...is taking on a whole new meaning. Mike and I signed up for a half-marathon. We'll be running in the Mayor's Marathon in Anchorage, Alaska on June 20th. It will be the summer solstice - 19 hours and 22 minutes of daylight! Hopefully that will be enough time to finish the 13.1 miles...
If you want to follow my progress, check out my other all-about-running blog: Running to Alaska
Wish me luck!
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
I didn't know Contra Costa County went all the way out here....
Famous last words! Mike and I have an ongoing debate - every time we visit his parents, he wants to leave late and get there even later (it's a 5+ hour drive, so we get there around 1 am). I, on the other hand, much prefer to get up really early and get there around 10 am. This weekend, we're going to Tahoe, and we have planned to spend Thursday at his parents' house. Mike wanted to leave Wednesday night, I wanted to leave Thursday morning. This time, though, Mike had a good point - he teaches in Paso Robles all day on Wednesday (until 8:30 pm)and it didn't make much sense for him to drive all the way down to Arroyo Grande Wednesday night, only to get up early Thursday morning and drive (it would add 1.5 hrs to his time in the car). So, we left from Paso last night at 9 pm. Mike took the first leg of the drive and I slept. Then at midnight, we switched places. At this point, we only had 130 miles to go. I turned to Mike and said, "you know, it hasn't rained our whole trip; we got lucky." Then I immediately chided myself for jinxing us and thought to myself "knock on wood." I didn't want to say it out loud and sound paranoid...I also thought to myself, "It's a good thing Mike took the first leg of the drive, because this is a straight shot and I won't get lost." Swear to God I thought that. Mike fell asleep about 30 seconds later and almost immediately it started raining. Hard. With large semis spraying water everywhere and a light fog making everything hazy at night. Then, I veered left. I distinctly remember thinking to myself "I hate driving these high, curvy overpasses in the rain!" Which was precisely when I got on 580 instead of staying on Hwy 5.
For the next thirty minutes I battled potholes and pooled water, trying my hardest not to hydroplane, all the while getting sprayed from every direction. I spent most of the time staring at the road, trying to anticipate potential hydroplaning moments. Here's what I also remember:
the countless signs marking down how many miles to San Francisco. But, in my defense, Hwy 80 travels West-East from San Francisco through Sacramento, so I just thought the signs were on Hwy 5 signally that. Then, I saw a sign that read "Contra Costa County" and I thought "I didn't know Contra Costa County went all the way out here...." Dumbass.
Then we hit a pothole and Mike woke up. He looked around and said "BABE, WHY ARE WE IN LIVERMORE?" and which point I just sat there, silent, because I really didn't know why. Which is when we saw the exit for "Vasco Road," which I am very familiar with, because it's the exit to get to my Grandma's house. I then realized we were on 580. Mike repeated his question and I turned to him and said "I have no idea how we got here!" He then realized that I split onto Hwy 580 from 5. At which point I got a mini-lecture on needing to pay attention. At which point he got a mini-lecture about how I hate driving unfamiliar places in the rain, by myself, at night and this is why I hate driving so late! Then we just sat and stewed, the rain coming down harder and harder by the minute. Then, the weirdest thing happened. It's only happened once before in my life - I got somewhat hysterical. In the sense that I really really really had to supress the urge to laugh uncontrollably. The mix of driving in stressful conditions, arguing with Mike, and realizing that I had just added an hour-plus onto our late, long drive just shot my nerves. But I couldn't laugh because I knew that would just infuriate Mike.
Aside: This has only happened once before. A few years ago, my dad was recovering from chemo and radiation treatments and got a really bad cold. He was super dehydrated and passed out in the bathroom. We took him to the doctor and he passed out again, when I was in the room with him. Seeing him unconscious again made me all of a sudden want to laugh. Hard. Not because I thought it was even remotely funny. Just because my nerves were SHOT. I'm not proud of this.
Mike and I decide to pull over and let the rain ease up. We ended up in the parking lot of the hotel we stayed at for Nik's wedding. Mike crawled in the back of the 4Runner with the dogs and I stayed in the front seat. After five frazzling minutes of trying to get Nugget to lay down, all was calm. I was wired though, and realized that the rain was a lot lighter than I thought. So, we got back in the car (not until after I annoyed Mike - who was trying to sleep - by trying to take pictures of the dogs. If you're bummed that I haven't posted super-cute cuddle pictures of them, blame Mike) and headed up 580 to 680 and then back over to Sacramento. All in all, in only added 60 miles to our drive, but our stop put us back a little ways, so we got in at 3:30 am! Yikes!
A rant: I despise Hwy 580. If I lived in that county and had to drive that freeway all the time, I would be emailing my congressperson and Caltrans weekly until they fixed that road. It's awful.
For the next thirty minutes I battled potholes and pooled water, trying my hardest not to hydroplane, all the while getting sprayed from every direction. I spent most of the time staring at the road, trying to anticipate potential hydroplaning moments. Here's what I also remember:
the countless signs marking down how many miles to San Francisco. But, in my defense, Hwy 80 travels West-East from San Francisco through Sacramento, so I just thought the signs were on Hwy 5 signally that. Then, I saw a sign that read "Contra Costa County" and I thought "I didn't know Contra Costa County went all the way out here...." Dumbass.
Then we hit a pothole and Mike woke up. He looked around and said "BABE, WHY ARE WE IN LIVERMORE?" and which point I just sat there, silent, because I really didn't know why. Which is when we saw the exit for "Vasco Road," which I am very familiar with, because it's the exit to get to my Grandma's house. I then realized we were on 580. Mike repeated his question and I turned to him and said "I have no idea how we got here!" He then realized that I split onto Hwy 580 from 5. At which point I got a mini-lecture on needing to pay attention. At which point he got a mini-lecture about how I hate driving unfamiliar places in the rain, by myself, at night and this is why I hate driving so late! Then we just sat and stewed, the rain coming down harder and harder by the minute. Then, the weirdest thing happened. It's only happened once before in my life - I got somewhat hysterical. In the sense that I really really really had to supress the urge to laugh uncontrollably. The mix of driving in stressful conditions, arguing with Mike, and realizing that I had just added an hour-plus onto our late, long drive just shot my nerves. But I couldn't laugh because I knew that would just infuriate Mike.
Aside: This has only happened once before. A few years ago, my dad was recovering from chemo and radiation treatments and got a really bad cold. He was super dehydrated and passed out in the bathroom. We took him to the doctor and he passed out again, when I was in the room with him. Seeing him unconscious again made me all of a sudden want to laugh. Hard. Not because I thought it was even remotely funny. Just because my nerves were SHOT. I'm not proud of this.
Mike and I decide to pull over and let the rain ease up. We ended up in the parking lot of the hotel we stayed at for Nik's wedding. Mike crawled in the back of the 4Runner with the dogs and I stayed in the front seat. After five frazzling minutes of trying to get Nugget to lay down, all was calm. I was wired though, and realized that the rain was a lot lighter than I thought. So, we got back in the car (not until after I annoyed Mike - who was trying to sleep - by trying to take pictures of the dogs. If you're bummed that I haven't posted super-cute cuddle pictures of them, blame Mike) and headed up 580 to 680 and then back over to Sacramento. All in all, in only added 60 miles to our drive, but our stop put us back a little ways, so we got in at 3:30 am! Yikes!
A rant: I despise Hwy 580. If I lived in that county and had to drive that freeway all the time, I would be emailing my congressperson and Caltrans weekly until they fixed that road. It's awful.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)