LA Marathon Part 1: here goes nothing

Some kind of miracle got my tush out of the bed before 7am and mom and I were on our way from San Diego to LA by 8am.  120 miles later, we were lost in LA, somewhere in the vicinity of Dodger Stadium (thanks for nothing, Google Maps), with no stadium in view.  Luckily, mom was zen, I found my brain and we finally found the stinkin’ stadium and expo:

These Ohio-girls were uber-impressed with the rosey-smelling portopotties and porto-sinks with real soap, water and paper towels.  But I’ll bet my race bib they won’t be so lovely tomorrow morning…  All tinkled out, we wandered through the chaos collecting samples, coupons and fliers, trying not to get trampled by the sample-hungry masses, sipping coffee and doing shots:

Shh, don’t tell!  This was our 2nd round of POM Wonderful “shots!”

POM for Pam

With our bags full of Larabars, buy-2-get-1 socks, an LA t-shirt for the hub, and a bunch of other crap goodies, we stretched, got back in the car and drove 120 miles back to San Diego.  We picked up Jared and headed to Souplantation for a feast.  And by feast, I mean FEAST.  I housed two gargantuan plates of salad with all the good stuff and went to town on the (hey, I’m carbo loading!) all-you-can-eat self-serve fro-yo.  Yummers.

I beg to differ, Souplantation.

Now we’re home from our 4pm dinner, getting ready for bed at 8pm because we’re leaving for LA at 3:30 in the middle of the night in the morning!  Golly, am I a marathoner or grandma? 

In 12 hours, I’ll be running the LA Marathon.  I’m both focused and freaked out.  I’m a tornado of emotions: excited, anxious, confident, fearful, keyed up, impatient, frustrated, hopeful, ready.  Truth be told, I am not ready in the sense of being “trained.”  Sarah Soon-To-Be (who’s in the same boat with only 5 weeks of training) said it perfectly: “My body might not be trained to run 26.2 this time, but it’ll be ABLE.”