I've had the best time the past couple of days.
Yesterday, my company organized and hosted a Challenge - a 20 mile bike, 5k run and 5k inline skate. It wasn't necessarily a triathlon, because all the events took place simultaneously, but it was an inaugural event for us and the turnout was amazing. We raised close to $200,000 for a local charity against family violence.
I've been trying to run lately, and as I've never been a runner, that's been challenge enough.
But after getting so talked into participating (I was planning to pay my 20 bones just for the after party) by our Investor Relations/Corporate Communications guy the day before, I decided I'd do good for charity, and our company, and at least walk the damn thing.
So most of the girls in my building and I made a pact to walk it. The day of? They're all like - oh, I'm going to try and run. Bitches! This always happens. In elementary school, when we'd have to run the 600 yard dash for that Presidential Fitness thing, (Ahnald!) the Lavender Ladies and I would act all snooty and say we'd just walk it. Of course, they'd all run and break records (I think Paige's stood through high school) and I'd be huffing and puffing, bringing up the rear with Rowena.
So we're all crowded on the bridge, people around us jumping up and down, getting in last minute stretches and standing on their tiptoes to watch the bladers take off, looking at one another like, how are we going to do this?
The mob starts moving and we take off, smack in the middle, running slow, and people are passing us left and right. People with strollers are passing us. After about a half mile I bagged it and started walking.
After that, it became a race only between me and the clock - somewhere, deep inside, I was channeling Prefontaine. Okay, actually? I just wanted to beat the four middle-aged women walking behind me.
I walked most of it, and finished in just under forty minutes. While not great, is a pretty good pace for walking most of the thing. It is right? RIGHT? But I ran the home stretch and the director of IR, let's call him Rick, was standing right by the clock and he put his hand out to high-five me and I starting humming "Chariots of Fire" and I put my arms up and grabbed his hand as I crossed the finish line, making myself laugh the entire time.
I went straight to the keg, found my friends, and we ate grilled chicken and listened to the Shantee. All these little kids were there dancing, and these two little boys, who were probably all of three years old, were having the best time swinging each other around and spinning like hippies. They'd put on the Challenge T-shirts and the tees came down to their toes. I wanted to scoop them up.
At one point, Rick's daughter and wife were dancing right in front of me and he ran over and swung his daughter up into the air and tickled her belly. He'd been rushing around like a crazy man the entire event, and right as he set his daughter down and began to run off again, his wife quietly placed her hand on his arm, pulled him in for a quick kiss and told him he'd done a great job. Right in that instant he relaxed. It was such a touching, intimate thing to witness. It made me long for that in a good - I'll have that someday - kind of way.
Tonight Mo and I dropped off the keys to our old place before hitting World Market and the brand new, first in Ohio, Container Store. I'm shocked I didn't walk out of there with boxes from all the major storage groups - plastic, metal, and paper.
But here are the thoughts that make me, well, me. As I was ooohing over a baking soda holder for your fridge, and realizing that they really do carry a container for everything, I starting giggling, picturing the cash wrap. What if you went up there, all ready to sign your credit card receipt, and the cashier said - Dammit, I can never find a pen. This place is so disorganized!
The notify is singing "Happy Journal to you." Oh, and believe me, now is definitely the time to be signing up. I wouldn't say I'm bribing you here, except that I am.
