It seemed like such a great idea. My husband and I would walk in the 10k run/walk race with our 1 year old daughter strapped to our backs. Six miles of in-depth conversation, laughing, and losing that extra 10 lbs.
I pictured rock solid abs and sun-kissed highlights in my hair by the time I crossed the finish line. I was pumped.
In my delusional head, I thought 6.2 miles would be nothing more than a leisurely stroll. Anything was possible after pushing a human being out of my crotch. How could anything match the physical endeavor of labor and delivery?
To say that we were unprepared is an intense understatement. For the love of God, I wore jeans with Sketcher mules on my feet. I can't recall, but I think my husband wore fucking flip flops.
I glanced around at the start line and we looked like hungover losers compared to the horses at the gate. These runners were serious.
It was too late to turn back. The gun went off and we started walking. Everyone took off like rockets and we were left strolling in mules and flip flips. People were cheering, "You can do it!" My husband said, "You've got to be fucking kidding me."
Mile 2: blisters on our feet.
Mile 3: hoplessness of never finishing.
Mile 4: blood on our backs from the backpack filled with a sleeping child.
Mile 5: screaming at each other at the tops of our lungs.
Mile 6: the "cone cart" driving 2 feet behind us picking up the race cones.
Finish: considering that if we can't walk 6.2 miles together, we may as well sign the fucking divorce papers.
We were screaming at each other trying to consider who was more of the idiot. Was it me for suggesting the "race"? Or the hubbs for agreeing to it? If we were that stupid, how could we be raising a child?
I was even pissed at my daughter. I almost woke her up and said, "Listen you little prick, it's time you get out of that backpack and carry your own weight around here."
But we made it. After about 3 hours of blood, sweat and tears, we crossed the finish line.
No one was there. The FINISH banner was taken down. But we crossed the spray-painted finish line anyway because we fucking deserved it.