, following last week's rain), with what I wish I could call grace. I am happy to report I cried only once (and it was the perfect moment, as you will see). As we searched for our mountaintop hotel the night before the race, Lady Friend and I drove past a red light with a barely legible sign placed next to it which read "STOP ON RED. ONE LANE ROAD AHEAD. UP TO 18 MINUTE WAIT." As we drove past, I started to read the sign, then yelled, "Stop!!" Startled, Lady Friend kept going, but yelled at me, "What!? Why?" And as I saw the rest of the sign light up, I yelled once again, "Stop, stop!! Red!!" (Obviously, full sentences and the entirety of the English language escaped me.) I shed a tear or two (or seventeen) as the car came to a stop (did I mention our phones had had no service for the past hour?) The light turned green, and we started along a rocky road along the river. We saw houses with only half the structure remaining, and debris everywhere. We came to the end of the one lane road and breathed a sigh of relief before coming to another sign that said "Road closed." Naturally, there was no arrow or "detour this way" sign accompanying the sign. Finally (and by the grace of some higher being), my phone started to vibrate- Sister! She had just made the arduous journey from her small Vermont town south to the mountaintop hotel and helped us navigate our way over there, through the unmarked detours. I have never before been so happy to reach a parking lot in my life.
Sister, you were my savior twice this weekend. Gracias! (Note my use of Spanish here, in anticipation of your upcoming trip to Sevilla.)
Oh! Have I mentioned my new apartment? I'm moving next week! Crazy. Yes, I'm moving to the Upper East Side. Yes, I have spent much of my time since moving to Manhattan dissing the Upper East Side. Yes, I am still moving there. BUT my new studio (with an alcove!) is huge (if I am remembering my apartment viewing properly...), AND I can walk home from work. Now all I have to do is pack up my entire apartment in the next week...while I'm in Austin. (Oops.) Here we go, ACL!
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