Be Sure to Wear Some Flowers in Your Hair

You know what I hate? When you show up at a party and some bitch is wearing the same exact outfit.


Of course, by hate, I mean love. And by party, I mean half marathon. And by bitch, I mean best friend for almost 21 years. So basically, that whole sentence was completely incorrect. Like a former high school classmate of mine, English isn’t really my strong suit.

This morning, my lifelong friend Meredith and I woke up at the totally normal hour of 3:30 a.m., dressed in matching t-shirts, and made our way from Oakland to downtown San Francisco for our race‘s 5:30 a.m. wave start. Why? Because we are masochistic human beings and sleep deprivation sounded like the best way to spend my West Coast vacation. And because wearing matching outfits makes holding hands as you sprint across the finish line totally acceptable as 26-year-old women.

No? Moving on then.

This morning’s race was my third half marathon to date (and Mere’s ninth. No big deal.) The course took us out and back across the Golden Gate Bridge, making it 1. iconically gorgeous and 2. one hilly mother of a climb. Seriously, why doesn’t anyone ever tell you this city isn’t flat?

Despite our lack of sleep, the mountainous cliffs and my devastating loss of a jolly roger hair ribbon mid-course, we ended up finishing in under 1:55 (still waiting on the official results), meaning a new PR for me! (And just a jaunt in the park – literally – for my girl Meredith over here.)


I was feeling super proud of myself – that is, until a college classmate of mine who I didn’t even know was registered had to go and WIN the full marathon. It’s cool, Nate. I’m sure I taught you everything you know about running and marathons and stuff. If you need help spending your cash prize, I could chip in there, too.

Easing the pain of defeat? The Irish coffee being distributed at the finish line. Whiskey at 7:30 a.m. truly is the San Francisco treat.


We’re now fed, showered and back in bed, storing up enough energy to hit up a brewery tour in Berkley this afternoon. And by brewery, I definitely mean brewery.

Anyone else PR this weekend? Nate and/or Michael Phelps, I’m talking to you.


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