Super Bowl weekend

Well, good Lord. What a weekend. I'm going to have to break it down even though I am a bit delirious.

Friday night, my old friend and I drove to the big city to see Mamma Mia on tour. It is by no means the greatest show on earth, but we had a great time, and there's really never a bad time to be had at a musical as far as I'm concerned. It took us about two hours to get there in the already thick game weekend traffic, but we enjoyed our bag of car snacks and reminiscing about the good old days -- honestly, it is so great to have old friends with whom you can laugh when looking back on the very stupid parties you used to have and very stupid boys you used to kiss.

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Very late night, so slept in a little and headed to the farmer's market later than usual ... they were out of my beloved eggs and strawberries and oranges, so I just got some carrots and broccoli and bread. Eventually it was time for the hard part of the weekend, which was hitting the road for a two hour run after not running for two weeks, what with being felled by the swine flu and what have you. I knew I was in no way physically ready for this, but what could I do? It was time, and this race is in three weeks, and there's no more time to screw around! Luckily, it was in the low 50s and sunny, which felt great. The first hour was dare I say semi-pleasant. This run was different for me because I stocked up on things to help me finish it alive, basically. I have been so run down and have not been running at all, and my lungs still ache somewhat from coughing uncontrollably for days on end, so I knew I needed assistance. I bought a 22-ounce handheld bottle and filled it with half water, half powerade. I brought along a few sports jelly beans and a little tube of Gu. I took a sip or two from the bottle every mile and had a bean every other mile or so and shot the Gu at about 6 miles and about 9 miles. I can't say any of this made me feel sensational by any means, but I have to believe it helped on some level, particularly the hydration. The sky became cloudy by about mile 7, and it got colder, and I started feeling extremely lousy. I slowed down by almost two minutes per mile and honestly felt more like I was shuffling than running. I wasn't in physical pain for most of the run other than very achy hips -- although the bottoms of my feet definitely got sore by the end -- but I just didn't feel strong at all. I knew I wasn't going to quit, but it sure wasn't a lot of fun. I made it 10.02 miles with an average pace of 11:59 in the two hours, which I'm going to go ahead and put a positive spin on by deeming it a post-swine flu win. (Looking back ... on my first 10-mile run of my training three years ago, it took me 20 more minutes to run 10 miles. So, I feel pretty good about that. And what do you know, that run sucked, too! Oh, well. Maybe this is just not my best distance.) I am hoping that packing in some solid mid-week runs for the next three weeks will help make me a little stronger ... I've got a 2:20 run this weekend, a 10K race the next weekend, and then the race is the weekend after that, holy heavens. So -- while my training certainly leaves a lot to be desired and I haven't transformed myself into the running machine I fantasized I would have become by now, my hope is that with three eight-milers, a 10-miler, and an 11-12 miler behind me, I can at least run the whole thing and have a good time with my friends on my damn 35th birthday.

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All of this is mindnumbingly boring compared to what happened on Sunday! My friend and I decided we only live once and headed to the big city for the biggest of big games. We left early enough to get to the best brunch place on planet earth just when it opened and settled in for satsuma mimosas, shrimp and grits, shrimp etouffee omelettes, and coffee. Yes, please.

We headed to the Quarter and found a prime spot on a sunny balcony next-door to the Cathedral where we drank more mimosas and watched a dog parade. What is better than a sunny balcony of friendly people and champagne-based drinks overlooking Jackson Square and dogs in Saints costumes? Not much.

The good thing about our day was that we planned not to have plan, and it all worked out so well. We wandered through the thick of things for a while into the afternoon, people watching down the mayhem of Bourbon Street and just having a gay old time. We weren't sure where we were going to settle to watch the game, but when we stumbled on a tried and true oyster house line, we decided it looked like as good a place as any. Plenty of TVs, good food, cold beer, and nice people, both staff & guests, most of whom seemed to be very rowdy and welcoming locals. We got a table right by the front door for excellent street-scene people watching, and we also had great TV views, so it was just perfect! The oyster shuckers were banging merrily behind the bar, the ladies who run the line became our best friends, and we bonded with the folks at the next table, naturally. When we were seated, the game wasn't for more than two hours, so we just started drinking beers and ordering food and one cup and one dish after another, the time flew by ... all in all, over the course of the day and evening, we had seafood gumbo, crawfish hush puppies, red beans and rice, raw oysters, fried shrimp, and fried crabfingers ... it was a bit much, but what else could we do? Pretty soon we were patting our Acme babies, our stomachs full of food and love, and watching the game there was truly so much damn fun.

There was a line out the door the entire game, which seemed a bit crazy, but I think they were trying to watch through the window all the while hoping that some people would get up and leave, which they hardly ever did. Why would they? There was singing and chanting and cheering and hugging and nail biting and spilling and dancing and it was all just perfect if you ask me. By the time the end was near and the win was clear, I don't even know. Tears, embracing, screams about destiny. It was beautiful. I look crazy in this picture, but I don't care:

We poured into the streets and witnessed so much joy. Street musicians with giant brass instruments on corners, blowing their horns and gathering crowds of dancing fans. A girl executing perfect post-game cartwheels across the street with a Santa hat in her hand. People raising their decorated black and gold umbrellas in the air and starting second lines. So much love in the air in that way that is only New Orleans, in that way where you feel like it's the only city on earth. Destiny! Magic.