Running as a Spectator Sport

So, yesterday was the State Farm run in Lincoln.  I have done this race annually for many years and really like it.  The 10 mile event is great to gauge your fitness for the Lincoln half...the race is run on the Mopac trail and is fairly protected from wind.  There are water stops, athletes to run with, and people cheering.  The 5k is flat and fast.  (Plus most of the really fast people run the 10 mile--probably the reason I was able to win a couple years ago.) Philip was signed up for the 10 miler and I had registered for the 5k.  As of Friday night, I still wasn't sure if I was going to run it...I'm still not where I'd like to be and not sure if I can mentally handle another train wreck of a race. 

Between the facts that our babysitter cancelled last minute (though a friend did say he'd watch the boys for the twenty-something minutes that it would take me to run) and that Quinn was being an absolute bear that morning, I bowed out.  The new plan was to cheer Philip on.  As we had 14 miles on the docket for our half training, Philip planned on running two miles beforehand and two miles after the race.  We loaded the boys up in the stroller and off Philip went.

 After picking up packets, I pushed the boys around for awhile and tried to keep Quinn happy.  We cheered loudly for the WRN ladies competing and for Philip, and meandered around long enough to watch the 5k start and finish.  (And, just an FYI, there were several fast ladies who would have kicked my butt.  It's probably okay that I didn't race.)  At this point, it became very clear that it was going to be difficult for me to keep Quinn entertained while Philip still had well over an hour on the course, plus his extra two miles.  I ran the boys back to the truck and frantically tried to load up Quinn while Anders toddled off.  We made our way to Hy-Vee (I really needed some delicious deli meat) where I made the mistake of sticking my boys in one of those car carts.  I'm not sure if you've ever driven one of those, but they are REALLY hard to steer.  I mean really hard. I accidentally rammed that thing into an Easter display by the flower shop.  After my small wreck, Anders started grabbing

for the breakables, and I must have looked flustered enough that an employee came to assist me.  He pulled the car away from the display and told me that maybe the double decker car cart would be a better choice next time (apparently it's easier to steer).  Off we barreled to the deli department.  After getting one pound of choice turkey and half a pound of sharp cheddar, we headed off to the dairy section with two gigantic pieces of sample cheese, one for each of my boys.  Since Anders can't eat it, there is Quinn stuffing tons of cheese in his mouth.  Whatever.  JUST.NEED.SOME.MILK.  Two gallons of milk later, we belted to the front of the store.  We had a finish line to get to!  I stuck Quinn in his car seat first (he runs away faster than Anders), and then buckled my second child.  As I was stuff the groceries into the truck, a family came up to me asking if I was done with that darn cart.  Yes, for goodness sake!!!! Take that thing away!  (And, just a side note, my husband's truck is BIG.  I can't zip around as fast as my car.)

I was getting really nervous that we were going to miss Philip at the finish line.  How horrible would that be?! 10 miles is pretty far, and I know what it's like to look forward to seeing your family at the finish line waiting and cheering you on for those final steps.  I didn't even bother lugging that stroller back out.  I hoisted Anders out and held on tight to Quinn's hood so he couldn't get away from me. (This, by the way, made him even more cantankerous than he already was.)  We saw Philip's childhood pastor, who informed us that we should be safe "judging by the people who were currently finishing".  I hauled my children up the hill and we waited as patiently as you can with two toddlers for daddy to finish.  When he came up the hill, we screamed excitedly and then headed to the finish line.  And we literally stood right at the finish.  So Philip would have no choice but to take one of these two children.  Philip scooped Anders up and gave him a big hug at the same time I accidentally let go of Quinn's hood.  Off he went.  Philip told me he had to get the final two miles in, so off I went to find Quinn amongst the crowds with Anders on my hip.  (I was starting to regret not running the 10 mile myself.)

I was so exhausted from that race. And.I.didn't.run.  

My next task upon getting home was to hop on the treadmill to get my 14 miler in.

Isn't being a runner a great thing?! :)