Oddly enough, I found myself up at 6am, equally excited about the race. In addition to my Crazy Runner of a husband, I had a handful of ladies running the half course. All women who have shared the joy and aching arms and backs that comes with pushing our children in joggers around the up and down streets of our city. And for the first time in a very (and I do mean very) long time, Mark and I shared a hot cup of coffee by the glow of the Christmas tree, bantering quietly about the morning's festivities.
I'd spent the evening before studying the TR course map online, plotting my best spot to cheer on my favorite folks. Between Mile 7 and 8 was most appealing. I could catch the halfers at one of their most "need a boost" moments. It was a spot off the main roads, and completely blocked by traffic cops; no cars allowed. And it was 3 and a half miles from the house, which meant I could squeeze a run in myself by tossing the kids in the jogger. The trick: having us all ready and enthusiastic about going by 7:45am.
When Mark left the house at 7am to pick up a fellow running neighbor, Stella and I were up, had consumed cereal and mini-waffles, and were cuddling on the couch, whispering about Christmas and running and train tracks.
At 7:15, we were dressed, tires on the jogger pumped, and snacks stashed.
7:20, Heath was up.
7:25, Heath and Stella were playing a mutually aggressive game of footsie on our bed.
7:27, Heath and Stella were in their separate rooms, screaming for each other.
7:30, Stella was running through the house refusing to put a jacket on.
7:34, a jacketed, barefoot Stella was running through the front yard.
7:36, Heath and Stella, shoed, were begging to go in the car.
7:45, Stella kicked at the weather cover I desperately tried to attach to the jogger.
7:47, Heath continued to play a non-mutual game of Catch Me If You Can.
7:50, both children were in the jogger, while I sat on the front porch and cried.
I was convinced that I had missed my opportunity to see Mark and friends at mile 7ish. And it would be pointless to jump in the car, because the streets were shut-down. At 7:53, still on the front stoop, defeated, I finally noticed that the children were in the jogger, silent, and staring at their frantic mother.
Don't cry, mom. Let's go, Heath soundly suggested.
So we went.
At a 1/4 mile, I had to retrieve fruit bars from the basket. 1/2 mile, milks were handed out. 1 mile, lost a pink boot. 1.2 miles, lost another pink boot. 1.5 miles, was told about lost pink boots. Buzzed back around to retrieve them, check my phone. 8:30am. The lead runners would be cruising through mile 7 around now. I picked up the pace, the children noting my increase in speed and began to shout, Go, go, go!
We passed the quiet mall, resting up for a day of Christmas shopping. A closed Christmas tree lot, supplies already dwindling. And then the kiddie chattering came to a sudden halt. At the corner of Colony and Sharon, three police cars sat, directing SUV after SUV elsewhere.
Road race, the officers yelled to the impatient drivers. Streets are closed.
We easily zoomed across the street, onto the forbidden path to the course. And just as suddenly, I saw them. Runners. Group by group, one by one, they whooshed down Sharon Amity right onto Sharon.
My original plan was to turn into Foxcroft neighborhood, but seeing Sharon Amity was actually closed, I darted down an additional quarter mile to the corner of Foxcroft and Sharon Amity. Mile 7ish.
8:42, and not a moment to spare. In no less than five minutes, familiar faces started to pass. We parked ourselves on a friendly lady's lawn to hoot and holler.
And oh, did we hoot. And we hollered. And we clapped. And we woo-hooed for the next 45 minutes.
Our friend, Julie, was first. I was so excited to see her, I forgot to get my camera out and snap her picture.
There goes DeDe. His exact words when he passed by: What have I gotten myself into? He ran an awesome race. Like Mark, he is a Training Minimalist.
We got kisses and high fives from Daddy before he took off into the pack again.
And there goes Jen. We were happy to take her baby socks, fingerless gloves, and big ole smurf hat.
Our friend/neighbor Laura. Had a baby in May! Go, Laura, Go!
It was great to see all the runners on the course, especially so many mom friends from the preschool. The comment that buzzed through the crowd: Charlotte is surprisingly hilly.
Mark's goal was to run in under 4 hours. His time for TR was 4 hours and 10 seconds. He was minorly bummed about those 11 seconds. Still, back-to-back weekend marathons. Not too shabby.
And it was a great entertainment for the kids. They argued the entire run back home, which only made me run that much faster. 3.5 miles in 30 minutes. I think that's a PR for me.
4:17 a.m.??
ReplyDeleteI didn't know you did this blog. You are a really good writer, and I'm proud of your honesty.
You're so cool....