This day was a series of unfortunate events, starting with a 3:45 AM drive over the Bay Bridge into San Francisco wherein a car next to me plowed into one of those plastic stick barricades, hurtling it toward my car such that it wedged itself in the undercarriage.
The race itself proved a tough day of fog and struggles, an improvement in time from prior weekends but not nearly enough for a BQ and definitely not enough for a Moonshot next week. On top of that, running through the suspended waterdroplets of fog meant I was drenched and had one of the worst hair days in recent memory, appearing to be balding and looking like Gandalf… but not the White, more like when he shows up in the Shire and looks to be a grey bearded aged old man.
Oh, and when I tried to clean my glasses of water spots on my shirt, I pulled a thread and put a giant hole in my 40th Anniversary SF Marathon shirt. Swell.
The drive back proved equally SNAFU and FUBAR, making the drive SUSFU and TARFU. On two separate stops for gas, the patrons in line nearly came to blows, like we were in the Road Warrior fighting over the last remnants of fuel in the wastelands. On one occasion a guy wanted to fight me — there were problems with the pumps and this guy, a model of rotten humanity exuding arrogance, abuse, self-centeredness, and crass, yells at everybody to stop using the pumps so they can reset the system. He yells at me to stop as I’m causing everybody problems. I had my hand resting on the pump but was not pumping… and I told him as such. His reply? “You looked like you were pumping. And that’s causing us all problems.” “I’m just standing here, sir,” I retorted and his comeback was, “Shut up. Stop being a dick. You don’t have to be an asshole.” I admit, I should have let it go but instead I said, “We have very different definitions apparently of what constitutes an asshole.” Had the pumps not been restored at that very moment, it was clear the guy was going to charge me like he was a verbally challenged Lord Humungus.
There’s an old adage that a rotten apple shouldn’t spoil the bunch. By the corollary… the converse? The inverse? By whatever logic discussion flows from that – can one good apple salvage a rotten realm? Because I’m starting to feel the world is overrun with mean, oblivious, bullying jerks.
I’ll post some photos from the marathon tomorrow but for now I’m just defeated by life. For as long as I had reception of the oldies station in one town, EVERY song on their playlist was released during my college years…. or after I graduated. So I’m probably just going to curl up into a little ball and sob into my blanket.
Still, because I shouldn’t end on such a dark sequence of events, here’s a bit of hope and sunshine. Tim and Renee ran their half marathon with great enthusiasm and much success. Congratulations to them… and to Renee for her PR!
A few of the photos they posted to social media…
