A summation of why this weekend (actually just the race) blew.

This is coming a bit late, and most of the world has heard the totality of this story but, because I don't ever want to have to repeat it again, I will let it live on in infamy in the infinity of the internet. (I totally DARE you to say that 5 times fast.)

As I recapped in my work blog post A Lesson in Pride (http://anjasmith.blountblogs.com/) I attempted my third long distance race this past weekend and failed miserably. I dropped out at mile 6. I give all of my excuses on the other blog so I will spare you those, instead, this blog post is going to be about how the cop who picked me up was a jerk. Below is a transcript of the events as they would replay in a dramatic re-enactment:

Setting the scene: I am running, moving at a 4 mile per hour pace, cop car literally riding my ass and just passing mile 6.
Race guy on a bike rides up to me from ahead and says: Are you ok?
Me: I don't know.
Race Guy: You don't look so good.
Me: I don't feel very well.
Race Guy: You need to get into the car (meaning the cop car riding my ass).
Me: (crying) I just don't feel well at all!
I walk back to the cop SUV and go around to the passenger door which the cop opens from the inside. I get in and here the cop talking to bike guy through the window.
Cop: Well where do you want me to take her?
Race guy: Back to the beginning? (with confusion)
Cop: What? That's like seven miles away. (seriously cop? Are you going to follow the race route? It is like two miles away in reality.)
Race guy: Well I will stay with the end until you get back.
Cop: Ok.
Cop then radios in for a backup person to go follow the race route until he gets back. He is driving on the wrong side of the road. And hasn't spoken to me once, let alone seen if I am in any kind of questionable medical condition. We get to the intersection at the end of that road.
Cop: Where do you want me to take you?
Me: If I can borrow a cell phone I can call a ride and you can leave me here.
Cop hands me his cell phone. Never actually looks at me.
I call my parents house, no answer. I miraculously remember my girlfriends cell phone number and she of course, freaks out and I try to tell her where to pick me up. Problem is we are in bumfuck. I lived in Greer for a year and I had no clue where we were. So I say to cop ...
Me: Where is the nearest intersection?
Cop gives the intersection we are at. Blah blah blah blah. So unhelpful.
Me: Is there a landmark nearby I can give her? She isn't from around here ...
Cop: Um. No.
Just then Cris says something about passing Mutt's.
Me: Can you take me to Mutt's?
Cop: Yes.
I tell Cris to meet me at Mutt's and hang up because he is reaching for his phone just as I hear her say she can't actually get to the Mutt's parking lot because of race traffic. Terrific.
We get to the Mutt's parking log. Cop curses that he can't open the door from where he is and gets out to open the door and once I get out promptly drives away. Still hasn't asked me if I am ok ...
So then I start walking in the direction that is most likely where Cris is coming from. Because she can't get to the Mutt's parking lot. About a quarter of a mile down the road I see her sitting in traffic and get in and cry some more.

Way to protect and serve jerk cop. This is why, even though I am not a trouble maker I hate cops. Because they are usually jerks. No offense to my cop friends. :D

I won't ever not prepare for a race again. There were other factors but that was the worst of them. I am already planning my next full marathon, and I will train correctly this time. I know I have it in me! Geez. Other than that the weekend was great!