It was, oh so warm, and still brings a smile to my face, as I sit here with the glare of the bright white snow trying desperately to pierce my nostalgia. We started running, and within several feet I realized that even with all my intense training, (twice in the last 6 weeks) the Boys were having a far easier jaunt than I. I told Dave to be my pacer and struggled to stay at least within 5 feet of their dust. I just kept my eyes to the ground and probably for the first time, actually ran.
It was miserable. Each time I glanced up to see how far we had gone, I got so irritated that Dave was running so effortlessly, like a damn gazelle. I would have tripped him, had I been within reach at all. When we had to stop at the light, I glanced down, excited to see how far we had run, and discovered that the Mother Bleeping, Bleepity, Bleeperton, watch had not been tracking the distance. I almost laid down in the middle of the road, hoping for a diesel, or tank, or something heavy to put me out of my misery. Then the light changed and off we went.
At one point during our trek home, we were running in front of the casino, when Dave thought it would be hilarious to run ahead and hide behind a column and jump out at me, ala our own little Hare and Tortoise. I saw the blur of movement though, and warned him as I approached, to try and imagine the rest of his life, celibate. He skittered right back out to the lead, although I don't think it was the threat of celibacy, but more just my general state of mind. It didn't help when we walked back into the hotel room and my parents greeted the guys with, "I thought you were going to go for a run?" and then when I walked in behind them, they just shrank back and said, "Ew."
We decided to spend the rest of the day just chillin' poolside. We walked over to a different pool in our hotel community, and had the whole thing to ourselves for the rest of the day. It was lovely. After licking my wounds in the hot tub, I came over to the pool, and Dave challenged me to a race. Finally redemption. He will probably always be able to out run me. But that competitive sucker will never out swim me. You may not know it to look at me, but I glide through water, like butter down my throat. (Good and fast.)
I accepted the challenge, the rules were set, and my Dad took his position in the middle of the lanes to oversee the contest. The kids were gathered to witness their Mother kick ass, and bets were placed. The cool water lapped at my knees, as I waited for Dave to stop preening and flaunting his freestyle skills. The tension grew as my Dad marked us, set us, and then, the whistle.
Right before I reached the wall on the first length of the pool, I looked back to see Daveskins at least two strokes behind me. I flipped, put my head down and swam for my dignity. I didn't look up again until I touched the wall, and when I did, everyone was laughing. On the last lap, when Dave realized I was kicking his trash, he just stood up and tried to make a run for it. My Dad said, that he'd never seen anyone run in water faster than they could swim. It was bliss.
Dave was full of all sorts of excuses, like he didn't breathe, and he thought we were racing to a different finish line, and yadda, yadda. I would have told him that we were a partnership, and that it wasn't about winning or losing, but what we could accomplish together, but everyone would have known that was a lie. That's why I took the more honest approach and gloated my guts out.
We had such a great time just hanging out at the pool with my brothers and sisters, and Mom and Dad.
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