As you know (because I can’t stop droning), today was The Color Run. I started training to run a 5K in August of last year, which is when I somehow screwed up my left ankle. I was released from physical therapy in January, so I started training again. That’s when I scored three stress fractures in my left leg. I was released from my big robot boot in May, which was when I started training again. (Every time I type the word Training, I feel a little silly. The Olympic athletes train. I ate Doritos throughout my “training.”)
This is a small sample of the (probably more than) 15,000 people who arrived in St. Louis this morning all ready to run and get colored. The people in this photo haven’t even crossed the starting line. When Jeff took the photo, my sister and I were nearly finished with the race, which shows just how many people were jazzed about this thing. (So many portable toilets. I haven’t used a portable toilet in years, and I hope to never use another. If this means I can never live out my dream to attend Burning Man, so be it.)
Here we have Jen and myself during the first stretch of the 5K. (One thing you need to know about me is that I never know what to do with my hands. The Weakerthans sum it up perfectly. “How I don’t know what I should do with my hands when I talk to you. How you don’t know where you should look, so you look at my hands.” Anyway, I tend to rely on peace signs entirely too much. Sometimes, when I’m especially frazzled and hand-conscious, I accidentally flip off the photographer, who is just trying to take a photo of her daughters running together. Right hand? Peace. Left hand? Sorry, Mom.)
Question: Did you finish the race?
Answer: I did!
Fun Fact: My dad took that shot. (Do you smell how he got all up in your bokeh?) My mom and dad came out for the race, as did Jeff, Meredith, and Harper. My family tends to be pretty amazing like that. (Also, peace.)
Another Fun Fact: My student number at Mizzou was 506354. (I graduated two decades ago, yet I still remember. Never Forget.) I love that my race number was a simple hiccup away.
Question: Did you run the entire way?
Answer: No. Don’t look at me.
Question: What?! WHAT?!
Answer: I know. I was so bummed. I’ve been running on the track and slowly increasing my run times and everything was going great until about a week ago when I couldn’t run for more than five minutes. I’ve gone running three times since then, and I categorized each of the three as Failure. I’m not quite sure what’s happening, other than the fact that I’ve had a cold, and that I switched from track (cushioned and soft!) to pavement (not so soft!). Please know that I’ve cursed more this week about running than I’ve EVER cursed (about running).
Statement: But you finished! You did it! That’s all that matters!
Retort: You keep living in your world. As much as I’d like to live there, too, I’m going to stay over here, where I’ll continue to beat myself up a bit (just a bit) for not crystallizing my dream. Then I’ll eat a big baked potato at Cracker Barrel with a side order of baby carrots.
BUT, you’re right. I finished.
We finished the race and then went looking for the family. We eventually saw them about 300 feet from the finish line on the other side of the street. They clearly missed us the first time around, because they were standing there with cameras ready, just waiting for us to run by. SO, we decided to sneak back into the race and give them the photo opportunities they were craving.
(I’m glad we did. That was my favorite photo from the morning.)
Question: I thought the point of The Color Run was to walk away all colored. Did you get colored?
Answer: I did. And despite the fact that I’ve showered, I’m still finding color in my nooks. And my crannies. Enjoy your dinner.