This weekend will be my last beach trip before we fly out to Rio in November for the wedding.
It’s also my last long race before the Chicago Marathon — I even have *gasp* time goals for the Rock n Roll VA Beach Half Marathon (don’t laugh at my stupid time goals — I know it’s slow, but I am still planning on cutting about 10 minutes off my time…).
Of course, effing hurricane Earl has other plans. Virginia Beach already has a tropical storm warning and a hurricane watch.
It’s my mini-vacation, people!!! And I want that stupid medal! And half-marathon or no half-marathon, I still need to run 13 miles this weekend!
Wish me luck. We’re driving down there tomorrow super-early in the morning. I heard that the first thing to get evacuated is the oceanfront. Guess where we’re staying? Exactly.
Turns out, one of the girls from my running group who’s also running it, has never (EVER!) seen the beach or the ocean before, since she spent her life at a landlocked state. This is surreal to me, growing up in Rio, where we could see the ocean from our window (it wasn’t the nicest beach that we lived by, but whatever).
Imagine the first time you see the ocean you’re dealing with storms?
On the bright side, if the storm misses us, the waves will be AWESOME.
On the not so bright side, last year we were dealing with super calm waters, almost pool-like, but the idiot lifeguards wouldn’t let anyone go in the water past their knees. I’m sorry, for me that’s a sign of laziness — yes, the beach is crowded, yes, it’s labor day weekend, but do your job and save people if you need to, don’t ruin everyone’s fun by making everyone stay up to their knees only.
And you know what? I feel MUCH safer in the deep water with no one around me, than I do with 20 kids within 10 feet doing stupid things like kicking my head if I go in to cool off. Not that I even got to the deep water, the water was up to my waist when I got whistled at, I ignored it — since I wasn’t doing anything wrong, there’s no way in hell that whistle is aimed at me — and then finally had a lifeguard screaming at me asking me to get out of the water, and only go up to my knees. WTF.
(If you ever get the chance to go to Rio, you’ll see lifeguard posts by the boardwalk, every quarter mile or so, they’re a couple of stories high, no lifeguards at the beach at all. They’re at their posts with their binoculars, and you see helicopters every so often patrolling the beach — that’s what lifeguards are supposed to do: patrol the area, and come out if there are any issues. Not forbid people from enjoying themselves so god forbid they have work to do!)
So awesome waves will be for nothing, I bet they won’t even let us in the water at all.
Wish me luck…