Austin Half Marathon – Its Happening

The Austin Half Marathon is a great excuse to visit this incredible city.  And, the race conveniently starts and stops right on Congress Avenue in the heart of Austin.  I have a lot of fun memories from this trip.  My favorite memory (and funniest) is the reason for the name of this blog.  Take a quick preview of this scene from the movie Bridesmaids entitled, It’s Happening.  Then, its buyer beware.  Please proceed with the utmost caution as you continue to read this blog.

Fantastic Food & Beer

There are so many amazing places to eat in this city!  And, I love the energy on Congress Avenue.  I cannot remember all the places we went but I know we started with dinner at Second Bar & Kitchen.  The next day we wandered down to Rainey Street where there are a ton of fun bars and restaurants.  We stopped in for a beer tasting at Craft Pride.  Rainey is perhaps my favorite street in all of Austin, so cool.  We booked a room using points up at the Sheraton on 11th Street and even from there, everything is within walking distance.

One word of advice, make reservations well in advance for this weekend!  Things fill up quick!

Mommy, The Floor Tastes Icky

The night before the race we left our son Gage, who was 2 1/2 at the time alone for a few minutes.  My wife Amy walked into the bathroom to see him licking the bathroom floor.  Yup.  And, then he spoke the unwavering truth of, “Mommy, the floor tastes icky”.  Kids are great aren’t they?

Race day was a bit rough.  I didn’t sleep all that well as a result of the allergies.  And, I had my normal pre-race nervousness.  For some reason I always fear I’ll be late to the start line.  Worries be damned, I got to the race start way too early and tried to keep myself occupied by wandering around.

The morning breakfast included a full dose of cold medicine and I was popping sugar free cough drops left and right.  Needless to say, my stomach was not in the best of shape.

It’s Happening

The race started like all the others however, around the first mile marker, my stomach problems had worsened substantially.  It became clear very quickly that I was not going to make it too much further without a bathroom.  Fortunately, this is a well planned race and right around the mile 2 marker there was a bank of porto’ potties.  I just about kicked in the first door I saw and as quickly as I could, prepared myself.  As we all know, you don’t touch anything in a porto’ potty.  The goal is to make no contact what so ever.  Because I’m smart, I squatted over the potty and let it go.

Phew!  Man I felt much better and that was damn close.  Once “that feeling” subsided, I pulled myself together, pulled my pants back up and surveyed the scene.  That’s when HORROR and SHOCK consumed me.  I had completely missed the potty opening and “it” was all over the back wall.  What do I do?  Clean it up?  With what, how, no way that was going to work.  Okay, here’s the plan.  Run out of the porto’ potty as fast as humanly possible so I cannot be connected with the scene of the crime.  Perfect plan.

I unlocked the door and flung it open.  And, there stood not 1 foot away from me a tall, fit, good looking runner gal who barged in right behind me.  I turned my head and ran like the white lightning of old.  I was mortified and wondered endlessly what she must have thought.  What was her reaction was to seeing this mess?  Around mile 3, my horror turned into pure hysterical laughter.  You have to admit, its pretty ridiculous.

Post Race & A Rastafarian Uber

As soon as I crossed the finish line, I collected my medal and my family and said, LETS GO!  There as no way I wanted to run into that gal.  For the life of me I cannot remember what she looks like aside from the earlier description.  Somehow I think she might remember me.  Perhaps she’ll read this blog one day.  Who knows.

At this point you’d think the fun was behind us.  But wait!  There’s more!  I had convinced Amy that using Uber was a killer idea and on the way in, it was.  Big SUV, good pricing, put the car seat in, no problem.  The way back to the airport?  Not so much.  A little itty bitty banged up car pulls up with a tall Rastafarian looking black guy driving who smelled a tad like weed.  There I am with my wife and a 2 1/2 year old and a car seat I need to buckle my son into.  My wife was none to pleased.  We’ll never know if the Uber driver was stoned or not but he did drive well below the speed limit the entire way to the airport and seemed like a very nice guy.  Time for a beer (or two, or three).

For now goodbye Austin, we love you and we’ll be back soon!