I don't really have running news to report. I got my butt handed to me at the Chuckanut Footrace. Not only did I get a beat down by two runners, I ran like a sack of turds. I'd like to move past that one if I could.
I do have a few more interesting stories to share. The first one will explain the title. I went to Las Vegas for the third time since October. And it was just as great as ever. But while I was there, I managed to "lose" my drivers license. How did I lose it you ask? Well, here is the not so exciting story:
When you go to CVS to get a double tall boy 24oz Bud Light Lime, they make you take a bag. No plastic bag bans in Vegas. I guess they want to know who is actually purchasing a beverage as opposed to stealing it. And CVS and Walgreens are always packed in Vegas. Its the best place to get beer besides the ABC store or the Grand Canyon store. So anyway, I've got a line of people behind me and the lady ringing me up checks my ID and notices I'm from the same relative neck of the woods. She's from Federal Way. I say "sorry" and we both laugh. That didn't happen, but I thought it. Anyway, the story from this point on is pure speculation. She puts my BLL and Holly's goldfish crackers in the plastic bag. She hands me my ID with my receipt. I shove them into the bag. Then I walk out the door. And right outside the door, one on the left and one on the right, are two garbage cans, for all the people buying booze to throw away their plastic bags that have been in use for all of 17 seconds. Well, I grab the crackers and hand them to Holly, and I grab my tasty beverage, my lips being incredibly parched by the desert heat, and I toss the bag......... and my ID. I didn't notice that I didn't have it until after we visited the Monte Carlo, New York New York, and I was going to purchase my next amazing beverage at the Grand Canyon.
So I'm at the counter and I've got this amazing looking can full of total bitch beer, and I'm super excited to crack it open and drink the watermelon goodness. Except I run into a problem. I can't show the kind gentleman my ID. But he didn't care about my age. Look at me, I have a full beard. I'm of age. He needed to see it because I was paying with a debit card. So I'm in a panic, and there are annoyed people behind me, because everybody wants a shitty malt beverage at the cheapest possible price. And the guy at the counter is rolling his eyes thinking "not again, another dumbass" and he sees the cash in my wallet and tells me I can pay cash. So I paid cash and got the hell out of there. After checking my pockets and everything, I couldn't find the ID. Above is my pouty face. I wasn't happy. Are they going to let me fly home? Maybe this is where I end up just moving to Vegas. But thanks to the magic of the interwebs on your portable smart telephone, Jason was able to check the TSA website. In the first sentence it tells you to not panic. So I decided to get my drink on and not panic.
It was probably a blessing in disguise because I couldn't sit down at any table to lose more money to the man since they often times card you, and I no longer had a card. Maybe Jason should have thrown his ID away also. I did have to have somebody else purchase my beverages for me the rest of the night though. That's always lame.
I know you're all wondering now what the "special screening is." Well I promise you there is no rubber gloves or body cavity searches. They do this to your boarding pass:
That way everybody around you can see that you're a complete jackass. Then you get to the first security guy and he doesn't even flinch. He's seen it before, probably earlier that day. It is Vegas after all. They pass you off to a supervisor who tells you that you can use several other forms of ID that nobody usually carries around. Credit cards and insurance cards don't work. So you have to fill out a form and they call this ID clearing house company. This is what the guy says to me. I call them. They ask me questions to ask you. If you get the questions right, I let you through. If you don't get the questions right, you don't go through. I got the questions right, in record time. They aren't hard. Just remember the address of the place you lived prior to your current residence. Then you get the full pat down for everybody to see by this burly ass bearded dude that would rather be riding his Harley than touching your junk. Then you're free to go. Not a very exciting story.
In other news, I deleted my Facebook account. I got tired of it being connected to everything. They tricked me into using my Facebook account for my Spotify account. Actually there is no other option. I was going to vote for the Next Food Network Star, except I had to use a Facebook app for it. Bullshit. Google+ is a better product even if every annoying 13 year old in the world isn't posting stupid stuff all over it. So I just up and deleted it. So now I don't know how anybody is going to find my blog since that was how most people read it. I've got my solid 12 followers, who I don't even know if they get notified of my new post. I'll put it up on Google+ and Twitter for my 15 friends/followers there. Hey, if you do find it, spread the word. Tell your friends. Its funny stuff right.
Evan Jager, good old Illinois boy set the American record in the steeple today. I think its only his fifth race at the event. Badass. Olympics are only a week away. Duane Solomon (Saucony guy! Booyahtich!) ran a big PR and beat Symmonds at Monaco. I had 3 Bellingham Fit members run between 6:01-6:10 and it was awesome. I'm signed up for the Oregon Wine Country Half on Labor Day weekend, and the Lake Padden Trail Half in October. Training is slow but steady. I think I'm going to be running a 3k at Shoreline instead of the 5k at the Bellingham All-Comers meet in August. I should get a big PR since I haven't run that distance since I got fast. I'm missing out on Ragnar this weekend. It would be fun. I could have filled a last minute spot too, but I'll be happy when I can go to bed like a normal person. But we do have the newest member of the Brooks Hansons Elite group on our team this year. Yeah, 28:08 10k guy. He's got the long legs.
I'd leave you with some Vegas pictures, except that Blogger sucks for adding pictures. So you'll have to imagine how cool it was.
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