Running at the mouth

2 01 2011

Bravado got the best of me.

On New Year’s Day, Katie and I got up and got out early so she could race in a “Resolution Run.” It was only five kilometers, two loops around a small lake, but it would be her first real run with other people since the Portland Marathon, an important milestone to kick off training for her next challenge.

The morning was clear and cold, very cold. My toes tingled as I walked the path looking for a good photo position, while Katie jogged ahead to warm up.

Resolution runners on their way around the lake.

When the race was over, the grin on Katie’s face was as bright as the winter sun. She was back.

Katie had been struggling recently with her motivation but she’d just run a personal best, more than two minutes faster than her first five km race almost four years ago. What a great way to start the year, she said, and she was ready for more.

Which is when I said, “maybe next year, I’ll run the race with you.”

Then, this self-avowed non-runner proceeded to stick my foot even further into my mouth when I upped the ante further, “maybe I’ll even beat you.”

The gauntlet had been thrown, the glove slapped across the cheek.

“Oh yeah?!” she exclaimed incredulously.

Might as well put something at stake, I suggested; loser cooks dinner for the entire following year.

Seeing as I already do that, I wasn’t really risking too too much, I reasoned. Katie doesn’t cook; while she bakes like there’s no tomorrow, her culinary skills begin and end with eggs.

Which means, if we follow through with this little wager (and given Katie’s legendary capacity to never forget any slight or challenge, I doubt she’ll let me forget it) and I prevail, there will be no more dinner delights like that night’s pizza margharita, made entirely from scratch utilizing my new pizza stone!

Home baked pizza margharita.

Thank goodness Im NOT a runner…