Vegas, Baby. Vegas.

Well, we leave for Vegas tomorrow, which means that the race is just a couple of days away.  EEKS.  That really freaks me out. I'm really excited about the race, but I'm also really excited to be DONE with the race.  I can't even begin to describe how sick I am of training.  I can't imagine being a professional athlete.  I guarantee I'd get burned out in about a month.  I'm really looking forward to taking a little break from running after this, and then adopting the Liz Lemon workout:

Also, I'm a very anxious person by nature, so I've been stressing out about the little things like when I should eat the day of the race, which socks should I wear, and when I should wake up, and what happens if I oversleep and my whole schedule for that day is thrown off?  It's a little bit ridiculous.  The sad thing is that every time I watch "The Hot Tub" episode of Seinfeld, I legitimately get stressed for Jean-Paul Jean-Paul because I worry about him not making it to his race in time.

 I have a feeling I'm going to be setting no less than 7 alarms.  And it's a night race!  Imagine if it was in the morning.  I can't even think of all the fail safes I'd have to put in place to make sure I got up.  Thinking about it is making me sweaty.  But I am excited about this weekend.  I think the race will be fun, and I plan on planning a game in my head to pass the time where I mentally tally the number of hookers I see.  If it's less than 25, I'm going to be VERY disappointed.  Also, I'm not sure what the setup is for people to watch the race, since it's not like a normal marathon and goes up the Strip, but I really hope there are people lined up cheering for us.   Not only because I'm vain and like to think they're all personally congratulating me for being amazing, but I NEED to hear someone yell "YOU'RE ALL WINNERS!"

I think that could get me through 5 miles alone from the laughter.


I had to suck it up and buy a new ipod tonight so that I could have something to run with for the race.  I know it's strange to have an attachment to my old one, but I did. I totally loved it and I miss it already.  I'm really going to have trouble when I'm an old person if this is how I'm adjusting to change now.  It's entirely possible that while setting up my new ipod. I said,"What is this newfangled thing?  Ugh. Technology.  Harrumph."  Plus my old one had so much storage--30 GB, and the nano I bought today only has 8.  Total downgrade.  Also, most of my music is on my old computer, which is currently in storage somewhere in South Dakota, so I just have to rely on the things I've downloaded to Jacob's computer.  Needless to say, my new iPod is seriously lacking in sweet 90's tunes, J.Lo, and Britney.  Don't worry, I made sure to put some Bell Biv DeVoe on there.  Priorities, am I right? 

This morning was my drug test, and naturally I spent all last night and this morning stressing out about it.  Not because I thought I'd fail it, but because I was getting really anxious about the whole thing.  Remember how I said I was an anxious person?  I convinced myself that I wouldn't have enough pee for the test, so I started chugging water like crazy for the hour before the test.  I had some issues finding the right place to park (cue the sweating), and slipped on the ice a few times (more sweat), and once I got inside the hospital I told myself to relax.  They took me back for the test, and had me fill out some paperwork.  For some reason, I reverted to high school Spanish class because I totally filled out the date portion the wrong way.  I did Day/Month/Year, rather than Month/Day/Year, like is generally practiced in America.  I sweat some more as I crossed out my mistakes.  "Lo siento" I told her, and initialed the errors.  At this point, I realized I was in the chairs they use in the labs to take blood.  I won't go into detail, but I have a bad record with having blood drawn and it's been a few years since I've done it without crying.  I really didn't want my first experience in my future place of employment to involve tears, so I started psyching myself up for it.   Thankfully after a few (stressful) minutes, the lady told me they just needed a urine sample, so she got out the cup, pointed to the minimum line, and sent me off.  In all the anxiety (and sweating) I had completely lost the ability to pee.  I got halfway to the minimum line and was dry as a bone.  Thinking about it now, I don't even know how that is possible, since I'm pretty sure the minimum line was like 1/8 of a cup.  The lady was really nice about it and was like "well...they can probably use that.  They'll just have to tip it."  So....that wasn't great.  But at least my pee wasn't a weird color!


Oh crap.  I totally just realized my library books are going to be due while we're gone.  Looks like I'll owe the city of Dickinson 70 cents.