Way back in March, Jason called me at work to tell me about a race called the Color Run. I looked it up, read the description and immediately became rabidly excited. About a race. Where I’d need to run. But this race, you guys. You start out wearing a clean white t-shirt and at every kilometer you get pelted with a different colored powder. So yeah, I was in.
A few hours later, I went back online to read more about the race and saw a new message in bright red that said, “REGISTRATION FOR THE TWIN CITIES COLOR RUN IS NOW CLOSED.”
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooooo. God, I finally get jazzed about running a race and then this happens. I called Jason back to whine and moan, and then immediately signed up for the email notification list in case they opened up some more spots.
A few months later, they did.
Here’s us before the race:
It was so hot. We didn’t bring any water to drink beforehand. Poor planning, selves.
Seriously, I cannot stress to you how hot and humid it was. The air was THICK. And I have asthma. So…this did not end well for me. Think, “Shauna couldn’t breathe or regulate her body temperature and had to walk most of the race and then came two dry heaves away from vomiting in the car on the way home before diverting disaster by blasting air conditioning on the back of her neck for 10 seconds.” True story.
I was dripping sweat before the race even started (mostly because I ran the ½ mile back to our car to grab our camera and then could not cool back down). I felt awful during the race. AWFUL. I ended up walking most of it (and I run 3 miles a couple of times a week). (At least I wasn’t the only one. At one point, we were in a group of maybe 75 people and every single person was walking. That’s how miserable it was.) Jason, of course, would’ve run the whole thing at the same pace without stopping, but he was nice enough to walk with me.
The post-race color toss:
Chalky! Also: Cannot see my hand in front of my face! Also, also: INSTANT ASTHMA ACTIVATOR!
The color got e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e. We sat on garbage bags in the car and ended up tossing all of our clothing (except our shoes). It took 30 minutes of scrubbing our skin raw with a loofah to remove (most of) the color. In some places, the color looked like it was never going to disappear (between my toes, especially).
Three hours later I notified Jason, “Um…I just blew my nose and the Kleenex was purple. So…ah…you might want to keep that in mind.”
But I’d do it again next year. (As long as it’s not in July.)