Guinness and Chili

I greeted the weather this morning with a gusty sigh into the cold breeze and smiled. I hope it's here to stay.

How tragic and almost taunting, that it's finally arrived less than 72 hours after Sunday's debacle, the Marathon. I am so glad it worked out I wouldn't be running this year...even though all I did was sit around in the heat most of the morning, serving brunch to rude non-tippers. It was supposed to be an epic weekend in Cleveland with the Midnight Shows. We had a gig all set to play Fishbone's (yes, of Bonin' in the Boneyard - they are back on tour) afterparty at the Cleveland's House of Blues.

I had sacrificed enough for myself and my racing at the expense of my music and musical colleagues. So when we found out we'd be touring the weekend of the Marathon, I figured we'd get more than enough free booze to offset the $120 registration feee. But our drummer felt it wasn't very important enough to go, even though she committed to those shows. They were to be her last. We liked her a lot. Very talented and had time like an atomic clock. But she killed the whole weekend for all of us simply by deciding she didn't want to drive out to Cleveland. Breaking her word.

Not to bring everyone down. Regardless of it all, I wasn't running in that furnace on the city streets last Sunday. I'm glad it wasn't my first marathon.

Were you there? Was it your first time? Or 10th? I'd love to hear from you regarding how it all really went down at those water stations. Was it really poor planning? Reckless neglect by the organizers? Did you have to run into Walgreen's along the route for a Gatorade?

Bring the Haterade for the marathon in my comments section!