Team WKBD

I have no idea how the city of Juneau functioned this past weekend when what seemed like half the population left town to run the Klondike International Road Relay. Half my coworkers, a pediatrician, a European-trained clown, the drug & alcohol prevention specialist, university professors, construction workers... hell, even the guy you'd buy magic mushrooms from, if you're into that sort of thing.

I had two goals for this race:
1. Don't die
And if I managed that remarkable feat,
2. Don't walk my leg, affectionately dubbed the "princess" leg for its easy peesy 8 miles

I'm proud to say I'm still on this earth (thank you 8 pound, 5 ounce baby Jesus), and I ran the entire thing, right calf muscle knotting up and bladder bursting. In the dark. While it was raining. And it was f'ing freezing. Of course, I felt like it was 100 degrees what with all the heat my body was unaccustomed to generating, but every once in awhile when a support vehicle's headlights shone behind me, I could see my breath coalescing into crystals of anguish just to remind me what a crazy fool I was.

As soon as I finished and handed off to the next sucker - shouting, "Snakes on a plane!" - one of my teammates lit me a cigarette and another one gave me a beer. People looked at me in awed disgust, but that's how I roll.

In Whitehorse, Canada, my friends and I went buck at the superstore because we can't buy certain necessities at our good ole Freddie's, such as shower curtains that aren't poop brown, Aero chocolate bars, and vibrating rings.

More later...
May the forece be with you always,
Princess Leg-a