It started maybe around 2 in the morning, the day of the race/run. The boy was crying in his room, in his crib, so I went in to check on him. The first thing that greeted me was the smell. He’d been sick in his crib, and it was all over the bed and his hair. It was the first time he’s ever been sick (except maybe spitting up when he was really little), and he was miserable and frightened. Wouldn’t you be, if you’d never experienced it before? He screwed up his little face, which turned bright red behind the tears, snot and vomit, as he screamed with fear and discomfort. Mommy’s comforting hug helped, but it didn’t take away the pain entirely.
Before it was through, he’d been sick 3 or 4 more times, and the smell was everywhere. We both finally got back to sleep an hour or so later, after a lot of tears and clean-up, etc.
It wasn’t an auspicious beginning to the day. What was I thinking, considering hauling the boy all the way out to Lafayette to sit in his jog stroller? Would I end up cleaning puke from the stroller, and the car, all day, rather than enjoying the run?
Long story short, I decided I’d rather regret taking him than regret staying home. As I drove to the race start, visions of the starts of races past — half-marathons, triathlons, 5Ks — danced through my head. We’d remembered to turn back the clocks, but it still seemed so early and quiet on a Sunday morning. It’s such an amazing feeling driving smoothly through quiet streets on the way to a race. I was so thrilled to be bringing the boy along with me. I think he caught some of the adrenaline in the air.
The run itself wasn’t so fantastic. I had to stop twice to get him into warmer clothes, as the autumn wind blows chilly even in the Bay Area. It was all along one of the town’s main drags, though the name of the run "Reservoir Run" had promised more natural vistas. And I wasn’t feeling too energetic. I hadn’t trained hardly at all, and I had a big Domino’s binge the night before the race (oh, boy. better not even mentioned). But I did run a decent amount of mile 2 (downhill) and felt like I at least got some much-needed exercise. We crossed the finish line in style, running strong.
After we finished, I let the boy out of his stroller and he ran around, getting such joy from things like stepping up and down curbs. Not to mention all the dogs, which he is crazy about. He’ll chase after a dog for miles. Ah, the joys of running. And family. And the amazing autumn weather. So glad we went…