My mom was in town last week. She came up to run the half marathon with me. We went up Saturday to pick up our packets and get some last minute race info. Then Sunday morning came REALLY early since we had to get up at 4:30 to get up to Deadwood in time to catch the bus to the start line. I kept telling people I had to catch the bus for the finish line and everyone would look at me funny and say that was their kind of race! I finally figured out what I was saying. Took me a while! The buses started leaving at 6:15. So, basically we waited at the start line for an hour since the race didn't actually begin until 8. What a great day! It was fabulous weather. Cloudy and cool with no rain. The trail was beautiful. Mom and I kept stopping to take pictures. Obviously we weren't that worried about time. We ran most of it and walked just a bit, especially at first. The first 3 miles were uphill and Mom isn't used to the altitude. But I don't care. I was just concerned with finishing. We ran together for most of it, but at about mile 10 we separated. My knees and ankles were hurting and I had to run. It hurt worse to walk. So, I finished a few minutes ahead of her. I really wanted to come across the finish together, but it was still wonderful to have that experience with her. Boy, did I bawl like a baby at the finish line. I could feel the tears and I was trying to hold them back, but I couldn't. The pictures are hysterical! My face is all contorted. The director of the race, Jerry, gave me a huge hug at the finish. LOL! I'm sure this surprises no one who knows me very well. I'm an emotional mess most of the time. Needless to say, I will not be purchasing a photo. I don't need extra reminders of what a big baby I am. I was definitely sore for a few days after the race, but not really muscle soreness. It was mostly in my joints. It was a lot of fun and I'm ready to sign up for the next one.
Here's something I discovered during the race that never occurred to me before. Marathons can be pretty disgusting. This is going to be too much information, so if you're squeamish I suggest you skip this paragraph. I don't know about anyone else, but before I run I gotta, ahem, clear out the colon. And at some point during a long run too. There is no sink to wash up in afterward when you're out in the middle of nowhere. And I didn't carry hand sanitizer. Then, you get to the aid stations and there they are holding your cup with their finger in it and you drink it anyway. And there we are grabbing with our bare hands orange slices from a big bowl and M&M's straight from the bag. Then there are all the people lined up to give you high-fives and such. Yuck! I shudder just thinking about it. Moving on--
On Tuesday Vince and I left the kids with my mom and went to Deadwood for a night. It was supposed to be a surprise for him, but I had to tell him a month ago because of his work schedule. Whatever. We stayed at the Bullock, which was nice. We got a non-haunted room. Thank you, Jesus! I would never have gotten to sleep. As it was, I didn't sleep well because every time I woke up I would scan the room for anything amiss. Vince? Snoring like a freight train. We had a good time. We just ate and drank ourselves silly and played Blackjack until we lost all our money. Good times. We took the motorcycle, which was fine on the way up there. On the way home, not so much. The back seat on that thing is not really made for passengers. My rear was already sore from the ride up and around town. Then I had to get back on there and ride home for an hour?! Ouch. At one point I was standing on the pegs to give my tush some relief. We spent the rest of the week showing Mom around the area. We went to get pedicures, took her to Old MacDonald's Farm and the winery, then to eat in Hill City. We drove around Mt. Rushmore-again-and also took her to Storybook Island. It was a good week. I was sad to see her go. I always cry when she leaves. See how pathetic I am? I'm especially sad because she kept doing my dishes for me. It was nice to be able to see the counters for a while. Nothing lasts forever I guess. I'm kidding, Mom! Love you!
My son keeps getting crazier and crazier. He's gonna drive me nuts. Everything is a gun. I'm not kidding. String cheese, cups with a straw, clothes hangers, his finger, you name it, he will shoot it. Vince got a picture of him the other day riding his new motorcycle with a toy gun shoved in the front of his diaper. We're in trouble. After lunch in a restaurant one day, the waitress said, "He's busy isn't he?" Yes. While waiting for my mom at the airport there was an older couple in the waiting area also. The lady asked how old Sam was and we talked about kids for a minute. Then she said, "He's loud, huh? Hey, Sam, do you have an inside voice?" No. He's either on or off. No dimmer switch. They moved to another waiting area. It's gotten to the point that I don't want to take him in public. He's embarrassing. He's all over the place and screaming and I have to chase him around giving him orders that he's not listening to. Makes me feel like a worse Mom than I already am. He got into trouble at the YMCA the other day for pinching and hitting kids. Please tell me he'll outgrow this stage soon.
Well, I should get off of here and at least make an attempt to clean up a little. The clutter is starting to take over. Also, my son just said the words "bubble gum" to me. That's bad. Very, very bad.
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