Whiner Wednesday: April 3rd Edition

I started working out a gym about a year ago...I go five days a week, Monday through Friday, and spend 45 minutes huffing and puffing and sweating and grunting, all in an effort to fight gravity and fight aging, with every bit of effort I can give. My trainer is an ex-Marine, and he likes to pretend that we’re all brand-new recruits going through boot camp, rather than a bunch of middle-aged women who haven’t seen their twenties in...well...over twenty years.

Sometimes, when he tells us to “Drop and give him twenty” - or something along the lines of - I will protest, half-heartedly, with groans, sighs, and curse words said under my breath. He and I finally came to an arrangement where I am allowed to whine only on Wednesdays - “Whiner Wednesday” - as I call it - and it works out well. He doesn’t have to listen to me protest the other four days of the week, but I can let him have it on that one, glorious day that comes mid-week. It’s a win-win.

So, in that spirit - I’m going to do a Whiner Wednesday post today...talk about what is going on my life this past week...and perhaps groan, sigh or cuss under my breath - but also post when I think things are positive....

So, without further ado, here we go...here’s how the past week has gone:

What I’ve Been Doing

Whew. A busy week.

Hubby and I celebrated our 20th anniversary by heading to the place where it all began, the Grand Street Cafe, where we had our first date. We had a delicious dinner with a yummy appetizer of potato skins, that didn’t look like any potato skins I’VE ever had before. But they were Nom Nom Nom DELICIOUS!!

Seriously - does that even LOOK like potato skins??!! But Oh. My. God. They were sooooo good. I think I licked the plate.


That evening, Hubby presented me with 20 gorgeous coral roses - one for each year we’ve been married. Awwww. He so sweet.

Over the weekend, besides watching some of the March Madness of NCAA Tournament Basketball (and here I MUST insert, “Go War Eagle!!” Yes, my beloved Auburn Tigers have made it to the Final Four - squeeeeeee!!!), I spent some time with girlfriends. Sunday morning was brunch with unlimited mimosas at a local restaurant:

That evening, I spent some time with a good friend, Robin, who I see on a regular basis to discuss our passions: running, Disney and our family. Robin lives not too far from me, but I met her in an online Facebook group dedicated to running and Disney. It was bizarre to find out she lives within five miles - and is about my age - and so we make it a point to get together once a month and discuss our next races, or our next Disney trip - or just life. Girlfriends are the best.

Today, I had lunch with another girlfriend, who I met 15 years ago, and who I try to see as much as possible - but because of life, sickness, appointments, work, etc - I haven’t seen in six months. We were LONG overdue - so we had a lot to catch up on. Sorry, waiter - I left you a good tip since we took up the table. Hee hee.

What Book I Am Reading

The book I’m currently reading is called, “The Elephant in the Room: One Fat Man’s Quest to Get Smaller in a Growing America”. The author is Tommy Tomlinson...and I am seriously hooked. This guy can REALLY write a sentence - and I find myself chuckling out loud as he paints pictures with his words. A good read, so far - I recommend it.

What I Am Watching

My guilty pleasure has been binging on “Santa Clarita Diet”, which can be found on Netflix. It stars Drew Barrymore and the always-gorgeous Timothy Olyphant - and is the sick-but-funny chronicles of a suburban mom who turns into a zombie. It’s hysterically funny in a sick, twisted way, and I can’t stop watching. I recommend it.

What I Am Listening To

Old school. My favorite jam lately has been rocking out to The Steve Miller Band. I saw them in concert many, many years ago, and they’ll always be a favorite. Yes - I recommend. Obviously...hee hee!

How I Am Feeling

Well...if you were wondering when the whining was going to start, HERE WE GO!! Woot woot! Are you excited??!!

First, my allergies. Or sinuses. Or whatever it is. I DON’T KNOW AND IT’S DRIVING ME CRAZY. I. Am. Miserable. I can’t breathe. I can’t sleep. Headaches, drainage, sinus pressure - medicine, humidifiers, Kleenex - an endless carousel of dealing with some unnamed beast, and I am frankly tired. So, tomorrow I am heading to an ENT for some answers. I am hoping, praying and praying some more that I am not looking at sinus surgery FOR THE SECOND TIME. Gah.

Second, my elbow. I hurt it. It hurts. It doesn’t stop hurting. It has hurt for months. So - I broke down and saw an orthopedic doctor last week, who said, “Physical therapy for YOU!” And so that is what I’ve been doing. And that hurts. Gah. But I am hoping, praying and praying some more that it will make it better.

I thought that physical therapy for an elbow would be a piece of cake. I thought wrong. It kicks my butt every time I go in. Today, I got a nice steroid patch on my arm, so we’ll see if that brings some relief.


So - that’s my week. No more whining. Really, other than my nose and my elbow, there’s not much to whine about...and I’m hoping to get those fixed, right??!!

Here’s to another week, and here’s to doctors, medicines, drugs, and spring. Whee!

Twenty Years Married

Twenty years.

Twenty-freakin’-years.

Twenty years since I said, “I do” to this man...and he said, “I do, too” to me.

Wowza.


We started dating in November...were engaged by December...and married by March. March 26, 1999.

It was a second marriage for both of us, and not wanting the big, fancy wedding (been there, done that), we both opted for something smaller - more intimate - and so we tied the knot in a small wedding chapel in Las Vegas.

I think we had both learned at this point that “marriage” isn’t about the wedding ceremony - or all of the trappings - but it’s the day—to-day...the nitty-gritty...the tiny, microscopic things that arise each day that must be dealt with.


We had six kids between us at this point, with another one on the way...and we privately vowed to each other that we would always put each other first, and NOT let the kids come between us (we’d seen the scary statistics of second marriages that end in divorce - especially those with children - gah.) We stuck to this vow, as hard as it was sometimes - keeping the parental unit strong above everything else - and it’s worked.

Twenty years.


He gets me. He makes me laugh. He spoils me. He gives me the freedom to spread my wings and soar, and he’s there when I sometimes crash and burn from trying to soar to high. He gives me the independence that I so desperately needed when I met him, and yet he is there when I need that companionship, that support, that love, that quiet voice that keeps me calm in crazy storms.


He brings me chocolate milk and cookies every night before bed. He runs my bathwater. He warms my towel in the dryer so it’s nice and toasty on a cold, winter morning. He indulges my passion for Disney and handbags. He pushes me to eat better, exercise better, just DO better, period.


Twenty years.

Happy anniversary to the love of my life, my husband.

Looks like we made it.

And here’s to twenty more, and then twenty more after that.

Peace.

Rude, Much??!!

Sometimes, the things in life that are “supposed” to make our lives easier, actually lead to more frustration.

Such as autocorrect.

Today, I was texting with one of my sons...I’m trying to set up a photo shoot with my kids, and I was attempting to tell my son the location of where I wanted the photo shoot. There’s a beautiful park close to our home, with an enchanting waterfall...the park is located at the corner of two streets, Pryor and Chipman Road.

Which is what I was trying to type.

Autocorrect wasn’t having any of that, though - “Chipman” doesn’t exist in Autocorrect World, as I found the hard way:

How rude!

I really DO hate autocorrect sometimes.

Sigh.

My Big Fat Fabulous Birthday

I love birthdays.

Birthdays are my favorite.


I celebrated my 54th birthday last Saturday, and YES, by golly, I'm telling you how old I am, because I'm DAMN proud of EACH and EVERY year that I've lived on this earth, and I'm not about to hide my age - or my wrinkles - that I have EARNED, thank you very much.

Ahem.


And although I've enjoyed EACH and EVERY one of those birthdays, I have to say that THIS birthday celebration, spent at home with my family, was extra special. Which is a pretty bold statement to make, considering that I have spent my birthdays past in such fabulous places as Rome (2009) and Paris (2015).

Perhaps this birthday was the Best. Birthday. Ever. because of the FABULOUS birthday present that Hubby presented me with…more on that later…but if you pay attention, I'll sprinkle some one or two clues throughout this and perhaps you can guess what he got me.

Or perhaps not.

We'll see. Hee.


Since celebrating a birthday is too FABULOUS to condense into a mere 24 hours, I decided to celebrate an entire birthday WEEKEND - because 72 hours is what is needed to pack in all the fun and fabulousness.


So, Friday night was spent at a Kansas City Royals game - because as I've said before, it's pretty much tradition from when I was 7 years old - spending my birthday at the ballpark. Although you'll be pleased to know that I no longer don my baseball glove when I head to the ballpark, in hopes of catching a fly ball. I always sorta' looked like a dork when I did that before, so those days are gone. And as I've said before, I have been a huge, HUGE, baseball fan as far back as I can remember (Hey look!! There's a clue!!).


It wasn't just ANY baseball game, though…it was the annual celebrity Big Slick weekend, where a bunch of big celebrities head to town to raise money for a local children's hospital here in town. We're talking Paul Rudd, Eric Stonestreet, Kevin Pollak, Jason Sudeikis, and Jeffrey Dean Morgan, among others (What a hunk - and why did they have to kill Denny off on "Grey's Anatomy"??!! Gah. My heart died a little that day and the show was never the same. But I digress.)


Here's Paul Rudd (a Kansas City native, by the way) sporting a Kansas City Royals World Series ring…which brings us to Clue #2.

So, we watched a FABULOUS softball game with the celebs, and then afterwards, watched a FABULOUS game with the Royals, who trounced the Detroit Tigers, 10-3. Squee!


Saturday, the day of my ACTUAL birthday, I woke up and got in an early 7-mile training run. I wore a new bright and colorful running skirt for the occasion, as it was important to appear FABULOUS while drowning in sweat.


Can you see me now??!!


However, it became quickly evident that although I may have LOOKED fabulous, I must have smelled like rotting fruit, as every horse fly in five counties quickly surrounded and swarmed me while running. That might be okay if not for the fact that I run with my mouth open - which meant that I almost, ALMOST swallowed a few of those flies. Gah.


Thankfully, no flies were harmed during the run, and my youngest Daughter then treated me to a FABULOUS brunch at a little restaurant here in town. Gluten-free eggs benedict were on the menu, and I pretty much licked my plate clean. Hey - 7 miles will do that. And when the waitress heard it was my birthday, she presented me with a complimentary gluten-free chocolate cupcake, because EVERYONE should have a chocolate cupcake for brunch!!!


Um, YUM!



Saturday afternoon was spent chillaxin' at the house, acknowledging birthday wishes on Facebook, chatting with my Mom on the phone (she's in Florida), chatting with one of my sons on the phone (he's in St. Louis), and chatting with another son on the phone (he's at work).

That evening, Hubby and I headed down to the Westport area of Kansas City, to dine at a very small, but very delicious, restaurant, called Room 39. We did the tasting menu, which was TO DIE FOR. Seriously, four courses of FABULOUSNESS and deliciousness that was fresh, tasty and absolutely stunning in the presentation. And to finish, I indulged in an Expresso Martini, a concoction of 360 vodka, expresso, Bailey's, Kahlua - but mostly vodka.


Cheers!!!


I'm not sure what happened after dinner…I'm blaming it on the 360…but I'm sure it was all good. ;)


Sunday was Father's Day, and we were having a big party at the house to celebrate both holidays - because I've always been generous like that, sharing my birthday with Father's Day. I spent the first part of the day getting everything set up to PARTY - and by 3:00 pm, the kids, grandkids, nieces, and other family had arrived.

Being a FABULOUSLY hot day, Hubby took everyone out for a boat ride on the lake, while others kayaked or swam. We had the Royals game on the boob tube, and in true Royals fashion, they eked out a win, 2-1, in 13 innings.


Captain, my Captain



Soon, it was time for cake and presents - the BEST part!!! Boy, my family knows me well, as I received some really cool stuff:


FABULOUSLY cool coasters, portraying my love of Kansas City and baseball!!!




a FABULOUSLY stylish Kansas City Royals scarf, so I will be FABULOUSLY dressed at my next game!!!




a FABULOUS exquisite Pandora bracelet, complete with a Mickey Mouse charm and wings, to represent my running!!!



Soon, boo, everyone had left, and Hubby then presented me with his gift…and here is when I pretty much died, DIED, I'm telling you.

Inside a card is a piece of paper, folded up, with this poem on one side:




And on the other side of the paper, there was this:



You guys.

That's a World Series ring.

THAT'S A WORLD SERIES RING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was stunned. I was shocked. I was speechless.

For a second.

After I processed it, I was pretty much like someone who just won the lottery, but can't quite believe it.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS??!!" I squealed.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME??!!" I squealed again.

"IS THIS A JOKE??!! PLEASE DON'T TELL ME THIS IS A JOKE!!!" I begged…as I literally broke out in goosebumps.

It's not a joke. My ring is on order, and I will receive it sometime this summer. No, it's not this exact ring, as that's the big honkin' men's version, and I would never be able to wear something that big. My ring will be the more dainty, but still FABULOUS, women's version.


And this is why this birthday was so amazing.

I loved spending time with the family. I loved the Facebook wishes. I loved the party and picnic on Father's Day. I love the fact that I have an amazing Hubby who totally gets it; totally gets that I am the biggest Kansas City Royals geek out there, and this gift was truly winning the lottery for me. I've stuck with my team for 40+ years, through the bad years (of which there were many), and the good years (of which there were few)…and my loyalty has never wavered.

Sigh.

Life is fabulous.

Peace.

Driving My Dad Crazy: Three Things

It still hurts…but it's not quite the punch in the gut that it was a year ago.

I'm talking about Father's Day…to be celebrated this Sunday, June 19th.


Losing my father in October 2014 meant that last year, Father's Day was going to be GUT-wrenching. The first year of grief is such a bitch, with all of the "firsts" - "first" Christmas without him, "first" birthday without him - and yes, "first" Father's Day without the man whom I loved more than anything.

Gah.


When we were presented with an opportunity to be in Europe last year during this time, I jumped on it - as I knew that the whirlwind of sightseeing and traveling would temporarily soften the blow of dealing with my first Father's Day without my father.

And it DID help, somewhat. I wasn't on Social Media that day, so I wasn't blitzed with thousands of "Happy Father's Day" posts from well-meaning friends and family, who were sending good-intentioned well wishes to their OWN dads on Facebook.


This year, though, we're here at home, and I've steeled myself to be strong on Sunday. It IS easier the second year of grief, for sure.


But all of these thoughts of the upcoming holiday had me thinking of my own father, and the other day, a picture I posted on Facebook reminded me of one of the things that my dad absolutely hated.

It was this picture, innocent enough at first glance, that brought all of the memories crashing through my soul.



Innocent, yes? Just me at a local 5k that I ran last Sunday…


Dad was, for the most part, pretty easy going…but there were three things that he absolutely hated, HATED, with a passion.

The first thing he hated was white pantyhose.

Yes.



White pantyhose.

I have NO idea why white pantyhose sent him over the edge, but they did….I absolutely loved wearing lots and lots of colorful outfits (still do, actually!), and I absolutely loved wearing different colors of pantyhose - including white. (Hey - it was the 80's - don't judge.)

Every. Single. Time. that I would don a pair of white pantyhose, Dad would wrinkle his nose in disgust and say, "Only nurses should be wearing those."



So of course I would wear them as much as possible just to drive him crazy. (Because I was a loving daughter like that, you know.)


The second thing he hated was the word, "gross."

I know, crazy, right??!!

And of course, in the late 70's and early 80's, the word "gross" was embedded in our culture and language, and almost every sentence I spoke was punctuated with the word, "gross." As in, "That's SO gross." Or, directed at my little brother,"You're gross, you know that, right?"



Dad would wrinkle that nose again, and say, "That word is absolutely disgusting. Knock it off."

And I would laugh and tease him and get the word in twice by replying, "Oh silly Father, 'gross' is NOT gross!!", because again, I was a loving daughter like that.


And the third thing he hated is shown in that picture above…he hated biceps. On women.

I began weight lifting in high school, and have continued to this day, so yes, of course, I developed biceps over the years. And Dad hated them - HATED them. He would look at my arms, shake his head, and mutter, "Only men should have biceps…NOT women." And I would fiercely disagree with him, saying that it was perfectly fine for women to not only BE strong, but to LOOK strong as well - and I would head off to the gym to develop my biceps even more. Because I was a loving daughter like that. And I wanted to look like Linda Hamilton in "Terminator." Heh.



So yes, that picture I posted of me brought back memories, as I saw those biceps…and knew that Dad would have had a conniption fit.


Everyone has their own idiosyncrasies…I look at some of the things that I hate, and I have to laugh, because in the scope of things, they're rather stupid. Like I hate the texture of fresh fruit in my mouth…gah. I can seriously gag on a piece of melon. Or, how I hate the sound of toenail clippers…I will have a nervous breakdown at the sound - seriously.

So, in the scope of things, white pantyhose, "gross", and biceps may sound silly, but they were what drove Dad over the edge, and I used that knowledge to tease him and drive him just a bit more crazy.

And how I wish I could go back in time now and maybe, just maybe, go easier on him.


Yes, it will be hard on Sunday…but I'll think of my Dad, and I'll think of his idiosyncrasies, and I'll chuckle. And I'll hold those memories tight so that I never, EVER, lose the essence of what was my funny, but lovable, Dad.

Peace.

The Color Run 5k: A Review

On a normal day, if my 15-year old daughter were to rub her psychedelic chalk-covered hands all over my face and neck, leaving me looking like a Salvador Dali painting on acid - I'd pretty much slap her upside the head, and then ground her for a week.


Yeah…that is totally me.

But…when one is running the psychedelic-infused Color Run 5k with said daughter - you just go with the flow, and then try to exact a bit of revenge with your OWN psychedelic chalk-covered hands.

Mwahahahahahahahaha.

All is fair in love and war…or in this case, at the Color Run.


The "Happiest 5k on the Planet", aka "The Color Run", blew into Kansas City yesterday morning…and how could I NOT sign up for a race that promotes "healthiness, happiness and individuality"???!!! Several months ago, when I looked into signing Hubby, my regular running buddy, and I up to run this, the conversation in my house went like this:

Me: "Hey - the Color Run is coming! Wanna' do it with me?"
Him: "Color Run? Never heard of it."
Me: "It's really fun. You run while people throw colored chalk dust on you."
Him: Totally silent at this point, but he had this weird expression on his face that looked like this:



Needless to say, Hubby was NOT on board with doing The Color Run, so I had to find my next victim running parter. It didn't take me long to figure out that anything involving "individualism" is PERFECT for my opinionated, strong-willed Daughter - so here we were…signed up to participate in our very first 5k as a Mother/Daughter Duo.

Of course, when she heard she'd be getting up early on a Saturday morning to run a race with her Mom, you can only IMAGINE the excitement.


Yeah.


Saturday morning dawned cool and cloudy…with a slight northerly breeze in the air. We wanted to leave the house at 6:30 a.m. (for an 8:00 a.m. race start), so I waited until the last possible second to wake up Daughter. She, uh, tends to be…um…a tad bit…grumpy…if woken too soon.




Although Hubby wanted nothing to do with getting messy, he was more than willing to drive us to the race and cheer us on from the sidelines. While he drove us, I spent time going over the race strategy with Daughter, who, I'm SURE, was attentively listening to me behind her dark sunglasses from the back seat. I know that she wouldn't have been using this time to sleep, or anything….

Ahem.

We arrived at Arrowhead Stadium by 7:00 a.m., and HOLY TRAFFIC JAM, BATMAN…you would have thought that the Kansas City Chiefs were playing a Super Bowl game that morning…cars were stretched out for miles, attempting to get into the stadium for parking. It was crazy. I knew this was a popular race, but I was still taken aback by the number of participants….I never heard a final number, but I DO know that my race bib number was six digits. Yowza.


The Race Gods were smiling down on us, as we managed to snag a second-row parking spot, which actually sounds pretty dumb to be all excited about when you're getting ready to RUN for 3 miles, but hey.

This is a "wave" race - meaning they send out so many runners per wave - and I was determined to be in the first wave. Not sure why that was so important, as it's not a timed race or anything - but I wanted Daughter and I to be able to run without 20,000 other runners breathing down our necks…and if we were out first, we could quickly get up ahead and leave the other runners in our dust. (Hee hee…see what I did there? "Dust" - as in "colored dust"!!!)

Fortunately, arriving an hour before the start pretty much guaranteed that we were literally at the starting tape:


Yup - nothing but empty pavement before us…SWEEEEET!!!


We killed time by dancing to the obnoxiously-loud music blaring from the speakers, as well as taking silly selfies:




Before we knew it, it was 8:00 a.m. - we were OFF!


The course basically wound around the parking lot at Arrowhead Stadium, and it didn't take us long to settle into a good, comfortable pace. Within the first quarter of a mile, we were greeted by a Drum Line, and because percussion along race courses is ALWAYS cool, I stopped to take a quick photo:


Race directors take note…more drum, please.



It was about here that I had a bit of a race snafu.

I was wearing a neon orange hat - not so much to protect my hair from the colored dust - but to keep the rain off my sunglasses. There had been a bit of a 'spit' - or mist - that morning, and I hate nothing more than getting rain-soaked glasses. Gah. Well…remember that northerly breeze I mentioned earlier??? Every so often, that "breeze" turned into a major gust of wind (there was a cold front blowing in, apparently), and unfortunately, my hat became a victim. One minute it was there - and the next - it was gone.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!! NOT MY HAT!!!!!!

(I only have about a hundred hats, but still…)


Daughter came to my rescue, and quickly retrieved my hat…she then even volunteered to wear it, tucking her pony tail through it so it wouldn't go sailing off in the distance again.

My hero.

And this will explain why you'll see the orange hat on MY head for some of the photos, and on DAUGHTER's head for others. Your eyes aren't playing tricks on you.


Soon, we were approaching our first color station - ORANGE!!!!

Daughter and I tentatively approached the line of volunteers on either side of us, and then screaming like banshees, we ran through, waving our arms in the air like fools, and laughed and giggled the entire way as we were getting bombarded with oodles and gazoodles of orange-colored cornstarch.

Ahhh…good times.


And I took NO pictures! Gah.

Not to fear, though, because about a half-mile later, we were approaching our second color station, YELLOW!!!




We repeated the same process as before, running through and screaming, laughing and giggling like crazy, through a golden cloudy haze…


And it was here that I realized something had to change. I was reluctant to take my phone out and take too many pictures - ESPECIALLY when we ran through the clouds - as I didn't want to potentially damage it. But…I was missing some good blog material here, darn it!!! Fortunately, it was about this time that Hubby appeared like magic on the sidelines, and he agreed to take over my phone and photography duty. From now on, Daughter and I had our own personal photographer to document our adventure.

He got right to work in his new important role, taking a photo of us as we finished the Yellow station:



And another one:




After this brief break, Daughter and I hit it again, hurrying along until the next station, but not before grabbing some water at the (one) water station along the course. Soon, we were entering Smurf-land, aka BLUE!!!



By now, we'd perfected our strategy. I'd send Daughter a bit ahead, so we wouldn't "block" each other from the dust. And we would turn and spin our way through the dust cloud, so we'd get color both coming and going. We looked like drunken sailors, but it worked, as far as spreading the color to the front AND back of our shirts. We saw other folks start adopting this strategy as well, so we were knew we were on to something.


Before we knew it, we were approaching the last color zone, PINK:



I lost Daughter in this picture…she must have gotten a bit too far ahead.

But that was short-lived, because before we knew it, we were approaching the Finish Line, and she insisted that we hold hands as we ran through it together:






Did you catch that?

I'll repeat it.

She INSISTED THAT WE HOLD HANDS.

Be still, my heart.


After finishing, you get handed a cool medal and some color packets & glitter. We then made our way down to the stage area in the parking lot for the After Party, and here's where the REAL fun is.

See, we were a bit "colored" up - but not too bad.

That was about to change.

After hundreds of runners gathered near the stage, the deejay did a countdown - and then everyone threw their colored dust, from their color packets, up in the air - and when the cloud cleared, we. were. covered.





Of course, Daughter decided to dip into her colored packet before the "official" drop, and decorate my face and neck a little with her pink powder. I looked like a clown.

So, I retaliated with a bit of my yellow powder on HER face.



We had powder EVERYWHERE. On the front of our legs. On the back of our legs. In our ears. In our mouths. And even up my nose, which made blowing my nose very interesting later that day.




Soon, we decided to head home…fortunately, Hubby had spread some old beach towels on the seats in the car, so we didn't totally colorize the upholstery.

When we got home, we spent a few minutes taking some more photos to document our experience:



I'm thinking, that no matter how cool she tries to be, or nonchalant, that she had some fun today. Call it Mother's Intuition…but she definitely had fun.


Finally, we turned the leaf blower on Daughter to blow off some of the dust. Seriously.


Bring it on.


I'm sure our neighbors thought we were crazy, but what else is new??


OUR TIPS FOR A HAPPY & HASSLE-FREE COLOR RUN:

1. Wear sunglasses (to protect your eyes from the dust).
2. Wear old tennis shoes.
3. Everything washes out fine in the laundry - so don't worry about stains.
4. Bring old towels to sit on in the car for the way home.
5. Everything washed out fine as far as our hair goes, too. No issues.
6. Try to get in one of the earlier waves if you can - less crowded!
7. Go with an open mind and good attitude.
8. HAVE FUN!!!!


Oh, one last pic - check out the swag! Besides a t-shirt (which is amazingly soft, by the way), you get a headband, tattoos, and a medal!!!



It's funny, because on the way to the race, I was telling Hubby that this would probably be a "one and done" race for me…but now, looking back, I would do this race again in a heartbeat!

Besides the fun that the Color Run promises, I wouldn't trade the memories I made with my Daughter for ANYTHING.