Some Saturday Shenanigans

Last Saturday Riley and I completed our traditional "first race of the season". For the past 4 years this has been the 5K for Education, which benefits local schools and is always held in March, beginning and ending on UNC's lovely campus. Now, since it's so close, and by this point we have the commuting and parking and whatnot down to a system, I figured we didn't have to leave our house until 8:25, for the 9 a.m. start.

So that morning I got up, dressed in my pre-Spring exercise layers, and puttered around the house waiting for our scheduled departure time. It did strike me as a bit odd that I didn't bump into Riley, since he's usually the naturally earliest riser of Team WestEnders, but I just assumed he was hanging out quietly in his room and not in the mood to talk quite yet. But at 8:23, I tapped on his door to issue our version of a sports "Two Minute Warning"...and found him seated in a slumped position on the edge of his bed, yawning and sleepy-eyed. When I told him we'd be rolling out shortly, he admitted that he'd only opened his eyes a few minutes ago, and added, "I thought you'd wake me up at 8!" "Um...dude, I haven't been your alarm clock since, oh, about 4th grade!" I replied, to which he agreed, but also remarked that for some reason he was feeling extra-tired that day.

Well, regardless of how bright-eyed and bushy-tailed we were, we had a date with 3.1 hilly miles, and it wasn't going to wait. Thus we found ourselves lining up with over 1,100 other chilly gluttons for punishment--I mean "fitness enthusiasts"--waiting for the starting gun (or, you know, "air horn"). As it turned out, own experience proved to be less-than-peppy and slower-than-usual on this particular day...but I finished, and that's really all that matters, right? And as expected, Riley cruised in waaayyy before me--but he thoughtfully stationed himself at the end so he could cheer his considerably pokier parent across the line.

When I asked how his run had gone, he gave a stereotypical adolescent boy response: a nonchalant shrug and "Eh, it was fine." Knowing him as I do, though, I asked a casual follow-up question, "What was your time?" to which he admitted, "19.06." Uh-huh...so, a sub-7-minute mile, then...nice (especially for someone who just rolled out of bed, yeah? I swear, teenagers...). What he didn't bother to mention, meaning that I had to find out later, by checking the official results on the website, was that he'd also come in 2nd overall with that time--earning him a medal that we didn't stick around to pick up, because he claimed he was cold and wanted to go home and stretch. (He might be the most attention-averse child EVER, y'all...)

Anyway, in a rare occurrence, I actually had another event later in the day: a...dramatic reading, if you will, to benefit our bootcamp leader's non-profit organization, which provides books to underprivileged kids in the Durham area. (Right? Exercise and education: two things near and dear to my heart!) Another of our esteemed workout buddies had set up the shindig, reserving a portion of a restaurant's outdoor rooftop seating section for us to present various classic and contemporary kids' stories to the friends and munchkins who showed up to listen.

Sounds fairly straightforward...except it ended up being QUITE the multimedia extravaganza, with everyone getting super-into their performance and going above-and-beyond your run-of-the-mill "say the words and turn the pages". For example, there was the duo who chose to deliver the rousing party tale called Dragons Love Tacos--while fully decked out in a taco costume and a dragon onesie. Then came Tienes un Pajaro en la Cabeza! (You have a bird on your head!), complete with finger puppets, a "nest", and plastic eggs to demonstrate the adorable narrative.

A speech pathologist lent her considerable skills to a spirited, language-enriched version of the timeless classic Where's Spot? Next a local author got the crowd involved in her own creation, Camp Wannatippatrashcan, by acting out a group of raccoons hunting for snacks...and mischief. And yours truly teamed up with yet another fellow SLP (because apparently we travel in packs) to treat the crowd...and The Very Hungry Caterpillar...to our very best read-aloud + ASL interpretation.

Honestly, I'm not sure who enjoyed it more--the tots in attendance, the parents who brought them...or the grown-ups who got to ham it up like big overgrown goofballs in front of an appreciative audience. It was not only a total blast, but with the donations collected from those who came to support the soiree, our fearless Champion of Literacy reported that she'll be able to purchase 50 books for the cause. Win...WIN!

And there you have it...an uncharacteristically action-packed Saturday o'fun. Thank goodness for Sunday--and that I no longer feel the need to spend St. Patrick's Day in bars--so we can rest up before we reset the treadmill and do it all again....ha! Here's to a quiet week...fingers crossed!