Race recap: The Tchoupitoulas Barathon

(Hey Chrome, stop marking "Tchoupitoulas" as misspelled).
I've completed my first barathon! David and I headed over to Le Bon Temps Roule for the 6:15 start. It was a madhouse!

Costumed runners crammed the street, music played, instructions were blared over the loudspeaker, and somehow no one was crushed to death in the crowd. We edged toward coolers of ice and each got a can of Miller High Life. At the signal at 6:15 - CRACK! - thousands of beers were opened the we were off!

The race starts in relative silence as everyone chugs, but the fast people were off and running in seconds. I was way in the back in a huge crowd and was also cheating like a card shark. No way was I actually planning to drink six beers in one sitting. I had maybe half of the first beer. I stumbled (already!) out after the crowd and wove down Camp Street. The next stop was Reginelli's, and it came up fast. I stopped to talk to one of the volunteers for awhile while I finished 3/4 of a beer (again, a can of Miller), then fell in with a group for the next mile. We were headed to TJ Quill's, which is in my 'hood, but this means you have to decide whether to run sedately down Henry Clay to St. Charles, or to cut through the park. Clearly, the park was the better route, and I argued my point vehemently with the group of guys around me. They finally agreed to follow me, and we triumphantly emerged from the park slightly ahead of the group we'd been following. TJ Quill's brought more volunteers, more people I knew, and a little throwing up (not me, but people around me). We switched to draft beer, and I got down a little more than half. Half way done with beer!
But not with the race. The bulk of running was still to come. Now we turned around and headed all the way to Patois. I ended up with my friends Lauren and Rob in the park (shortcut again!) but pulled ahead as I neared the restaurant. My friend Mary Grace was hanging outside with a cocktail. She explained that she didn't drink beer, so she was having vodka, and expected a cocktail handicap on her finishing time. She also told me that I was something like third girl? But I explained that I wasn't drinking the full beer, so my time didn't count. I finally scooted out of there and ran down Tchoupitoulas to Dos Jefes, a cigar bar I went to once. My contacts felt itchy for days after that. Oh, but here is where things got iffy.

I had no idea where the next bar was. It was called Grits, and because I "did my undergrad wrong" (as I was told), I had never been there. It looked like it was on Annunciation or something. But then some of the street converge and I couldn't read the map and ... I wasn't, well, TOTALLY sober by now... so it wasn't until I hit Napoleon that I realized I'd gone way too far. I wandered around hunting for the bar until I heard shouts of "She went the wrong way!" - yep! That's me! - and turned the corner to see Lauren sprinting away from Grits. I struggled a little beer down and was almost immediately at the finish.
Yeah, I even went off-course for a barathon. How do I do these things? Oh, and I don't have a time for the race... It has old fashioned timing tags and I didn't even look at the time when I finished (and no Garmin, since it was a fun run!).
We hung out afterward for the awards (my friend Melissa WON, but it was totally rigged. She's sleeping with the race director [they're married, haha]) and the watermelon sacrifice, which - don't ask.
It was fun, David survived, I cheated like crazy, and I got my just deserts when I got lost.