On Sunday morning I completed the Rock ‘n’ Roll Dallas Half Marathon. The weather was hot and humid (check out the hair), but the course was gorgeous and the spectators were fantastic.
On more than one occasion I saw families outside their homes handing out cups of beer to runners. I was tempted a few times to take them up on their offer but I knew if I stopped running for even a second, that I would end up lying down on their front lawn and begging them to call a cab to take me back to Shreveport (note: my legs are still sore from Sunday).
I am not one of those vain runners who thinks that they look good while racing. I'm just posting pictures as evidence.
It was my 7th half marathon and I finished in 1:55:18. Not my best time, but not my worst time, either. I’m just glad I finished. The finisher’s medal is a metallic carving of cowboy boots. How Texas. It made the 13.1 mile trek worth it.
Still standing, a true measure of a successful race.
I attempted to go running on one of my favorite paths along the Red River today but it was still completely flooded from last week’s storms. Everything looks like one giant swamp.
All that water? Usually it's just grass.
The Red River is usually on the OTHER side of that line of trees.
Bridge, completely submerged.
Probably should have traded in my running shoes for a bathing suit...
I’ve learned from locals that springtime here can only be paired with one beverage and that is the Strawberry flavored lager from the local Louisiana brewery, Abita.
Strawberry Abita, the local springtime brew.
Trying to obtain a Strawberry Abita has given me pretty good insight into what it must have been like during prohibition. Local stores get shipments about once a week and they are usually sold out in a few hours.
So when I accidentally stumbled upon a store after it had just received their weekly allotment, I felt compelled to stock up for the season as if the apocalypse was nearing.
It’s good, it’s light, it has an interesting strawberry aftertaste without being sweet, but when I tasted it, I was kind of expecting something out-of-this-world-amazing because of all the hype.
When I mentioned this to a few people, they looked at me in disbelief. We agreed this might be one of those things that only locals “get.” Kind of like Yuengling in the Northeast.
… brought heavy rains, tornado warnings, and a power outage last week. It also brought this 5-inch worm(?) in through our pipes and into the (clean) toilet bowl:
Shreveport had about 5 inches of rain in a 24-hour period causing everything to back up and bring this little man up the wrong stream. However, like the itsy-bitsy spider who climbed up the water spout, I hit flush and washed this creature out (after letting out a scream and making a panicked phone call home, of course).
Top o’ the morning!
It has felt like spring for weeks (was winter even here?) but it hasn’t looked like it.
However, last weekend’s heavy rainfall mixed with the past few days of sunshine to bring us a St. Patrick’s Day miracle. It seems Mother Nature changed her wardrobe from brown to green overnight, just in time for the holiday.
The backyard, looking less like a burnt patch of hay.
Azaleas are blooming in the front yard.
More springtime shrubbery from the front yard.
p.s. If there is one holiday that has made me miss home so far (NJ and/or DC), it is this one. St. Patrick’s Day just doesn’t get as much play down here as it does back home. For those of you enjoying parades and Guinness in excess to celebrate your Irish heritage, have an extra pint for me.
This isn’t the first time I’ve written about Zac Brown Band (read it here) and it probably won’t be the last because we are obsessed. They were our first favorite country band and they were in town over the weekend at the CenturyLink Center.
Afterwards, we agreed that it was one of the best live performances we’ve seen in a while. No outrageous bells and whistles; just great, feel-good songs that remind you of all the reasons why you love living in the South.
After 3 1/2 years as an apartment/city dog, she is like a
pig Beagle in mud with her own backyard.
This happens on a daily basis:
Returning inside after burying bones and treats.
Without fail, these muddy paw prints will be stamped all over the house in 30 seconds flat.
This usually results in a lot of growling.
And I’m not referring to the dog.