Does anybody know how to say PR in Spanish?

Congratulations to me -- I was the first blue-eyed, female finisher in the 10k road race called XIII Carrera Popular Intercampus. Oh wait, I was the only corredora con ojos claros. Too bad that wasn't an official divison.

I was also the only runner who had a watch that beeped every mile instead of kilometer. Having markers every kilometer was pretty cool -- you don't have that extra 0.2 after the last marker!

My foreign-ness was obvious from the beginning of the morning. Scared I wouldn't understand the bag drop system en español, I hopped out of my apartment in only a t-shirt (with American words, of course) and shorts this morning.  I preceded to get really embarrassed when an entire running team boarded the Metro next to me in matching sweat suits. I wanted to hide from them with my bare arms and legs.

I appreciated their presence when we got off the Metro though, because I'm not sure I would have found the race without them. I followed their smiling faces to check-in tables, where no one asked for my extra identification because it was obvious I was the girl with the last name "Dolbow" amidst the pages of Fernandez and Garcia.

Finding the starting line was a bit of a challenge also. I thought I was waiting behind it, and I was impressed to see that every single person around me was jogging a warm up instead of just standing stationary. After jogging with them for a while, I realized I was on the wrong side of the starting line and hopped over to the right side, where people were just standing around like normal.

When we all took off, I instantaneously felt the rush of my love for road races. I weaved through the crowds as fast as I could, with the goal of passing every girl I saw. Which wasn't too hard since there were only 250 female runners out of the 2000 participants. (In other words, I didn't see many.) Also, I noticed Spaniards have no shame in cutting corners. I tried to run the full course, but I admit I cut a couple along with them. (Gotta immerse myself in the culture, right?) We ran from one college campus to another, passing through a lot of circular plazas with statues and fountains in the middle, in typical Spanish form.

The first few miles flew by, but around kilometer six I started to fatigue. I missed the American crowds and music speakers to give a pick-me-up. My stomach actually felt a little nauseous as I turned the corner into the last kilometer. I guess cereal and room temperature milk was not the best pre-race breakfast, but hey, I'm living in a world without Clif Bars and bagels.

The breakfast wasn't too bad though because to my surprise I actually finished in a new fastest time! (Just a few seconds under 49 minutes.) And luckily my stomach was back to normal by the time they handed me a little cake that had all the ingredients of a Swiss Roll, but in a different order and different shape.

The highlight was when they handed me a finisher's t-shirt! And they even had special v-neck ones for women. (I would like to extend a virtual high-five to whoever made that happen.)

I am so excited to have a Spanish running shirt now, even if it a slightly obnoxious color.