I heard about this blog project/idea/whatever where you take a photo for each hour of your day and post it. But, then, it turned out that my whole day would be pictures of my computer and a pile of notes. So, here is the one awkward selfie of me at the gym instead:
My Boston “passport” finally arrived, which apparently means all the information they don’t disclose on the internet like times and places to be.
This, apparently, also included a ticket to dinner. But, you don’t get to pick your time for dinner. The actual instructions say if you want a different time than your assigned time, then you should trade with another runner. So, um, let me know if all the cool kids are going to 5 p.m. dinner?
The whole “Passport to Boston” also included a catalog of all the special stuff you can buy as a special person who gets to go to a super special race — except I think maybe anyone can buy it. It may not come as a shock that I am not the type of person who typically buys merch from races, but part of me kind of wants to — because why not. I just got a tax refund, so let’s go shopping!
The only problem is that all the men’s stuff is cuter than the women’s. I think. I mean, I’m still just getting my head around women’s cut shirts — why do we need V’s in our necks, is it for our massive boobs? — so when they try and make things feminine-y it confuses me.
This is probably the primary thing that is going to occupy my mind for the next 17 days.
See, men’s clothes:
And, the women’s stuff:
I suppose in the next two weeks (I fly out two weeks from today!), I will also like read the rest of the passport and check my hotel reservations and make plans with the like half-dozen people I said I’d make plans with when I’m there and, you know, get race ready. I will probably also shop. It’s part of my taper.