(Note: I wrote this post more than a week ago, but didn’t feel like publishing it. I’m going through a phase where I hate everything I write. I’ve also been wondering if I’d be happier if I stopped writing personal accounts of running altogether. The photo/word posts I’ve been doing instead are my attempt to focus on the positive and drag myself out of my negative funk.)
Kurt and I met my parents in Lewisburg, West Virginia for our fifth annual Chocolate Festival this weekend. It was the third year my parents have joined us.
Mom wanted to see a show, so dad bought us all tickets to Friday night’s performance of Thornton Wilder’s The Skin of our Teeth at the Greenbrier Valley Theater.
Cultured folk that we are, none of us knew anything about this Pulitzer Prize winning drama ahead of time.
The play is an allegorical farce that follows the Antrobus family through time. The first act takes place simultaneously in early 20th century New Jersey and at the beginning of the ice age. I was not sure what to make of it at first, but when a dinosaur and a mammoth appeared outside the living room window and were invited in out of the cold, I laughed out loud. That was when I accepted all of the craziness and climbed on board for the rest of the wild ride. It was great fun and the cast did a fantastic job. Definitely worth staying up past my bedtime for.
In the morning, Kurt and I headed out to the airport to run our fifth Hospice Care Chocolate Chase 10k.
It was sunny, nearly 50 degrees and windy. The wind might make the run a little challenging, but it was going to be a beautiful day.
We jogged around a little to warm up, then made our way over to the starting line. It was the first year the race has used chip timing.
I took the first mile easy. I was hoping to test my knee with a little bit of speed, but I didn’t want to push the limits too much. Next weekend is the Blue Ridge Marathon. I’m pretty sure that I won’t be running the full marathon, but I want to be able to run something.
Just before the first mile marker, a girl came up beside me and commented on the wind. We started talking. She said she had recently gotten her husband into running and that he was somewhere back there (she pointed behind us with her thumb). I tilted my head forward indicating the direction we were headed and told her that I too, had gotten my husband into running, and that he was now somewhere up there. She smiled, “so I guess that’s my future.” We both laughed.
After a while, she asked incredulously, “Is that your stomach?”
My stomach had been making loud sloshing noises the entire time.
“Yeah. I drink too much coffee.” I told her. Though it had been almost two hours since my last cup.
Her: “Are you OK?”
Me: “Oh yeah. My stomach does this all the time.”
We ran together until the finish line was within sight at the bottom of the hill. I told her she should go ahead and sprint into the finish. I was too worried about my knee to pick up the pace too much on the downhill, or I would have taken off with her.
Regardless, I crossed the finish line with a huge smile on my face.
I was thrilled that I (and my knee) had made it there.
Kurt had finished quite a bit before me and was already in line at the Wild Bean getting me some coffee. He’s good like that. But my parents were there cheering and snapping pictures.
Kurt and I ended up winning matching medals.
I checked later and saw that the girl I’d run almost the entire race with had won first place in her age group. Congrats, running partner!
After quick showers, we headed back into town to eat way too much chocolate.
Can’t wait to do it all again next year.