beach, beach, beach

Life is a series of crashing disappointments. Sometimes a run makes you remember that.

I’m out on the Selena 10k course. It’s 90. I realize I have cash in my purse. The snow cone stand is exactly at the turnaround. Happy.

And then, it’s not.

The little splotch there isn’t a blood stain. I think. It’s the spot where the snow cone stand was. Now only a little strawberry syrup is left to taunt me.

I suppose they pull up stakes the day after Labor Day. Although I don’t think there were actually any stakes. Shouldn’t snow cone stands be dictated by thermometers rather than calendars? It’s 90 freaking degrees. I think you could sell ice when it’s 90 degrees. Unless they are vacationing Eskimos. Is it still politically correct to say Eskimo? If so, please add to the list of possible Washington nicknames.Yes, I licked up the strawberry syrup. But it wasn’t the the same.

And then. Even though there was no snow cone, I found the perfect orange cone. Yes, this is why that call me the Master of the Segue.

I finally found the orange cone of my dreams. Perfect for a centerpiece on the dining room table. No, we don’t really have a dining room table. Or a dining room. But still. I was smitten. Only to read the fine print and discover IT’S NOT FOR SALE!!!!

Why must they taunt me like this? Maybe I could lease it.

Run was OK. I gave up on hrm and just went with four breaths. Felt pretty good though it will be interesting to see what recovery is like tomorrow. 22 mph tailwind going out, so usual screwy splits. Maybe I’m slow enough that pushing won’t matter much. We’ll see.

Would’ve been faster overall time, but I got waved down by a couple in the last mile looking for directions. Actual transcript:

Where’s the beach?

This is the beach.

No. The beach.

This. The beach.

We are trying to find the beach.

You have found the beach.


Yes, beach.

No, beach.





With all of this beaching and moaning, it was just like being with The Broads during the last 10 miles of Bandera.

And then:

North Beach.

Oh. Go over the bridge and turn right.

Thank you. Beach.

You’re welcome. Beach you too.

Upside: I ran way too hard over last mile to get a decent split after that, and it still felt OK. Maybe there’s hope.

Maybe I’ll run at North Beach tomorrow, if I can find the beach. They probably still have a snow cone stand.

About gary

no sock monkeys were harmed in the making of this blog.
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1 Response to beach, beach, beach

  1. CA Running says:

    So much beaching! 😉

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