Victory!

Hi friends.   Here we are, one week since the last Hills episode, and I've yet to write a recap. 

And now tonight a brand new one will air, and I'll have to cover that one too.  At this stage, I feel like what's the point in dealing with the last one?  So let's make a deal, and pretend last week's episode never happened, and I'll vow to cover this week's in a more timely fashion.

Deal?  No?  Well too bad.

In my defense, I've had a lot going on.  For instance, last night I ran a 10k.  Some of you already know this because you follow me on Twitter (my latest obsession).  It was the Nike Human Race, and Los Angeles was just one of many cities around the world running on the same day.  

I signed up for it in kind of a vengeful move after I quit my training group for a different race because they were greedy bastards (or because I didn't like their rules).  After signing up for the 10k, I ran regularly for about 2 weeks.  Then I got lazy.  And then I got super lazy.   And then every time I'd drag my fat ass off my couch and go running, I'd be panting, practically falling over, and going at the fantastic speed of 35 minutes per mile.   As a result, I seriously doubted my ability to run a 10k, which equals 6.2 miles.  

Then on Thursday, I went online to the race's website to peruse the final details for the Sunday event.  It was then that I noticed, for the first time, that the race started at 8:31 pm.  P! M! I can't tell you exactly why but this pissed me off.  I suppose I envisioned that everyone else would be hanging out, engaging in Labor Day fun times, and I'd be like "Well, bye guys, I'm off to run around til I pass out."  

It's just that I preferred the traditional race timeframe.   You wake up early and get it out of the way.  So I called my friend Annemarie, who I was supposed to race with, and said "The race is at night.  That's stupid.  I'm not doing it."  She assured me she was fine if we skipped it.   I was glad to hear this, but also wanted to hear that she too was irrationally furious about the start time.  "Don't you think it's stupid?!"  I persisted.  "I guess.  Well, let's just see what happens."

The following morning, having stewed on the matter all night, I concluded that I needed to stop being a big, whining, useless human and take part in this amazing worldwide event.  

So Saturday night, Devin and I hung out with some friends of ours, and I drank entirely too much wine.  And smoked a few cigarettes.  And woke up feeling disgusting, and nauseated, and sluggish.   And my throat hurt and I was coughing.  I made my way off the bed and onto the couch, where I lay staring at the ceiling thinking to myself, "Well...that was a dumb move.  And now I've gotta run later."  

After moping around for a few hours, Devin asked, "Are you still going to do that race?" 

"Yes."

"Are you?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes.  Because if I don't do it then it means that drinking got in the way of doing something I wanted.  And then it means I have a drinking problem.  But if I go to the race, then everything's fine."

And so at 6:30 I picked up Annemarie and we headed to the USC/downtown area to gather for the event.  Immediately I knew I'd made the right decision.  I felt great.  

Here we are before the race:

And here are some of the other 12,000 runners wearing matching shirts.


The picture was taken earlier in the evening before everyone had gathered so it doesn't quite capture how insane it looks to see so many identically dressed people grouped together.  

And then, at 8:31pm, we were off!  It was actually really fun to be running around in a huge mob during the night.  People came out of their houses and stood on their front lawns, confused but still eager to cheer.

During the race, everything basically went fine.  At about 5 miles, I started to get a headache and then worried I was going to be one of those people you hear about on the news that's always perfectly healthy and then while they're running a race they suddenly collapse of a brain aneurism or an undetected heart defect.    But before I let myself get totally carried away, I concluded that probably I just needed a little sugar boost.  I remembered that I put a free sample of gummy energy boosters in my pocket.   They were handing the little packets out before the race.  So I reached in and grabbed the little gummies.   There were two, and each was about the size of 5 gummy bears mushed together.  

I guess I underestimated how much I was relying on my mouth to breathe at this point. Because while it was preoccupied with chewing the massive gummy, I couldn't breathe at all.  So for a few seconds, I panicked while making odd breathing noises like a pug.  Still, I didn't want to spit out the dern thing because I really needed the sugar boost.  

Fortunately, I survived the gummy attack.  Though if I had to write a review of this new product, I'd classify them as "tasty, effective, but really dangerous."  

I finished the race in, officially, 1 hour and 2 mins.   I checked my time online this morning.  A perfect 10 minute mile.  (And 4 minutes shorter than the time I originally calculated after I crossed the finish line.)  I don't know, it must have been the collective adrenaline of all those other runners, but I felt great the whole time.  

I tried to get a picture of me and Annemarie after the race, holding up our beers and saying "Cheers!" to crossing the finish line, but I kept screwing up the cellphone self portrait and after 4 attempts, I just wanted to focus on my drink and my french fries so I gave up.  

The night ended with a concert by Kanye West and Common.  I was sort of indifferent about watching it, but it was a really great show.

And that is the story of the first time in a long time that I actually accomplished something.