Last night�s race was really crappy, and it wasn�t just because I was huffing and puffing my way through it. I blame part of the huff-and-puff routine on the event coordinators, as much of the race was underground (read: 90-degrees and no breeze), and the water stations were poorly prepared for the crowd.

I completely missed the first water station, as it was hidden by an Elvis impersonator performing at the second of several concerts along the course. By time I was looping and lapping around Wacker�s underground, I thought I was going to puke from dehydration.

There�s no physical fitness reason why I should be ready to walk after only a few miles. I made it through the entire half-marathon without walking (except to sip water) a mere month ago. I haven�t caught pneumonia since then. No sign of the SARS. None of that West Nile here either. But when the heat and the lack of water are taken into account, I might as well have Ebola according to how out-of-it I was.

When I finally came up to the second water station and saw there was no water, I almost cried. Others were just as frantic, and a lone jug of water found in a pile of empties was quickly snatched and shared among strangers. Forget that parable about turning bread into fish and water into wine -- we just needed water.

I eventually happened upon some and headed outside for the last half of the race. As soon as I made the turn to the lakefront path, the crowd bottleneck halted everyone. Most of the rest of the race continued on a crowded 10-foot wide path, but there was at least air circulating now.

At the end of every race I run, I give a good sprint to finish it off, knowing that�s that once I cross the finish line and that I�ll easily be able to get cold water after my timing chip is removed. After the logistics errors throughout the entire race, there�s no reason I should have had such high hopes.

On the homestretch I picked someone a little ahead of me, and I kicked it up to finish out the race. Once she saw that I was passing her, we actually raced. I won. It felt really good to finish it off that way.

I made myself over to the timing chip collector and then headed to the end of the corral where the cold water usually is. No one�s cruel enough to end a race without water, but this race didn�t even attempt to cool it down. I ended up with a cold mini bottle of Propel sports drink, which promptly got thrown out when I tasted what can only be described as grape Kool-aid made with fake sugar.

After the race, a friend and I walked back to the area around my condo and looked fruitlessly for food. After conceding that my hood isn�t actually a neighborhood, he hopped the el back to his place, and I ended up with something frozen from the 24-hour White Hen convenience store.

I didn�t find sleep easily that night, and I woke up roughly this morning. Sadly, that exhaustion has carried throughout today.

I want nothing more than to go home to a clean house (I�m working on it), eat some dinner (I haven�t been grocery shopping in over a month), and snuggle up to sleep with Benito (also, nope).

He�s been working like mad for the past few months, and it�s now even worse. The end is so so so near, but it�s hard to see it when so much is consumed in the immediate present. I want to do something -- anything -- to lighten his load or brighten his day, but there really isn�t much I can do for him.

Add to this that I�m hormonal, tired, and having the blahs... I feel like a needy, whiny girl, and that�s got to stop.

Ugh. I�m ready for this to be over.

Tonight�s big and exciting plans involve some grocery shopping, followed up by plenty Pinesol, Windex, and elbow grease. I can at least do something about two of the three wants on my list.

Well, off to home to change before heading to the store. G�nite all.�