My mom’s birthday was Friday (Happy Birthday again, Mom! Love ya!) so I made her a pan of lasagna which The Boy, The Puppy and I brought to her and shared with her this afternoon, along with a store-bought tiramisu. The lasagna was yum, if I do say so myself, cheesy and dense and rich. The tiramisu was okay, but I’m definitely going to try to make my own next year. Or convince my mom she wants a sour cream mocha chocolate cake instead : D
Did I take any pictures of the lasagna, the tiramisu or even of my mother? No, I did not. This is because I was completely preoccupied with keeping The Puppy from antagonizing my mom’s 150 lb lab so that the lab wouldn’t eat The Puppy. Or sit on him. So no pictures. Sorry.
However, I do have a few hastily taken and shakily executed phone pics from this morning’s Run the Pier race!
This was my second race. I was super excited about it because it takes place on Navy Pier. Nnot that I’m in love with Navy Pier. Quite the opposite. The only good things about it in my mind are the Chicago Shakespeare theater and the lake. And really, there’s A LOT of lake to be had in Chicago without resorting to subjecting onesself to The Pier. I was happy that it was on The Pier because it’s relatively easy to get to, the course is kind of predetermined so there’s no guesswork (the course is running around The Pier. Doesn’t really get simpler than that) and I’ve had some pretty good times at The Pier with friends in the past, and it is a Chicago landmark.
Anyway, my heat started at 8:20. I wanted to be there by 7:30 to have a chance to check in, warm up, find the bathrooms, and cheer everyone else on as their heats took off. I got up at around 6:10, took a quick shower, got dressed, grabbed my gear and made breakfast. Around 7:00 I left for Navy Pier. Before I left, I checked in with The Boy, who had mentioned the possibility of him and The Puppy going with me. He was too out of it and I didn’t really leave him much time if he had roused himself enough, but before I left he said some nice stuff in his half-awake-ness : )
Usually the expressway is a total disaster heading Downtown, but today the scene was more like this:
Awesome sauce! I arrived at The Pier with no trouble and right on time. I checked in and picked up my t-shirt and bib, stashed the shirt in my car, and proceeded to warm up and get the lay of the land. While I was lurking and listening (two of my favorite activities when I don’t know anyone and no one knows me), I overheard a conversation between two young men with British accents and an extremely intense 30-something woman. The boys (they were probably in their early 20s) were wearing what appeared to be street clothes and extremely hip street shoes. As in, these are my ironically grown-up brown patent leather Rob Petrie Big Boy shoes!
They told Ms. Intense With A Side Of Intense that they were on The Pier to find breakfast and thought that it would be fun to “have a run.”
It was pretty drizzly the whole time I was waiting, but it started to full-on rain when they called my heat. I still managed to snap a few pictures.
The north side, shortly after the start.
East side. Just around the bend was a woman holding a cow bell. Fun stuff.
South side. It was raining harder and I was running into the wind at this point, so it was harder to snap a steady picture. You can’t really see it, but the blue smudge towards the middle of the picture indicates the half mile mark.
As you can see, there is NO ONE in sight ahead of me. That’s not ’cause I’m ahead of the pack, oh no. I was firmly towards the back. There were a few stragglers behind me, but really, this chica is SLOW.
According to the race results, I finished in just over 9 minutes, but I have NEVER run that fast, and I have trouble believing I did it today. I’m guessing I was closer to just under 12. Most embarrassing/exhilarating moment in the race was when I crossed the finish line. I know, I know, huge “duh,” but made all that much more of everything because THEY ANNOUNCED MY NAME. Whaaaat?
A couple of minutes after I crossed the finish line, The Boy called to see if I was finished and alive. I was both, and once again, he was very sweet and worried about me. Aw.
I treated myself to a nonfat salted caramel mocha from Starbucks. Ridicu-yum.
I could get used to this.