The 6:35 a.m. outgoing text message to my better half reads: "I just woke up on a jungle gym in the middle of queens." But let me start at the beginning...
* Chocolate soy milk and a banana on the couch while heating my shins....this all after my 3:46 alarm went off
* A yellow school bus ride to "couldn't locate it on the map if I tried/middle of nowhere/even the driver got lost Queens, stuck in front of the only two people on the entire bus that decicded 4 a.m. is the perfect time to share life stories of growing up in the UK and not say, catch an hour nap or sit in silence so the rest of us can sleep like the rest of the damn world (except perhaps in the UK where it actually IS of a normal waking time for a weekend)
* Arriving at the park by 5:20 and having over an hour to kill before the gun goes off
* Deciding that a red and blue jungle gym equipped with several slides, a rope bridge and monkey bars is the perfect place to have a nap. At this point it's still totally dark and there are stars in the sky. I still have no idea where I am in Queens. I fall asleep, dead asleep even though the people around us are laughing at the hilarity of our shared situations, my feet are hanging over the edge of the slide and there's a breeze that keeps my half-exposed feet and legs at a temperature slightly above frozen.
* Failing to wake up when my running partner's cell phone alarm beeps at 6:30.
* Standing in what seemed like a never-ending line to use the Port-o-Potties, still having to check baggage and hearing the starting gun go off while in line (and surprisingly not being stressed or annoyed or even anxious to sprint to the start and catch pace group)
* Enjoying my newly crafted playlist complete with songs that are best sung aloud even if the poor souls around me have to also hear it (hey, whatever helps me get to that finish line)
* Catching up to the Thai man who listens to Asian mediation music on a portable radio sans headphones and carries jingle bells in his hands while running, the same man who last week almost made me lose my cool around mile three....of sixteen
* Crossing the finish line ten measly seconds short of my last half marathon time
* Slipping into yet another deep sleep right after finishing the race like a cat sprawled out in the sun on the pavement, waking up to an empty park and hoping to still make the bus
* Finding out the this said bus has no driver
* Arriving back in Manhattan (at the time I would normally be waking up on a Sunday but today already having been awake for a full 9 hours) wondering if all of this really happened or if it was another one of my pre-race anxiety dreams where I somehow miss the finish line and lose my chip all while being chased by a man with a rifle through the canals in Venice.
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