Race for the Curb
Saturday marked my second annual participation in the Komen Race for the Cure. Somehow, Cecile has managed to talk me into this two years in a row. Last year I had nothing better to do. This year, well, I had nothing better to do. Except sleep. She failed to mention that there is a category of participation called "Sn00ze" which means you can pay your $25 and not show up. Sounds good to me - had I only known.
RFTC requires a wake-up time of 7 a.m. on a Saturday morning (thank god I only live a block from the race sight), a 45-minute wait for the wall of race-goers to part in order to turn into the parking garage (also required a jump out of the car to assist the frazzled volunteer desperately trying to get the people to stop. I am quite sure that had it not been for my graceful jumping jack-style-arms-up-hands-spread-stop gesture we would've never made it. Even then the race-goers still tried to keep going although there were car wheels about to take out their toes), and a submersion into said sea of people waiting at the starting point in front of NorthPark bouncing to the likes of Celebration, Play that Funky Music, and My Sharona while waving their Susan Komen race towels (we arrived too late to get towels) into the air waiting for the Fun Run/Walk* to begin.
Once the race begin we found ourselves stuck behind "Team Taiwan" which had made a festive green Olympic/marching band-esque banner - a fun way to boost team spirit, but a certain way to slow traffic. We made several swift manuevers and pushed past Team Tawain, which were receiving spirited cheers from Jesuit high school freshmen volunteers: "Taiwan Rulz!"
Along the way we saw the aftermath of several wipeouts. All looked the same - victim being helped up/held by both arms by a slew of those concerned - wiping the grass/dirt off of scratched knees and t-shirts. More roadblocking.
Rounding the home stretch we saw a few front-yard tailgaters. Cecile was skeptical that their styrofoam cups contained alcohol at 8:30 a.m. But hey - I'm from Louisiana. Anytime folk are gathered with fat boy lawn chairs and styrofoam cups - I automatically assume there is drinking involved. And vodka does pair quite well with orange juice - I'm just saying.
Once we finished the race we scanned the promotional products alley (free stuff from Jamba Juice, Starbucks, Silk Soy Milk, Smoothie King, Subway, etc.) and determined there were too many people and too long of lines to wait for a 2 oz. shot of coffee. I did manage to snag a banana. Good thing we were meeting up with some of Cecile's co-workers at Kel's for breakfast.
If you haven't been to Kel's, they've got some good waffles. Not the fanciest place or the easiest to find. It's tucked behind a shopping center at Inwood and Forest. This will give you an idea of the atmosphere: Cecile kept asking if it was a truck stop.
Well there's race day for you. And my once a year attempt at doing something good for society - excpet for the check I write to SPCA every time they guilt trip me with those orphaned puppy mailing labels.
*There is no Run unless you want to risk certain trampling of small children/old people/dogs
RFTC requires a wake-up time of 7 a.m. on a Saturday morning (thank god I only live a block from the race sight), a 45-minute wait for the wall of race-goers to part in order to turn into the parking garage (also required a jump out of the car to assist the frazzled volunteer desperately trying to get the people to stop. I am quite sure that had it not been for my graceful jumping jack-style-arms-up-hands-spread-stop gesture we would've never made it. Even then the race-goers still tried to keep going although there were car wheels about to take out their toes), and a submersion into said sea of people waiting at the starting point in front of NorthPark bouncing to the likes of Celebration, Play that Funky Music, and My Sharona while waving their Susan Komen race towels (we arrived too late to get towels) into the air waiting for the Fun Run/Walk* to begin.
Once the race begin we found ourselves stuck behind "Team Taiwan" which had made a festive green Olympic/marching band-esque banner - a fun way to boost team spirit, but a certain way to slow traffic. We made several swift manuevers and pushed past Team Tawain, which were receiving spirited cheers from Jesuit high school freshmen volunteers: "Taiwan Rulz!"
Along the way we saw the aftermath of several wipeouts. All looked the same - victim being helped up/held by both arms by a slew of those concerned - wiping the grass/dirt off of scratched knees and t-shirts. More roadblocking.
Rounding the home stretch we saw a few front-yard tailgaters. Cecile was skeptical that their styrofoam cups contained alcohol at 8:30 a.m. But hey - I'm from Louisiana. Anytime folk are gathered with fat boy lawn chairs and styrofoam cups - I automatically assume there is drinking involved. And vodka does pair quite well with orange juice - I'm just saying.
Once we finished the race we scanned the promotional products alley (free stuff from Jamba Juice, Starbucks, Silk Soy Milk, Smoothie King, Subway, etc.) and determined there were too many people and too long of lines to wait for a 2 oz. shot of coffee. I did manage to snag a banana. Good thing we were meeting up with some of Cecile's co-workers at Kel's for breakfast.
If you haven't been to Kel's, they've got some good waffles. Not the fanciest place or the easiest to find. It's tucked behind a shopping center at Inwood and Forest. This will give you an idea of the atmosphere: Cecile kept asking if it was a truck stop.
Well there's race day for you. And my once a year attempt at doing something good for society - excpet for the check I write to SPCA every time they guilt trip me with those orphaned puppy mailing labels.
*There is no Run unless you want to risk certain trampling of small children/old people/dogs
posted by lauren at 4:14 PM
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