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emmanation

You like me! Of course, you probably don't know me very well.

a puzzling, rollicking piece of tosh

September 25th, 2009 by biscuit

I may have mentioned that I ran the marathon, yes? I was a little fried at the time, but since I’ve received some congratulations, I’m going to assume that my marathon post made sense etc. Yes, I could go back and read it, but I’m worried that would make my legs hurt.

There are two things that I did not mention regarding the race. Both had to do with keeping myself entertained for twenty six very long miles and both involved my iPhone.

1 – I listened to The Lost Symbol. Not all of it, obviously, since the unabridged audio book is 18 hours long, but quite a bit of it.

(This is apparently the New Zealand cover. I like it better than the North American one.)

(This is apparently the New Zealand cover. I like it better than the North American one.)

Why, oh why, does Dan Brown have such a problem with letting us in on his secrets? I’ve now read four (is that all of them?) of his books, and the theme that ties them all together seems to be a basic desire to keep us guessing. Well, other than the whole ‘there are secret symbols everywhere’ theme.

For example, in The Lost Symbol, Robert and his obligatory lady friend are in the back of a taxi cab headed to some fate-of-the-world-depends-on-it meeting, when she suddenly has a revelation involving a dollar bill and redirects the cab. She writes something down and tells Langdon ‘you’re not LOOKING where I’m POINTING’ and then they rush out into the night. That’s the sum total of the information you get, as the reader, for like a chapter and a half.

I’m actually quite familiar with this technique, because I remember it from the chapter books I read when I was little. For example, R.L. Stine could and did rock the chapter ending cliffhanger. Of course, R.L. Stine was also trying to keep young readers from giving up on the whole chapter concept by making the next chapter a must read. What on earth is Dan Brown’s excuse? Dan, darling, we are not third graders and do not have to be tricked into continuing onto the next chapter.

2 – I live tweeted the marathon. Yep, that’s right. If you’re on twitter you can go look under #bouldermarathon – it’s mostly me, with one from my mom bluehairsprinte. However, you don’t actually HAVE to go look, because here it is in all it’s degrading psychosis.

Short shorts, iPhone, and a pocket full of Tums. Let’s go!

Mileage is smileage  http://twitpic.com/ig5kh

The Lost Symbol is keeping me company, in case you’re wondering. (Told you.)

I repeat to myself: this will be a tailwind on the way back. (Not true. It was pretty much a head or side wind the whole race.)

Port-a-potties, I both love and loathe you.

During races is the only time boulder county encourages you to throw trash on the ground. (I thought this was hilarious. Cut me some slack, I was at mile 9 or something and the 17 miles to go were weighing heavy.)

Only 11 miles and I’m hallucinating spaceships  http://twitpic.com/ighl5

Mom as support crew yay! (God bless that woman for bringing me candy corn and love.)

I am strong. I can do this.  http://twitpic.com/ignz9

This hill is just mean.  Anyone wanna run a 10k? http://twitpic.com/igyb2 (The hill was more than mean – it was the end of my hopes of meeting my time goal. A hill at mile 20 is seriously rude.)

At this point I stopped saying any words that weren’t curse words, so I (wisely) stopped tweeting. However, I had one more in me for after the race:

Finished. And still vamping. Bam, said the lady. http://twitpic.com/ihjc4

I’m so proud of myself. And such a geek. Denver Marathon, anyone?

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