Today, I received an email from my buddy, R, that read something like, “Let’s do the Warrior Dash!” Insufficient research and thirty minutes later… I was registered. R and I have been through a lot together, and despite the fact that I’m not all the way in shape yet, a quick review of those experiences lead me to believe we were ready to take it to the next level. Let’s take a walk down memory lane, shall we? Experiences with R that lead me to believe she’s the woman for me in a race that involves 3.01 miles of running/walking, a junkyard climb, wading through creeks, slithering through mud, climbing hay, and other shit:
1. I met R when our daughters were 6 months old, in a Gymboree class. There’s minimal cardio in a Gymboree class, but it counts as a sign. Incidentally, I took the class because I had no clue how to interact with an infant despite earning a bachelor’s degree in Human Development and Family Studies. R took the class to show off her Disney Princessesque singing voice. JUST KIDDING. (I mean she has the voice, but she’s no intentional show-off). FATE people, FATE brought us together.
2. The first three years are a blur, as we were both exhausted from being full-time out of the home working mothers with zero sleep and headstrong daughters, but just before our sons were born, or actually, just before her son was born, R and I took our girls to an inflatable wonderland place. R was extremely pregnant. The girls were playing in a toddler inflatable. The “walls” of the inflatable were about 3 feet tall, everything is toddler sized. As we talked, R’s daughter began yelling and crying because her little arm was sandwhiched in the inflatable. I calmly got up and began to walk over to the portion of the wall where her daughter was. R jumped up, supermaned herself belly first onto the inflatable, and army crawled to her daughter whilst yelling something along the lines of “don’t worry, I’ll save you.” In the same amount of time, I’ve calmly walked to where I can lean over and grab her daughter (if I’d needed to, but I didn’t, R had it handled). I looked at R, and she looked at me, and I said, “You do know you’re pregnant, yes?” And R, laid there and laughed until she cried (in a sing-song Disney Princessesque way), because she had actually forgotten that she was pregnant. My point? R is totally ready for the Warrior Dash! Ima’ follow her.
3. I did my first and only 5K with R. Ya, um, that was interesting. I had never done a 5K, and I thought I had to hydrate. I drank a lot of water, and as a result, I had to stop at every port-a-potty on the race course. R waited for me outside each port-a-potty along the way. When we reached the finish line, finally, they had closed it down. I have no idea what our time was. I know that R is not leaving me behind. And R, I do here solemnly vow that on Warrior Dash day I will stay away from water unless I’m swimming in it!
4. R and I did a fitness boot camp together. Day after every other day, in sweltering Texas heat, we kettle belled, and crunched, and almost threw up on ourselves together. R hates running. I love running. Together these two things mean that we run about the same speed. When I told her today that I’m running about a 16 minute mile, she said, “16 min. mile sounds GOOD. I don’t know, is it? Sounds good to me.” Yep, she’s the girl for me.
5. R was with me when this weight loss journey began. Oh ya. I ate the a la carte lentil soup with R in a restaurant in Istanbul (which WAS Constantinople, but now it’s Istanbul, not Constantinople…R loves this song). R watched me crawl to the toilet and pass out on the bathroom floor the next morning. I stayed alive completely dehydrated on the plane, then R and I ran like we were on the Amazing Race through O’Hare, with 5lbs of pack on the back, to catch our connecting flight. R, WE. ARE. SOOOO. READY FOR THIS.
So we’re ready right? Ya, still, I had a WTH?! moment a little later that evening. I’m good now. I’m good. It helps that we get a FURRY VIKING HELMET upon completion of the race. Seriously. How can one turn down a FURRY. VIKING. HELMET?!
We’re fully organized now. We have gained another fabulous team member, and owning to the fact that my neighborhood raccoons have been jacking my nightly jogs for laughs (that’s my interpretation anyway), we will be sporting matching raccoon themed t-shirts…potentially ears, tails, masks, and striped leg warmers. I do nothing half-assed. Okay, I do some things half-assed, but not crazy, stupid fun. Crazy, stupid fun I always do full assed. Always.
Viva La Raccoons! Or Go Nature Ninja Raccoons! (We haven’t voted on our shirts yet, but HOLLA’, we’re ready.)