So, I’m sitting here in the wee hours jacked up on matcha (which I drank 12 hours ago) and one mug of black tea and thinking about my upcoming trip to Las Vegas.
I started stalking the weather forecast a week before the 15 day extended outlook even covered race weekend. So that’s like 3 weeks before the race. It makes no sense, and makes no difference, but I do it anyway. The weather will be a pleasant near-70° (21C) during the day, and a cool 50° (10C) during the overnights. I’ll have to bring a sweater. I don’t know if I can stand it! O, did I mention there was 0% chance of rain, let alone snow?! I know, right? And did I mention it rained here last week, to the tune of 3.5″ (89mm)? And that it snowed this week, and that it’s cloudy, and grey and raining this very minute? I think I should mention that, ’cause it’s pretty important — to me.
I’m heading out for Rock ‘n Roll Las Vegas, which is on the 12th. The race is promoted as “Run the Strip at Night.” And I thought we’d be running *at night.* Silly me. While technically the sun will have set just before gun time, and it will be very dark by the time I finish, it’s still in the afternoon. I mean, the-seniors-will-just-be-getting-to-the-buffet-for-early-supper “afternoon.” Sunset is about 4:25pm local time that day. Race start is 4:30pm. Backtracking, “gun time” was prob’ly a poor choice of words. Sorry. But that is what all the records and results officials call it.
Anyhoo, where were we? O, sunset, right. Vegas is on the eastern edge of the Pacific Time Zone; that explains the strangely, weirdly, horrible lack of daylight. Chances are I may see a sunrise or two, which are spectacular, by the by. I’m not planning any all-night gambling, dancing, karaoke “What Happens in Vegas” binges. I live in the Eastern Time Zone, so 9:00am here is 6:00am there — prime sunrise viewing! I was there in October, 2001, about a month after the twin towers fell, and the country was still all on edge. I’m not normally an early morning person, but that whole trip I woke up really early every morning. And each day the sun would come up over the mountains way off in the distance. The sky burst into the most spectacular oranges, reds and yellows. It felt like a light show display for just me. I’d watch the sky get lighter, and just after the sun cleared the top of the mountains I’d close the curtains. And I would immediately look back out again. I didn’t want to wake my husband with the brightness, but I couldn’t not watch.
Okay, well that was a tangent. This is what happens to my brain on caffeine.
But back to the race, and the weekend. My almost-23 year old daughter is coming, and two other young ladies, one of whom I have not met yet. We four are sharing a single hotel room for 4 nights. I do not know how all that luggage will fit. In my head I’ve started a packing list. That’s also why I stalk the weather, so I know what to find and wash before it’s too late to bring it. I’ve decided what shoes to bring. And that’s it so far. I have 5 days to figure the rest out; day 6 is for actual packing. O yeah, I know what I’ll wear for the race depending on how cool it gets once the sun goes down. Okay, I know what brand of clothes I will wear; exact outfits …welllll. (Shameless plug for Skirt Sports. I’m an Ambassador. FCC rules: #promo #ad)
Filling the rest of our days and nights is up for discussion. We hope to see the Las Vegas Golden Knights play. The only tickets left are $300 each. Not gonna happen. We may see a show “as long as it doesn’t break the bank,” as one of the girls said. I’m sure we will find out if the rumors that Taco Bell serves alcohol are true or not. Alcohol-infused Baja Blast, anyone? The thought makes me queasy. Maybe we’ll see one of the six iterations of Cirque du Soleil shows. I will lose a little money to the slots, of that I’m pretty sure. I have a (very low) daily budget.
We’re all doing the half marathon. This will be state #8, (#9 if you count Washington DC) in my quest for 50 States. My updated race counts should make this half #30. I had been guessing I was already at 30-something. (Scratches head about how I miscounted.) I’d love a medal rack for those specific medals, or all of them, actually. Right now most of them are in a tangle in a shoe box, on the floor of my bedroom. The rest hang from a tiltable full length mirror. There will be another race bib to add to the stack once I get back home. Do you keep your race bibs? Mine are on an un-bent jumbo paperclip. Very high tech, huh.
I’ve been looking forward to this weekend away for several months. It’s almost here. And in a flash it will be past. Then I can start looking forward to 2018 when I get to rebuild my running from the ground up. Injuries, humbug. I have two races inked in, and I am a legacy runner for both. One is smack in the middle of the Michigan winter; the other I have the privilege of being a Pacer for (for the 4th time) a female-only race that celebrates Title IX.
Thanks for hanging around for my rambling. I’ll share pictures after I get back. One might be a sunrise.
Thick Chicks Run, Too 