Lobster Run

I had two jobs today: to run and to locate beverages.

At approximately 5:30 this morning my brother informed me, "Oh yeah, you know how you thought your leg of the race was about 6.5 miles? It's actually 7.25." I don't know why I didn't say "See ya" and crawl back into bed. Now, as a middle child (unite!), I will always be concerned with fairness. So last time I used a calculator, I believe that one fourth of 26.2 miles came out to be 6.55. So how my leg of the race gained an extra three quarter miles (with hills, I might add) is beyond me. So that was job number one: run. Which I accomplished, and now have a delectable sunburn to show for it. And, an official St. Louis Marathon Relay medal, which I'll probably hang on a doorknob or something.

My second job took place at two separate times: breakfast, and post-race. After we sent Dad, Kelly, and Andrew off on the first leg, coffee was obviously the only thing on my brain. So, being the least shy of our posse, I began approaching people with Starbucks cups in hand and asking them where they got the java. As we got closer it became a game of Hot & Cold. "Excuse me, Sir, how many more blocks do we have? Did we pass it?"

After the race, I kept asking, "Do you know where the beer is?" "Is the beer this way?" "Are we headed in the direction of the beer?" And eventually we were greeted by the Michelob Ultra tent and its ice cold cups of frothy hoppiness.