My Internet has been down (again) or I’d have this up sooner.
A 15-mile run was on my schedule for my long slow distance this weekend, but on Saturday was the Tour des Fleurs 20k at the Dallas Arboretum. Which, if you are interested, is a lovely race. I picked up my race friend Marta, in town from Ohio, who is also running the NYC marathon, and her mom Milka, and we met up with Rich in the parking area, after Rich was kind enough to guide us in when my navigation skills failed to find the entrance.
Marta and Rich are fast. Marta took off like a lightning bolt, but Rich and I ran the first 3 miles together. I know it slowed him down quite a bit, we even had a special moment at mile 2 sharing a cup of Gatorade. Mile 2 will forever be known as my favorite mile. But at mile 3 Rich dropped me like a hot potato and headed for the finish. It was fun, a little hot towards the end, but overall I felt great.
Marta finished in 1:50, Rich in 1:59, and I finished in 2:14. I’m happy with my race and my time – average page was 10:50 per mile – a little faster than I’ve been training. I have a lot of work ahead of me, but it looks like there might be something to this running everyday thing. I’m feeling stronger and I like that feeling.
Rich had to make his daughter’s volleyball game so we never saw him at the finish, but after the race Marta, Milka and I enjoyed some free beer (all the 10k bastards at the hot dogs) and then walked around the arboretum before heading home. You can view more pictures of the race by clicking here.
I wish I could say that was the last beer drinking day of the weekend, but it wasn’t. Oh no, no, no. Nor was it the end of my physical activity for the weekend.
I’m not sure how it happened. Or even why, but a few beers and a couple glasses of wine later and we ended up celebrating our 20k by drinking more beer and more wine (I am totally sober in the next picture. Really.)
And I’m not sure what cowgirl possessed us, but we then rode bulls. Yeah. We rode mechanical bulls. Here’s a picture of Marta demonstrating the proper way to ride a bull.
And here is Runner Susan demonstrating the way NOT to ride a bull. Let’s just say that on your belly is not the way to do it.
Or on your back.
We celebrated our new found respect for cowgirls with matching T-shirts. And more wine.
Somehow, Marta and I always end up in trouble after our races. I’m afraid of what we’ll do in New York. You can view more of our weekend pictures by clicking here.
Keep me away from the martinis, please.