Yup... I did a marathon.
Before and after pictures:












So... the day before, we went to pick up my dorsal (my bib, I think)... and they had this HUGE free "pasta party" with heinous amounts of pasta which was totally worth documenting with fotos. I got lots of lovely free stuff like t-shirts and silly hats that had a battery-operated radio inside it.






So... day of... Julie Ann was ridiculously nervous... I kept myself busy making a playlist during the entire metro ride to the starting line. There were SOOOO many more men than women running. I was more than a little perturbed with there were only 16 porta-potties for 13,000 people... the majority of which were men... so clearly... the BILLIONS of men that were in line to start were pooping when I only had to pee.

Of course we were all greasing up... and here is a lovely picture of me putting vaseline on my arm (Beth was sure to get the aesthetically pleasing tulips in the background).

But let's see... yup... it was hard. It hurt... but it wasn't so much my muscles... but my joints. Knees. Hips. Ankles.

At every water/refreshment stop they offered oil and this crisco like substance to slap on your thighs (or wherever... ew... don't think about that too much)... and also had this spray "icey hot" numbing stuff if you wanted it. The weather was phenomenal. Not too hot at all... 20-24 degrees (celcius, of course)... and absoltuely gorgeous.

The city was phenomenal to run through. Kilometers 30 to 40 were the WORST. (Yes, I'm now thinking in kilometers, at least where the marathon is concerned.) And I was feeling EXTREMELY emotional by the time I got to the last two kilometers and this one man who had already finished was encourging us saying "ya está hecho" meaning "it's already done." Haha... hilarious.

Some guy was annoucing names when you crossed the finished line, and when I crossed listening to my I-pod (the wonderful winning last song happened to be Kelly's "Breakaway"... how beautifully appropriate)... I at first didn't hear mine... so he called it out again and then I turned and he was like "Yeah, Julie!!!" So I threw my hands up in the air and laughed.

They gave us a bag of goodies when we finished as well as a trash bag to keep us warm? (Who knows?) But then, in true Spanish form, they had a GI-normous beer stand available right after the finish line, and men who had finished the race and hadn't even taken off their numbers yet were downing beers. Sick. I hardly wanted anything to eat. But honestly, I was in the best mood. I didn't feel miserable. I felt fabulous. I'll totally do it again. Love this picture of me and Bees at the end... I can't believe she touched me. I had salt cristalized on my face and everywhere from the sweat. And if it looks like I peed my pants... that's just from all the crisco-like oil substance they gave us which was lovely and melted down the inside of my legs. Secret: I love being dirty and sweat when you've done something like that.

THIS is Spain in a nutshell

So I was at the grocery store this morning around 11:00am ... and the man (about in his late 30s) in line behind me had two things on his shopping list which (in my mind) managed to encompass all that is Spain...



- three packages plump (read HUGE) green olives




- one bottle giorgi line "gel fijador" (read styling hair gel... actually the exact same kind that Sylvia asked me to buy her the other day)... plus "gel" is pronounced "hell," so that gives me a little juvenile giggle as well

be fooled not...

What you see in these pictures has nothing to do with what we Americans associate such images... (I don't even want to write it)... but here in Spain has everything to do with Semana Santa (aka Holy Week or the week between Palm Sunday and Easter).

I've had the most a-MA-sing last two weeks with two wonderful visitors from different areas of my life (Heather from the Ranch and Dara from high school in Lexington) who choque-d here in Spain which about made my head explode, but was utterly delightful. Entirely too many things happened to tell in one blog to keep interest in reading and because they've put many pictures on facebook already, I thought I might focus on one thing that didn't quite make being "tagged" to anyone in particular and as you look at these photos you might see why. (Heather managed to capture my standard reaction here.)

So... I had no idea what to expect... Semana Santa is as popular and familiar as the Super Bowl here and Spaniards were shocked that I did not know the "ins and outs" of everything. So I will do my best.

There are maybe around 50 "religious" brotherhoods that do processions from their respective starting points (perhpas a church) and carry ornate pasos (or floats)... generally one representation of Jesus and one of the Virgin Mary... and end up in the Catedral. The parade includes marching bands and hooded nazarenos that we as Americans would only relate to the KKK. They dress in pointy hoods, but come in all colors from white to black to green to purple. They range from all ages (including little children) and sometimes hand out candy and things. They swing balls on incense, carry candles, and even crosses. The parades all take different routes through the city and can last up to 12 hours. There can be as many as 9 processions happening at once. It is a sensation that appeals to every one of the five senses, but after seeing one procession I was good to go. "Got it."

The crowds were absurd. The city completely shut down around them. Soon, Beth, Dara, Heather, and I began using the "procession schedule" as a guide for telling us which routes to avoid as we wanted to traverse the centro to shop and eat rather than to learn where we could see these things. While I believe in the past the processions had been considered very sacred (people would cross themselves while passing a paso), it has definitely been transformed into a more of a cultural tradition that is just an excuse to get together (ie we walked through a wicked thick cloud of pot smoke and Heather got a shot of a kid rolling his joint, yay Spain).

Nevertheless it was extremely interesting and fascinating. Everyone is dressed up and out walking around.

Some of the most classic pictures from the week. You see, Heather is what the Spanish would call sin verguenza or completely shamless, and she would hurl her life into peril and sacrifice herself for the "ultimate photo"... blatantly speaking to Spainards in her charming Southern accented English. "Can I take a photo?" But, I'm completely indebted to her as it did leave me with some priceless pictures I never would have otherwise. My FAVORITE picture is the one of Heather squeeged between these two hooded white kids. But then, this other one where she dragged me and Beth into the photo with her is quite classic as well. Read our expressions:
Beth: "I am so embarrassed, why do I have to stand directly next to him... aaaaaawkward and creepy."
Heather: "Yesssssss... sweet photo op!"
Julie Ann: "Sweet Moses, but at least I have my ice cream with the hooded dude, even if it is cold enough for me to be in a scarf."
And poor Dara had to take that picture... Dara is so much more chill... I had to be the one to take photos of her... note the traditionally dressed woman in the background to the left with the black comb and vail in her hair like a maja from the yesteryear... that was on "Holy Thursday" and maaaaany women were dressed as such, no idea why.

So all in all... Semana Santa was an enjoyable festivity. I want my friends back. Have this be an encouragment and an advertisement for all to come visit. :)