I often lament the fact that we're not more spontaneous, but I also complain if we don't have any plans... The result this past weekend was that I spent half of Saturday trying to prod us into action (and going to the Farmers' Market and baking cherry turnovers [see previous post]), but finally mobilized the troops for a "spontaneous" adventure...at glacial speed.
I'd been thinking about doing the Flamingo Four-Miler, a quaint little race in Tremont, on the "quiet side" of Mt. Desert Island, but hadn't managed to plan far enough in advance to get any girl friends to go with me. The run is part of Southwest Harbor's annual Flamingo Festival. "Wearing pink is encouraged" kind of turned Alan off to the idea from the start so it seemed like a good adventure for the gals. With no one else able to go along, though, I finally convinced Alan that we should all go. He and the kids could watch me run and then we'd have a Family Adventure at Echo Lake, and Wonder Land. We'd take swim suits and trail snacks and make a day of it. And then, since the race started so early, I convinced us that we should pack it all up on Saturday ["like, NOW" was how I pitched it to Alan] and descend upon Mum and Dad at the cottage in Hancock to spend the night before zipping over to the Island in the early am.
It all actually worked out pretty much according to plan....well...except for the weather.
So we skipped the lake.
And the hike.
Also, we didn't get to Hancock until 9:30pm and the got up at 5am so we were all zombies.
Oh, and I got a migraine on the way home and had terrible gastro issues that night.
But otherwise it was exactly how I planned it. Sort of.
The Flamingo
Having broached the subject at 4pm the previous day, I convinced Mum to enter the Flamingo as a walker so here we are ready for her first road race ever:
In the parking lot, I met Randi from Iowa who has been running one road race every month for a year. Way to go, Randi! She warned me that she was slow and would probably walk some of it, and I said "I hear you" but then I sort of lost track of her before it came time to board the bus. Right before we got to the start (at the Seawall picnic area) I realized I was missing the rubber part of one of my ear buds so I spent a few minutes trying to find it on the bus, which was hopeless, so I called Alan and moaned about it and he said I should just put one headphone in and tuck the other one in my shirt. So, I started toward the very back of the pack, fiddling with my tunes and not feeling very inspired by Big Bad Voodoo Daddy. Finally, I just ditched it and listened to the surf until we got a little bit inland. I commented on it to fellow University employee, Carey, who had caught up to me quickly and next thing I knew, we had chatted our way through the first mile. This was remarkable because I've never run socially, so holding a conversation while running is not something I "do". Then again, have you ever known me to NOT talk?!? Yeah, I didn't think so.
So, there we were chatting and running along and Carrey says "just so you know, I'm planning to do about 11:30 [meaning her pace per mile, for the non-runners out there], so feel free to take off if you need to." I told her I'd be lucky to keep up, 'cause I was looking at more like 12-something, but so far, I was feeling pretty comfortable. We caught up to Randi before the first mile marker (an appropriately labeled pink flamingo) and I introduced my new friends to each other. The three of us stayed together until the 2-mile flamingo and halfway point water stop (a pleasant fellow with paper cups and some jugs of water.). After that, Carey pulled ahead and maybe I could have kept up...but I stuck with Randi and it was really fun.
The weather during the race was great: overcast and misting most of the way. We had great conversations and marvelled at how well we were doing on the pleasantly rolling course, and how nice the mist felt and how foggy our glasses were. Sometime after the 3-mile flamingo, a guy on a bike who was clearly the sweeper asked us--very politely--if we had happened to notice anyone behind us. We laughed and admitted to being the tail end. I asked if there was a flamingo for last place, and if so, were they prepared to give out two? because we were it and we were sticking together. Randi seemed a little dubious. Maybe she thought I was going to dust her. I was working hard, but also feeling good, and my rough calculations (I forgot to hit my timer right at the start) told me I was keeping a good pace. And the most amazing part? We didn't walk at all. And did I mention, I carried on a conversation almost the whole way? Seriously, I had no idea I could do that.
Could I have kicked it a little at the end? Yeah, but why would I, when I'd made this wonderful new friend and was already going to have a PR for the distance? We arrived at the Tremont Community Center and Alan and Nana and Gumpy and the kids were all there waving to us (and telling me about a toad they'd found), and then we realized that we still had to go
into the parking lot to get to the finish, so Randi seemed to lose a little steam, but I just kept chatting inanely which I think maybe helped and we got there together and that was way cooler than busting a gut to be rude and aspire to the glory of second-to-last.
In the end, our time was 46:07, a pace of 11:32. Woo hoo! Carey's pace was 11:04--way to go, girl! Randi won second place for her age group (gotta love small town races) AND won a door prize of an enlarged photo of a flamingo. I was so happy for her because she really wanted a memento of her Maine race.
Here's my "after" picture, but would someone explain to me how I didn't get a single picture of a plastic flamingo?!?
Post-Flamingo
Sometime during the award ceremony it started to pour. No, wait, I mean
POUR.
So there we were, done with the race, but not really wanting to swim or tromp through the woods. And even though it was only 10am I was thinking about lunch and the kids were starting to get antsy. So we consulted our Acadia guide book and realized that Bass Harbor light was just down the road and thought maybe there'd be a museum or a nice dry tour so we caravaned to the parking lot, donned our rain gear and walked to the tiny lighthouse that is well-hidden from the land and perched on the rocky shore. And inhabited by a Coast Guard family who thanks you for protecting their privacy by not walking on the lawn, much less touring their home. So we looked out at the choppy grey water and read about the islands we couldn't see and went back to the cars to think about our next move.
We opted to go into Southwest Harbor and choose one of several possible lunch spots. We ended up at the Little Notch Bakery, which was worth it all just for the blanket of fresh-baked-bread-smelling-warmth waiting in the doorway to enfold us and draw us inside. After much contemplation, foods were ordered and seats were procured and wet raincoats were doffed and lunch was had. We bought two giant loaves of bread to take home as well. Here's a shot of their window.
After that, we poked around the town a little and indulged ourselves at a book sale under a tent. Then we parted company with the Gumps and headed into Ellsworth to hit the discount stores, acquire the aforementioned migraine, and lose patience with the kids. We eventually got home where we all collapsed into little heaps.
Oh, and just because the kids will want to see him here....Mr. Toad:
