“The trouble with jogging is that the ice falls out of your glass.” — Martin Mull

May 5th, 2007

Race Ball 2006.jpgIt’s that time again, folks: May.

And that means the annual Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure is just six sweat-filled weeks away.

The Race for the Cure is really awesome - where else can a bunch of kindred spirits gather in service of boobs? Thousands of psyched-up women + race-day adrenaline = five kilometers of yakitty-yak-yak.

And if you’re a guy, you get to wear pink and still be macho. Need I say more?

Yeah, this 5K doesn’t resemble a race so much as a big, co-ed coffee klatch. All kindsa folks show up, from high school boys who don’t break a sweat to groups of grandmas who walk the whole way hand in hand. And lots and lots of Average Jo’s like me who race for the cure for Desk Job Ass.

Oh, there are still your race addicts who run the 3.2 miles in 10 minutes as a warm up for their afternoon triathalon. Like the two brawny Amazon women who cut in front of Kevin in the t-shirt line last year (he would have called them on it but they scared him).

The last person to walk across the finish line last year was a survivor fresh from chemo. She had tears in her eyes - tears of joy that she was there at all.

I’m running this year in hopes of raising $200, and Dog knows I ain’t too proud to beg…

Visit my race page and let me give you a run for your money!

I’ll be blogging my training, too, so ya’ll come back now, ya hear?

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