The race that wasn't

"I'm not even supposed to be here today." I thought to myself as I plodded along on the treadmill.

It was Saturday morning, and I was in no mood. 3 months ago I had registered for a 5k that was taking place this morning. My friends had all wanted to do a "color run" and though I prefer to run through mud over colored powder I agreed, and was even excited to try out the newest trend to rock the running world. 

Then life happened. My husbands fledgling company took off and he moved to Minnesota for work as I stayed behind tying up loose ends and taking care of the kids until we could find a place with enough room for our family. Then came the fire which pushed the boys and I out of the house sooner than we had planned and left us on our own in a new city, with no childcare (T being away at AT with the National Guard) 170 miles from where I was supposed to be racing at that very moment.

Instead of laughing my way through rainbow colored powder clouds with my girlfriends I was sweating it out on a treadmill, mourning the loss of my $45 entry fee, sandwiched between 2 men who apparently haven't seen a single old spice commercial, much less sampled the products. 

I'm not going to lie, I came pretty close to "Breaking the Dam: Part Deux" but was able to hold off the waterworks. It was the final blow to a pretty crushing week, and I was struggling with my attitude. But in the end, though it wasn't nearly as much fun, I still got up and put in miles. There would be other races and I would be ready for them. 

I take comfort in the fact that there are other runners out there who would be equally as miffed as I am. So let us have a collective "that sucks" sigh followed by a moment of silence for the race that wasn't.

Then let's suck it up, and smile for all the races still to come.