NOT QUITE COMATOSE . . .

... But not quite awake either.

Today, five of my friends from NHF and I participated in the 2005 Hartford Genesis Adventure Race.

No, seriously, what the hell were we thinking?

I am far too tired and my muscles are far too loopy to describe much more of our day ... but some tidbits to be related at a future date -- complete with ridiculous photos -- include: (1) the crushing moment I went novice; (2) the crushing moment my team, Cesar Salad with Chicken, realized the current was against us; (3) the crushing moment we realized that a plastic kayak is f*cking heavy; (4) the crushing moment we understood that running is, like, hard; (5) the really crushing moment when I fell off my bike seat and landed ... ON THE CENTER BAR, still straddling the bike (can I get an "oh sh*t"?) (6) running along what we think was I-91 with traffic whizzing by us at approximately 65 miles an hour; (7) scrambling up rocky highway embankments and skidding down muddy ones on the other side; (8) tromping through brush that hasn't seen a human foot in decades and wondering, "if I die out here, will anyone notice before years pass?"; (9) the weird dude with the sweatshirt and the bike in the middle of the brush; (10) salted almonds, OH, those salted almonds; (11) the moment we realized we only needed to run in order to cross the street before cars hit us; (12) the crucial moment where we had to decide, "do we stop for pizza or not?"; (13) climbing the stairs to the top near the end instead of taking the ramp, just because; (14) making a valiant jog for the finish line even though we had just spent two leisurely hours taking a scenic, if fast-paced, stroll through downtown Hartford (which, incidentally, is utterly boring and desolate and we hate it and we're never going back, EVER, because Connecticut is PURE EVIL and it's HOT there); (15) stuffing our faces with chocolate chip cookies, bananas, potato chips and Gatorade, not caring that JKA was documenting every single moment of our shrunken-stomach gluttony with her camera; (16) watching my gang, forever my brothers in sweat, tears and muscle cramps, cross the finish line; (17) driving home and realizing, "OH MY GOD. I JUST DID AN ADVENTURE RACE AND I LIVED TO TELL THE STORY," then bawling and bawling uncontrollably because I just can't believe myself.

Well, we'll see about living to tell the story. For now, she sleeps, not looking forward to the crushing moment in the morning when she has to get out of bed and realizes she can't move.