Saturday was officially awesome, despite the fact that I woke up at noon. Some people might claim that I am basically a sloth, but I am only listening to my incredibly wise mother who says “get more sleep,” all the time because maybe she thinks that when I Skype her at 2 in the morning (my time — she might become homicidal if it were 2 am her time), it’s a sign I’m not sleeping. And to that I say, “noon, mama! I slept till noon!”
Ok, right, moving along.
Saturday. Ah, the beauty that is the road race in combination with the beauty that is the mild Scottish winter.
After waking up at noon and dragging myself haphazardly from my bed, I stumbled into racing gear (literally stumbled and almost fell on my floor), ate a banana, eggs and a crumpet with raspberry jam (dude, crumpets are one food the UK has figured out — now they just need to figure out whole wheat), and feeling appropriately full, I set out for the gym with an exciting five-mile road race on my mind.
We were going to Cupar, which is not especially far and I needed to be back by 4:30 because I had a “work trial” at 5 pm and I had this weird idea in my head that I could shower, dress appropriately and make what is a leisurely 20- to 25-minute walk in half an hour. This is not something I probably could have done. But we’ll get to that.
The early afternoon was super Scottish with all this brightness and a little bit of warmth if you managed somehow to find a windbreak, which was complicated because the wind did not seem to have selected any particular target direction. Still, things were looking good and a number of people stated that “it was perfect racing weather” and that seemed like a small stretch to me, but not being one to argue (right? right), I didn’t say anything.
And the race really was nice. It was an out-and-back five-mile, with a dipping road between fields that somehow remain green all year long. What is up with that? I guess I’m just used to, like, snow and dead brown things.
In any case, I ran it in 38 minutes, which was cool, or hot, or whatever, and it started to rain in my last mile. This was sort of a treat because it meant I didn’t get rained on so much. Although then I stood in the drizzle waiting for the rest of the girls and realized that it wasn’t really a treat. And then it stopped raining, so now you’re probably wondering why in the world I’m still typing this paragraph about rain that lasted for about ten minutes. Yep. This paragraph is totally over now.
Let’s get back to my timing estimations. We were in no way getting back before 4:45. So I became incredibly annoying and began asking every single person present if they were ready to go yet.
I did get to my room at 4:47 because my new friend Alistair was kind enough to drop me at my door, and I raced upstairs, calling GT on the way to see if he would drive me to my “work trial” and in the meantime, I realized that I did not have the clothing I’d been asked to wear. It wasn’t even really complicated, yet somehow I did not have black trousers or a long-sleeved white shirt and so I tried to improvise by wearing an off-white silk blouse and a black skirt with black tights. However, in my rush to get the blouse on, I put it on backwards and tried to turn it without taking it off, which caused a button to fly off the back like some evil slingshot aimed at delaying me. Then I decided I should wear a blazer, to cover the missing button and so I threw on a grey blazer, grabbed makeup and raced outside, where GT waited.
I didn’t end up having the work trial because, as it turns out, I wasn’t dressed appropriately for work. I also found out that my super cute crackle-painted nails (gold and black, yo!), were a no go. However, it all worked out because I couldn’t really work Saturdays anyway and being there allowed me to meet with a boss in another division of the hotel, who is planning to schedule me for another go at the work trial within the breakfast staff.
Today I bought black trousers and two white collared shirts and bemoaned my quad muscles because they are angry at yesterday’s road race and making it known when I get vigorous with the stairs.
The weekend has been a success.