I like it dirty

Get your mind out of the gutter grosso - I mean running. I have been trying for months to get into the Nike Women's Marathon (the greatest marketing tactic and fund raiser I've ever seen). I entered the lotto for the full the day it opened, then, after not getting in, I attended all the mixers in the city (spending way too much money on Nike tanks I really don't need). The mixers were to get entry into a drawing that happened on the first Nike Club run - today. I still haven't gotten in, bummer (!!) but now I'm not so sure I want to. Maybe that's the bitter side of me, though, acting out for now making it.

The entire race and training is shrouded by excellent marketing and PR. At the training today over 100 girls gathered to cheer each other on, drink Jamba Juice, and try on Nike shoes for a one-mile run. At the end of the run were massage chairs where folks could get foot or shoulder massages - I don't really like being touched in general and the thought of a post run sweaty massage isn't that glam to me.

After 2-hours of cheering clapping pink clad runners, I've decided I like it dirty. I prefer the trails where there's no high five after mile one - instead there are dirty bloody kneed runners passing by gasping "good job" or simply grunting and nodding in acknowledgement that yep, it's a tough trail and good job.

Again, though, I could just be bitter. Had I gotten in maybe I'd be typing now in a pink Nike zippy with feather boa trimmed running socks.