#runthecountry

[presswrap-blog]

Someone has to set this country straight! I’ll do it with class! Already have my cabinet picked out... #runthecountry with #dignity #respect #courage #honor #integrity https://www.instagram.com/p/BodWJSKHs22/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1g3kkmb6p7k4p

[stevegilgo]

Run The Country-South Carolina

I was sitting at a rooftop bar in Isle of Palms when I saw her. A tall, blonde sipping on an almost empty margarita and tapping along to the house band. It’s a pretty common start to a chain of events that went really, really sideways and ended with me in the middle of 40,000 people, masquerading as a 40 year old man from Charleston.

I was nervous as hell but it seemed like now or never, so I walked over to her. We chatted for a bit, her name was a Colleen; an avid traveler, a beach lover and a fan of good music. We hit it off..unfortunately on my last night in town.

But then Colleen really caught my attention when she mentioned that she was all signed up for the monumental Cooper River Bridge Run, on tap for that weekend. I was impressed and talked up the event a bit more when her concerns came out—she didn’t think she was prepared for it, at all. “Nonsense”, I assured her and continued further into my infatuation as the evening rolled along. After some time we parted ways but left with a promise that the next afternoon, we’d meet back in Downtown Charleston for a beer or two before I made my way on home.

After work that Friday, I stepped into the Blind Tiger right off King Street and found her quickly. Soon, we’d picked right up where we left off the night before, when suddenly it spilled out again..Her uneasiness about the race was really wearing on her. And so, in offering up as much encouragement as I could, I blurted out how much I’d love to run in the race one day.

Without realizing what my words had done, her eyes lit up, and she begged me to use her race bib to take part in the fifth largest road race in the country. I was stunned and now slightly uneasy myself, unsure of how to respond. Sure, the thought of running the race sounded incredible, but the logistics were fuzzy. I had a half-marathon on the horizon that I’d spent most of my winter and spring training for. More importantly, I was pretty unfamiliar with my surroundings and even worse, didn’t have a place to stay.

Colleen took care of all that, showed me around the city and clued me into some of the lesser-known local haunts. Unsurprisingly, in a place like Charleston, we balled late into the evening when suddenly, it hit me..there was a race to be run in a handful of hours. In fact, there was a bus to be caught in just a couple that would cart me up and over the Arthur Ravenel Jr. Bridge into Mt. Pleasant, where the race’s starting line was marked and ready to go.

So after a quick nap, I wandered into the darkness alone, searching for an old school bus when finally I saw the hoards of people surrounding it. Slowly but surely, we all filed on. Many with headphones, coffee cups, and energy bars. And then, me…disheveled hair, dirty running gear, untied shoes..reeking of fresh alcohol…still fairly drunk. Due to the traffic setup for the race, it took us nearly an hour to get over on the right side of the bridge, a miserable beginning to the start of a long morning.

That’s when the hangover started to creep in. And so I stumbled off the shuttle and fell into the nearest Starbucks. I love Starbucks because it is a haven for middle-class bums and nomads (me). There’s a bathroom—I ran in there and took a life-changing bird bath. There’s food and drink—I got a banana and took an Iced Coffee straight to the face. And there are charging stations along with free wifi—Hey Mom, I’m alive! After half an hour in there I came out in the zone. I marched up to the start, ready to go, when I found out I wasn’t out of the woods just yet.

40,000 runners is a whole lot of runners, and for some reason that hadn’t really hit me. I’d never been a part of a race that big and never questioned the setup being any different than any other one I’d been in. But to handle such a crowd, participants were required to pre-register with estimated finish times. Based off of these times, participants would be placed into separate corrals to keep things structured and organized. Their idea was fool-proof..in the middle of each individual’s race bib, there was a large letter representing the corral you belonged to. Now remember, that according to my bib, I was walking around as a 23 year old female who hadn’t trained for the event. And so, Colleen had estimated her time in a way that placed her squarely in the Run/Walk portion of the event, in the very, very back.

Remaining calm, I slipped into a corral that fell more in line with my speed when suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. Unfortunately, the hand belonged to a rather large and stoic police officer, who quickly removed me from the incorrect corral and brought me over to the side. With my arms folded carefully over the name on my bib, I pleaded ignorance and offered up the excuse that I’d simply entered the wrong finish time, on accident. But with no time to waste, he barely acknowledged my plea and walked along with me to the Run/Walk corral.

I was dejected, embarrassed and starting to feel the effects of the night before settling back in, when my luck turned. A young mother pushing a stroller with a newborn was making her way into the corral. Following close behind was a proud father, beaming with excitement and more importantly, rocking a different bib from the rest of us in the Run/Walk group. Apparently, they allow exceptions on corral changes when you want to walk alongside your wife and newborn—go figure. Seeing one last chance, I chatted the parents up for a bit before I told the guy a little of my situation. He quickly saw where I was headed and offered a bib switch. I pinned on his bib and passed mine over, gave a quick thanks and was already on my way when I heard him call out..”Have a good one!!…Colleen???” It was too late, I’d vanished and made my way into the crowd.

As for the run, it was spectacular despite a lackluster personal performance. Seeing the bridge shut down to only foot traffic was wild. Live music at every turn kept me going throughout. And the last two miles of the race was a picturesque sprint straight through the heart of downtown Charleston. It really doesn’t get much better than that.

[abella-model]

Speaks on a rock hurtling through a void. Might as well fuck some strangers tonight. Vote trump. Lick a fresh turd in the toilet. Drive hammered. We die soon, and Alone. 2015 was a joy compared to the metaphorical GI Joe that 2016 is gunna shove up your ass. #getsome #runthecountry #totheground #2016