Memorial day weekend has been a pretty low key event this year. Ryan and Wendy headed to the WEMS race. I decided to stay in Madison to chill out and bring my stress level down. Saturday I helped a non-cycling friend fix her bike then I took her on ride around Lake Mendota. Sunday I rode over to the Madison Marathon. A few of my friends were running the half and I thought it would be nice to cheer them on. Unfortunately there were so many people that I couldn't even find them at the finish line.
It's been a long time since I hung out at a running event; I forgot how skinny runners are. Many of the top marathoners literally have sticks for legs. Another thing I noticed is that there was a large portion of people limping after the race. There were way too many racers sporting knee braces and ice packs post event. Honestly I think the best thing a marathoner or ultra runner can do is to pick their parents well. Some people just are not able to put in the miles to do that kind distance and stay injury free. And I'm one of them.
I had a pretty interesting ride this evening. I rode my bike downtown, past The Terrace, down to the Lakeshore dorms, then back home. For reasons unknown to me, my emotions were extremely stirred up and I had a total sensory overload. Maybe I've been so numb to the world lately that this ride was a much needed release or maybe it's the anti-depressants messing with me. All the memories from college started to flood back into my mind. The places I hung out at, the relationships I had, the apartments I lived in, the friendships that I made, all the experiences that made me who I am. Between all my college flashbacks, the streets around me were buzzing with activity. Warner beach full with people picnicking and fishing, a fishing boat that was tagged with the words "muff diver down here", the governor's mansion, the smell of Lake Mendota on a summer evening, frat row/Langdon street full of people drinking and playing frisbee, a couple making out on the terrace, a 13 year old boy trying to race me on the Lakeshore path (and as the Pilgrim would say - he got "girl'd"), picnic point, the Open Pantry where I used to fill up the moped and buy booze underage, someone pumping "Rhiannon" in a white Toyota Prius on the corner of State St. and Johnson, the man with the unicycle at Tenney Locks. I'll never live anywhere else.