It's getting to be a regular thing for us.
Brenda Starr and I decided on Monday to do the Color Dash on Saturday.
Somehow, a 5K doesn't seem that daunting any more.
We're each walking with poles, which elongate our stride while providing just enough reassurance. They are equipped with curved rubber tips; Nordic walking poles rather than hiking poles, to be precise.
We arrived early, secured perfect parking, and had a picnic.
The System, a gift from Basil St. John, had plaid cloth napkins and real plates and cutlery and with lox for protein and Simply Orange juice in the tiny china coffee mugs for Vitamin D, we feasted.
There were food trucks, had we been less prepared.
I was introduced to the concept of the poutine, and was left wondering about the person who would eat fries and gravy before exercising.
We arrived ridiculously early, and had plenty of time to watch the pre-race festivities.
There was Simon Says and Macarena like line-dancing
and there were many tutus.
There was only one yeti (lurking at the right edge of the photo).
The emcee introduced Ben's Bells, the charity reaping the benefits of our participation, and we were off. Pink clad volunteers (like these)
were stationed every half mile or so, cheerfully tossing brightly dyed corn starch as we passed by. The sun was out, the breeze was cool, the path was flat and paved, and we only paused twice for water breaks. We never rested.
The course was a bit shy of the promised 3.1 miles, but we calculate that we covered that much between the rest room and the picnic table and the pre-game and just getting to the starting line.
We were tired and ready to be done and very proud ... and colorful.