Poppa wasn’t sure if Camille would be up to the Shamrock Run, as it’s a big event, and she’s never done anything like it before. As it turns out, her attitude was “Faster, Dammit!” and “More!!”
Camille’s Momma Christina was definitely there cheering us on in spirit, but as she has something that I am told is called “Common Sense”, she prefers to do her running indoors in a clean room. I chose to run my first race in the middle of 35,000 people of questionable sobriety, pushing a gleeful little speed freak in a wheelchair, and Dear God I hope that was dog poop I cleaned off my shoe.
Normally, I only run when being chased or, for example, escaping from a burning building. As a dancer, my endurance is great, but my body really isn’t into going a long way in a straight line. I need a lot of motivation – for instance, a little girl who in another life would have been a jet pilot and/or rock star. Honestly, I think she could be the reincarnation of Buckaroo Banzai. Who I am aware is fictional, but some days I’m not sure that we aren’t.
Knowing Camille’s taste, I built us quite a playlist of loud music; a . . . let’s say eclectic . . . mix of Irish, Rap and Rock. Blasting this out of her little portable speaker is probably the only reason that we didn’t kill anybody – they could hear her coming.
Since it was our first big run, I chose the 5k, which is a little under three miles. I’m pretty sure we went at least four, zigging and zagging to go fast enough for my running buddy while avoiding assault charges, EMTs, and possibly a priest. My recorded time was a twelve minute mile, which isn’t zippy, but given the all the extra to-ing and fro-ing, we were probably closer to nine, which is not too shabby for a first race. Without the obstacles, we could probably have gone even faster.
I had assumed that we would be the slowest runners there, which definitely was not the case. I’m just glad she doesn’t have a cattle prod.
And as for length? Camille bounced, partied and hollered for the entire race. The only meltdown we had was about 100 yards past the finish line, because why the hell is Daddy slowing down, and let’s keep going!! And I was more charged than exhausted, largely from the running with a kid who is probably as crazy as I am.
The best part of the day? How everybody treated Camille. Talking, waving, high fives, complementing her excellent taste in music, telling me how cute she is . . . treating her like her rock star self. The awesome Providence staff was super excited about her outing, and had her dressed up in her green “Kettlebells – Because Running Sucks” t-shirt. Nobody batted an eye, because they know her attitude. And our teammates in the 8k were so excited to see Camille at the starting line, you’d have thought Macklemore dropped by.
Next time? 8k, definitely. I’m renting a racing wheelchair, to reduce rolling resistance so we can go even faster. And Camille would have liked a bigger boombox, so we’ll probably do that next time, because, you know, safety.