Run, Stacey, Run!

Someone out there is having a great laugh at me. I will never make fun of my brother again... I will never make fun of my brother again... I got a little flyer for a race in the mail today... and the sick part is, I was tempted to train for it. Clearly the memories of my last adventure have faded a little TOO much...

I proudly keep a bib number in sight, my badge of honor from my last attempt. My pastor Wes thought it would be a real hoot for us interns to run this 12k Sound to Narrows thing with him. (12k=7.46 miles, for the "lay person"). I don't run. But that day I did. For at least three miles of that seven, I was a racing machine. Hey, a 1:45 finish is nothing to snicker at. Actually, it is, but the point is, I finished, and Lil finished, and ALL THE BOYS WUSSED OUT AND DIDN'T EVEN GO. I figured, hey, no pressure. No matter what, I've already beaten three people.

About halfway through the race, I wanted a bus to come hit me and put me out of my misery. I saw a lovely woodland squirrel sitting by his tree, and I HATED HIM IN MY HEART because I had to run and he didn't. Then there was an oldies cover band playing at the halfway point to motivate us. To me, there is nothing motivating about oldies music. I came close to hating them in my heart as well. Celebrate good times, indeed. Let's trade. I'll play guitar, and you can run this race, and then maybe we'll celebrate.

Nevertheless, I finished the race. And it was amazing the sense of accomplishment I felt. And the overwhelming sense of pain. (Lil and I both could barely move for four days... we mastered a less painful way of movement looking something like a cross between the funky chicken and the steps of a 100-year-old man). Wes, of course, looked no worse for his experience, but that is to be expected. Natural athletes inspire in me a bitterness that is difficult to put into words... :)

So we'll see what I decide to do. Crazy how there's actually a temptation to put myself in a place where I'm supposed to run. Again. Voluntarily. And pay $20 to do it. Bring on the pain!

OK I'm off... time to go see "The Notebook" with Jules & Amber & Brent. I'm wearing waterproof mascara and bringing 30 tissues. I've heard it's a doozie. Predictable? Probably. Sappy? For sure. Nothing better.