These Colors Don’t Run (They Walk)

Ever since I saw photos of Amber after her Color Run last year, I knew the “Happiest 5K” was A Thing For Me To Do. I’m famously rubbish at life lists, so I didn’t bother declaring it a formal goal, I just closed my eyes and clicked when I landed on the registration page one afternoon. Closed-eyed clicking goes against my very nature, but/and it’s just exactly what I need to do every now and then.

Also equally against my nature and good for me? Running. This is where I’m especially glad for my half-pint tag-along teammates, who I hoped were obviously burden enough to convince the 9,996 other people at the event that I wasn’t “slow” and “out of shape,” I was “accommodating” my children because I’m “nice” like that.

Lordy but I’m slow and out of shape. All told, I jogged a grand total of about two minutes, made up of tiny spurts that lasted just long enough for me to remember that the sinus malady I’ve suffered valiantly for going on three weeks now makes my teeth hurt when I do anything more strenuous than tap at my phone with both thumbs like a science mouse pushing a lever for kibble. Meanwhile, Wombat took a break atop Simon’s shoulders every now and then, Fox fell asleep in the stroller while we were standing in front of a giant loudspeaker waiting for our wave to start (AND YET YOU REFUSE TO NAP AT HOME, CHILD?), and in the end we finished almost dead last, which meant nothing more than that the official color throwers were being extra generous by the time we passed their way.

I thought it was fun. Wombat thought it was the FUNNEST THING EVER. I’d painted our nails in matching rainbows (note his varied look-at-mah-nails poses), and I didn’t let myself think of the laundry until after we’d crossed the finish line as a messy, happy kaleidoscopic team. Afterward, I waited with the baby while Simon introduced Wombat to his first dance pit, from which they emerged drenched in ROYGBIV and joy, hands pink from powder and high-fiving strangers. Fox was lightly dusted with wonder. I was considering dyeing my hair permanently blue because why the hell not?

Sir? It looks like you’ve got a little something behind your ear.

It was pretty great. I don’t think I can honestly add “Ran a 5K” to my list of did-dos after this, but none of what that means–accomplishment, fitness, hipster cred–is what this was about.

Two final words: Technicolor boogers.