26.2

I think I should move to San Francisco. The city agrees with me that: there should be more mom & pop joints than chains; a little rain never hurt anybody; trees are good, a lot of trees are great and when they are in a giant park in the middle of the city that’s even better; public transportation rocks – a city should always begin with someone sitting down and planning it. Can you tell that my city has none of above?

My friends and I went to SF to support M who ran the Nike Women’s marathon. (“Woot woot!” “She rocked da hizouse!” “Soooo good!”). I have to admit, it was quite a thing to encourage these amazing runners, because in doing so I was the one encouraged by their perseverance. You should see their faces when they acknowledged our applause or yells. I wish I had pom-poms or tambourines. Dani, Marc and I just had to settle with holding up our signs and occasionally breaking into a little jig. Too bad I missed the Bono impersonator at Mile 6.
We had a blast traversing Little Italy, walkie-talkie-ing (“Stacy that! Over!” "Um, Danielle? That wasn't you, was it? Is someone in our frequency?"), hiking up the hills, dreaming about our future EU diplomat husbands, having our breaths taken away, eating lots, falling asleep in the muni, and running beside M. She not only finished, she finished well, people.

Her adorable nephew asked, at our celebration lunch, how come Auntie has so many friends. Nic, it’s because she’s blessed, and she’s awesome. Her friends are pretty awesome too.

Here’s to God, to M, to the city of San Francisco, to the Green Tortoise, to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, to Snowboard, Dani, Marcos, Grizzlee, and P.

Run like a girl!