in which I get colorful

So none of the photos loaded, because I tried a different uploading technique which was apparently a terrible idea. Photos are now there!

Three words/phrases that do not describe me:

  1. Visual artist
  2. Cat person
  3. Athletic

It is the third one I would like to particularly focus on. Because in spite of the fact that I can hardly tell a soccer ball from a basketball, and that I have faked injury multiple times to get out of participating in various sporting events, this past Saturday, I found myself standing at the starting line of a 5K with a number safety pinned to my tshirt.

???????????????????????????????Fortunately, it was not your average 5K. It was the kind of 5K where you get colorful chalk dust thrown at you.

And fortunately we did not do much running.

Team DFTBA—which consisted of me, the MT, 14, and a friend who is making her blog debut, so let’s call her Rose Tyler—made the color run into a casual walk rather than anything that required athletic prowess, primarily because 14 is the only one out of us that would have had the stamina to run a 5k. And it was 3 to 1 in favor or walking, overwhelmingly against 14 and her physical fitness.

IMG_7094

I have never done a 5K that wasn’t elaborately themed. I’m not really into running, so there has to be a big push1 for me to actually get out and put my trainers on. The other run was a mud run, which was only slightly dirtier than the color variety.

IMG_7103

But it ended up being a lovely morning. In spite of being robbed of my usual Saturday morning lie-in, it was lovely and cool, and I got to spend time with friends I don’t see very much. Except the MT. I see too much of her2. I have always loved walking, which I know is a bit odd, but I think it’s a residual of my year in Europe. Wherever it comes from, it couldn’t have been a better morning for a walk through downtown Salt Lake while people threw handfuls of dyed cornstarch at you.

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Points go to my father, who I asked to come and take pictures, and he ended up walking the entire race with us, even though he didn’t register3. He stayed on the sidewalk, out of the line of fire.

He also took what is one of my new favorite pictures ever, in which I appear to be levitating out of an orange cloud.

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Oh to be young and weird in Salt Lake City.

 

  1. Other than the whole charity thing
  2. Before the race, the MT who, like me, is prone to fits of irrational anxiety, almost didn’t do it since she was concerned everyone else would be running and we would be humiliated by our inevitable last place finish. If it were the podracing scene in Star Wars, we would be that one guy who never makes it off the starting line. But I dragged her there, on account of she had already paid the entrance fee, and she calmed down significantly when she saw children at the starting line. Also dogs. So we wouldn’t lose after all.
  3. I say this like it was some tremendous feat, but we really weren’t that hard to keep up with. We were being lapped by children. There were actually times when my father ended up ahead of us. Which was embarrassing.
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