A childhood dream realized! I'm doin' the Puyallup!

Like a lot of people who grew up in western Washington, I see the Puyallup Fair as an annual tradition. And, no, I don't care that it's been renamed the Washington State Fair. It's simply THE Fair to me.

I try to go every year, and I love it every time. I love seeing the biggest dairy cow, the biggest bull, and the biggest pumpkin; voting for the best grange display; eating food on sticks; watching the hucksters (to whom I mean no disrespect with that label!) selling their wares; cheering at the draft horse show; and trying to decide if *this* is the year when we'll finally buy that wooden sign for our house. Oh, and the people watching.

And I love the Hobby Hall. Every year I walk through it thinking, "some day I'll submit one of my collections" ... but I never do. Until now.

I submitted my paperwork not long before the deadline; first completing an online application, then sending in photos of my collection... And then I waited. And then I got THE LETTER!!!

And then there was panic. I had been assigned a "medium case", dimensions approximately 4 feet high by 6 feet wide. OMG, would I have enough medals to fill it? 

I pulled all of the medals off the picture rail in my office, and lay them down on the floor ... 

Well, yes, I *do* appear to have enough medals. And then some. But then the problem of how to display them? I pretty quickly came up with the idea to have some wooden supports with hooks in them, with curtain rods resting on the hooks. I realized the structure would be even stronger -- and allow for a better "tiered" display if I leaned it back on the wall ... and then I realized that I didn't need a "back" and "feet" ... I could use the case itself to support the display.

I used my 9th-grade geometry skills (Mrs. Nixon, I know you were smiling down on me!) to sketch out the support, figure out the length of the hypotenuse (yeah!), and the correct angles so that the boards would lean evenly against the back wall and the floor. A trip to Home Depot with some precarious lumber hauling, some help from Eric and his Very Big Saw, and I had the support boards ready to paint.

if you look closely, the boards say STUD

A lick of black paint later, and it was time to get the hooks on. I decided just to put one coat of paint on the boards, which left them with a "stained" look that I liked.

Okay, the "getting the hooks on" part was ... rough. Our ancient drill seems to have finally given up the ghost, so there was a night-time trip to Home Depot to buy another drill, some cursing, and such ... but I did get them on, along with some anchor brackets on the feet, and then tried it out on a wall in our bedroom. Woot!

Honestly, I can't tell you how satisfying this was!

Then yesterday I loaded up my car with tools, the boards and rods, a bunch of fabric for a background, and a whole lotta medals and drove down to Puyallup. I was super nervous and excited ... when the security guard met me at the gate, I could barely explain what I was doing there and why. I'm guessing he's seen it all before. I got a parking pass and was told to just drive around to the Hobby Hall.

I parked across the "road" from the Hobby Hall, trying to stay out of the way because I knew I would be there more than an hour.

The Hobby Hall ladies welcomed me with a smile -- gave me my paperwork and two one-day passes to the Fair (a nice surprise!) and showed me to my case, #38.

First I staple-gunned fabric to each side and just around both back corners. I cut the fabric a little longer than I needed to so that I would have some overlap on the bottom.

I then installed the support pieces, quickly bolting them to the floor and installing the top hook on each one (which, because of the length of the screws, actually was bolted to the back wall too). The side supports were just a little way from the side walls to allow for room on the rods, and I just drilled through the fabric.

Then I staple-gunned the fabric to the back in two sections, overlapping it around the center support. I left the fabric long so that I could drape it on the bottom of the case and cover the brackets. I seriously can't tell you how relieved I am that it all worked and looked nice and clean.

The case next to mine (playing cards) was partially decorated when I came in, but there was no one else who came in to set up their cases until midday on my side.

Then it was time to start hanging up the medals. I had some some rough organization at home, just for a sense of what should go where, and had decided that the first two rows should be my runDisney medals. What's funny is that, as I was working, the Hobby Hall ladies would come by to check in, see how it was going, whether I needed any help, etc., and one of them told me later that she thought my collection was of Disney stuff. Well, looking at the top row, I can see why!

I had decided that rather than try to hide the ribbons, I would just use them as added color on the background. So each medal is pinned by its ribbon and hangs off the rod.

The two runDisney rows done, I turned to my Rock 'n' Roll Marathon Series medals -- apparently I had enough not to need to feature multiple "Heavy Medals" (earned for running two or more events during a year) ... in fact, I wasn't able to display either of the new series of Heavy Medals. And since RnR medals tend to be a little smaller than the honkin' runDisney medals, I was able to "stagger" them a bit and put more of them on the row.

Then I decided to display some "unique" medals, such as my two glass medals (Wineglass Half and Center of the Nation Full Series medals), my wooden medals (Oak Barrel Half, Lakefair Half, Grandpa's Half Bone, Grandpa's Wish Bone, and Run Like the Wind Half), the funny painted metal  medal from Hartford Half; our Mainly Marathons series medals; the massive Sage Rat Run medals, and then some other fun ones (Beat the Blerch, Valley of the Trolls, Inca Trail, Caribbean Running Cruise, Chips 'n' Salsa).

On the fifth row I decided to feature a bunch of my "50 States Challenge" medals, in no particular order ... along with a few from Seattle.

And then in the sixth and final row, a bunch of other race medals, mostly from Seattle. Phew!

Then came the big decision ... do I keep it simple, like this? Maybe add in my Half Fanatics and Double Agent shirts? Or do I add some of my race bibs?  In the end, I went for adding a bunch of my favorite race bibs, along with my HF and DA shirts. Originally I tried safety pinning the bibs to the fabric on the sides, but that was too difficult, so I pulled out my handy staple gun again and just attached them that way.

And that, my friends, is my medal display. Gaudy? Oh yes.

The Puyallup Fair .... okay, Washington State Fair ... runs from September 2 - 25 (closed Tuesdays). The Hobby Hall doesn't need to be your first stop -- by all means, get scones or a crusty pup first -- but do swing by and check out all the quirky collections.

Pi Day 5K Race Report

Saturday was Pi Day. Not just any Pi Day -- this year was PERFECT Pi Day: 3.14.15. So we celebrated in style. Several weeks back, Meredith sent out a note to the team, encouraging us to help test a new system by signing up for a virtual race. She even offered to cover the event fee. Well okay then! So I signed up for the Pi Day 5K virtual race and then essentially put it our of my mind.

Then a couple of weeks ago I received a Priority Mail envelope stamped "Pi Day 5K" that contained a very handsome medal, a very good-looking shirt, a really nice bib, a "pi" sticker, a Luna bar, and even 4 safety pins. Quality swag!

I kenw we needed to run not just a 5K, but a bit longer -- 3.14 miles. I mapped out a route, but knew it would be totally dependent on the vagaries of the GPS.

On Saturday morning we laced up and then milled about... Why? So we could start at precisely 9:26a.m.  (I really couldn't tell you the seconds...) 

We ran out towards the lookout, but turned back early so as not to go too far. Amusing to run an old route -- like revisitng an old friend.

But getting the distance juuuuuuuust riiiiiiight was delicate work. So, yeah, that was us trotting down the sidewalk, staring at my phone, so we didn't overshoot the mark.

The pace was slow, but not bad for our first run in forever. I'll still call it a result. 

And then, for Pi Day, of course we ate pie -- I had picked up two broccoli and cheese pies as well as a salted caramel apple and a rhubarb pie from, well, Pie in Fremont. 

To quote Andie McDowell in "Michael", "My oh my, I love pie."

Monday Motivation x2

#1: Tatyana McFadden, who won the women's wheelchair division of the New York marathon on Sunday... Having also won the Chicago, Boston, and London marathons this year. Total badass!

#2: Nowhere near the same level, but... Check out the 2013 Wine and Dine Half Marathon medal!

Rock 'n' Roll St. Louis half marathon race report

After a night with too many interruptions / distractions (Cards game lasting a little long, noisy neighbors partying next door from 2:15 - 3:00 a.m., and a fire alarm in the hotel at 5:20-something which meant we stood with our fellow guests in our jimjams for a while....); we arrived at the race start a tiny bit worse for wear.

We stopped at the VIP area -- sadly, no heaters -- where I made a game time decision not to bring the LSD Lite jacket and just wear my long sleeve over a tank.  I dropped off my bag and we headed to the corrals. I found a gap in the fence so we decided to just wait till our corral advanced. 

By this point it was almost sunrise - oooh, pretty!

I hope people don't get tired of seeing the Arch. It's spectacular, and every time I see it it makes me happy. I love that we had view of the arch from our room on this trip, and that we had a chance to squeeze in a quick ride to the top before the expo opened on Friday. 

But enough about the Arch for now... we were getting ready to run!!

The corrals moved forward quickly, so we started only about 10 minutes behind gun time. The start of the course ... and, actually, a lot of the course ... had lots of quick turns, so I soon lost D in the crowd. 

I had decided to try and run 5:1 intervals throughout the race, though I did run the first mile straight through. We ran past Busch Stadium, quiet but surrounded by media vans. Then back around past the Arch (well, parallel to the Arch a few blocks west) before turning east away from the river. 

Things get a little fuzzy here. We passed a historic district with a couple of grand old theaters, including the Fox theater. At one point we ran through a sweet gay-friendly 'hood with some bars and restaurants. At one point we ran down a street lined with some beautiful old homes. And at one point we ran past the university. 

The course lacked any serious hills, but had lots and lots of rollers. I kept up my intervals pretty well, though I missed having my loud watch. I think time goes by faster when I don't have to look at the watch!

I hadn't expected much from myself this race -- three days in the expo isn't the best pre-race workout. But I actually felt pretty good until mile 10. I can't say that I fell apart or anything, but I probably walked as much as I ran in the last mile. Still, I was pleased to finish somewhere around the 2:18 mark, since I was a little worried I wouldn't make 2:30. 

I crossed the line, got my medal, a Mylar sheet, and some chocolate milk before heading over to the VIP tent. Heartbreak: no mimosas this year. WHAT?!? So sad. But I had some mac n cheese, potato chips, veggies, and hummus, so I was pretty pleased with my lot. 

Nice things about the race: we got to see a lot of St. Louis; there seemed to be lots of bands; people were friendly; water stops were well stocked; and there were no major hills. And I got to see a new potential favorite sign: SMILE IF YOU JUST PEED A LITTLE. 

Less nice things: we didn't get to have a shot with the Arch in the background (both the course layout and the sun conspired against that); we didn't get to run by or over the Mississipppi at all; we didn't get to run through the Loop neighborhood. 

It seems fitting in this World Series town that we even got a Cardinal on our sweet medal:

Alpine Races Half Marathon race report

New day, new state. Drove to Lake Zurich, Illinois last night so I could run the Alpine Races Half Marathon.

Having run relatively fast yesterday, I wasn't sure how today would go. My main goal was to finish, ideally in under three hours. But considering how sore I was when I woke up this morning, well, that felt like a big challenge.


I stayed across the street from the start at Paulus Park, which meant I could saunter across the street 20 minutes before the start, pick up my packet, check a bag, and get ready to run.

It was stormy overnight, but the day was bright and cool. And isn't Lake Zurich pretty?

There were lots and lots of runners milling about. I spent some time trying to loosen up my legs -- apparently it didn't occur to me to stretch out my quads yesterday. Sheesh. Anyway, soon it was time to start, and the runners lined up on the path behind the line. One sad thing -- the race wasn't chip timed, so I was 30 seconds behind from the get go. (Ha ha.)

But we ran out and I tried to settle in to a rhythm. I decided to be disciplined and run/walk 5:1 intervals from the very start. Or at least as long as I could. After about a mile I felt a bit looser, but the field was small enough that I was soon running with only a few people.

The course ran through neighborhoods as well as along the lake. Pretty, but unremarkable. It was also surprisingly hilly. Not hilly like Seattle, of course, but lots of rollers. But pleasant enough. There were also lots of water stops, which meant I got to take extra breaks. Yay for extra breaks.

I got to mile 5 feeling pretty good, which made me think of the 5 miles + 5 miles + 5 kilometers breakdown. I also got to mile 5 just after being passed by the front runners on their way back. Yeah, they were more than 3 miles ahead of me at that point.

Miles 5-8 were around a loop through some more big houses (potentially a golf club?). I was bored and tired -- but that's more my fault than anything else. I just kept running and walking and moving along.
As I got close to mile 8, I saw a woman walking the wrong way on the course. She was wearing a half marathon bib, which confused me, because I didn't think I'd been there before. But then I saw that the sign -- about a block away -- had been blown over. When I got to the guy standing at the mile 8 marker I said, "A woman missed a turn on the course -- she's going the wrong way." He looked up the street -- she was barely visible -- but didn't say anything. I said, "She just missed the turn -- because the sign is blown down and there's no volunteer there." He just shrugged and said something like, "Well, she wasn't going to win anyway."

Now, I assume this guy has a radio -- or could have asked someone else to go after the woman. But he didn't. I hope the woman didn't get lost, or that someone pointed her in the right direction. I feel bad that *I* didn't go back to help.

I've been that person at the back of the pack, feeling tired and lost. I just hope she didn't get too lost, and that she was able to finish the race. Hopefully there was some sort of course sweeper that made sure she got back to the finish line.

Anyway... I made my way back to the finish line, taking shorter runs and longer walks, but moving. I was really happy to get back to the lake!

The last two miles passed slowly. I was in a little clump of runners all slowly getting to the finish, swapping "leads" and, somehow, encouraging each other. I can't tell you how happy I was to see the big purple arch.

At some point I was trying to calculate my estimated time. I decided that I couldn't possibly beat yesterday's time, so I should just take it easy. And then I decided that, even if I walked, I would be able to finish under 2:30. But, somehow, as I approached the finish, I saw that it was just over 2:23. I guess if I had pushed it a little bit, I would have beaten yesterday's time. Oops.

I crossed the line in 2:23:43 (gun) / 2:23:29 ("chip"), feeling much the worse for wear. I picked up my "breakfast bag" (well stocked with yogurt, bagel, cream cheese, orange juice, trail mix, a granola bar, and an apple), my checked bag, and then just slowly trudged back to the hotel for a hot bath.

Not my finest performance -- even if the time was pretty good. Most important, of course, is picking up state #22 -- Illinois!!!

Oh, and I can't forget to share this pic of the race shirt... a day-glo hoody!

well, it will be a colorful addition to the next race quilt...

Run For Your Lives race report

Last weekend Wil and I ran the Zombie Run in Seattle -- a fun enough, if underwhelming, zombie-themed 5K. This weekend, however, I had roped my LSF (long-suffering friend) Suz into doing the Run For Your Lives 5K with me -- as a ZOMBIE!!!

We signed up for the middle shift -- 10:45 - 12:45, or something like that -- because the race itself was being held in the back of beyond... somewhere called McCleary, that's southwest of Olympia. In addition to the 90-minute drive, we also needed to arrive two hours before our shift so we could be turned into zombies...

Suz picked up up a little before 7 -- and she burst out laughing at the sight of me. See, I didn't just want to wear street clothes... even street clothes that I didn't want anymore. So I went to my local Goodwill the day before and picked up a very handsome leopard-print nightie and some curlers. Add some fluffy "slipper socks" over my running shoes, some running shorts (so I didn't flash anyone -- I figured I would be scary enough...), and a ratty black bathrobe, and I was ready to go.

We drove and drove and drove... but traffic was light and we made good time. We weren't quite sure what to expect when we got there... would there be signs? Gold star for the organizers -- there were large banners out on the highway so it was easy to spot. And you know how I appreciate good signage!!!

We turned into the driveway and joined a small line of cars. Gold star number two: they were super organized with how they took the parking fees. As zombies, we actually even got free parking. Woot!

The parking itself was a little painful -- I'm always amazed at just how long it takes to get cars parked in a field -- but within a few minutes we were out of the car and on our way in. I vacillated a bit on whether or not to wear my bathrobe, knowing it would get destroyed, but in the end decided I would rather have the extra warmth. It was a very good call.

First we stopped at the waiver tent, signed the documents, and then got our "packets" -- a black wristband with our zombie zone number on it and a little card with zombie rules printed on it. Humans received race bibs, too.

Then we joined the line at the Zombie Transformation Center, right on time. It was interesting to see what other zombies-to-be were wearing. Humans were standing around watching the transformations... it was a little like being in a zoo.

wardrobe

First stop was wardrobe, where 4 or 5 guys with various knives and cutting blades shredded clothes. Slight demerit here: it hadn't occurred to us that we would need to take off the clothes we wanted shredded... I think a lot of other zombies had the same issue. But I handed over my bathrobe and they went to work.

Then we went to the next stop -- the makeup line. Chaser zombies -- the ones who would actually be running after the humans -- got less makeup because they were "fresher". Stumbling zombies, like us, got more attention because we were more decomposed. Ewww. 

Some zombies, including both of us, were given prosthetic scars. First they cleaned our skin with rubbing alcohol, then glued on thin latex "scars".

Suz having her scar applied

Ouch!

hmm, am I allergic to latex?

Then on to the next station, where an artist used an airbrush to apply a green-grey-yellowy base pallor.

greenery yallery, Grosvenor Gallery (shout out to my G&S fans out there...)

The next artist airbrushed on contour -- hollowing out our cheeks, under our eyes, etc.

Suz getting contour -- which looked AWESOME!!!

Then a third artist applied "mud splatters" and general dirt by flicking dark paint off the end of a stiff brush.

it's VERY DIFFICULT to get this much makeup off!!

The final stop in the tent was for blood, where Suz and I got sticky dark "blood" on our scars as well as in other spots on our faces. Gory goodness! The masterpieces:

Suz -- looking properly zombified

Sunny - looking a bit worried

We had 45 minutes before our shift, and 30 minutes before the "blood throw" ... so we were allowed to leave the zombie pen and wander around the party. Humans from the first waves had already finished, music was playing, and nervous humans were waiting for their turn to start.  We wandered over to a hill overlooking part of the course -- a series of wide dirt "lanes" with hairpin turns and plenty of hills. In the distance we could see the "smokehouse" -- essentially a giant tent, filled with smoke and live wires with low-voltage electricity. There was also a covered grandstand that occasionally had streams of humans sprinting across it. But we couldn't see much else.

I kept forgetting that we were in full makeup -- we posed for several photos and chatted about the "transformation" with humans. But soon it was time to go back to the pen and get bloody.

ye olde buckets of blood

the blood line...

We joined a line of zombies trudging slowly toward a splattered tarp and some muddy ground, where one of the artists reached into a 5-gallon bucket and threw handfuls of red, sticky goo at each of our fronts and backs. The splat -- when it hit you -- was cold, and surprisingly gelatinous. Clearly not just corn syrup -- it must have had some gelatin in it. But it was sticky an somewhat uncomfortable. Ewwww.

blood thrower!

Shortly thereafter we received our zombie instructions. First the obvious -- no actual human flesh eating. Some zombies threw up their hands and stormed out. (Just kidding.) Then some talk about basic safety -- no tackling, punching, biting, etc. We were also told to look out for overly aggressive humans, and that if we saw -- or experienced -- a human hitting or knocking down a zombie, we were supposed to report it to the course monitors. In either case, the offender would be removed from the course and escorted off the property.

life flag

Then we were told that we also had to let some of them live. (Zombie groans and grumbles.) Each human is issued a belt with three "life flags" attached to it, which they wear while running the race. The belt is kind-of like a flag football belt, with vinyl flags attached with strips of velcro. Zombies are scattered along the course in various zones, and our job is to try and take the flags from the humans. Humans who finish the race with at least one life flag receive a "survived" medal, while other runners receive an "infected" medal. But, because humans are sad when they don't "survive", we zombies were instructed to let some people live.

We had guidelines... in the first mile, or zones 1-4, zombies could take no more than one flag. Scare the humans, sure... let them feel like they had outrun a zombie, sure... but keep 'em alive. Zones 5-8 (the second mile) could go for a second flag, but not take anyone's last flag. And for those of us in zones 9-12, we could take last flags... but not on every human.

Eventually we were split into our zones and walked out to the course. We were told not to get greedy and take any flags while we were en route to our zones... and at one point a large "herd" of us had to cross the course while a few humans were running... and I heard one say, "Oh, wow. That's so unfair."But we let him live...

Our zone was the dirt hills that we had seen earlier. Convenient for us, though it would have also been fun to see some of the other parts of the course. Suz and I were sent with another two zombies to a flat spot at the top of a small hill. As stumblers, we weren't allowed to chase the humans, and the chasers in the flat just before our hill weren't allowed to chase humans up the hill.

We took our positions and waited. After a few minutes, our first few humans came stumbling through. My first thought was how tired they all looked -- how muddy, tired, and frankly defeated they looked. Even just running up the little hill to our perch seemed to totally gas people out. Not that that stopped us from launching attacks.

(maniacal laugh, maniacal laugh...)

I don't know which of us got the first flag... but soon each of us had several. I'm not gonna lie -- there was some zombie high-fiving going on... and I don't think I was alone in letting out a war whoop after one particularly satisfying grab. Sometimes I would lunge at a human who would change direction - right into Suz's path. Sometimes Suz set them up for me. It was pretty fun. Some of the humans gave up their flags really easily -- others were bound and determined to hold on to them. Some humans essentially cheated by putting on their belts under long shirts, so the flags were mostly hidden. Still others decided to wear their flags in what the organizers described as the "swimsuit area", thinking that that would deter zombies. Well, no...

A few humans tried to hold on to their flags with their hands -- but the course marshalls were clear about this -- humans couldn't just grab and hold their own flags. Some humans were smart, gathering in groups before running though a zombie area. Some teams actually organized themselves so that humans with flags were protected by those who had lost theirs. (Smaaart.) Other humans got more aggressive and pushy. Some hit out pretty hard trying to keep us away from their flags. Others almost tackled zombies.

I don't want to imply that the zombies were all pillars of the community... one of the chasers near us was overly aggressive and frequently broke the zombie rules. But for the most part, the zombies seemed to be having a good time. Our little group even encouraged "lifeless" humans who passed us, telling them they were in the last mile and that they were doing great. Sometimes when we took someone's last flag, our group would quietly chant "one of us... one of us...". Hilarious.

So we happily hunted for about an hour. But at one point, while pulling a flag, I felt a sharp pain and then nothing. After pocketing the flag, I looked at my left hand.

I don't have a picture... but.. well... basically my ring finger wasn't straight anymore. Somewhere below the top knuckle it took a strange left turn. I couldn't figure out, at first, what was going on. I mean, why was my finger shaped like that?

Then I think my inner child kicked in... and I thought, "Oh, wow.. that's broken. I have to fix it, or I'll get in trouble."

So I reached down with my right hand and pulled my finger straight.

My initial thought was, "Well, okay, I fixed that. I totally just fixed that."

But then something wiser in me said, "Umm, no. It's still wobbly."

I should quickly point out that all of that happened in about 3 seconds. I stood there flexing my hand a little... and then turned to Suz and said, "I think I just broke my finger." I think she thought I was kidding... but then looked at me, looked at my hand, and said, "Really?" I'm not sure who said it -- probably clever Suz, though she (as Long-Suffering Friend) may have still been trying to figure out if I was serious -- but I think I said, "I'm taking my ring off and putting it in the zip pocket of my shorts."

In the intervening days I have A) felt like a total badass for straightening my own finger and B) felt like a genius for remembering to take off my wedding ring before my finger swelled up.

I stood around for a few minutes, sorta wondering what to do. As a rule follower, I felt weird about leaving before my zombie shift was over. (Yeah, I know. Dumb.) But I decided that -- if Suz didn't mind -- I'd quite like to go to the medical tent, please.

We said our farewells to our fellow zombies and made our way to a young race official. I said, "Hi... I broke my finger." He looked, said, "Do you want me to call someone?" and when I said, "Well, I just figured I should tell someone that I was leaving my post early." He then fiddled with his radio and called in a "WHITE FLAG... ZONE FOUR... BROKEN FINGER..."

We stood there for a few minutes while I felt increasingly stupid. Suz suggested we could just walk to the medical tent, seeing as it was next to the Zombie Transformation Center. The official hesitated, but when I assured him I could walk there unaided, said that he'd tell whoever turned up that we had gone to the tent.

On the way there Suz spotted an official-looking guy talking into a radio. I thought I heard him say "White flag", so I asked him if he was looking for a zombie with a broken finger. He took a look at my hand and said, "Yep... Let's go."

The staff in the med tent were friendly, sympathetic, and helped me immediately. They splinted my finger and tied it to my pinkie so I wouldn't move it too much. They also told me I should see a doctor, but that I could wait until Monday rather than go to an emergency room or urgent care.

We then went to the zombie tent to check out. As we were walking, Suz and I were wondering if we would still get our shirts, medals, and "drink token", or whether we would have been disqualified somehow. But I figured that they would at least give me a freakin' medal.

But of course, they were cool. They gave us our sweet shirts, "infected" medal, and -- because this event was a dry event, and one of the zombie perks was meant to be a free beer -- a $5 merch token. Now, I didn't need a koozie, a shot glass, or sticker... but they did have a sweet comic book that I thought Wil might enjoy.

Run For Your Lives 5K Infected Medal

We headed to the car, chatting with the next round of zombies-to-be who were lined up outside of the ZTC, and telling them to watch out. As we walked, we both admitted that, other than the broken finger thing, we were pretty much happy with the way the day turned out... that we were both pretty much happy to be done being zombies.

Back at the car we took off some of the icky stuff... I had brought garbage bags, into which I shoved my bathrobe and nightgown. My muddy shoes and socks I put in another bag -- I was keeping those.

So I know what you're thinking.... WHAT ABOUT THE FINGER???