I ran my first race, and I won 564th place

There were 1,138 runners in the half marathon.  Since that is such a large amount of people and it’s hard to fathom, I’m just going to divide that into three groups.  Being that I placed in the middle group, I’m just going to say that I won second place, and as you may know from reading Big Dog T-shirts, second place is merely the first loser.  So I want to write about this weekend when I was crowned the first loser. 

I want to preface this by saying that this year started off with me being seriously unwell, but since I already started writing about this weekend, I wouldn’t exactly be prefacing here.  In any order, I must divulge a little bit of gossip about myself.  I named this website “Stupeh” because I knew that I was being a moron.  I was in an unhealthy relationship, smoking, drinking and having a party animal time.  I usually skipped the party, though and went straight to animal.  Little did I know things were about to get different. I was about to transform into a running and clean-air breathing machine.  I didn’t even realize that I was destroying myself until I stopped doing it and started building myself back up again…you know…growing new parts. You know.  Looking back at this picture of me smoking and texting, I can see how unhealthy I was because my gut protrudes enough to be a little ash-shelf in case some of what I didn’t suck into my lungs fell off of the tip of my cigarette. 

Everything that was wrong with this is now wrong with someone else. Stupeh now has an undisclosed amount of legs.

What a gross. So despite this awful photo, I ended the year as the first loser in a 13 mile race.

The race itself was great.  It was cold and overcast and after six miles I was shocked that I had already run six miles.  Unfortunately my big race-day fear was realized when I had to stop and make use of the port-a-potty at mile 4.  I only mention this because I want the world to know that I maybe could have won the gold.  Maybe you have a suggestion for how to make sure you’ve evacuated before a race.  I mean, you’re supposed to carb it up the night before, so I’m at a loss here because excersize gets you going in the morning…if you know what I mean.  Sexy wink.  Port-a-potty.  That was my biggest setback during this race.  

My second biggest setback was the  discomfort and fumbling of my fuelbelt.  I used it during training because I needed it, and it’s wonderful.  Do you remember back in May when I had to walk to my daughter’s school and steal her juice box because I had outrun my fuel?  Well, this race was like the opposite of that…or maybe the sideways of that?  I discovered while running that I didn’t need the extra weight of my Camelbak because running the course was like running alongside a bunch of my daughter’s schools, but in this sideways world the school came to my side to offer me water instead of me having to bust onto campus and highjack it, plus all the little children along the course cheered me on like an 80s movie hero.  Well duh, it’s not every day you see a second place runner whiz by on such a short set of legs. 

Set. 

If I say I have a set of legs does that imply that I have more than two?  Why wouldn’t I say a pair?  I don’t know. 

You decide.