Today, I wanted to tell you a bit of a love story that I have been meaning to share for a while. It’s about a girl, a marathon and a Chicken Face. This is the story of my engagement.

I should have caught on from the beginning, really. When Chicken Face (CF) told me that we would be staying at a swanky, five star hotel in Newport beach during our trip to Southern California, I should have caught on. But instead, I applauded his TravelZoo skills and aptitude for always finding the best deals online. Alas, my naivety proved beneficial as it complimented a perfect weekend trip to SoCal for the 2010 LA Marathon.

Throughout the weekend, we explored all that Newport, Huntington Beach and LA had to offer, ate our hearts out, and took Lola to the beach for the first time. It was simply blissful. Couple this with pre-marathon festivities (I secretly love expos) and I was complete.

While I will spare you the recap of the actual marathon in this post, it was fantastic race. The redesigned course offered sights that one normally may not expect when visiting LA…including a few star sightings. If you’re contemplating adding this race to your roster, I would highly recommend it.

Three hours and 52 minutes later (not my best or my worst), I crossed the finish line with the most ridiculous smile on my face. Finishing along the Santa Monica Pier was stunning and my body felt strong and accomplished – exactly the post-marathon experience we all hope for. I collected my finishers swag and found my way to a random grass patch to meet up with CF. Within a matter of minutes, CF and Lola were there to congratulate me and talk all things marathon.

WARNING: THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE ENGAGEMENT STORY BUT IT’S PRETTY AWESOME: As I’m lying on the grass, practically passed out, Lola is wandering around me when this woman approached us. The women asked, “Your dog is so cute! Can I see her?” In a state of delirium I said yes as I know CF was standing by on puppy supervision duty. But when I finally looked up to see who the woman was, it was Alanis Morissette! Isn’t it ironic (errr…wait…that doesn’t work). I instantly try to keep my cool but I want to shout that I listened to her through elementary and junior high – ha! Alanis then asked what my dog’s name was and started talking to Lola. Alanis knows my dogs name! Ok, ok, now back to the engagement story…

After a few moments of recovery, CF and I started walking towards the pier where the post-race activities were being held, but then out of nowhere, I started feeling extremely dizzy and had to stop and sit down. I sat there, with my head in my hands, for what must have been 20 minutes. With each minute that passed by I got progressively more nauseous. With the daunting drive back up to the Bay Area ahead of us, I told CF that it was probably a good idea if we just go home and I asked if he would go get my gear from gear check. He instantly started pushing back, “Babe, we’re all the way here. Let’s just go to the beach and enjoy the time for a little bit…” I insisted that I was really sick and pleaded with him to go and get my bag. Like the good soon-to-be-fiancé that he was, he finally went and got my gear.

But here’s where the story gets…er…classic. While CF was off doing his boyfriend duties, I got even more sick. I was going to lose my lunch. Within a matter of seconds, I dumped out a bag of pretzels and literally yanked in a pretzel bag. CF came back in the nick of time to see me finish this oh-so-sexy move of mine and to top it all off, he even threw away my puke bag for me…isn’t that sweet?

The good news is, as soon as I yanked, I felt 100% better. That’s what too much sports drink and chews can do to you! I can only imagine what CF was thinking at this moment, but we proceed to the beach determined to make the most of our time in Santa Monica.

We sat on the beach on my finisher’s space blanket, overlooking the ocean, and just talking for half an hour. When I was about ready to pack-up for the drive home, CF said, “Wait, I have a snack for you!” (He knows the way to my heart is through food.) He then pulled out a box of muffins. “Muffins?” you ask. Yes, muffins. We have an inside joke and called diamond rings “shiny muffins” (long story), and the box that he pulled out that day on the beach consisted of three muffins topped with clear sprinkles, so they “shined” in the light. In the fourth muffin holder was a red box…with a ring.

While I’m going to keep CF’s actual words to me a personal story, I will tell you this. My best friend asked me to marry him on March 21, 2010 on the beach, after a marathon, after I puked in a pretzel bag that he threw away for me, with the most gorgeous shiny muffin I have ever seen in my life…and I wouldn’t change a thing.

Oh, and I said yes.