This, That, and the Curse of March

I did not end up racing on Saturday. I made it to the event site, where I was in the minority as a normally dressed runner, without tutu or tiara or other “diva-ish” accouterments. “Holy moly,” I grumbled to Scott before I’d even left the car. “Yeah, I’m really surprised you signed up for this one. It’s not really you,” he replied, and then pointed out a passing diva in a black tutu who was holding a cigarette in one hand.

Arrrrrrrrrgggggggghhhhhh. But no, I did not skip out of the race because of a little tulle. Tulle I can handle. Bacteria, apparently, is another story.

I woke up on Saturday morning with all the signs of a UTI. I thought that I’d be able to run the race anyway and ignore it, but the closer it got to race time the more apparent it became that going ahead with the 5k would sentence me to 25 utterly miserable minutes. I wimped out and took myself to the doctor instead.

Ah, March. You win that round. I don’t know how I’m going to get a race in this month, and that’s frustrating. There are a couple of options this weekend, but I’d rather not talk about them or sign up for any of them in advance. If I’m going to get a race in this month, it needs to be a sneak attack. I can’t let March know what I’m planning, because clearly it is out to thwart my best efforts and well-laid plans.

In other news, LilRunr was bitten at daycare this week. This annoys the heck out of me. I knew this would happen eventually. It’s pretty much inevitable. Get a room full of pre-speech toddlers, and SOMEONE is going to express their frustrations physically. I think I’d be more upset if LilRunr was the biter, but that doesn’t mean I’m not irritated. The little guy is just such a sweetheart. His current phase is wanting to share with everyone. He’ll deliver toys to the smaller babies at daycare, bring me a stuffed animal to hold, offer the cat his pacifier…sharing is a behavior I can wholeheartedly get behind. Biting, not so much.



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