It's 8:10 pm. The kitties and the husband are sprawled on the couch. The temperature outside is 83 degrees. Oh, but it's a DRY heat. Argh. Yes, okay, there IS something to the humidity vs. dry thing (just having been to DC, I can say that yes humidity carries more heat) but I really don't care. When you're hot, you're hot. Hot is hot is hot!
OH and I keep reminding one another "we ran a 10k...we actually RAN a 10k..." because dude, we totally ran a 10k! Yesterday. The continual reminders might be from the heat, but I don't think so. It's more like disbelief that we didn't die from running a 10k for the first time. You might remember that we participated in this lovely 5k last month? It was quite challenging. Since that time, we've continued to train, but even then I wasn't sure I was ready for the 6.2 miles and what's more, that long-ass hill.
It was this crazy one where the first mile consists of one big old hill. Then, it's downhill and flat for the long, long finish. I have never run that far or done hills before, so I was a'skeered. I was so scared that I neglected to sign up in advance. I guess I wasn't sure if we were actually going to do it. Because I was ready to back out, I really was. Instead, we did it this way so we got to stress out over getting there early to register, then wait in the looooooong line for the bathroom, which we just managed to use before the start of the race.
I keep switching pronouns. I'll just say "I" from now on unless it makes sense to say "we".
The good news is that I learned there is another person on the planet more neurotic than I. It's true! (I had no idea.) She was immediately behind me in line for the bathrooms. As it got closer to 8 am - the start time of the race - she kept thinking she heard the "Star-Spangled Banner" music being played which would signal the start - and told us so and then asked if we heard it to, did we? did we? - while actively considering not going pee before in order to get in the pack for the start. I mean, what a nut. I was resolved that I was definitely going to pee before the race even if that meant running across the school's lawn to join up with the race in-progress, if need be. I consoled myself by saying that, "This is America. It's not like we'll get shot if we're not at the start by 8 am." Freedom rules!
There cannot be a new experience which involves myself that does not include some form of comical mistake or other. The Butte to Butte was no exception. The only thing new was that it happened at the end.
We'd completed this race, were all proud of ourselves and enjoying our whole not-dying achievement while milling around with the thousands of other people in the park after the race, drinking our free sports drinks. We thought we should look for the shuttle to take us back to the beginning. After a while we realized that, sadly, there was no shuttle at the end. There was a shuttle but that was only for the smart people who parked their cars at the END OF THE RACE, like the website said quite plainly. Oops.
All was not lost, however; we were near people who said they were going to catch a bus back to their car. I quickly deduced that these were smart people, since they knew the bus schedule, where to go to catch the bus and, oh yes, had brought actual shiny money to pay for the bus. Wow, it's so cool when you meet members of Mensa. So, we did the only thing left we could do: we followed them. Our chances were 50/50 that the busdriver would let us on since we only carried our car keys and a cell phone. I figured the cell phone was useful for calling a cab if need be, since the money was in the car at the end, and you pay taxi drivers at the end. The third, inexplicable option to turn our anticipated 10k into a 20k? Was NOT GOING TO FREAKING HAPPEN.
Long story short: the busdriver let us ride for free and so, we relaxed into a sweaty haze of gratitude.