A Rhino Run Gone Wrong

Oh look at us...what happy, unsuspecting suckers we are. Last weekend Grant and I decided to do a 5K at the Dallas Zoo, Run for Rhinos. We got up at the lovely hour of 5am and dressed Barrett up in his Halloween costume (he's a very scary dragon, in case you weren't sure). The plan was for Grant to run the race and for me to walk Bear in his stroller and enjoy the scenery.

Mistake #1: There was a 1k that I could've done instead. I thought that distance sounded too short.

Mistake #2: We didn't find out ahead of time that the run didn't actually go through the zoo. As we crossed the starting line in the zoo's parking lot, I expected the race to head into the zoo. Instead we got a very real look at some of the more rough streets of Dallas AROUND the zoo. I started to feel worried when we passed a junkyard with an actual junkyard-dog barking at us.

Mistake #3: The dragon costume may have been a little on the hot side for October in Texas. The morning started off cool but heated up quickly, as did my son. I wasn't a mile in when I could hear whimpering coming from the jogging stroller and I had to start shedding articles of clothing.

Mistake #4: I should've turned around and headed back to the zoo. Grant passed me during the race, as he'd been running and my pace had slowed considerably due to my increasingly cranky child. Why didn't I just follow him back in? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Mistake #5: I only packed 4 pacifiers. Apparently that wasn't enough for Barrett to spit into the street.

This lead to Mistake #6: When I was out of pacifiers, I picked Barrett up and carried him to comfort him a little bit. Once he was out of the stroller, my stubborn baby decided he was NOT getting back in. As a result, I fell to the back of the back and was stuck carrying a 15-pound (crying) baby and pushing a stroller. I felt very alone, a little nervous, and a lot sweaty. We were only 1.5 miles into the 3.1 miles I needed to complete. And we were getting farther away from the zoo.

Mistake #7: I passed several policemen who were monitoring the race. I should've just asked them for help, but I figured they wouldn't drive me to the finish line without a carseat for Barrett.

Finally at less than a mile left in the race, my husband, the hero, came back to rescue me. By this point, I was crying right along with Barrett. Grant carried the wailing boy and I pushed the stroller with one hand and wiped miserable tears away with the other. Barrett became so hysterical that we actually sat in someone's front lawn to feed him while keeping our eyes on a roaming neighborhood dog. (Again, not the best part of town.) After feeding him and starting out again, the pickup truck that picks up the cones along the race route offered Barrett and I a ride. I stubbornly declined...for 30 seconds...until I couldn't take Barrett's tears any longer. We hopped in the truck and Bear quieted down immediately. He was beyond happy to look out the window and grin at passerbys. Stinker. Grant met us at the finish line where race volunteers were waiting to cheer on the final straggler at a finishing time of 1 hour, 9 minutes. Not the prouded moment of my life.

Grant and I decided that the next race will be done together. No separating the pack! But I'm doubtful that the next race will come anytime soon. In the meantime, enjoy laughing at our clueless grins and just imagine what came after these happy pictures. New parents can be such idiots.