It seems that we're taught that you must carb load on pasta the night before a race and abstain from all alcohol. A new tradition for this running family began while we were in Iowa and we've been continuing it since.
It was two years ago when we checked in to our hotel in Iowa, which by most standards was supposed to be on the nicer end. The same hotel here in Cleveland is one of the finest in their brand. But this particular hotel in Des Moines was tiny. And I mean super duper, how are we going to sleep here, tiny. When we walked in to the room, there was the bed with a desk on one side of the bed, a nightstand on the other side of the bed, and a dresser at the foot of the bed with the TV on top of the dresser. You could NOT walk AROUND the bed. There was no door on the closet because the bed was too close. Greg immediately went downstairs and asked for a larger room. The clerk told him it was "European style" and asked if he was familiar with that style of room. Clearly, the clerk thought that all Europeans are only slightly larger than dwarfs. When we found out we were not going to be upgraded, he asked for the refrigerator (which was previously requested and nowhere to be found in our room, but needed for Bridget's bottles) and a small microwave. The hotel delivered the refrigerator, placing it in the closet! The microwave was placed on top of the nightstand and then the lamp was placed on top of the microwave. Hilarious! Except Greg did not find it funny. So we went to get a drink. We found a great little Mexican joint, plopped ourselves down, gave Bridget some rice, and Greg and I had the best tasting (and therapeutic) margaritas. And thus began the tradition of a margarita the night before a race.
While in Wichita, having our chips and salsa and salt-rimmed margaritas, we laughed about our Des Moines experience and how a new tradition began!
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