The rescheduled Hidden Peak 6k was this weekend at Snowbird. If you never thought you would see me voluntarily participate in a footrace, you are not the only one. But I did it because Snowbird is my favorite mountain. It's where we had an awesome ski season last year and I had my very first season pass. P has almost gotten me killed on the slopes many times in dangerous situations, and I have, in turn, almost killed him as a result. ROMANCE, you guys.
But yes, Snowbird is GORGEOUS in the fall and Oktoberfest is going on, so it couldn't be a total fail... plus we'd get TEESHIRTS!
My friend Michelle rallied a bunch of girls to sign up for the 6k, so we headed up last Saturday, but it was cancelled due to weather. With two hours until the start of Oktoberfest, we had to come up with a plan...
Huddle in the locker room...
Brittany, Lindsay, Michelle, Anne and me
We somehow consoled ourselves...
Michelle and Anne for the win!
The tram was running sporadically but we didn't want to get stuck at the top if it shut down...
So we headed into the tents when it was time.
Prost! Just like Munich.
On the way out we encountered something amusing. I don't think Herr Balloonmeister realized exactly how hilarious it is to see a long, skinny, flesh-colored balloon being inflated by a dude in lederhosen. Only those of us who'd been hitting the sauce since 10 a.m. would have noticed such a thing.
And because we hadn't consumed enough beer, brats, or latkes we went straight to Michelle's for a post-workout pasta feed. Her home is beautiful and her cooking skills are unmatched. Plus there is always plenty of wine flowing. She is truly the hostess with the mostest.
Lindsay, Brittany, Michelle and Sue
This Saturday was another story. Bright and early, and sunny, yay!
Someone got his season pass early.
I'm an athlete I swear
This race was so annoyingly hard, and so annoyingly UPHILL. I like ski racing better because at least you take the lift UP and then try to go fast DOWN. That is how it should be.
P took some nice pics at the top while he was waiting for me. I was about a year or so behind him, and he didn't even have a number. All that tennis has been paying off.
And here's me struggling to come in DFL (that's dead f-ing last, for the uninitiated).
It was hard. REALLY HARD! I was emotional. Stick-to-it-iveness is not my forte. I even dared internally to compare my struggle with the Von Trapp family fleeing the Nazis in the Alps. (I'm SO Liesl!) Whatever it took.
My mother and I are really into American Girl. It's been *gulp* twenty years since I got Molly. We are really hoping to foster an appreciation for AG dolls in my niece, but who knows. She has four of them, and they haven't really caught on for her yet. In the meantime we still like to admire the catalogs and keep up on our favorite dolls' new outfits. Mom knows I still get excited by things like this:
A new Molly outfit! With a plaid skirt!
I think I smell a Christmas gift.
All those years in school uniforms never deterred my (or Mom's) love of plaid skirts. Which brings me to a more recent interest, Gossip Girl:
Exactly what is it about this show? I wonder if actual teenagers even watch it. I can speak for the twentysomething set when I say it has done wonders for our wardrobes, not to mention our water-cooler (read: internet message board) discussions the next day. I never thought I'd be yearning for all my saucy bow headbands of yore, but that's exactly where I find myself now. Thanks Blair!
Of course, I still think Molly's got it goin' on...
You may know that my main squeeze, P, and I are the very proud owners of a Little Black Dog named Bella.
That's her in Goblin Valley last year!
Bella is a teeny little German Wirehaired Pointer/Black Lab mix who came from a rescue organization before I moved out here. When I arrived, she wasn't too sure about me *cough*wastryingtoruinmylife*cough*. She chomped through my Gucci sunglasses, gnawed through my beloved Eliza B monogrammed flip flops, and left lovely messes for me on the kitchen floor. Soon she realized I was a super cool mom and now we are best friends. Little bitch (ha! she actually is!) still owes me for those Guccis, though...
Anyway, Bella has a dad who is quite adventuresome. He almost killed us all on a float down the Weber River last month, so I should have thought twice before I let him bring Bella on a fishing trip up in Northern Idaho with Uncle Walter last week. This is what happened...
She survived with only a couple scrapes and has been cuddled to extremes by her parents since then.
Cetacean lover. Yacht Rock aficionado. Wearer of boat shoes in the middle of the desert. Devotee of the Preppy Handbook. Junior Leaguer in pioneer country. New England transplant with a lot to say. You know how it is.
