On the Plus Side

I am on day #2 of no fever, which means I am writing from the Mandolin instead of wasting away in bed, a much appreciated change of scenery obviously.  I must admit I am pretty pleased with the tenacity of the flu I had, I mean go big or go home is definitely my motto with being sick (hence the liking of fevers in general), and a fever that lasts for five days definitely fits this description.  Really turned the whole "to run or not to run" dilemma on its head (aka "to go to urgent care, or not to go to urgent care").  Ultimately, my bank account and all those reading this will be happy to know that my ferocious immune system didnt need help from the white coats to heal itself.  On a not too distant sidenote, however, Julia's mom is currently in the hospital with the flu and pneumonia.  According to her boyfriend, they have not ruled out swine flu in her case, so she is quarantined and there are huge warning signs surrounding her room.  Turns out it is most likely her that got me sick, not her daughter.  Which is a plus seeing as how I am quite a fan of the kid her genetic material helped produced, but not such a huge fan of her in general.  Not that that means I'd wish for her to be the first in WA diagnosed with swine flu, mind you.  

On the plus side of all this sickiness, I felt well enough to walk from my apt down to the waterfront yesterday morning to see the marathoners run by.  The Tacoma Marathon can be pretty lonely, so I was happy to be at least one token of inspiration, although watching was more of a selfish act than anything.  Nothing like seeing all those people out there, running with terrible form, obvious limps and the weirdest combination of outfits/survival suits/gel-carrying fanny packs to remind me why I love the sport.  Plus, I think running may be one of the only sports where the participants, not all, but a fair amount, actually take the time to say "thanks for coming out".  At first I was just cheering, but I soon learned that the "good job, looking good" cheer in combination with the hearty clap has an about 90% return rate on some form of acknowledgment of gratitude, so it soon became a constant clapping/shouting affair.  Amounted to more strenuous activity than I'd had combined since Tuesday I believe.  

Another plus to this version of TCM participation was the sighting of my potential future husband.  About six or seven runners into the full marathon there he was, tall, tan, perfectly fit and obviously, kicking butt.  Somehow I didnt see his face, but from the back he was perfect, as was the fact that he had friends that had ridden bikes and were shouting to put my clap/cheer combo to shame from way up on the hill looking over Ruston Way.  That's how I learned his name was Weston, and when he shouted something back to them all enthusiastically, that is when I decided that clearly his personality probably went along with his good looks.  I then called Katie, waking her up even though I knew she wasnt there with me due to the early hour of the event, to inform her we would be needing to watch the race from an additional location in order to see this man again.  Like a champ, a true friend, and anyone who is atypically inspired by endurance sporting events, she was on board.  We watched from the finish line, because by the time I finished cheering on one of my team in training coaches in the half marathon, Speedy McHandsome was approaching the finish.  I wasn't as impressed by him from the front, but one could argue that anyone at the end of a 26 mile race that looks super hot probably was more concerned with their appearance throughout the race than the sport, which therefore makes said hotness unimportant.  All I know is he crossed the line in the top 10, and he's 29 and from Lakewood.  So even though we're probably soulmates, that's the end of that.  

Plus number three of the watching and not participating was getting to see the kids marathon cross the finish.  Beyond adorable.  My favorite was the most obese of kids of course.  There are some fat kids that just gross me out, but others are just fucking cute, and he was.  Rotund belly stretching the front of his shirt, mouth open gasping for air, narrowly missing the giant orange cones that divided the finish line into two lanes as he attempted to go around two half marathoners that were walking through the chute at the same time....Favorite.  

The final plus is that I've decided that I will be entering more, not less, running events in the next year.  Yesterday they made an announcement about there being a 79yr old on the course who was running his 445th marathon.  While I dont KNOW know, I saw this man, instinctively I know he was one of the early starters that was literally running in the "im a little teapot" position and who told me, as he ran past and I cheered, "oh, I'm not wearing my glasses, I thought you were a pole".  Another favorite, and definitely a new hero.  

If I'm gonna get anywhere close to 445 runs into this lifetime, I've got to step it up.  And now I'm off to CHWS for the final check-up, to make sure I can do just that.