Just take all my money, runDisney

Last Friday, runDisney announced a whole bunch of fun.

A new 10k with the Princess Half, and with that, a new challenge – The Glass Slipper Challenge.

A girly Coast-to-Coast medal if you do Tink and Princess.

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And just when I was saying that I wasn’t sure I’d be back for Princess…

I can say that I won’t be getting the C2C.  I can’t swing the marathon, then Tink, then Princess.  Too much on my body and on my wallet.  But the idea of the Glass Slipper Challenge sounds like a lot of fun – and THREE MEDALS.  We all know I’m in it for the bling.  And runDisney bling is some of the best.

So, anyone else thinking of joining me for the Glass Slipper Challenge?  Maybe coming down and running your first 10k and cheering for the half runners?  Should be a fun weekend!

Early Morning Swim

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I get to the pool relatively early on Tuesday mornings.  The local youth swim teams have a bunch of lanes reserved from 4:30-6:15 am, but open swim starts at 6, and the kids are typically out of the pool and into the locker rooms by that point.

Typically, I get to the pool around 6 or so, and am in the pool before 6:15.  This week, I wanted to try to get in some extra distance before heading to work, so I did my best to get there early.  When I walked onto the pool deck, I wished I had brought my camera.

The pool has two sets of lanes – the shallow end to the left and the deep end to the right.  The deep lanes are often used by water walkers, so I swim on the shallow end.  When I walked in, there were still a few swim team members in the deep lanes, and on the end of the shallow lanes sat adult swimmers, patiently waiting for the signal to swim.  It was a very neat effect.

At first, I couldn’t figure out what they were waiting for.  I wondered what the signal was that swim officially started.  It didn’t take long to figure it out.  There was no lifeguard on duty.  Clearly, that’s the most important thing at the pool.  I hope to never see anyone need their services, but they must be there.

So I said good morning to my normal lane partner (as per usual, he didn’t acknowledge my presence, but one day you will, grumpy old man) and sat down to wait.  I still didn’t know what the signal was after all.

Then I saw it.  The moment the lifeguard put one foot onto his stand, people leapt into the pool.  My break was over.  Time to swim.

 
photo credit: jdlasica via photopin cc

Happy Birthday, Dad!

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Surprise!  Last night I snuck my way to my parents’ house to surprise my dad for his 60th birthday.

Well, it wasn’t so much sneaking as it was getting on an airplane, flying, getting picked up at the airport, and arriving at the house.  But as far as I know, Dad didn’t know.

He probably doesn’t like that I’m telling the internet that he’s 60, but if you met my dad, you wouldn’t believe it anyway.

So I hope he’s having an awesome birthday today.  Clearly, since I’m here, he must be, right?

photo credit: cafemama via photopin cc

Our Fan Club

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In the past week, I, like many others inside and outside of the running community have gone through a myriad of emotions.  Fear, sadness, anger, frustration, confusion, relief, and many others.

And I have been asked by many (non-runner) coworkers if I still plan to run.

The answer is yes.  Of course I will still run.  Admittedly, I don’t do a lot of big city races, but I will be at Baltimore later this year and I will show up at many other start lines.  This won’t stop me.

But I don’t know how I feel about my friends and family members waiting for me at the finish.  While I can only hope this was a one-time thing, the crazy amounts of press it got make this an appealing location for terrorist attacks.  Last week, there was also an earthquake in China and a terrifying explosion in Texas (and other events I’m missing), but the headlines were still about Boston.  Of course, if you let fear rule, the terrorists win, but maybe I’d prefer my family be elsewhere on the course.  That’s usually what they do anyway, as the crowds at the finish make it hard to see people.  But that’s where I stand right now.

Talking with some runner friends this weekend, I think that the reason this hits the running community so hard is that they didn’t attack us.  They attacked our friends and family.  From what I understand, most, if not all of the seriously injured people were spectators.  Some of them were out cheering for friends and family, but a number of them were just out cheering for the runners.  But I’m sure that all of them, whether or not they knew a runner participating in the race, were cheering for strangers as they passed.

And that’s the best part of a big city race.  Baltimore.  D.C.  My favorite thing is all the random spectators out with signs, screaming at people they don’t know.  If you look at pictures from races, lots of people run with their names printed in big letters across their chests.  They want the spectators to yell for them.  And yell they do.  It’s awesome.

So these men didn’t attack us runners.  No, they attacked our support crew.  The people who are out there in any type of weather, yelling and cheering and doing everything they can to keep us motivated. The strangers who show up with snacks.  The person who sees a struggling runner and yells “Hey green shirt!  You’ve got this!”  The people who make signs about terrible parades and velociraptors chasing you.  People we don’t know and may never see again, but for one brief moment, they mean everything to us.

I hope this won’t stop them.  It certainly won’t stop me going out to cheer at the Marine Corps Marathon later this year.  It may just make me yell louder.
 

 

photo credit: Phil Roeder via photopin cc