Paint It Purple

I could never be a politician.  I think my clinical condition is foot-in-mouth disease.  Oh you know, when you are talking and talking and as you blabber on about things that you really were not wanting to share you hear yourself and yet you do not stop talking.  Hmmmm, that voice sounds like me, facts are accurate, gosh, why is this person divulging all my true colors?  Honesty.   Wait a minute, wait a minute, how can one be honest, and humble, and polite all at the same time? Smile.

I once got the knickname ”Sunny” because I was always beaming with a smile at work.  Beware girl with a grin.  The Santa Barbara News Press Half Marathon is tomorrow.  Mike T from the SBNP called me to ask me some questions.  Kids were whining in the background, dinner was simmering in the pizza box (whole wheat crust, soy cheese, delish!) and I sort of remember what I said to Mike, but not really.

“OK, great Drea,” Mike laughs, “I got the quote.”  Wait, what quote?  What did I say?  I think I said something about “die trying.”  Or was that lie down crying?  I will have to read the paper.  This year the SBHM is the USATF SoCal Half Marathon Championships and I am assuming it is going to be a very challenging race.  I want to do my best.  Oh, that is gonna hurt.

Thursday I picked up my race packet from the SBRunning Co downtown.  Joe was there handing out the goods with Robin.  I got my packet and handed it over to Robin to test my chip.

“Number 2!” Robin says.  Number 2 what?  Race bib number 2?  I chuckled in nervous laughter.  “What time you shooting for Drea?” Robin asked.  Big smile.

“1:30?” Claire asked.  Big smile.  “Faster?” she said.  Smile.

All this smiling and I almost forgot to ask, “Who gets number 1?”

“Number 1, Chrystee Bradley!” Robin announced.  Oh little perk is gonna love that.  Well, Chrystee if this was an Austin Powers movie, you definitely got the better number sister!  Best paint those finger nails purple!

Crinkled for Luck a la AT

This is my second time to receive a single digit number.  The first time was a decade ago in the Austin Motorola Marathon.  Race Director John Connelly was my friend and dished me out I think lucky number 7.  I loved my little number until actual race day.  I lined up with the elites.

“Um,” I pondered, “Why would you gals do short sprints on the pavement before we run 26.2 miles?”  The act of striding baffled me.  Oh this cannot be good.  And it was not.  By mile 1, I could no longer see the single digit runners and the tide quickly swallowed me up in all the four digit regular runners.  I longed for three more digits.  “GIVE ME YOUR DIGITS!” 

“Yeah number 7!” Some one politely cheered.  It felt like I had a scarlet letter branded to my imposter chest.  No matter than no one else cared at all or even understood the significance (at least that is what I tell myself), I wanted that number off.  Thirty minutes after all the other single digit gals finished, I surged the line.  OK, OK, crept the line.

This time I am gonna do number 2 justice!  Wait a minute, wait a minute, what does that mean, number 2?  Number 2.  Hee hee hee.  Hey thanks a lot for giving me number 2!  Maybe I talk about “issues” too much on this blog.  Smile!

Just kidding.  Number 2 rules, right Mr. Powers?

~ by drea on November 6, 2009.