In case you have somehow missed this about my personality, I am a dark, bitter, general malcontent. My friends often compare me to Ouiser in Steel Magnolias or Toby in West Wing. I’m reminding you of this now because knowing that, the next statement really makes no sense.
This weekend some friends and I participated in the Color Me Rad 5k. It’s one of those races where they throw color all over you while you run. I really can’t explain why.
Friday night before the race, Charlie looked at me, very confused, “So what are you doing again? And why? I don’t understand. You don’t get dirty on purpose.” He knows me.
I rose before 7 am Saturday. But I couldn’t make coffee because Charlie cleaned the coffee maker Friday afternoon and I couldn’t find the replacement filter.
Now I realize that you’re thinking this makes him a good husband to take initiative and clean things around here. It absolutely does NOT. It would make him a good husband to clean things around here and REPLACE THE FILTER.
At 6:45 on a Saturday morning is a terrible time for us to realize neither can remember where we stored the replacement coffee filters. So we’re banging around the kitchen swearing at each other about whose fault it is they were hidden so well. And of course it was mine, but if I was properly caffeinated, then I could THINK for a minute about what clever spot I might have put them.
We picked up Kyran and Sarah along the way, and we were on our way. We met up with the Dogtown crew at the race: Sarabeth, Alison and Whitney, plus Alison’s daughter Mary Polly and Sarabeth’s daughter, Elizabeth.
Kyran was REALLY excited. But Kyran sort of approaches the world with awe and wonder and happiness. I do not.
It was early. I had diet coke. I couldn’t remember how to get to the fairgrounds, even though I’ve been no less than 200 times in my life. I was annoyed. And then I realized this whole blessed event began in a field. I started threatening people about ticks and Lyme Disease.
Then it was time to take the before photos.
The race began. I pulled myself together. After all, I do actually like the Ronald McDonald House. Kyran made these arrangements for us and I needed to get my head right. So, I let them throw colored corn starch on me with a right good attitude.
Everything was fine until the green color station. That was when it’s safe to say the wheels came off the cart. This was a wet station. Most of the people at this station had sprayers which was actually kind of nice. It cooled you off a bit.
But two less than delightful young ladies were using the gallon jugs to refill the sprayers to throw colored water onto people. I got green water in the face, eyes, nose and soaked down my right side to my underpants.
I was really unhappy. Amy afterwards described the next half mile of my nervous breakdown like a wine: undertones of bitterness with long smoldering silences, punctuated with outbursts of colorful language.
It went something like, “There is no one I do not hate. Everything is awful. The world is a terrible place. Nothing will ever be good again.” I mean, my underpants were wet. I cannot be expected to have perspective when my underpants were wet.
Fortunately, it was a warm day. I dried out. My attitude rolled back around to not heinous again, mostly because Amy and Sarah started making me laugh so hard at my silly state of affairs.
We finished up. Of course, the happy part of our bunch looked even more delightful with a rainbow of color on them.
In case you were wondering, and I know you are, it takes 2.5 bottles and 3 glasses water, plus 2 mimosas to get the corn starch grit out of your teeth. It also take 3 showers to get the green and blue dye out of your arm pits. Oddly, that is the only place I was stained.
Charlie has begun to think of this race as miraculous. I’m not kidding. He really thinks this sparked an actual miracle in our home.
I put sheets over the back seat of the trusty Subaru to minimize the mess in the car. But cornstarch is fine, so some of it sifted through. After I took the sheets in to wash them, I vacuumed out my car.
He’s pretty sure he’s never seen me vacuum my own car in the nearly two decades we’ve known each other. And if cleanliness is next to godliness… this was a Color Me Rad Miracle!