But here I am, with an official number bib thing:
Plus a fancy dri-weave shirt and a collection of pouches that attach to different parts of my arms and waist to hold my cell phone. I kept trying to find one that's comfortable, see, and it turns out none of them are. But the Nike "arm wallet" doesn't cause actual pain and doesn't fall off after the first few miles, so it's the big winner. And you've already met my excellent running shoes.
Today was the ooh la la Nike Expotique at Union Square, where I joined 16,999 other energized ladies to pick up our race packets, mini Luna Bars, Macy's coupons, and power to the (female) people T-shirts:
You know this is a women-focused event because they had a tent for massages, manicures, and sport underwear fittings. It was all free, but I didn't feel like waiting in a three-hour line so a Nike rep could tell me my bra size and try to sell me pink sneakers. It was way too nice outside for that.
One neat addition to this year's expo was the huge list of runner names posted on the side of the Nike store, à la Vietnam Memorial (creepy reference, but they look just the same). I forgot to bring my camera, but I did find my name and grin at it a little.
Now it's time for me to revisit grade school by going to bed at 9 p.m. Anyone—ahem, Amy—who remembers last year's alarm fiasco will understand why I'm setting at least two clocks to wake me up in the morning. Maybe three.
See you in about 13.1 miles. Woo hoo!
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