Sunday, October 17, 2010

Kiss My Flat Irish @r$e, B*tch!!1! A SLOW 5k Race Report*

* Title inspired by this comment.
I am starting this race report at exactly 11:05 on Sunday morning. The official results of the 5k race I ran at 9:30 are not up yet because the ceremony for the race was scheduled to be held at 11:00 a.m. Obviously, I did not stick around for that ceremony, and I'll tell you why in just a sec, after I first note that my time was (I think) 24:25 and it was sooo slow, which I don't really believe to be the case, but I have to say that so that I may once again invoke the title of this post and say:

Kiss My Flat Irish @r$e, B*tch!1!!

But okay so here's why I'm not at the ceremony:

Teh 'Bride, who, as you'll recall, is a Bad Parent and left her son in my sole care for the weekend, is still in DC till tonight and so if I wanted to run this particular 5k race, sponsored by and held at the local middle school, I would have to convince Ian to go with me. Which I did easily enough. But only in theory.

Because a 10-year-old may say he's okay with being awakened at 8:00 a.m. on Sunday, but when actual 8:00 a.m. Sunday morning rolls around?

Yeah, not so much.

But I got him up, shoved some food down his gullet, made us some lunch for later because we wouldn't have a whole lot of time to make it after the race (more on that anon), and we headed to the school, 10 minute away, at like 10 to 9; check-in for the 5k being 9.

And so Mr. I'm-Getting-a-Three-Year-Head-Start-on-Being-a-Sullen-Teenager starts, you guessed it, acting like a sullen teenager as soon as we get there. Sitting on the curb. Not wishing Dad good luck. Sulking. Not getting anywhere near the starting line to see me off; asking when we can leave. The whole I'm-in-TORMENT nine yards.

Well, as I said before, ever since I fell and dislocated my shoulder, I run with my water belt on; that includes races — yes, even 5ks. And so I have my cell phone and I give it to Ian and tell him he can play the games on it, etc., if he gets bored. He takes it.

And when I'm lining up (they lined us up a full 15 minutes before start time), I'm looking back and there he is, all alone, walking sullenly farrrrr away from any other souls, and talking on the phone. I know he's called Teh 'Bride. Which is fine because she knew about this race and I figure she's giving him no quarter: "Your father took you to your ball game and got you new kickers and equipment, etc., the least you can do is give him a half hour, yada yada."

Because Teh 'Bride and I try to present a unified front in the face of the kid because we realize we're toast if we don't. He'll eat us alive.

But I'm tired because I stayed up to watch the fucking Phillies lose last night and then woke up at like 3:30 and couldn't get back to sleep. But I see Ian behind me and he's on the phone and he's walking sullenly and he's like a quarter of a mile away, it seems, and I figure I gotta get this race over as soon as possible.

Which I reckon might not be easy, since last year, the first year they had this race, it was so poorly marked that everyone accidentally ran at least an extra .2 miles on the way back because a turn was not marked at all. But in the flyers for this year's race, they made a big deal about having hired professional race people with the confidence-inspiring name of Pretzel City Sports to do the logistics and timing and despite their name, they did a good job and no one got lost.

So this year's 5k was actually 5k long, a vast improvement over last year's.

And with the thought of having to deal with an increasingly sullen Ian pursuing me throughout the thing, I actually ran it relatively quickly.

And when I got back, Ian was still on the phone with Teh 'B. and it turns out he'd stayed on the phone with her the whole time (Teenager: he was on the phone with a girl for a half hour; Little Boy: it was his Mom; Ruling: Tie). He was in a much better mood and he even said, "You were fast, Dad" but THAT DOESN'T COUNT, B*TCH!1! I WAS SLOW!1!

And so I promised him we wouldn't have to wait around for the awards ceremony, but they posted my tag quickly and I saw that I was 29th and after we went and got a bagel and water, we went back to the board and I saw that they were posting the tags for numbers 57, 58, 59 and 60 and so I knew that I was in the top half at least so that was good enough for me so Ian and I were outta there by 9:30 and off to get our boxed share from our CSA. (Mmmmmm ... Community Supported Agriculturrrre ...)

But then we also needed coffee, milk, and various other things so we came home and I showered and then we went ot to Stop N Shop and got coffee, milk, fruit, vitamins (yes, SteveQ, I still take them) and we came home and I fed Ian his early lunch and he's dressed for his game and Grandma just came over to go to the game with us and now I'm writing this and despite being a single dad for a WHOLE WEEKEND, I didn't kill or maim anyone. Much.

But I still maintain 24:25 is sloooooooow!
UPDATE 1:50 p.m.: In's game canceled (other team was unable to get a full 9 with such short notice); official race results still not posted.


  1. Phirst!

    24:25 is about my speed right now, so now mean comments (I'll even say that vitamin tablets, though no substitute for real food, are better than living on cheez doodles without them).

    Lidge looked okay in the game, at any rate.

  2. and I thought CSA was Confederate States of America.

  3. 24:25 not slow. at least by Flynn standards.

    Phils are going down!

  4. Clearly, you have not previously incurred the wrath of a mocked tranny.

    Watch your back, Heisenberg. Watch your ....

    Wait, with an ass that flat you probably can not see it when you look behind you, can you?

    Maybe if you did not run so goddamn fast you could actually maintain an ass. Just a thought.

    Not that I care or anything....

    But isn't that a PR?

  5. @SQ:"Vitamin tablets" what is this 1908? You keep your tablets between your tinctures and poultice?

  6. @RBR - It's not a PR. That'd be this one.

    Also, stop mocking SQ. Vitamin tablets revitalize the virile humours by dispelling malicious pneumas that enter the body through unprotected orifices and cause grievous agues.

    And you call yourself a scientist ...

  7. @RBR & GQH: Hahahahahahahah!

    When in old fogeydom I forget a word (like "capsule") I tend toward the more stilted choices.