It's a great time. Somewhat surreal as I do not stay up normally past midnight, nor do I normally run at said time.
Regardless, it's pretty stinking amazing to run through a million or so Christmas lights.
That being said, you would think that all our friends would want to run with us. But alas, as in years past, no one did. Not true. There were over 1,000 people who did. They just weren't any of the ones we invited (except Kurt Telford. Way to go Kurt!)
Honorably mention goes to my lovely wife, Leela, who has run two out of three years. No honor to Murf's wife who chickened out for no good reason (my opinion). I'm still simmering, Al. There, I said it.
Anyway, last year I ran fast enough to get a prize (one of the two or three fleece blankets I accumulated over the year). I didn't want/need another fleece blanket, nor did I want to run until I wanted to throw up, nor did I want to wake up the next morning feeling like I threw up, so this year I was determined to keep the pace down.
I took some precautions. Put in a long run earlier that day with my new awesome neighbors, the Sabios. Put down a couple brews during the pre-party. Dressed in costume. Gray sweats, Rocky-style, with the headband and wig you see on Santa above. And finally, started about halfway back with Leela and Murf.
But man, when that count down counted down, I couldn't help it. The first mile was rough going - weaving through walking jogging revelers. I finally hit my stride at the turn around. And I don't want to toot too loud on my horn, but I kicked it into high gear.
There was something about running through twinkling lights in my Rocky getup with my guido wig bouncing around that got me going.
Turns out, I finished 2nd in my age group. Not too bad if I do say so myself. I woke up the next morning with some old man soreness. But all in all, I was glad I did it.
And to top it off, no fleece blanket this year!
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