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Runners filled the streets, mostly women, and hip hop music played in the background to wake us all up. Once Beyonce came on, there seemed to be a collective booty shake throughout Union Square while participants started to think that this "running" thing wasn't such a terrible idea. Amie, our default cheerleader and photographer, stood on the sidelines snapping pictures while trying to stay warm. This was the first half marathon for my sister Julie, and we decided to run together. Or maybe I decided to run with her because I couldn't hang on my own with such little training. Either way, we treaded forward, pushed on by the energy of the crowd and the music, and eventually the mileage actually started to feel good.
We were having fun. I liked this. I thought, huh, maybe I have it in me to do the whole thing. Yeah, twenty six miles is only twice as long. I could probably do it. How bad could it be? Maybe I should just go for it.
Then, out of nowhere, mile six and reality both hit at the same time and we ran up a true San Francisco hill. My knees decided that the half marathon was just fine for today, thankyouverymuch, and the countdown for mile thirteen began.
We heaved, we trodded, and every now and then when a wave of energy would hit, we goofed around. Julie would look over at me and sing whatever lyrics were coming through her earphones, and I'd dance back at her with some silly arm movements. We were tired but, amazingly, still having fun.
At the finish, Julie looked determined and happy, but a little pained as well. Nevertheless, her first half marathon was a success. After we got in to the finishers area, she let me know that her back hurt, and we quickly made our way to a medical tent. A volunteer secured an ice pack to her back with some handy saran wrap looking stuff, and together we hobbled over to the meet-up area to find Amie and friends. Julie needed to rest, and wanted to catch up with her friends while holding on to the ice pack, so Amie and I crossed the street to the shining beacon of post-race nirvana: The Beach Chalet Brewery.
Across the street from Ocean Beach, The Beach Chalet Brewery has some amazing views of the sea, good food, and a variety of beers as well. The whole place was packed with runners, yet we still managed to find a couple of seats at the bar. I ordered a sampler of beers, and Amie had a spicy Bloody Mary with all the garnishes. We shared some garlic fries and buffalo wings, and I'm not sure I've ever had better.
Besides serving as liquid painkillers, my samples of beers were really only decent. Nothing remarkable whatsoever, except for the Riptide Red Ale which was full bodied and deliciously bitter. Our food was definitely the best part and our service was very friendly, especially considering how busy this place was.
After our pit stop, we took a look at the Shuttle line to go back to the city, which had wrapped around the block - it wasn't looking good. Meanwhile, Julie had gone from sore to worse. Her back, still iced, was hurting more and more. Eventually, we made our way back to the hotel, showered, and rested for a while.
The goal for the evening was to meet up with friends at Toronado, but sadly that was not to be. We were a little afraid that Julie's back was seriously hurt, so laying low was all we could do. But having not run in weeks, then hitting the thirteen miles with my sister, seeing all the breathtaking views of the San Francisco coastline, and then refreshing afterwards with a few beers - not bad. Not bad at all.
Congrats, on a race well run! Proud of the beer drinking afterwards!
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