Waiting for the start of a race would not be complete without large bouncy balls to bonk one on the head when one is not looking.
Ready to run, but willing to walk with his mother, my boy is munching on energy beans donated by Jelly Belly. I like the ones without the vitamins better, and they have just as much sugar in them. I can feel good about eating candy without someone putting things in it that are supposed to be good for me.
We finally start moving, and we take the pretty balls with us.
The
pre-race instructions said to throw extra warm clothes off to the side of the course and they would be picked up, laundered and donated to charity. I guess some folks thought the clothes would stay cleaner if they hung them up instead. Note the festival banner in the middle. It is actually hanging on a light pole.
Before the start, everyone is divided into color groups by estimated finish time. Then the larger color groups (ours was blue) are divided into sub groups to keep things from getting too crazy when we cross the starting line with our timing chips properly attached to our right ankles. Here is the second half of the blue group waiting for us in the first half to get to the starting line so they can go too. With the timing chips, we each get our real time reported to us, not the time elapsed from when the first runner started until we were somewhere near the finish line and handed someone part of our number.
I only recall two things wreaking havoc with the Cat in the Hat. Couldn't one of them been a cat?
One mile on our way, someone is still smiling.
Down we go.
In case you cannot find your way behind the crowd, here is a sign pointing out the course for you, permanently affixed under the stop sign.
Here we are fresh and ready to go up the first hill. This is not the hill of doom.
Someone noticed that I was taking pictures of mile markers and decided to be in most of the rest of them.
For most of the last 7 weeks, we have been attending training clinics here at the community college. Each week we went mile longer than the last. I missed the final 7 mile training, because I was at the big yard sale. The boys went, and one ran the whole thing. The other walked. The little runner did it in 71 minutes and a few seconds. I was not sure about finding him at the end of the race, so he walked with me this year, even though he was perfectly capable of running. I may let him run next year. They do not rank times for children under the age of 13, so we do not know how he compared to the rest of the pack. I know exactly how many people and women my age finished before me. At my age, I do not care.
We followed these things for much of the race.
The ants there in the distance are making a start up Doomsday Hill. It is really not as bad as people make it out to be. It is long, and it comes after 4 miles of plodding along in the sun, but it is not that steep. We moved up it at the same pace as we did all our other miles, about 18 minutes per mile.
The top of the much dreaded Doomsday Hill. We walked up the right side of the road so we could look at the river all the way up.
When one gets to the top of the Doomsday hill, there is a vulture waiting, in case one dies in the attempt. Just beyond this point, we saw an ambulance heading down the course. Maybe the vulture had lunch after all.
Everyone is still standing after 6 miles. In this neighborhood, the folks who stayed home for the day were nicely spraying the crowd with garden hoses. That felt good after 6 miles in the sun.
This gives a clear illustration of why one cannot drive south on Ash Street and then across the Maple Street Bridge. I am not sure where they put the cars during the race, because the usual detour, Monroe Street was full of people, as you will see two frames later.
Some miles are harder than others. At this point we have .46 left of our 12K race.
With a sudden burst of energy, my boy ran around the corner for the final bit to the finish.
Built for comfort rather than speed, I took it at a sedate walk. If I was a little faster, I might have made it to the middle of the picture. I am in the dark shirt and long pants on the left. Do not even try to make this bigger, it is as good as it gets.
These fine folks are so exhausted after the long trek that they forget to look off to the side of the Monroe Street bridge.
This is what they are missing.
Some of us appreciate a fine view after a long walk. It gives one an excuse to stop and rest while getting the camera out. Just after this, a mean man came by and said we were not supposed to be on the sidewalk. I am not sure why. We were not causing any trouble, and we had turned in our timing chips.
After it is all over, it is important to find a way to cool off. Nice of the city to place this fountain so close to the finish of the race. He was a little soggy for the bus ride home, but that is what happens when you play in the water.
Final results were reported in lots of different ways:
Finish Time: 2:14:39
Overall Place: 29,448 out of 42,697
Ran with a pace of 18:02 per mile
The average pace for XX-year-olds was 14:42
Placed 590th among people the same ageTop 25
Placed 11,310th among people from My Home Town, WATop 25
Placed 22,851st among people from the State of WashingtonTop 25
Placed 3rd among people with the same last name
Placed 16,289th among femalesTop 25
Placed 320th out of 427 among XX-year-old femalesTop 25
Most impressive was my place among those with the same last name. I crossed the line before my husband who had taken several rest stops along the way. Personally, I was happy just to finish at all. Somehow, both of my children beat me. I let them, of course.
Pounding tent stakes has not changed over the years, pull it tight and set it at a 45 degree angle.
The nearly finished product:
We also had the opportunity to use an atlatl to throw a dart which looked like a long version of the arrows that my boy shoots in the back yard. 
A tale only a mother could love.
My girl has been doing research about fear and fairy tales and the connections kids make in childhood that they carry with them all their lives. She started building with some cardboard boxes which she taped together to make a display.
Black spray paint gave her a uniform background.
A little house in the woods for Grandmother, or the wicked witch or the 3 bears or someone to live in.
I was allowed to help with the trees and the door and the windows. She did the words and the white paint on the house.
My creative abilities were taxed to the limit, but I found a way to make these trees too. 
We had lots of help from the dog.
This boy is dry. If he was there today, he would not be floating away yet, but he would be wet from spray.
More foundation of the falls. Note the bridge pier to the left of the picture, standing high and dry.
Happy spring.
There are areas around us suffering from all sorts of flood warnings and watches and actual floods. Our local river is up a bit, overflowing on the trail that we walk and ride on. It kind of gives a new meaning to training for a triathlon. 
I can swim and ride at the same time like I did yesterday. On the way out, I went around the puddle, but on the way back, I went through. I was wearing my sandals, so wet feet were not an issue. My daughter followed me through, then complained about her wet shoes. Silly girl, she should know better than to ride through puddles that are 2 feet deep and flowing. My feet were nice and cool after that though. We skipped this trail, since the peninsula it visits seems to be an island at the moment.
Our house is far enough from the river that we are not concerned with flooding here.
