Lessons learned from my first relay race

Thanks to all the amazing people on the Stash Mob team that I ran with this weekend, I am officially a relay race fan.  After running 13.2 miles, getting around 3 hours of sleep, wearing lots of pink, and eating lots of junk food, I feel fabulous.  A good long shower afterward and a few hours in compression socks helped a lot, though.  I was a tad funky after running three times and spending 30 hours in a van with 5 other people.

I felt fairly prepared for my first relay experience, but one can only prepare so much without experience.  I really hope to do one of these again in the future (and hopefully with the same people), so these are the top 10 things that I'll do differently next time:

1.  Bring more beer.  You can never have too much.
2.  Bring less non-running clothing.  I only need one outfit to sleep in and wear in between race legs.  If it's not drenched in sweat, it's good enough.
3.  Bring more bourbon.  After running a leg that is cold and/or wet, bourbon will warm up your insides quite quickly. Also, it's delicious.
4.  Bring a hydration pack, like this one.  My last leg was hot with very little shade, and I ended up borrowing one from one of our fearless team captains (thank goodness they were prepared for things like this). There are no water stops (or toilets, for that matter) on the legs. If you're thirsty or have to poop, well, good luck with that.
5. Don't bring heavy costume hats.  I brought a fabulous fuzzy pink Viking helmet, and it was too warm to wear it.  I hate seeing a good Viking helmet go to waste.
6.  Don't wear my "Show me your boobs" trucker hat inside a church.  Oops.
7.  Bring instant coffee to drink before each leg.  A caffeine boost really makes a difference in my energy level, and it would have been really nice to have when I started my second leg around 3:30 am.  I know I could drink a Red Bull or a 5 Hour Energy, but that stuff is disgusting.  I'd rather run groggy than guzzle that swill.
8.  Leave the camera at home.  I thought I'd want to take some more serious pictures, but digging my camera out of one of my bags was too much of a pain in the ass.  I always had my phone by my side, so laziness won that battle.
9. Bring a spare pair of running shoes.  It started pouring a few hours into the race, and I had visions of having to run in muddy, soaked shoes the entire time.  I didn't have to run in rain and mud, but a couple of our team members did.
10.  Train.  I was very lucky to be asked to take someone's place on the team at the last minute, so training wasn't much of an option this time around. But I have every intention of doing it again - only faster.

All in all, everything was fine, I didn't royally screw anything up, and our team captains were impressively prepared with everything we might need that we didn't have for ourselves, including everything from mustache bracelets to Gatorade.  Because you never really know when you'll have a mustache bracelet emergency.

Our fearless and colorful captains

Yogurt wars

Southerners love sweet tea, fried chicken, BBQ, Krispy Kreme donuts, collard greens, and more fried animal/vegetable/starch.  What southerners apparently do not love is yogurt.  At least, not the yogurt I want to eat.  Because really, if not what I want, clearly it’s not important.

Every time I come back to Alabama, I have issues with pretty much every grocery store I step foot in.  The Grocery Store gods mercilessly mock me down here.  One of my standard snacks (or breakfast, whatever) is plain lowfat soy, goat milk, or Greek yogurt with fresh fruit.  I freakin’ love it.  Give me a mango and slap some yogurt on top, and I’m blissfully happy.  Ok, anything with a mango will make me blissfully happy.  But back to my yogurt  trials and tribulations.  

I think it’s illegal to sell yogurt made from goat milk down here.  I’ve never seen it.  Also, soy yogurt is nearly impossible to find.  I’ve found only one type (at the craptastic Winn Dixie, of all places - go figure), and it’s rather subpar.  The fancy-pants Fresh Market doesn’t carry soy yogurt at all, which, quite frankly, shocked me.

So I’m left with the Greek yogurt, which has popped up everywhere.  I know, it’s probably a fad just like cupcakes are all the rage right now.  But I don’t care.  I drank the Kool-Aid, and I like it.  And I’ll admit, I drank the cupcake Kool-Aid, too.  I LOVE cupcakes. 

After arriving in Alabama this week, the first thing I did was hit up ye olde Winn Dixie.  I braced myself for a lack of... well, everything.  It lived up to its expectation.  I sauntered up to the yogurt case and had two choices for Greek yogurt:  fruit-flavored low-fat yogurt and nonfat plain yogurt.  

I admit, I’m being hyper-picky about my yogurt.  But really, is low-fat plain Greek yogurt that highbrow?  I’m not the chick that goes to Starbucks and orders a grande half-caf soy caramel cinnamon macchiato with an extra shot of espresso and sugar-free vanilla syrup.  I get coffee and drink it black (ok, FINE, I actually get an Americano).  I don’t want hoity-toity yogurt.  I want it plain, and I want a little fat in it.  Is this too much to ask?

I stood in front of that yogurt case for a good 5 minutes with a scowl on my face.  A store employee that seems to be stocking the dairy aisle every time I’m there was 30 feet away.  This is probably the 4th or 5th time he’s seen me loitering in front of the yogurt glaring at the selection.  I could tell he recognized me.  I settled for the nonfat plain Greek yogurt and went home.

Good morning Vietnam!

Ahh, new morning, new country!  Almost.  Dan and I arrived in Hanoi super late on the night of the 25th (or really, the morning of the 26th).  We spend yesterday navigating the maze of the old city of Hanoi, which reminded me a bit of India, except I didn't see any cows and no one tried to take my picture.  Women did keep trying to make me hold baskets of fruit, though...  not sure what the appeal of that is supposed to be.

After a day of walking around and enjoying a beer or 2 on a rooftop deck, Dan and I hopped a night train up to Sapa where we will spend the next 2 days trekking in the mountains and staying overnight with a hill tribe family.  If this morning's sunrise drive from the train station to our starting point is any indication, this is going to be an absolutely gorgeous weekend!  There are mist-topped mountain peaks all around, rice paddies going up and down the slopes, and smiling hill tribe women already hoping to sell us their wares.  Good news, none of them (thus far) have tried to sell me a whip like the hawkers did in Agra.  That's a relief. 

And on a side note, Dan got a great night's sleep on the train, while I listened to a mysterious banging sound from a trail troll or something of the like all night long.  Dan has been instructed to carry my weekend supply of coffee as revenge :). 

So here's to hoping we don't walk off the side of a mountain or plow face-first into a rice paddy.  More in a few days!