Back when my parents told me they were coming to visit this week, I thought, HMMMM how can I entertain my parents while still feeding my spoiled-only-child narcissism??? Register for a race where everyone can stand around and watch ME, of course!
This was my first trail run, and it was a great, great race. Proceeds went to a memorial fund for local police officers killed in the line of duty, and the run was to honor their memory. It was so wonderfully organized, by amazingly nice volunteers. At Soldier Field, I came in behind this guy who took the time to thank the volunteers, so I tried to follow his lead and thank all the volunteers I came across today.
My parents and I got a tiny bit lost driving to the Forest Preserve, until I saw a 26.2 bumper sticker and yelled “Follow the marathoner!” Sure enough, that lead us to the Swallow Cliff Woods and I immediately had an “OH SHIT WTF” moment upon seeing this:
(Note the 26.2 sticker that we followed!) As it turns out, we didn’t have to climb up this monstrosity, but there were some non-racers walking up the stairs on the left. Voluntarily. WHY????
Even with my starting out too fast, I feel like a billion people passed me the first 1/2 mile…and I didn’t catch up with ANY of them later on. Talk about being left in the dust. I lost track of the number of hills we climbed – although they weren’t gargantuan by any means, they were plentiful and holy-mother-of-god STEEP. This was not a fast course for PRs, and once I realized that, I paced myself a little better. Meanwhile, my shins and Achilles, unfamiliar with the dips and climbs, were tight the first two miles, and then after that, I found myself pretty much running alone as the local “elites” were too far out ahead of me, and everyone else was far enough behind me I couldn’t hear anything. I always forget just how dreadfully long a mile can be until I’m racing hard.
Mile 4 – whose idea was it to place the port-a-potty WAYYYY off course????? A volunteer cop tried to direct me back on course, and I yelled back at him, “Going for the POTTY!” Of course, this was when EVERYONE ELSE ran past. Go figure.
I absolutely loved running in the woods, amongst the trees. I loved jumping past the mud holes and hearing the twigs crack under my step. I set my sights on a few women in front of me (Must place in AG! Must place in AG!) and at Mile 5, fired up my Last Mile! Kick, leaving 3 of them behind me as I powered up the last few hills. Clock time said 53:40 as I crossed the finish line.
Yup, I got 2nd in my AG! My mom is convinced I would’ve gotten first if I hadn’t made a pitstop, and gave me the valuable advice that I should “practice not pooping when [I] run.” Um…thanks. Very useful, mom. My parents are insane with the picture-taking. There are about a thousand shots of me warming up, me waiting for the gun, me drinking water, me taking my socks off to massage my arches (damn PF!). I think this picture tells of the ridiculousness perfectly:
Um…what? What’s going on here? Why do we have a picture of me looking at pictures while my dad touches my head?
I had a moment where I was sitting there stretching, and they were blasting “Hey There Delilah” from the speakers. I thought about Delilah DiCrescenzo, the song’s namesake steeplechaser, and the upcoming Track and Field Olympic Trials, and the sport of running, and how privileged I felt to be able to run and race on a beautiful day like today, and how overwhelmingly honored I was to be a runner and to be part of it all. Runners, we are lucky, lucky mofos.
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Fiancee and I took my parents to Fuji Japanese Steak House, a local hibachi restaurant nearby. If you’re not familiar with hibachi, it’s where they prepare your food in front of you, with knife-flipping and flames and all sorts of culinary acrobatics. With hibachi, you risk sacrificing taste for show, but the food was absolutely delicious here.
Onion ring volcano!
One thing I miss about being on my own is mom’s home cooking. I will never come close to my mom’s level of skill in the kitchen, and her authentic Chinese food. Every time she comes, I force her into the kitchen to make meals for me like the good considerate daughter I am.
Mapo tofu (a spicy Szechuan dish with ground pork), braised eggplant, and crispy shrimp.
Fiancee, who has adamantly refused to eat tofu in the past, ate spoonful after spoonful of this dish.
The next day, we got both families together and had a little engagement luncheon at 94 West so everyone could meet. Everyone got on fantastically…whew.
Sweet potato fries – my favorite!
Pasta mardi gras – with Andouille sausage, shrimp, and crawfish, in a spicy tomato cream broth. Can you tell I like things hot hot hot? More food photos to come for sure – both my mom and dad are enslaved in my kitchen right now, making Chinese wraps for dinner.
