day 1: arrival
greetings from minnesota!
i've always said that the only thing tougher than getting to the finish line of a marathon is getting to the starting line. in many ways, the fact that i'm here today is a giant relief. the training's done, i'm not sick, and everything's going well.
the austin international airport, however, tried to do its part in keeping me from achieving this intermediary goal. sure enough, my backpack with 100% of my running gear for the weekend gets picked for an all out security screening. ah, nothing like seeing all of the gear that you're dependent upon for the big run be strewn across a table, hoping that the government employee puts it all back.
i was certainly humored at the fact that in this backpack i put a quart-sized ziploc bag of gatorade, that when in the hands of airport security, well... it pretty much looks like a half-kilo of cocaine. boy, he took a long hard look at it. opened it, sniffed it. asked me: "uh... is this soap?" i just briefly replied "no, it's gatorade" and patiently stood there. in my mind, i was thinking "do ya see all the running crap in my backpack? my runtex t-shirt? my freakishly thin forearms? c'mon pal... i appreciate what you're doing and all, but just let me and my half-kilo through."
lars picked me up at the airport and we had dinner at his place. the house that he rents is gorgeous, a two-story townhouse that's about 100 years old. 100 year old wood paneling everywhere: walls, ceilings. ceramic toilet paper holders, sunporches. creaky floorboards. love it. a nice change of pace from the mcmansions of austin.
the air feels great here... i suspect that it's in the 50s or so right now. sounds like good sleeping weather to me. on that note, i'll sign off for now.
i've always said that the only thing tougher than getting to the finish line of a marathon is getting to the starting line. in many ways, the fact that i'm here today is a giant relief. the training's done, i'm not sick, and everything's going well.
the austin international airport, however, tried to do its part in keeping me from achieving this intermediary goal. sure enough, my backpack with 100% of my running gear for the weekend gets picked for an all out security screening. ah, nothing like seeing all of the gear that you're dependent upon for the big run be strewn across a table, hoping that the government employee puts it all back.
i was certainly humored at the fact that in this backpack i put a quart-sized ziploc bag of gatorade, that when in the hands of airport security, well... it pretty much looks like a half-kilo of cocaine. boy, he took a long hard look at it. opened it, sniffed it. asked me: "uh... is this soap?" i just briefly replied "no, it's gatorade" and patiently stood there. in my mind, i was thinking "do ya see all the running crap in my backpack? my runtex t-shirt? my freakishly thin forearms? c'mon pal... i appreciate what you're doing and all, but just let me and my half-kilo through."
lars picked me up at the airport and we had dinner at his place. the house that he rents is gorgeous, a two-story townhouse that's about 100 years old. 100 year old wood paneling everywhere: walls, ceilings. ceramic toilet paper holders, sunporches. creaky floorboards. love it. a nice change of pace from the mcmansions of austin.
the air feels great here... i suspect that it's in the 50s or so right now. sounds like good sleeping weather to me. on that note, i'll sign off for now.
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