Race for the Cure

Today the boys and I ran in the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure to honor Grandma Darrell, who is a breast cancer survivor, and raise a little money and awareness for breast cancer research. I didn't know exactly how well this was going to go, since I was planning on running with the boys in the stroller. I signed them up too, so they would get a race number (this was their first race, after all) and presumably a T-shirt, but when we got there they were all out of youth size t-shirts. That didn't really matter, because I had made them their own t-shirts. We got settled, went to the bathroom (Note: An adult and several children will fit in a handicapped Port-a-potty!) and then lined up for the race. I knew we wouldn't be setting any records, so I set us up toward the back of the line. The gun went off and we sort of shuffled towards the start, the way it is in the back of a race, where the gun goes off and there are so many people you don't hit the line for a few more minutes. The boys excitedly ran out ahead of the stroller for a while, and they were so cute, most of the people around us were middle-aged women and their families, and the boys looked so tiny! Everything was great for a while, (like a quarter mile) then Connor tripped on his "Warriors in Pink" scarf that he had been running with, and Riley got his foot run over trying to climb back in the stroller. It had all the makings of a disaster, but we calmed down and took it in stride. We walked for a while, with the boys climbing in and out of the stoller as the mood struck, and they probably ran at least a mile of the 5K (3.1 mi) Connor might have actually run a mile and a half. He would run up ahead, laughing and calling us slowpokes! I do have to admit that it was kind of eating at me not to be able to go faster. I have the running bug now, and being in the pack with all the walkers made it hard for me to jog, even when both boys were resting in the stroller. I kept running around people on the outside of the cones, and I only managed to hit one poor lady with the stoller. (Actually this was at the beginning of the race—our jogging stroller is huge and it took a little bit to get used to maneuvering in the crowd.) Eventually though, I told myself to slow down a little and enjoy doing something cool with the boys and all these other people who came out to walk for a good cause. Eventually we made it, crossing the line in 53:28, which I think is a pretty darn good time for a three-year-old doing a 5k!

From Race For the ...

I guess I didn't realize how tired the boys would be after all that running, because we soon after had a "What in the world was mommy thinking?" moment. After the last race that I ran, we went to brunch with Daddy at a restaurant called Food Dance. The boys asked if we could go again, and since it was close by, I said we could go, even though I rarely take them to restaurants by myself. We walked over there, parked the stroller, and everything was fine until the food came (Jack's Baby pancakes). First, Connor dumped almost a whole container of syrup on his pancakes in the three seconds that I was looking at Riley instead, then FREAKED OUT when he tried to pick them up with the fork and they were all soggy. And when I say FREAKED OUT, I mean FREAKED OUT. I am talking theatrical screaming and hysterical crying over the pancakes. To the point that I scooped him up and swept him off to cry it out in the bathroom, leaving Riley sitting there at the table, eating his pancakes. I got Connor calmed back down, then as we were walking out the bathroom door, I see Riley coming up to us, saying he has to poop. Argh. I get Riley set up on the potty, then take Connor back to the table, where I swap one of Riley's dry pancakes for one of Connor's soggy one. Thus appeased, Connor goes to work on his breakfast, and I return to the bathroom to assist with wiping and hand washing. We then return to the table, where our waitress was kind enough to re-heat my food for me. I had taken about three bites when Connor said he had to go potty. I am thinking, "Are you kidding me?!?!?!?" Luckily it was just a pee, and pretty soon we were all back at the table, eating our food. That had to be the closest I have ever come to just throwing some money one the table and leaving without eating. WHAT WAS I THINKING? After we were done, I left the poor waitress a 12 dollar tip on a 28 dollar bill, and wrote her a note that said, "Thanks for putting up with us!"
I was so proud of them for all the running they did in the race, but they had just reached their limit. Unfortunately for me and all the other poor customers at the Food Dance restaurant, I didn't realize this until we had already ordered our food. After we finished with that disaster, we came home and the boys (and I!) took a 3 1/2 hour nap. Considering they don't even really nap anymore, that's a long one. They must have been exhausted.
So next year we will be back at it, hopefully walking with Grandma Darrell this time, but I think we will skip the trip to the restaurant.