Chillin' in Maine

Months and months and months ago, in November or something, Nitsirk said to me, "Hey, if you ever come up to Maine, we should run a race together." I'm sure she wasn't really serious. I'm sure she didn't really want me turning up way up there in her peaceful northern hideaway... but never being one to give up an idea once someone's put it in my head, I found the next race in Maine longer than a 5k. That race happened to be the Mid-Winter 10 Mile Classic, on February 3, which seemed impossibly far into the future at the time. When I ran to Nitsirk gushing that I'd found a race she did her best to remind me that this was a February race... in MAINE... out side. But trying to dissuade me is like trying to get gum out of a 4-year-old's hair without a pair of scissors: impossible. And I can peer pressure like none other, so after calling her a chicken, Nitsirk was in, as was Dr. Nick, Mindy, and the bonus of finding a new friend in Iron Matron. I was so excited!

And then I got sick, and nothing was very exciting anymore.

By the time that it came time to make good on my threats to Nitsirk to actually make her shed her post-iron lethargy and run 10 miles all in one day, I was less than thrilled with the idea myself. I had gotten over the most severe symptoms of the flu, but I still had a nasty, hacking cough that was hard to stop once it got started. I hadn't worked out at all in over a week, and it was anyone's guess what running would do, let alone doing so freezing temperatures. Luckily, the forecast was predicting highs in the high 30's, so I didn't have to bear a real Maine winter's day.

Our little band of bloggers arranged to meet in front of the entrance to the cafeteria, and (believe it or not) I was the first to show up! I was wearing my supersexy Bob Rocks t-shirt and feeling like a bit of a tool. ( Bob won this honor by being the lucky donor who put me over the $500 mark in my AIDS LifeCycle fundraiser ). I put on my best "recognize me!" face, which is much like the face I used to put on at 8th grade dances when I walk around alone, hoping that being alone would increase the chances of a boy asking me to dance (it rarely worked). I kept looking for people staring at me, but everyone was staring at me in my supersexy Bob Rocks t-shirt. Finally someone had the guts to admit she knew me and I heard over my shoulder, "You really did wear a shirt that says Bob Rocks!" It was Iron Matron who spotted me first. I tried to sputter out an introduction and tell her how excited I was to have met a fellow blogger in the area through the coughs, but I think I only succeeded in alarming the mom in her. "Are you going to be alright?!" she asked.
"Psssh, yeah, s--" cough cough "su-cough-re." Who knew if I was going to be alright. I had no idea. "It's not as bad..." cough cough, sour face"...as it looks."

Next Mindy turned up and after some chit-chatting Iron Matron went off to warm up like the champ that she is and Mindy was left alone with me. I was doing a pretty bad job of trying to swallow my coughs and not look sick, but I wanted so badly for the new kids to like me! I didn't want to look like a lame horse! While waiting for Nitsirk to show up, we shot some pictures of my fabulous Bob Rocks t-shirt and I ran off to dump our stuff in the car while Mindy tried to spot Nitsirk who was "dressed in black with an Under Armour hat." Half the women in the room matched that description.
By the time I got back, Nitsirk had surfaced with Dr. Nick and we went out to the start line. In person Dr. Nick was not very much like what I pictured. He wasn't yellow at all, and when Nitsirk introduced him he didn't even say "HI, EVERY-BO-DY!" Meeting famous people in person is so disappointing!

Dr. Nick placed himself around the front of the pack, while Mindy, Nitsirk and I pushed our way to the back. "Do you think we're back far enough yet," asked Nitsirk. "Or do you think maybe we should be standing behind that really pregnant lady?" I looked over, and sure enough, there was a really pregnant lady. I mean, not really, really pregnant, but way more pregnant than anyone else in the crowd. Just before the start some girl tapped me on the shoulder, "I love your shirt, that is so cool!" And she was serious. Suddenly I felt much better. I hope that Bobby gets some new donations out of the deal, or at very least some new readers.

Right about here is where we met up with a fourth friend. Let's call this friend... Blair. A lot of people get confused and think we are the same person, we're not. As soon as the (silent and invisible) gun went off, I took off at 5 minute mile pace and ran a perfect race. I won. Overall. Blair, however, stayed behind to keep Nitsirk and Mindy company. Unlike me, Blair is a filthy slob and has no shame. Blair just happened to have the same post-flu symptoms as me, but do not be confused, Blair is NOT me. I was running 5 minute miles, remember? I set a course record.
Blair ran along with Nitsirk and Mindy chit-chatting and trying not to cough too, too much. Blair took advantage of the experience to pick Nitsirk's brain about ironman, which both exilirated and scared the living daylights out of her. (Blair's doing an ironman too, by the way, but this is just a coincidence). Blair also picked up some tid-bits about how other people are successful in combining relationships and training. She later relayed this tip to me, "don't ever date a lazy-ass co-dependent egomaniac again."
Pretty quickly, Blair figured out that the cough was not the only lingering part of the flu. She felt like her batteries were low, like she was running through water, like her body was made of lead... any simile for shitty running - Blair felt like that. Like me, Blair always runs with a water bottle, but Mindy and Nitsirk stopped at the first aid station at mile 2.5, and once Blair started walking she burst into a fit of coughing that didn't go away even when she started running again. She took a sip of Accelerade and a cough surprised her and she sprayed it out all over the road in front of her. The coughs were so violent and racked Blair's innards so much that it was like squeezing a mustard packet and to her horror, Blair felt a drip escape. See, I told you Blair was a slob, I'm so glad I'm not her.
Blair was very happy to have Mindy and Nitsirk around to distract her, because she was unpleasantly surprised with all the rolling hills on this course. "We're going to make a left and then go up a hill," warned Mindy.
A minute or two later, Blair wheezed a sigh of relief. "Was that the hill?" she asked.
"Nice try," said Mindy. Blair tried desperately to forget that she was running and focus on the conversation. But since she was sucking air like an asthmatic fat kid in gym class she just imagined what she would say if she were able to participate in the conversation. Her lungs felt like she was breathing through a cotton swab. She coughed to try to move the blockage, but that turned into another fit of coughing and leaking. Blair was very happy she was wearing the over-sized Rob Rocks t-shirt (that looked much like, but not the same as my Bob Rocks t-shirt) that hung well below her butt and hid her crotch from view.
"You're such a trooper," said Mindy.
"Aw, it's nothing. I feel fine," choked Blair, who likes to lie and pretend she's stronger than she really is.

"Oh my gosh, we're at mile 7 already!" said Nitsirk. "I feel better now than I did when we started the race!"
"I'm hungry," said Blair, who felt about 10 times shittier than she did at the beginning of the race. It felt like she was running with a 20-pound backpack.
At the final aid station around mile 8 Mindy and Nitsirk started running again and Blair's whole body turned to stone. "You know what, you guys go ahead," said Blair and stopped to die for a few minutes. Walking set her to coughing so hard that it wouldn't have taken too much exaggeration to puke at the side of the road. She kept waiting for someone to come by and ask her if she was okay, but no one did. She was fine, by the way. Thanks for asking, JERKS! As she checked for the bajillionth time to make sure her t-shirt was hanging down low enough, she looked off to one side (as you do when adjusting anything in the crotch department) and noticed that she was walking past a graveyard. Oh great, she thought. This way when I keel over and die they'll only have to kick me off the shoulder of the road and I'll just roll the rest of the way. That way I won't inconvenience anyone.

Surprisingly, the last 2 miles went quickly. She passed a stuffed moose holding a sign that said "Free pizza one mile!" and before she knew it she was running back down the long high school driveway. As Blair was running along the cone-lined driveway she saw a volunteer topple over onto his ass. It wasn't clear if he had stepped backwards and tripped over a cone, or if the car that was stopped for him had tapped him, but he was just sitting there and people from all around were running to help him. Blair thought of stopping, but she didn't know what she was supposed to do. Plus, she just wanted this to be over, someone else would help him. Blair is a jerk, I would have stopped and made sure he was okay. Blair crossed the finish line in just under 1:40. "Go me!" said Blair as she crossed, because she was pretty proud of herself for finishing, despite feeling so shitty. She was a trooper, Mindy said so! Mindy, Nitsirk, Dr. Nick, Mr. Mindy, and I were kind enough to wait for Blair to finish, and then we all went inside to refuel (except Blair, who disappeared). Inside we met Maine Runner and another Maine blogger, who, I am so sorry but I missed his blog name.

Afterwards Nitsirk and Dr. Nick went off to an open house and I went home with Mindy and Mr. Mindy to grab a shower before brunch. While Mindy was showering I got to speak to Mr. Mindy, who is a surfer. In Maine. But surely, he doesn't really go surfing in Maine, right? Yes he does! Year round! I was floored. I spent most of the time Mindy was in the shower trying to get my mind around surfing in 20-degree weather on a windy day. I am officially never, ever allowed to brag about swimming without a wetsuit again.

We then had a delicious and leisurly brunch, followed by a 4-minute guided tour of Portland, and a quick drive by the beach, because I had to see it to believe it. Lo and behold, there were seven surfers out in the ocean at that very moment. In Maine. Given, it was a warm day, about 34 degrees...