I signed up for another race – mostly because I want to eat and not lose any of the momentum from finishing the triathlon and partly because the next race in October is with very dear friends and its to run over the Astoria Bridge so it involves a weekend away with my spouse.
Finishing the triathlon is not a sentance that my jr. high self would have envisioned – proof that jr. high, while generally miserable, is thankfully not the sum total of existance. My eldest is going into fourth grade so we have two years left to pour in quality while she is still sane. And then according to my wise mother the goal in middle school is to just get them through it.
The next race is a 10K. I ran one several years ago. I came in dead last. I’d prefer not to be last again. Near the end of the crowd is okay. Last, not so much. I had a hard time this week getting into the gym during the day. The Scramble for the Kids is on Monday and so this last week was full of a myriad of details. As a result, two of my excercise attempts happened late evening after the three year old went to bed. Couple days ago the nine year old wanted to know if she could come along. I paused. Sometimes I run because I need a break. And last time she ran with me it involved more of me dragging her than actual running. But the jr. high kid in me wants my daughter’s jr. high experience to include fewer painful PE moments than mine had. Plus the fact that she wants to run with me is a a great honor. So I said sure.
She did great. We ran 2 miles in 25 minutes and were still friends when we came back home.
The almost 4th grader asked if we could run again tonight. I said
after dinner and after I read bedtime books to the little one (Make Way for Ducklings, This is Not my Hat and The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore for those of you curious).
We headed out with iPod blaring so we could both hear and I was wearing a light backpack so we could bring home treats. I asked my spouse if a run still counts if it is to the store for ice cream. He said yes. Points for the husband!
We paused at the corner because the sunset was gorgeous. The nine year old had extra energy tonight because she smoked me. I had to push to keep up. We had another mid run pause to pick up pints of ice cream (Peanut Butter Cup, Heath Toffee and cookie dough…go big!). Ran home with ice cream bumping off my back
This two miles we dropped 4 1/2 minutes off our time. Seriously should add ice cream to every run. Actually I think the fact that I was chasing her down the whole time pushed us both to speed up.
She talked me through all the post run stretches and then we sat on the couch and ate bowls of ice cream and then I dove back into golf details. And now the house is quiet, the girls are asleep and I’m grateful for today – for reading and laundry and errands and nap time and quiet moments with my spouse. And for the run. I’m grateful.
Our pastor says that parenting is not for wimps. And so we run. And eat ice cream.
Here is a photo of my sister one week ago. She’s wearing a Pinkalicious crown because she’s a good aunt. She looks worried because she’s looking at the Warrior Dash website. She agreed to do the Warrior Dash with me just about a year ago. Ever notice it’s easy to sign up for crazy things when they are far off in the future?
We were induced into this crazy event by a friends we trust. I said yes. I asked my sister. She said yes. She asked her husband. He said yes. I asked my husband. He said no. I asked my daughter if I looked like a Warrior right as I was getting ready to leave on Saturday. She appraised my outfit and said, “Well Mom. You do look a little worried.”
Here is a picture of the friends we trust before the event. He is not really that much taller than her. He’s standing on a very steep hill. I point this out because the entire three-mile course was on a very steep hill.
We ran. We climbed walls. I was unduly proud of myself when I hauled my body up a wall with a rope. Granted the wall had toe holds but still. I have a rope burn on my elbow to prove it. We dodged through tires. We climbed cargo nets. Did I mention we climbed walls ? Five different obstacles involved climbing walls. It stuck with me. I’m still grinning. We crawled under barbed wire. We slid down a mud slide. We jumped over fire pits.
This is not me. It could be though.
This is us at the finish line.
This is my shoe at the finish line. I wore these shoes every day in Rwanda. My kind husband washed them for me and they look great. I love these shoes.
This is us after we had a communal bath in the lake to get clean. I still wrapped my car seat in a garbage sack and sat on a towel.
On the way home, I downed a bottle of PowerAid and ate the free packet of sunflower seeds. I couldn’t stop grinning. This whole event was fun. I came in 487th out of 601 in my age bracket. I actually climbed up a wall. Did I already mention the wall? You should sign up for something crazy and silly and challenging. I feel like a Warrior.
This past weekend I participated in the 21st annual Hood to Coast / Portland to Coast relay. It’s a crazy fun event. When I was explaining to my daughter that I’d be gone overnight because I was walking to the beach she looked at me like I was crazy. In reality there were twelve of us that spent exactly 31 hours 38 min 32 seconds taking turns walking the 130 mile course from Portland to Seaside. We came in 94th out of 142 in our bracket.
My team is called the Rocket Girls. We got the name from a daughter of one of the team members. When she did her first race in 3rd grade or so she told her mom that the way she sped up when she was lagging was to say “GO GO Rocket Girl. GO as fast as the wind”. We tried her method and found that she’s right. Go Go Rocket Girl really is effective self talk and doubles nicely as a team name. Here is a photo of Van One. I was in Van Two. Our team spirit was less creative so I’m not showing you a photo of our van.
My sister and I were on the same team. Here we are nice and perky right at the beginning of the race.
Here we are at the end of the race. This is after we each walked over ten miles (I did twelve; eight of it in one long hill in the sunshine). This is also after we slept three hours the night before in our van. My sister and I shared a seat. It was cozy…and stinky…and hot. We’re less perky.
The Van One girls look happier. This is because they had showers already. We’d just gotten off the shuttle bus. This is a photo of the ride on the shuttle bus. Our last walker beat us to the beach. Yup. She walked faster than the shuttle bus drove.
When I got home my daughter asked if I had fun walking to the beach. Absolutely. I’ll do it again next year. I told you. It’s crazy fun.