Half Marathon

Mental P. Mama, CBW, and Baby Sis
post-race at the Manteo waterfront.

Sunday I joined fellow bloggers Mental Pause Mama, Ann Marie, and my very own, one-of-a-kind Baby Sis in the OBX Half Marathon which started in Cobbs Creek Nags Head and ended up in Borneo Manteo, North Carolina.

The short version of the experience:  We thrived, we survived we imbibed, and we had an absolute blast. Baby Sis and I finished together with an overall time of 2 hours 31 minutes, and we did not walk once.

(To put this into a bit of perspective, however, the winner of the full marathon ran 26 miles in 2 hours and 29 minutes.  In other words, we were jogging at a snail's pace. But we were jogging!)

CBW and MPM

The weather could not have been more perfect.  A bit chilly in the morning but no wind and not a cloud in the sky.  After the sun rose, things warmed up but not enough to be oppressive even while jogging nonstop for three days two and a half hours.

MPM and Baby Sis

Somewhere early on, Baby Sis and I parted ways with MPM.  She has a stress fracture from a few years back and had to take it easy.  She completed the entire race, though, even if her foot was aching terribly afterwards.

Baby Sis and I then embarked on an adventure that can only be described as hilarious.  I swear there is something in our genes that attracts hilarity, inanity, insanity, humor, comedy, dysfunction, and gas in everything we do.

(Yes, I said gas. No, I don't mean gasoline.)

As if we needed anything extra to make us laugh, since we laughed pretty much the whole 3-hour drive to the Outer Banks on Saturday, Sunday's race provided the opportunity for us to acknowledge, humor, coddle, encourage, and embrace our Inner Toddlers Inner Teenagers.

Somewhere between miles 5 and 7, give or take, we found ourselves jogging through a very lovely sound side neighborhood. During this particular part of the race there were no (or rather very few) roadside spectators cheering us on, nobody ringing a cowbell, no DJs with music blaring as could be found in other parts of the race.

No, this part of the route was just pure silence except for the plodding of feet on the pavement and the clanking of my necklace.  The sun was rising over the ocean, the water on the sound was very calm, the air was cool, and every so often we caught a whiff of some wonderful floral scent that Baby Sis said was similar to gardenia or jasmine. It was a Zen-like experience.  (Whatever that is.)

And then it happened.

Just as we're starting to relax and get into a groove with this whole test of endurance, in the middle of a crowd of silent joggers, the man in front of Baby Sis passed some gas.

Actually, that is an understatement.  I'm not convinced gas was the only thing passed. Regardless, jasmine and gardenias most definitely were not involved.

Anyway, we seemed to be the only ones in the whole crowd who (a) heard what happened; (b) acknowledged what happened; (c) found what happened to be more than mildly amusing; (d) nearly fell off the course trying to restrain our laughter while moving forward; (e) can't seem to stop talking about it as the highlight of the event; (f) are still cracking ourselves up talking about it.

Clearly we lead a sheltered life.  Also, we may need to grow up.  After all, we're in our 40s for gosh sakes.

(But where's the fun in growing up?)

CBW and Baby Sis, between Miles 9 and 10, giddy from everything,
including my new favorite thing,  Gu Gel.
Photo Stolen from Phyllis M. on Facebook.
(Thanks, Phyllis!)

I had so much fun doing this, it's one of the highlights of my adult life (so far).  I encourage anyone who is able to walk to consider participating in some sort of organized event.  (Actually walking is not even a requirement as there were wheelchair participants.) I am not a distance runner, never have been, but it isn't about how you finish or when you finish or even if you finish.  It's about the journey to the finish line, who you're with, and everything that happens along the way.  Like noticing the scent of flowers, or seeing someone you know (Hi, Phyllis!) on the sidelines cheering you on.  Or spontaneously dancing. Or laughing hysterically with your sister.

It's all about the journey.

Just like life I suppose.

Wright Memorial Bridge leading from mainland NC to Outer Banks.

Three Things

It's Thursday once again, time to share three random things.


I'll begin.

1.  One week from today is Thanksgiving, which is really difficult to believe, particularly since I still have rotting  jack-o-lanterns on the front porch.

2.  Why is it that when I lived in Northern Virginia/metro DC, an area peppered with world-class restaurants, I didn't care a lick about sushi.  Now that I'm back in Mathews, where they think sushi is a mispronunciation of a pig call (sooey!) and the nearest place to get most anything sushi is 20-30 miles away (depending on where you go), I think about it every single day.

3.  This whole sushi conundrum reminds me of my hair.  In my younger years, my hair was as straight as a poker.  During the decade of great big honkin' hair (the 1980s), I permed it until it nearly disintegrated off my scalp, all in the hopes of achieving the tiniest bit of body and curl. Now that I'm old as dirt older, and straight hair is "in" at least with the teeny boppers younger set, my hair just wants to curl right on up, entirely on its own, without so much as an invitation to do so.

There's a lesson in all this, somewhere.  Life seems to be saying, "CBW, whatever you want, you aren't going to have at the time that you think you want it.  So you may as well accept and be happy with what you do have and get over it, for Pete's sake.  Either that or learn to make sushi yourself, daggone it."

From Thanksgiving to unattainable sushi to unruly hair to acceptance and giving thanks for what you do have vs. worrying about what you don't have.  There!  I knew I could tie all these random thoughts together into one big package. It begins and ends with being thankful.

Now it's your turn to share three things.  Anything at all.