downstairs «

I was recently in Rhode Island for a friend’s wedding. Having never been to Rhode Island before, I was amazed at how beautiful it was. So beautiful, in fact, that I ended up extending my weekend by an extra two days just to soak up as much of it as possible. It was a fantastic weekend, filled with great times and great laughs.

One of the first laughs of the weekend (and possibly by far the best laugh) came on Friday night at the rehearsal dinner. The restaurant where the dinner took place was situated right on the water where hundreds of sailboats were docked. It was a very large restaurant, with an upstairs deck and a downstairs seating area. Behind the seating area downstairs were picnic tables, firepits, and even a stage. After a round of drinks or two, a bunch of my friends and I took a walk downstairs to check out the scenery. We were down there about 10 minutes when we were told to take our seats upstairs as dinner was about to be served.

As we walked toward the wooden staircase, we noticed about 15 restaurant staff members lined up to go upstairs. They started clapping loudly, and it was obvious that they were heading upstairs to embarrass some poor soul by surrounding their table clapping as loud as possible and singing some dorky ass version of “Happy Birthday.” (If you can’t tell by my tone, I HATE when this happens in restaurants. Especially to me.) As the staff members began to make their way up the stairs, the girl in the front of the line totally tripped up the stairs and disappeared amongst the sea of black shirts behind her. Everyone started laughing since, come on, it’s pretty fucking funny when someone falls. What my friends and I didn’t see at first however, until the poor girl stood up and turned around, was that she had been carrying a large chocolate cake up those stairs, and when she fell, she fell FACE FIRST into the chocolate cake. She had chocolate icing all over her face and down her shirt. Her coworkers erupted in even louder hysterics and everyone within earshot turned around to see Chocolate Face. It was hysterical. I’m not sure if it’s one of those “had to be there moments” – maybe it is, but for shit’s sake I know that I was sitting in a restaurant and noticed that the fucking waiters were coming over to sing me Happy Birthday so everyone else can hear, it would make my fucking day to see one of them bite it and faceplant into what was supposed to be my dessert. Awesome.

Each year, the NYC marathon runs right past my apartment. It’s very exciting, not only because the streets are filled with a more diverse crowd of onlookers, but also because it’s Sunday and it’s November and that means there is another sport to get excited about besides football. I’ll get up early, get some coffee, and stand on the sidelines watching people run 26.2 miles while I nurse my hangover and take pictures of their agony accomplishments. My apartment is around the 12 mile marker, so it was pretty early when the frontrunners came by. I watch them on televeision until I see them about 5 blocks away, then I dash downstairs hoping I’m faster than them in order to snap a picture.

Last year, I was not. I didn’t make it in time so I snapped a shot from the bedroom window:

That’s Paula Radcliffe in the front, with the white gloves. She ended up winning the marathon last year.

I almost missed them again this year, but was happy to snap Mrs. Radcliffe at the same moment a year later:

(That’s her in front, again, with the white gloves.)

She ran the last half of the marathon like a machine, pulling far enough ahead of this group to have no threat whatsoever to the victory. I felt excited to have shared such a miniscule moment in time with her, and felt proud to be able to witness it live.

The guys came a little while after the ladies, so I was able to get a more decent shot of them:

The frontrunner here is from the U S and A, but if you look at the guy in the back of the pack in the yellow jersey? He wins. Pretty awesome, right?

They are running so much faster than you could ever imagine if you are watching the race on television. It’s almost like there is a blur behind them they are gone so quickly.

As exciting as it is to watch the fastest runners pass by, it really gets exciting when the rest of the crew catches up. 39,000 runners pass my house during the course of about 3 hours, and the cheers and applause and excitement is enough to make anybody crazy inspire anyone. Seriously.

Congratulations to all of you that may have run in this race, or knew anyone who ran in this race. It is truly a feat and the ultimate test of endurance, and I applaud anyone who can achieve a goal that large.

I feel disappointed in myself. Not because I feel like I need to get in shape and train for a marathon, but because I didn’t have the patience to play paparazzi and sit outside scoping out Ryan Reynolds.

To celebrate them, I’m going to drink a lot of beer, eat until I burst, and watch some football. After all, that’s what Sundays are made for, right?

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