PINK PIRATES WALK THE PLANK

Saturday night, like good pirates do, my Lovely girlfriends and I stayed up into the wee hours of the night gabbing and giggling, eating muffins at midnight and refilling our wine glasses probably too many times.

So when 6:45 a.m. rolled around, we were barely rolling out of bed to join the Komen Race for the Cure. After contemplating Sleeping in for the Cure instead, we decided to buck up and join the other 23,995 pink people.


Our team, aptly named Pink Pirates for various reasons depending on who you ask, also made t-shirts Saturday night, after refilling our wine glasses probably too many times. The result is what you might expect of five giggly girls ironing pink and polka-dot letters onto t-shirts.


We were chauffeured to the race by Justy Tator, and began our walk at a brisk 1 mile per hour pace. Audrey had predicted it would take us 3 hours to walk the 5K, to which some pirates had scoffed. Oh, wise Audrey, you are a regular Confucius.


About, oh, let's say a 1/4 mile into it we begin to realize that the Pink Pirates are really hungry and on the verge of hungover, meaning if we didn't do something fast, this day could go downhill quick. So as soon as Las Manitas came into view, we left our place among the Cure walkers and found a table at the back of the restaurant.

We spent the next hour Eating Breakfast for the Cure.


After huevos and beans, tortillas, chips and hot sauce, we took a shortcut back onto the Cure trail and crossed the finish line, like good pirates do.