Daily Archive for June 14th, 2007

My Buddy Bill

Somehow I missed the little detail that each NODM finisher would get a buddy at the finish. Imagine my dismay when a bearded man - carrying a Vitamin Water and a finisher’s medal came to my side and began asking me questions. Just me. My friend Katie was off with some lady. She was holding Vitamin Water and a medal too…
I remember…

  • feeling fuzzy headed, and the tiniest bit dizzy
  • a bearded man holding hydration and proof I just kicked my own butt
  • feeling like I kept reaching for that Vitamin Water, but it was always just. out. of. reach.
  • feeling as if I couldn’t break the visual hold that shiny medal had either… Swish, swipe, swish, swipe, but to no avail…. Grasping at straws comes to mind… I wish I knew what my buddy was thinking.

Turns out my buddy, who I later learned was named Bill, was making sure I was OK. He asked me questions… “What’s your name?” “Did you enjoy your run?” “Where are you from?” At the time, I was so disoriented, I couldn’t figure out why it was so hard to get that water from him. No wonder he kept asking questions, it must have appeared that my body began using my brain cells for fuel.

As the dizziness wore off, my mind began to make logical conclusions. I asked Bill, “Are you making sure I’m OK?!” He said something like, “I’m just gonna walk you over here so they can get your timing chip and then we’ll get you your water…” I said, “OOOH! I just pushed it hard that last .2 miles, so I’m really OK… really!” I wonder what his side of the story sounds like. I bet some of those buddies have good stories to tell!

Bill and I walked shoulder to shoulder - he had one arm around my shoulder… his other arm had the hand that held the water… I threw my foot up on the crate as the timing-chip-remover-person zipped that Velcro anklet away. It was nice not to have to bend over to do THAT! Bill continued with me, and let me chat senselessly as he loosened the water cap and awarded me my medal.

Well how about that! A designated finish buddy… and everyone got one! Talk about feeling important. I thought that was so cool. What great volunteers - finish buddies, cheer-ers, aid station sponsors… all of them out in the rain. Good people. Good People. Bill said his wife was at the last aid station before the finish. I remember that one. I passed up the water, but I heard their cheering probably a full mile before I got there. And since everything is all about me, certainly those cheers were just for me! Right? :)

So, Bill (I sure hope I remember your name right… my head was still fuzzy when I asked you your name) thanks for being there, and thank your wife for me too!

At least she’s resourceful…

Olivia is grounded from scissors for a week. You see, she’s 5 - not 3 or 2 - she’s 5. She should be WELL past the “cut one’s own hair stage”. She broke ground on that phase a couple of years ago and tended the land for quite some time. However, she grew out of it… RIGHT???

Nay. She cut her hair the other day. Thankfully, it wasn’t 2 weeks before a wedding she was a flower girl in, nor was it cut by a friend she gave the scissors to, nor was it a lot of hair. In fact, I probably would not have noticed if her Daddy didn’t tell me.

Her consequence - no scissors for a week and after that she must ask permission to use scissors EVERY time until Halloween. I was mad when I found out, so that last part of the consequence is now my consequence too.

Well, my little darling loves making things. Loves. Luh-huvs. What might a 5 year old girl who has no idea how to exist without making a “project” do without scissors? I’ll tell you… she’ll get foamy paper and a butter knife - and “cut” shapes. I guess she figured out a butter knife won’t cut paper, so she found something that would.

She’s resourceful - I’ll give her that; and “technically” she obeyed the consequence too. Y’all see what I’m up against? I don’t even think I can TRY to think like Olivia does… *holding my nose with one hand and waving the other above my head as I demonstrate someone drowning in a sea of “Oh-My-Heckness“*