Hood-to-Coast 2012
Nice socks (I have a pair) For the first time in five years of photographing Hood-to-Coast, everything went smoothly: no panic attacks at thinking I had lost my car keys, no equipment malfunctions, no getting lost on the course, and no scorching heat or pesky rain showers. The sun still burned my summer-dark skin, my thighs hurt like I had run 26 miles while powerlifting my weight, and the little sleep I scavenged failed to ward off my drowsiness late Saturday. But 2012 was easily the best experience to date. But I also have some myths that I wish to debunk: I am NOT a volunteer , so quit elevating me to such a holy state. Just because I wear a reflective vest all day doesn't automatically grant me my angelic wings that the true volunteers have. I say this because most runners I encounter say the magic words, "Thanks for coming out here today." I'm getting paid, people--this is not a form of charity. My job is NOT easy . Every year a handful of runners throw...