Tuesday, February 19, 2013
It's that time of year when I sign myself and four unwitting friends/family members up for the Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon Relay. In case the italics isn't adequate enough to bring attention to the word 'relay,' I'll just go ahead and iterate it here with its own special statement: we are merely running the relay. I say this because each of the last two years some friend who reads this and obviously believes the best in me says in deep reverence, "Wow! You're running a marathon!" No, friends, no. I run marathons in my dreams; I run marathon relays in real life. Nevertheless, a relay can kick a person's bo-hiney into gear if she sets her goals high, and this year I have made a real doozy for myself: a 5K in 29:59 or less. Clearly either I also believe in myself, or else I hate myself. As Silas would say in his lovely, high-pitched two-year-old voice, "One or the other" (usually spoken with the air of a con artist as he gives me two equally preposterous options, i.e. "Mommy, should I eat Thomas candies for dinner, or should I skip dinner and just watch Kung Fu Panda? One or the other.").
This year the relay participants other than myself are BJ (as always), my beloved friend Chanda, her husband Landon, and BJ's brother Matthew. We have a really strong and fun team, and I'm excited. Matthew will take the first leg, which is a 10K and will be a good challenge for him. Matthew will hand off to me, running a 5K leg (in 29:59 or less, mind you), and then I will hand off to Landon, who is running the 12K leg. Surprise, Landon! I haven't told you that yet! Actually, Landon was a cross-country runner in high school, and even though he hasn't run a whole lot since then, this guy needs zero training and easily toasts us on race days. Then Landon hands off to Chanda, who is taking the fourth leg (also a 5K), and Chanda hands it off to BJ, who crosses the finish line for us after completing the last 10K. That's the plan!
My only demand as a team leader this year was that we had to have a cool name. I spent way too much time both trying to think of a great name and simultaneously pleading with my teammates to come up with something fabulous too. The end result was me thinking of nothing and my teammates forgetting to think of anything. So the weekend before last I sent an iron-fist text telling them all that if I hadn't received any cool ideas by Sunday night, I was officially naming us Hammer Time. And possibly creating a t-shirt with a silhouette of giant Hammer pants on it. (Okay, that last part I didn't tell them.) I intended for it all to be a legitimate threat; sadly, however, two of the four of them loved Hammer Time, and the other two were mortified but not enough to do anything about it. Hammer Time it is. At least I have my sight set on an incredible (for me) new running goal. Lucky for my teammates, I'm 2L2Q.