First, do not drive six hours in two days, to pick up your kid, or anyone else.
Second, do not help kid move out of dorm (OK, I didn't do so much of that, I admit she did most of it. Still, there was walking and carrying involved.)
Third, and perhaps most importantly? Do not have a gigantor fight with said kid two nights before the race, and then spend the day before the race being mad at each other, while standing around the Schuykill River for several hours, watching her teammates on their last race of the season.
Fourth, uncomfortable non-talking three-hour car-ride home? No. Don't do this either.
Are we all clear on these points? So much for the "Is it right, is it necessary, and is it kind?" theory. I knew I'd have plenty of opportunity to practice, and I wasn't kidding. I get a big fat F on my first attempt. But, ever the optimist! (as I know you all know I am!), I'm sure that I'll do better next time (and yes I started the fight and it is all my fault. For real.).
On to happier things! Like Mother's Day! And the Mother's Day 10k! The hilly Mother's Day 10k.
My first (and only 10k) to date was the Jingle All the Way, on Dec. 11, 2005, on the beautiful FLAT Haine's Point in D.C.:
Today: YMCA Mother's Day 10k (Did I mention this course was hilly?)
I will so TAKE THIS RESULT!
Number One Daughter and I reached détente last night, so she came with me this morning at the ungodly hour of 7:30. The weather was perfect; overcast, slight chill in the air, a bit of a wind. In addition to my usual pre-race jitters, this time I had the added fun of feeling guilty, plus my extremely uncoooperative brain was very very busy replaying every crappy word I'd said to NOD. Which led to some extreme gastrointestinal problems. Very. Bad. Problems.
This was a nice small community race to raise money for the Y. Very sweet. (Except for those effing hills.) The only real drama was right as we were lining up and I couldn't get the Shuffle to work. Have mercy! That would have been bad. Me and my thoughts? Alone for an hour? Arghhh. But I fiddled around and soon, I had the sounds of "I Will Survive" blasting thru my brain (right before "Cold Hard Bitch." So appropriate.). (A friend of mine made me a "run" set. Thanks S.!!)
As I hit mile 2, the finishers were coming back. Nice! I cheered them on. Getting to 3.1 wasn't too horrifying. But after the turnaround it was 30+ minutes of me talking to myself, to God, to random passers-by, to the guy pointing the way to go (he was funny. He did a cartwheel.). By now, I was running alone. This is when I really started the bargaining..."just make it up the hill, then you can walk." That went on for the last 3.1 miles, and the 27 hills that comprised the rest of the course. I am proud to say I ran every hill. I walked maybe 30 seconds three times, each time on the flat, which made no sense (if you're gonna walk, walk on a hill!) so I would then tell myself, "Self, it is flat here. No need to walk!"
I pushed myself down the last few blocks (NOD took video! I was flying to the sounds of John Lennon rockin' out with "Nobody Told Me There'd be Days Like This." Too, too true.)
The minute I saw NOD, and could think again, I apologized. For those entire 6.2 miles, that's what I was waiting to do.
I'm sure there are easier ways.