St. Michael's, MD

Well, I promised in my last post that this one would be a bitchfest about DC....very strangely, the mysterious gods of the WMATA have aligned these past few weeks, and I haven't had a commuter horror story to share. So a post about how nice it was to NOT be in DC will have to suffice. I'm sure my 3 readers won't complain.

My friend Kelli is moving to Abu Dhabi in early December with her husband and two small boys - he's on his first post with the Foreign Service, so they're getting ready to dive into a completely new chapter of their lives. On the one hand, Kelli's husband has wanted to go into the Foreign Service for as long as I've known him (about 8 years); on the other hand, I'll definitely miss Kelli. We shared an office in my first non-Georgetown job post-college, slaving away as interns, making roughly $0.42/hour for the "honor" of saying we worked for USAID. We, along with Katie A., bonded that year over happy hours, a shared lack of anything resembling a real salary, and really stinky brie, and we haven't look back over the ensuing 8 years. So it's bittersweet to see them leave, but above all, I want them to be happy. SO as a final "hurrah" for Kelli, we drove up to St. Michael's, MD for a girls' night. Kelli, Katie (aka "hipster Katie" or "nose-ring Katie") and Mela met one of Kelli's friends from Delaware at a winery on Friday afternoon. No sense wasting time with trivial matters like dropping our stuff off at the hotel. I was the designated driver, a skill I'm seriously considering turning into a second career, and the other four girls plowed through 10 wines while I enjoyed the complimentary cheese and olive tray. And the winery's mascot, a one-year old rescue dog whose antics reminded me of certain attention-seeking labs I know...

We meandered from the winery to dinner at a seafood/steak restaurant on the main dock (where, of course, the woman from the winery's brother worked - gotta love small towns), where I convinced everyone that ordering hush puppies in addition to nice seafood dishes was a good idea, and we proceeded to stuff our faces. The food was decent, though I did notice as we sat down that the average age in the dining room was somewhere close to 80. Nothing wrong with that.

We made our way back to our hotel - no expense spared there, we went with the local Best Western - where we were in bed by 12:00am. Back in the day, we all could stay up until 3-4 in the morning and make it to work the next morning, no problem. Guess we're getting old, but we were all done by midnight. The next morning I was, of course, the first up, going for a nice run through town. I stopped at the ambitiously named "coffee shop" at the hotel on my way back to pick up some coffees from the continental breakfast bar...next time I'm in a small town during a waterfowl festival, remind me to skip the free breakfasts. A depressing scene, for sure, but I managed to find a small market next door where I was able to get my coffee and pastry fix.

We had to be back in DC by early afternoon, so we just wandered through town, taking in the shops and stopping for brunch. It was a gorgeous day - about 65 and sunny - and DC seemed very, very far away. Driving back into Saturday afternoon traffic on Florida Ave was a small punch in the face, and the 30 minutes it took us to get from the entrance to Georgetown campus to Key Bridge was another reminder that we weren't in Kansas anymore (yes, I just said that)...but it was fantastic to get away for even 24 hours.

I've decided that, as long as I call the metro DC area my home, I need to take advantage more of the surrounding areas with day trips. I thoroughly enjoyed everything about venturing into Maryland, even stopping at a Wawa gas station to pick up sandwiches for lunch. The Midwest girl in me couldn't help but feel a bit at home with the strip malls, Dairy Queens, and random gas stations/hotels/outlet malls, and the air just felt, well, less suffocating. So for anyone who's ever suffered from DC-anxiety, get out, go get yourself a blizzard at a DQ 2 hours from the city. Go take random pictures with fake geese before spending the night at a hotel straight out of the 1950's. It's worth it.

Baltimore Half-Marathon

With encouragement from my blogging brother, I thought it was about time I started a blog, too. Of course, I don't have any of the "top 5" reasons to start a blog (children, pets, loads of travel, an interesting job, or extreme self-love), but there are occasionally interesting things that happen to me. Or, at worst, I can always just use this as a place to vent about how crappy DC makes my life sometimes. That subject alone could fuel 100 blogs (and, let's face it, probably does.

I've tried journals at various stages in my life and have never gotten that off the ground, but this could be exactly the forum I need to showcase my exemplary writing skills and acerbic wit. OR at least somewhat better than average writing skills and occasional wit. But I digress.

I thought I'd start with a blog about one of the few interesting aspects of my life: running. As anyone close to me can tell you, I am a pretty avid runner. There are many people who run for various reasons - weight loss, stress release, lack of motivation and/or funds to join a gym. I think it's fantastic that so many people have gotten into running for its various life-improving aspects. Let's be clear about one thing, though. I'm not one of those people. Sure, it's wonderful that running keeps me slim (let's face it, Chubs makes frequent enough appearances that I could never be described as a "dieter"), it is my main form of stress release, and, though I belong to a gym, I far prefer pounding the pavement of the open road to going nowhere on machines at the gym. No, I. Am. A. Runner. I'm one of those crazy people who has already been up for 3 hours and logged 10 miles by the time they get to the office. But it's the one thing I'm naturally good at, and it truly makes me a happier person to be able to run. So that's my spiel.

Anyway, I ran in the Baltimore half-marathon last Saturday when my dad was in town. I'd never actually done a half-marathon before - sure, I've done three marathons, but a half-marathon? Hadn't been on my laundry list yet. Now that I've done one, I'm pretty well hooked. That doesn't mean I plan on signing up for every half-marathon I can find. For, despite my pure love of running, I don't actually race that often. But it was the perfect length for me - not so long that I got bored (and yes, boredom is my main enemy during marathons), but long enough that I really felt a sense of accomplishment when I ran across the finish line.

I've long thought Baltimore was a fairly ugly - or, at best, nondescript - city, without much to offer. Now, I spent much of my childhood in Topeka, Kansas, so the bar is set pretty high for ugliness. I thought this race might give me a glimpse into a kinder, gentler Baltimore. Mile 5 of the race. Running up a street on which every single house has at least 2 boarded up windows and the only fans are homeless men who smell faintly of urine. Mile 7 of the race: running down a street on which every house is completely boarded up and the only fans are homeless, toothless women. Mile 10 of the race: running down a somewhat decent looking street, until I notice that there is nobody out. I understand there is a race going on, but literally not a sign of life in any of the houses for at least 3/4 of a mile. Who knows, though, maybe this spurred me on faster, as I crossed the finish line in a respectable 1:33. I was shooting for 1:25, but it was windy and I started pretty far back, so I'll cut myself some slack.

So it wasn't the ideal city in which to run my first half-marathon - the race itself was disorganized to the point of absurdity, they still had traffic going through some parts of the race, and the participant shirts were neon orange (though, because they are Under Armour shirts, which cost $30+ each, I'm not complaining too much about that). BUT it was still an enjoyable experience, with decent weather, my boisterous dad cheering me on, and plenty of bananas and beer at the finish line. So I think I'll give Baltimore a pass. I won't be spending my weekends there, but I'd do the Baltimore Running Festival again.

I'll add photos later, but a chance for my avid reader. Note: Reader, not Readers. Which race next?
http://www.hotchocolate15k.com/dc/
I love chocolate as much or more than the average person, but I'm also not really a gimicky racer. BUT 15k in December? The challenge of that might just be worth it. Or...
http://www.pvtc.org/welcome#caper
The day before my birthday, a 10k. 10k is generally not a race I am pulled to, but perhaps, on the eve of my 31st birthday (yikes!), a chance to give my aging body a big ol' middle finger.

I could really do both, but December's not a terribly fun month to run and, as I said before, I don't race that often.

So, signing off for now. I'm not sure if this was interesting or just rambling, but you asked for it! :)

And I promise, next post will be a bitchfest against DC.