Not a chance in hail

The UM track and field team hosted its home opener (the Al Manuel Invitational) yesterday in Missoula. I attended the meet and, in true has-been fashion, mingled with fellow spectators and offered them my (usually unsolicited) opinions about the day’s performances. I even used introductory phrases like, “You know, back when I was running for the Griz…” and “Well, in my day…”

I sounded like one of those old-timer track junkies who creep around at local meets, stalk the athletes, and try to talk strategy with them before their races. I’m glad I caught myself before I started rambling about my days of running the 440 on a dirt track.

I had left the house that morning fully expecting to have an emotional breakdown at some point during the day. I pictured myself totally losing it as the mid-distance girls lined up for the 800 meters. And yes, I will admit that my eyes were a little misty when the starting gun was fired. But it was the high-speed, hail-speckled gusts of wind—not lack of emotional control—that caused my eyes to well up involuntarily.

I bumped into my former coaches at several points throughout the meet. When I stopped to chat with the head coach, he asked me if it was hard for me to watch and not compete. I assured him that I was decidedly not jealous of the 800 runners who had to deal with a nasty headwind laced with tiny ice shards as they fought their way down the homestretch.

“Ahh, come on,” he teased. “There’s a little part of you that was just dying to be on that starting line.”

Well, maybe a little, teeny-weeny, itsy-bitsy, Ryan Seacrest-sized part of me. For the most part, though, I was surprisingly content to stay dry and (sort of) warm underneath multiple layers of clothing as I snapped photos for the Montana Grizzlies website.

After scrolling through my shoot this morning, I breathed an audible sigh of relief at not seeing my own agony-distorted face somewhere among my hundreds of race photos. Maybe I’m just trying really hard to cope with the loss of my status as a hail-fighting-renegade-badass. But seriously, would you be dying to trade places with any of the following athletes?

Get in my belly

While perusing the LetsRun.com message boards the other day, I stumbled upon an entry that piqued my interest.

Normally, I would hesitate to copy and paste directly from the forum, as the standards of English grammar and punctuation on this particular site tend toward the abysmal. But reading the crap—er, well-informed, valuable insight—consistently found on LetsRun is somewhat entertaining, especially if you can’t afford cable.

The comment in question, however, was refreshingly intelligible:

"I like to read some blogs of higher-level runners, including some females. One thing that strikes me about the female bloggers is how often some of them post pictures of their food. I’m sure it’s just me, but I wonder if some of them have eating issues."

My initial reaction was that the idea of eating food sort of runs contrary to the idea of eating disorders, so Mr. Stir-the-chili-pot really didn’t have much of an argument. My second reaction was that in my meticulous research of the running blogosphere, I had obviously missed this apparently pervasive trend.

I am a female, and I consider myself a higher-level has-been runner, so clearly I should be sharing my dietary choices with the entire online world. I immediately started compiling photo documentation of my daily menu. Here are some of this week’s highlights:

Taco pizza and Corona: a Mexican match made in Heaven. Muy sabroso.

Fritos and bean dip: a classic combination. (Notice the "All Natural" stamp on the bean dip. That means it counts as health food, right?)

Chocolate donut and milk: another timeless twosome.

OK, so it’s not the organic tofu stir-fry or egg white veggie omelette you would expect to find in the blog of a true elite runner. But the optimist in me likes to believe that there is nutritional value in any food, be it fruit salad or Fruit Loops.

Further analysis of my food photo diary led to the discovery of a previously unrecognized trend in my personal culinary preferences: I like eating things in pairs. There’s something very balanced and harmonious about a donut and a glass of milk. And who could deny that Fritos are the undeniable Yin to bean dip’s Yang?

So if you’ll excuse me, I need to get to IHOP. I hear they’re running a special on chicken and waffles.