Saturday, March 11, 2006


I'm in Austin, Tejas, y'all. For work and a little play. Arrived yesterday after being rudely bumped off my Northwest Airlines flight because of connection complications on the part of the airline, and transferred to another airline (thank you, Delta). But let's not dwell, on that, shall we?!

I'm here for the SXSW interactive and film festivals, an explosion of web design and other technology seminars, presentations by online movers and shakers (Dooce is here, as is Craig Newmark), parties (one hosted by Google), seminars on film, independent feature films, documentaries, and shorts.

Met with a source this afternoon and caught a showing of "Maxed Out," a documentary about America's crushing credit card debt and the billions of dollars banks and big business are making off our love with plastic. The crowd in the theatre loved it, hooting and cheering as the credits rolled.

I thought, "Ehh." I give it an A for effort and the overall concept, and a B minus at best for execution.

But let me back up. Let's talk about running. Or the pitiful representation thereof.

I've been dragging my bloody carcass around for the past week: nursing a stress-induced cold, sleeping only a fitful 4-5 hours a night, and working round the clock, for both my company as well as for publications I freelance for. I won't even go into the stress-induced stomach issues (ahem).

Boy, but I've been grouchy. All work and no play makes Bex a very pissed-off girl.

I did run this past week. But it was more work than pleasure. I ran 6 miles on a lung-squeezing incline on an elliptical machine on Tuesday, 4 miles with some fartlek on Wednesday, and 6 miles at marathon tempo pace on Thursday. I was supposed to log 8 miles on Thursday, but I was just too wiped out. In fact, after each of those three runs, I felt wrung out, not energized.

Friday I got up at 3:45 a.m. so I could finish packing and get on the road by 5 a.m. to get to the airport by 6 a.m. Then I spent a good chunk of the day flying, going through the surprisingly laborious process of registration at SXSW, and navigating Austin traffic (looots of Hummers here and not enough road). I was exhausted by 8 p.m.

Race Day!: So why did I think I was going to perform well at the Go For The Gold 10K here in Austin this morning? I signed up for the race a few weeks ago, when I found out I was going to be in town for SXSW (didn't mention the race before on this little 'ol blogeroo because was too busy working, natch).

"It'll be a good tune-up race," I thought to myself . "I bet I can PR with all of the marathon training I've been doing."


I just crack myself up, sometimes. I'll give you a long but hopefully interesting account of it. But not now. Sorry. It'll have to wait until tomorrow. This post is just way too long already. Plus, it's late and I have the overwhelming urge to lie down for several dozen hours.


  1. Wow, Dooce was there? Is she as funny in person as she is online?

    I don't blame you for thinking you'd PR with all the training you've been doing. But it's because of all that training that you didn't. Your body gets pretty beat up during marathon training and needs to recover so that you'll be ready to rock at the National. But you probably know that, since you're a "coach".

    You're a fast runner! I bet you PR at your next post-marathon 10K.

  2. I've read about that conference...what a great assignment! Have fun--and yeah a race after travel? Not the best timing.

  3. Can't wait to hear about the race! Stop by and lick Dooce's feet for me.

  4. and wow, Dooce was there? So cool!! I've been telling you for days to REST. Sigh.
    No one ever listens to me.

    Feel better, LD. And try to forget this morning's race. It only means you were worn out. Nothing more.

  5. I am so jealous that you are at SXSW and I am not - grrr!!! Have a fabulous time (like I need to even suggest that!)

    Running? Who needs running when you have all that cool technology and films and the music scene there - yowza!

  6. Oh Bex, welcome to my adopted hometown! Don't sweat the small stuff ... they don't say KEEP AUSTIN WEIRD for nothin' ...