10.31.09 (Halloween Morning) Oh my goodness. Look at those girls. It makes me quiver thinking about how fast they’ve grown. My baby nieces aren’t babies anymore, and it startles me every time I see them. Aren’t they beautiful? And that’s their “7:30 in the morning” look. Oh, and the gray-headed old man in the back? That’s my brother. He’s only got me beat by *ahem*… 10 years.
He’s also got me beat in stamina and will-power. The brother can run. He’s all I wear short running shorts serious about running. HE RUNS MARATHONS. Did I tell you I ran a marathon with him? Seriously, did you have to go back and read that last sentence again? Was it really that unbelievable?
Okay, I can see why you’re so surprised. That was 40 pounds ago… and the truth of the matter is… my old fart brother was running laps around his baby sister, eatin’ hot dogs provided by the lunatic who thought they’d be a great source of energy for the runners at mile 22. I know you can’t envision it, so let me help. You know the water stations that are set up throughout races? You run, snatch a water, and keep going, drinking the H2O in one swift move. It was the same concept, only this was a HOT DOG STAND… AT MILE 22!!! Who does that?! I wanted to barf at the thought of snatching a hot dog “to go.” But not Daren. No sir. The weirdo even took the time to squeeze mustard all over the nastiness (yes, the hot dog stand even offered condiments), catch back up to me, and proceed to chow down, all while continuing at a slow steady jog. He LITERALLY ran a circle around me with a smirk that said, “Wanna bite?” I was all, “Why don’t you use that extra energy of yours to give me a piggyback ride, buddy?” But hear me out…
I FINISHED THE FREAKIN’ MARATHON!
God, that still feels so good to say, even though the present Darla laughs at the idea.
Here’s what it looks like to cross the finish line at 26.2 miles…
The “you give me hope” was something my mom stuck on the picture when she gave it to me. She was cool like that.
So enough daydreaming about the past.
Let’s talk about this year’s 10K Classic. No, don’t go giving a standing ovation just yet. I ran walked the 5K.
Here’s how it all went down: Daren called me like 2 days before this year’s race. (I had already talked myself out of doing it at this point.) He said all 3 of his girls were in the race, but since they all run at different paces, he wanted to pair each of them with someone. He asked if I’d be that someone for Veronica. Mind you, I’d do anything for my nieces, including this. So, “Hooray.” Let me dust off my running shoes. Bother.
It rained… a lot… the night before, and part of me was wishing it would just come a monsoon so I could bail out and put the blame on Mother Nature. But wouldn’t you know, I woke up and the weather just had to be decent.
I think the clock said something like 6am, God forbid. So I put my contacts in put on my glasses, put my uncombed hair in a ponytail, and willingly did not brush my teeth.
We had a blast and Veronica was the perfect running partner… up until the end, when the little goober decided to “finish strong” and leave me in her dust. I couldn’t believe it!!! After all I’d done for her. That booger. But old fart didn’t let me down. He backtracked for me and we crossed the finish line together. (I should really give him more credit. He’s only like the best brother in the universe.)
Sorry. I didn’t care to notice our time. I was too busy snapping this pix with my cell phone when we crossed the finish line.
And here’s my “partner”… if you can still call her that after she left me high and dry on the home stretch.
And here’s Livie with her partner, Bethann…
And, for the record, at the end of the race, I had only one thing on my mind… “Why in the world did I not brush my teeth??!!!” Gross.
