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Shamrocks and Shin Splints

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There is a very, very good reason that I didn’t run this weekend:

I'm not drunk. I'm excited about celebrating my culture. Which includes, apparently, sparkly green bowler hats.

I mean C’MON! It was St. Patrick’s Day weekend! I’m Irish. I mean, legit Irish. And even though nobody actually drives snakes out of entire countries anymore, I’m still a fan of day drinking. I HAD to celebrate.

Casey’s sister came in all the way from the country of Dayton (Ohio) to celebrate with us. Without giving too much away, we are all 3coughcoughcough, so that put us in the high end of the age range of people heading out to celebrate all day – a fact that didn’t stop us. Nay, it made us more determined to not just go out, but to show these wippersnappers how it’s done. I believe they call that ‘representing’.

So we hop on the T, head down to Station Square, and it was awesome. If by awesome you mean the most annoying, disgusting, most skin crawling display of green-bedecked human people that I have ever seen. Pretty much your typical St. Patty’s Day in Pittsburgh. The difference wasn’t the crowd, the difference was me. It’s official. I’m getting old.

For instance, at a table outside of on of the bars, there was a young(ish) woman sitting alone in a chair. She looked to be about my age, or a hard mid-20’s. She was all alone, friends no where to be seen. She was retching, about to barf. I encouraged her to get up and barf over the ledge, a command that her booze-addled brain was able to obey. She waddles over, starts to throw up over the ledge into the parking lot, and I notice that she had also pissed herself. A large, dark, wet spot announced to all who saw (all thousands of them) that this young lady was there to PARRRRRRRTTTTTYYYYYYYYYYY. Party till she puked AND pissed herself, while hundreds of drunken strangers took pictures and videos to post on the internet to live on for ALL TIME. It was 1:45 in the afternoon.

I could go on. But I won’t. We had a great time, we really did. There were just certain things that I saw that reminded me that this was a young person’s game (mostly the bathrooms. It seems that young people will go in the most disgusting of toilets), and I was not that young anymore. Until I got drunk, at which point it was fabulous and I had a great time. Albeit without pissing myself or barfing (take THAT, young people. There is something to be said for EXPERIENCE).

But that is not the only reason that I wasn’t running. I had to take a self imposed five day break. I got, ladies and gentlemen, an injury. After being diagnosed by one of the most respected authorities in medicine, Google, it was determined that I had a shin splint in my right leg.

I ran my 8 miles Sunday, took off Monday and Tuesday, went to go to my speed workout Wednesday, got a quarter mile in and and literally could not bear the throbbing in my right leg. I walked home, crying. Really. I was legit crying. All I could think of was all this hard work was going to be for nothing, that I was done. I was going to end my running career before it even started (I can be a tad dramatic). Hot tears dripped down my face as I hobbled home, defeated.

Casey gave me a much needed reality check. Take five days off, then run, see how it feels. If you can’t run Cooks Forest, you can’t run Cooks Forest. It doesn’t mean you’re done running FOREVER. Turns out, he was right. I took off from Wednesday to Monday, and guess what? I busted out four miles yesterday like it was nothing. My leg felt fine. Whew mother effing hoo.

It appears that for now, my running career is back on (by career I mean recreational hobby. Career just sounds like it has more gravitas. And I love me some gravitas).  My St. Patrick’s Day in the City career may, however, be in jeopardy. I don’t know if I’ve out grown it, or if I’m getting too old, or if…. I think it’s just time to pass that baton.

Girl Who Peed Herself, I deed to you the title of Most Awesomest Day Drinking Chick, Ever. Please take this title, get some self freaking restraint, and don’t piss yourself next year and embarrass us both. I’ve got some races coming up, so if you need any tips or advice, I’ll be over in my ottoman, watching The Voice and rubbing icy hot on my shin. You’re welcome.

Yours in green beer,




6 responses »

  1. I hit that same St. Patty’s Day wall like 5 years ago. I remember it well … I was taking part in a pub crawl, which ended in Station Square. I ended up zealously guarding our table in Hooters, watching people vomit their faces off all around me. It was wall to wall assholelery, and upon leaving, shaking with drunken rage and fury, I decided that it would be my last St. Patty’s Day Celebration. And it has been.

    Now, mind you, I had some pretty epic St. Patty’s day fun over the years. Was stalked one year, met my ex-freak another year, was mooned by some drunk chick on the T, watched another girl get arrested in Market Square when the police confront her boyfriend after he stole some plastic beads, and she opted to attack the cop. I mean, the people watching is staggeringly fun, but I can’t handle wading through the pee and vomit anymore. Hopefully I passed down my baton to some guy who can drink like a champ, yet refuses to drink green beer in whatever venue he finds himself.

    • We should start some old folks’ celebration. Like, a pot luck party with bingo or something. I just can’t get over the toilets… how do civilized people do that?? It was like some sort of a Nat Geo special.

  2. I went downtown Austin early last Saturday with some girlfriends, got through the crowds to make it to dinner and drinks and whoo-hooed our way over to 6th street to see about kissing some Irish boys (my single friend, not me)…got as far as creeping down 5th in our car and I got physically anxious seeing the massive crowds (SXSW and The Rodeo were also happening this past week) of youngin’s pounding the pavement downtown…if it scares you, you’re too old…well I’m too old. I used to frolick down there kneedeep in that crazy, but nuh-uh, not no more! We got the flip outta there…

    BTW, I thought of you when I saw a post for this race, may be up your alley? We have one here but there’s also one in the Burgh…maybe I should make a trip up for it?? Ha!

    Zombies chasing you on the track, health flags and eating brains…awesome!

  3. Ugh…I too, was celebrating another year of St. Patty’s Day in the Burgh on Saturday. And the same thing happened. My range of emotions throughout the day went quickly from excited to bored, tired, feeling old, not nearly enough drunk (and pissed off about it), to just plain old feeling sorry for myself. Ended up back home at 7:00. FML

  4. The Double D on Butler St was offering Kegs & Eggs starting at 7 a.m. I don’t care if you are young or old, being dead drunk at 11 a.m. does not bode well for the rest of the day.


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