Cue Beyonce’s, “Diva.”
I’ve run three marathons and a bunch of mud races, but have never completed a half-marathon as a race. What better way to run my first half than by journeying to DC’s Wine Country to run the Diva Half-Marathon Series?
This half marathon involves shamelessly wearing a tutu, receiving a tiara and boa mid-race, and ends with a rose and glass of champagne from a fire fighter. And entirely too much estrogen on a race course. I mean, how many times will you stand in line for a port-a-potty only to hear someone yell, “Anybody got a tampon?!?!? Anyone???? Anyone????” Sheesh.
On Friday, Amanda, Lori, and I headed to DC to pick-up my packet and get the party started.
When the volunteer handed me my bib he said, “Ohhhh…you have a black bib. Wow.” I replied with huge eyes, “I’m sorry, what does that mean?” He said, “It means you’re an elite runner. Get it girl.” I still don’t know what that meant, but I took it any way.
At the Expo we found The Biggest Loser’s Ali Vincent. I had no clue who she was, but she was important enough for Lori to want a pic. However, not important enough to stand in a long line to actually get a pic.
We carb-loaded some Italian food for the race. I ate but was easily distracted by the crayons and paper tablecloth.
The next morning we woke up early and took off for the race. Good thing we left early because we drove 30 miles in 1.5 hours. The traffic was so awful (due to terrible planning on the race’s part) that the start time was post-poned 1.5 hours. Regardless, I was ready. Is that a sparkly tutu? You bet it is.
The weather was PERFECT. Sunny and in the 60s.
I started off with an 8:30 pace. I felt great.
Shockingly, running in a tutu isn’t too bad. However, I used glittery tulle so glitter was literally EVERYWHERE. So much so that I had racers come up and tell me they “loved” my sparkly legs.
The best part of the race? The lovely folks on Green Village Road gave me a beer at mile 10. Thank you, kind sirs, you made the last 3.1 so much easier.
I received all my goodies and we were ready for some Aggie Football and food. Mostly cheese fries. Cheese fries and fried pickles. (Don’t judge the lack of make-up in the pic below, please).
After the race we headed to our game-watching partyyy. Beat the Hell Outta Bama! Here’s my favorite Aggie, Class of 2032.
When I tried to have a conversation with anyone, I was reminded, “Megan, we don’t talk when Aggies on offense.”
“Whoops, sorry Erika.”
Gig ’em and GO HOKIES! Yes, I taught Erika how to gobble. *proud Hokie*
Ags didn’t win, but I will chalk it up to being a very successful weekend.