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Dry Martini: So That Was Weird

I’ve made a pledge to myself to not grouse about my recent runs in the snow, cold, and ice because, really, at this point in the winter, we’re all either sick to death of freezing and sliding or sick to death of hearing those who are freezing and sliding complain about it while we are out on the lanai enjoying a margarita. That pledge, however, means that I’ve kind of cut myself off at the knees when it comes to writing a column about running. Take it as a given that it is still cold, still snowing, still icy and I’m still running. Sometimes inside. Sometimes outside. Sometimes I swear at the sky a little bit; then go do what needs to be done.

Pretty much all you need to know.

My pledge means that I can finally tell you a weird story I’ve being trying to find room for.

At the beginning of September, I had a stranger “Slide into my DMs.” That’s what the kids say, yes? Or does that phrase have a naughty connotation, like “Netflix and chill?” For the longest time, I thought “Netflix and chill” sounded like the best way to wind-down after a grueling week, just hanging out in your jammies with some hot cocoa watching The Crown. And while the … aerobic … activity that goes with how other people use the phrase is fun, too, I didn’t figure it out until I’d already horrified my oldest child. See, I said her Dad and I were going to “Netflix and chill” that night. You can imagine the rest.

I’ll explain this in a minute. Just hold the image in your head for now. Marianne is on the left. I’m on the right.

Anyway, a stranger slid into my DMs. She started off with a bit about not being a stalker but then went on to say that she had a picture of me that was in her parents’ family photo album. Really, she said, it’s my Dad who is a stalker.

Kristen, who lives in suburban Philadelphia, was visiting her folks in New Jersey and flipping through the family album. “Who are these people?” she asked her Dad when she got to the photo in question.

“Wait,” he said. “I thought that was you.”

Thanks to the wonders of the internet, she was able to track my info down via the Pittsburgh marathon results site. On Facebook, she noticed we had a friend in common and bingo-bango, the DM slide.

Once I stopped laughing and marveling at how tiny the world is, Kristen and I got to chatting. Yes, I told her, I did enjoy the race. I don’t know what I was doing in that picture, other than being a big goober because I’d just spied the very tall Dimity just a few feet ahead. Also: I always dig running over bridges and it was extra excited because Marianne was by my side.

“How was your Pittsburgh run?” I asked. I figuring that her Dad just picked the wrong photo to have printed because he was looking to have evidence of his kid in the race. And that’s where it got even funnier.

Kristen didn’t run it.

While she’s long been intrigued by the ‘burgh, it tends to be at the same time as Philadelphia’s Broad Street Run, which Kristen and other members of her S.W.I.F.T. group prefer to take on. And until the photo incident, she hadn’t been introduced to Another Mother Runner.

So far, no one has been able to figure out how that particular picture wound up in the packet of printed photos her Dad picked up at his local CVS. It is a mystery.

The photo itself showed up in my mailbox a few days later and I’ve put it in my own running photo album, which is actually a bulletin board near my race medals. It’s a nice reminder of both a great race and how small the running community can be.

Kristen and I finally met in person at the Philadelphia marathon expo in November. Sadly, I suffered from camnesia and failed to take a picture. I can say that while we look similar, in the sense that we are both middle aged white women who are sort of the same shape, we’re not dopplegangers. Maybe every runner looks the same when you stick a hat on ‘em?

So this week’s question: have you had any strange running coincidences?

11 responses to “Dry Martini: So That Was Weird

  1. I am a dental hygienist and, a few years ago, I decided to take a temp job near downtown Chicago on the Saturday of the expo for the Shamrock Shuffle. I had Registered a while before and had to go to the expo to pick up my race packet, so why not work? So My last Patient was a small framed, dark haired young woman, about 27, who was named Michelle, I believe. She was ALSO running the Shamrock Shuffle. She said after the appointment she was going to head down to Navy Pier to pick up her packet as well. We chatted, she was nice and cool and I wished Her luck on the race the next day. Fast forward to about an hour and a half later. As I am driving down the street, getting ready to pull into the insanely expensive parking garage (thanks, Chicago), I see Michelle walking with her race packet. Ha, I thought, so funny! What are the odds ? And went on to pick up my packet and head home. Race day comes very early the next morning. It’s extremely busy in the city, after all it is the largest 8K in the world (feel free to fact check this)! So I run And do pretty well and enjoy the cool sunshine of the early spring in Chicago and once again head home. Eventually, race pictures are sent my way via email. Always charming and totally lovely (not), I typically don’t purchase. On that day, I scroll Through the pics (seemed to be more than normal) just to see if there are any viable ones. So you can imagine my surprise when i see that my patient from that Saturday before race day, Michelle, had been tagged as ME!! I could not believe the odds of this and should have purchased the pic just to go along with the story! Still makes me think we should be #BRF!!!!

  2. hahahaha “Aerobic” DM’s! I love it. Dad is on the task of another CVS run, this time to print Philly Expo photo. Will mail it as soon as it shows up in the family album!

  3. No running coincidences (I can remember), but I honestly thought Netflix and chill was just that! I say it, to myself, when I actually have control of the tv, which is rare. I DID know sliding into my DMs, so while obviously old I am not ancient (yet).

  4. Three words: I adore you. I will send you the photo from Philly Expo in trade for explaining “Slide in to DM’s” because “DM’s” could go many ways and sliding in to one could be really gross.

    1. Oooo. Send it on. In exchange — “Slide into my DMs” just means “sent a direct message.” Sometimes, it means that the message in question is for “aerobic” requests but mostly not. Near as I can tell, anyway, and my older kid confirms.

  5. I went to a group run before I moved away from my hometown and happened to mention I was moving to NM to the Nathan rep. Turns out he was a friend of the running store owner there. Small world indeed 🙂

  6. My incident actually involves YOU, Adrienne! I was pacing a half in my hometown a few years ago; in the finish area, I met two sisters who had also run the race. I don’t even remember how we started talking, but they said they followed me for a long time, and then somehow it came up that I had just been on the blog with my most important mile a few days before. And they’re like, YOU know about AMR?! We were calling you ‘our Adrienne Martini’ during the race!”

  7. Weird! But wonderful to meet a new friend! I don’t have any running coincidences that I can recall but I thank you for the education as well. I had no idea what “Slide into your DMs” meant. The “Netflix and chill” reference makes me laugh because I nearly put that on an Evite for a pre-teen slumber party until a nagging suspicion made me look it up in Urban Dictionary!

  8. I teach middle school so unfortunately am familiar with ‘netflix and chill’ and ‘slide into your dms’ even though they are much too young- they like to sound old. However, camnesia is new to me! and I have it all the time!

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