Best. Wine. Weekend. Everrrrrr.
For serious, y'all.
I just returned from a five day getaway to Charlottesville, Virginia. It was bliss. All I did was eat, drink, and run. Please, friends, take a moment to appreciate that: I spent five days guiltlessly indulging in delicious home cooked meals of a fine-dining caliber paired with exquisite wines from all over the world, but I was there to run and run I did.
Momma and Papa Sandvig both decided to accompany me on my journey east. I actually suggested the Patrick Henry Half Marathon in Ashland, VA because I knew they would jump on the opportunity to join me, and it would give them the perfect excuse to visit their best friends in Charlottesville. That's just the kind of daughter I am. You're welcome, Mom and Dad.
We left for Washington, DC early Thursday morning. And when I say early, I mean I was up before 4am. I think our flight was at 7am, but to be honest, I was in such a semi-conscious haze that I hardly remember the details. I think I ate a bagel. After arriving in DC, we hopped in a rental car and prepared for a 2+ hour drive to Charlottesville. And then something funny happened. My mom pulled out a map. A real, old-fashioned, paper road map. We all have iPhones. At this point, I decided to put my needs (i.e. more sleep) aside and play the role of Navigator.
We arrived at Amy and Bill's house early in the afternoon, and we weren't even there for an hour before Bill made us all delicious cocktails from his diverse and expansive liquor selection. I enjoyed a lovely Mint Julep on the patio. It was the best Mint Julep I'd ever tasted. Actually, it was the first time I'd ever had a Mint Julep, but it was everything I'd hoped it would be and more.
And then came the wine.
I'll refrain from going into too much detail about the different wines. If you know me, you know I could go off on a tangent rambling about the wines and the grapes and the cheeses and etc.
Since the race was on Saturday, I had every intention of taking it easy on Friday and mentally preparing myself for the run. After breakfast, I went out with Amy to the vineyard and helped pick some of the chardonnay grapes to take to her wine-maker to test the grapes' sugar levels. Did I mention that Amy and Bill grow their own grapes on their property? Their little vineyard is beautiful. Imagine waking up every morning and seeing a vineyard and rolling hills. Absolutely lovely. Everything was going swimmingly until Bill came home from work and suggested we do a California Pinot Noir tasting with dinner. Four bottles of wine later, my dad and I were on the road to Ashland to stay the night.
When we arrived at our hotel, I was in that perfect state of drowsiness. It was only 9:30pm so I had high hopes of crashing early and waking up nice and refreshed. And as soon as I hopped into bed, I was wide awake. I hate how that happens. The last time I looked at the clock it was 12:15am, which was awesome considering I had to be awake in less than five hours.
Nevertheless, I woke up feeling fine. I wasn't tired, and I wasn't hungover (thank God). It was a dreary morning, cool and damp with a light rain. The weather was absolutely perfect for running. The feeling I had that morning was similar to the feeling I had a few months ago in Madison. In hindsight, I would describe it as a relaxed kind of focus. I wasn't chatty, I wasn't thinking too hard about how I was going to approach the course, but I was in the zone. I was surprised by how many runners were there. I was prepared for a race similar to my New Braunfels one, but this race could not have been more different.
I always listen to music when I race, and I usually make a playlist in advance for raceday. I decided to switch it up and listen to both of Kid Cudi's albums from start to finish. I only mention this little tidbit of information because they are the perfect running albums: solid, steady beats for a long distance run and dark enough to give you something to think about for 13.1 miles. Just a suggestion if anyone's every looking for some good running tunes.
The course was challenging: lots of hills and turns along country roads; however, a steady drizzle kept us cool and refreshed throughout the entire race. I ran most of the race with my dad. We usually don't run together since I tend to start too fast and have him pass me around mile 8 or 9. This time I started more slowly. At mile 9 we picked up our pace and we were on track to crush two hours. And then came the cruel trick of the race-planners. At 11 1/2 miles, the ground started to slope upwards. The whole course had been hills so I approached it hard, ready to take it on and conquer it. But then it just kept going. And it kept getting steeper. At every turn I expected the hill to start sloping downwards but that break never came. That hill sapped the remaining energy out of my tired legs. We passed the 12-mile marker and the hill was still going. I'd estimate that it lasted approximately 3/4ths of a mile. Once I re-calibrated after the monster hill, I was running strong again, and I finished strong. My official time was 2:02.35.
Even though I didn't break two hours, I don't think I could have run that race any smarter or any better. The conditions were perfect, I felt great, I ran hard, and the course was fun. The running etiquette was unmatched, and the race was well organized. I could not have asked for a better race.
Saturday was a perfect day. After the race, my dad and I returned to Charlottesville in time for lunch. We ate mussels on the porch and uncorked our first bottle of wine. We went out to Bill and Amy's "Party Porch," a little screened in abode out in the woods, and played cards. We switched partners, but my team won every time. Naturally. The wine flowed throughout the evening, and we paired it with some home-made pizzas.
We stayed in Charlottesville until Monday, but I won't bore you with more stories of food and wine. My parents were sad to go. It was kind of strange to imagine my parents being my age. I've heard some of their stories, but seeing them hang out with some of their oldest and best friends put things in a different perspective. They tell dirty jokes and reminisce about things that make them seem so normal. I saw a snapshot of my parents' lives from when they were in their mid-twenties.
I can't believe I've finished eight races now. I love that sense of accomplishment when I cross the finish line. My next race is September 23. I'm back in Texas for this one. I'm not sure what to expect at this point, but I just hope the weather in September is better than it was in July. You never really know down here.
Thank you for reading, thank you for the support, and I'll see y'all next month.
For serious, y'all.
I just returned from a five day getaway to Charlottesville, Virginia. It was bliss. All I did was eat, drink, and run. Please, friends, take a moment to appreciate that: I spent five days guiltlessly indulging in delicious home cooked meals of a fine-dining caliber paired with exquisite wines from all over the world, but I was there to run and run I did.
Momma and Papa Sandvig both decided to accompany me on my journey east. I actually suggested the Patrick Henry Half Marathon in Ashland, VA because I knew they would jump on the opportunity to join me, and it would give them the perfect excuse to visit their best friends in Charlottesville. That's just the kind of daughter I am. You're welcome, Mom and Dad.
We left for Washington, DC early Thursday morning. And when I say early, I mean I was up before 4am. I think our flight was at 7am, but to be honest, I was in such a semi-conscious haze that I hardly remember the details. I think I ate a bagel. After arriving in DC, we hopped in a rental car and prepared for a 2+ hour drive to Charlottesville. And then something funny happened. My mom pulled out a map. A real, old-fashioned, paper road map. We all have iPhones. At this point, I decided to put my needs (i.e. more sleep) aside and play the role of Navigator.
 |
| Old-fashioned Momma Bear with her map. |
 |
| Mint juleps |
I'll refrain from going into too much detail about the different wines. If you know me, you know I could go off on a tangent rambling about the wines and the grapes and the cheeses and etc.
When we arrived at our hotel, I was in that perfect state of drowsiness. It was only 9:30pm so I had high hopes of crashing early and waking up nice and refreshed. And as soon as I hopped into bed, I was wide awake. I hate how that happens. The last time I looked at the clock it was 12:15am, which was awesome considering I had to be awake in less than five hours.
 |
| Picking chardonnay grapes |
I always listen to music when I race, and I usually make a playlist in advance for raceday. I decided to switch it up and listen to both of Kid Cudi's albums from start to finish. I only mention this little tidbit of information because they are the perfect running albums: solid, steady beats for a long distance run and dark enough to give you something to think about for 13.1 miles. Just a suggestion if anyone's every looking for some good running tunes.
 |
| Olympians do it... |
Even though I didn't break two hours, I don't think I could have run that race any smarter or any better. The conditions were perfect, I felt great, I ran hard, and the course was fun. The running etiquette was unmatched, and the race was well organized. I could not have asked for a better race.
Saturday was a perfect day. After the race, my dad and I returned to Charlottesville in time for lunch. We ate mussels on the porch and uncorked our first bottle of wine. We went out to Bill and Amy's "Party Porch," a little screened in abode out in the woods, and played cards. We switched partners, but my team won every time. Naturally. The wine flowed throughout the evening, and we paired it with some home-made pizzas.
We stayed in Charlottesville until Monday, but I won't bore you with more stories of food and wine. My parents were sad to go. It was kind of strange to imagine my parents being my age. I've heard some of their stories, but seeing them hang out with some of their oldest and best friends put things in a different perspective. They tell dirty jokes and reminisce about things that make them seem so normal. I saw a snapshot of my parents' lives from when they were in their mid-twenties.
I can't believe I've finished eight races now. I love that sense of accomplishment when I cross the finish line. My next race is September 23. I'm back in Texas for this one. I'm not sure what to expect at this point, but I just hope the weather in September is better than it was in July. You never really know down here.
Thank you for reading, thank you for the support, and I'll see y'all next month. 
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