Blame it on the Baltimore Grand Prix

Yesterday was the first day of the Baltimore Grand Prix and boy was it exciting. It might have just been a practice day but I didn’t care. The noise, the speed, the electricity, it was all too much too take in. It’s a day later and I’m still reeling from the experience. It’s also the reason I forgot to stop at City Sports and pick up my GU Gel for today’s run, that and ,well, cat food. Those little suckers are not happy this morning.

But the race. THE RACE!!!! I’ve never experienced anything like it and it was great to see, as well as see that Baltimore came out to support it. And I mean all of Baltimore. It wasn’t your stereotypical race fans, or what you think a stereotypical race fan looks like, but it was the face of Baltimore. Real race fans, curious onlookers, and people and families just looking for a good time. Black, white, Asian, Latino, young, old… you get my drift…everyone was there. And everyone was wide-eyed and smiling. Strangers laughed, friends nudged each other as car after car whizzed by.

And thanks to my good friend Elizabeth we had a front row seat to the thing. Well, a front row stand but we were right there. The day started out on an exciting odd note. As we stood on the steps of the old Legg Mason building, the view we had was decent enough, and in all honesty the best one I thought I was going to get. All of a sudden some moron sidles up to me and decides he wants to school me on the race with a “Little Lady let me explain this to you” attitude. Of which I stopped him right there, schooled his ass and told him the conversation was over. With that, Elizabeth and I went to find greener pastures. The second spot we found was actually pretty good. For being non-ticket holders, I thought that was the best place to stand, and then the guy next to me decided to talk about Corvettes for the next half hour as he circled us staring at my bag on the ground. Again, Adieu good sir, we have somewhere else to be. And that was what led us to the Holy Grail of spots.

Elizabeth and I saw people walking across the footbridge over Light Street and we believed that was the way to get to the other side of Pratt Street. Walking around the back side of the Light Street Pavilion we soon realized that bridge was for ticket holders only. Forging ahead we found ourselves in the docking area of the pavilion with the restaurant workers on their smoke break and then we spotted it, an opening in the gate. There is no security, no staff, and well no one at all. We walk over to it and as me and my wimpy ass ahemed and ahawed about how maybe we shouldn’t do that, a group of people walked by on the other side of the fence and Elizabeth just walked through and joined them. Obviously I quickly followed and then bam, there we are, front row, behind the press, the cars mere feet from us. (Our friend Antonio called us, “The rogue and her accomplice/accessory.”)

It was at that time we got to see the real Indy car racers zoom by us. Danica Patrick, Marco Andretti, Helio Castroneves all making noises that sounded like thunder, the BOOM< BOOM< BOOM of each car blasting your ears, it all still dancing in my head. And with that, with that excitement, with me talking to Matthew when I finally ran into him like a 6-year-old on too much sugar, we walked right past City Sports and Whole Foods; GU Gels and catfood another world away. And with that, I did not run today.

I’m sorry, but anything over 6, maybe, 7 miles, I need GU Gels. The goal is to head over to Harbor East to pick up our necessities and maybe stop by the race again to see what today is like. Monday, I’ll attempt to make my 10-miles, and admittedly last night I woke up in the middle of the night kind of freaking out over the blip in my training, so that has to account for something. Doesn’t it?


About charmcityrants

Charm City Rants is written by Jeanne-Michele Vigna, a certified group fitness instructor, an avid traveler and seeker of knowledge, plus an expert of Eurovision and hot dogs. She lives in Baltimore with her husband and two cats. Plus, she obviously likes to complain.
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