I almost won the whole goddamn race, because when the
heavens opened up just as everyone
was headed to the starting line I took shelter under a tree that happened to be
next to the finish line. The downpour lasted almost 15 minutes and I guess
during that time the race people turned on the finisher-detector and imagine the
surprise of the guy who realized a runwalker was at the finish line
already, her chip detected and proudly proclaiming her the first across. I’m
guessing my profile popped up and he quickly realized that this must be an
error, looked around, saw bib 608 attached to a woman who looked unlikely to have been running six-minute miles huddled flat against the truck of a nearby tree,
and darted through the rain to tell me to go away. I mean, he was kind of nice
about it, but I didn’t totally understand what he was saying and when I asked
what I should do, he said firmly, “Leave this area.”
Luckily the rain was easing up so I left the area and headed
to the starting line where I walked the loop around Prospect Park while
listening to the podcast “To Live and Die in LA” and trying—but eventually
failing—to beat a six-year-old kid. I figured I’d just wear him down over the
course of the…course, but he had shocking stamina and I was caught totally
off-guard when his mom suggested he run to the finish line, which he did,
edging me by juuuust a couple of hundred yards and the only reason I didn’t run
him down was a little something I like to call sportsmanship, plus it was too much
of a pleasure to watch him sprint forward, stop to hike up his adorable little
sweatpants, then take off running again. He was also wearing a baseball cap
that was too big for his head and all in all, I was happy to cede the day to
him.
This fundraising 5k was moved, thankfully, from March to May
and as a result the weather was perfectly pleasant (as opposed to one year
where it was 32 degrees and I walked the course in my giant sleeping bag coat).
This race is unique-ish in that it is only run/walked by people who are fundraising
on behalf of a charity, so there were only maybe 800 people there and each
charity had its own check-in table and the entire process was relatively
civilized with the exception, as per usual, of the mimes. I cannot even begin
to fathom who had the bright idea to accessorize this event with mimes, but
there they are, every year, and before I got kicked out from under my tree a
man ran up to join the handful of us sheltering there and told us a mime had
tried to give him an umbrella, but apparently it was a mimed umbrella, so thanks a lot, mimes. Maybe get back in your box
where I assume you will be safe and dry.
The mimes are certainly better than cheerleaders, not just because
of the sexism but also the quiet. However, today I was actually glad the
loudspeakers were blaring classic rock tunes (before 8 am on a Sunday, yikes) as
the gnashing of my teeth wasn’t audible over the Bon Jovi. I was quietly seething
with fury because either the rules changed or who knows I definitely was not paying
attention to details and though my AWESOME team, The Titans of Reading Lots of Books and Getting Kids Excited to Do theSame, had handily taken top-fundraising honors (number ONE out of all 25
teams registered for Behind the Book!), apparently this didn’t mean we got a
big dumb patch again like we did last year and while I wasn’t looking forward
to the struggle of deciding how long an interval should pass before I recycled
said big dumb patch I WAS looking forward to doing a SUCK IT double-bird salute
to the rest of the 58 nice people who signed up to raise money for Behind the
Book and showed up to Prospect Park super early in the morning and stood around
for ages, chatting and eating donuts, then survived the rain, then did the
loop, all on behalf of people not themselves, total strangers even, because it
mattered to them to do so. I had it all planned out: I was going to leap up
onto the stage and unleash my double birds with a silent scream (hat tip to the
mimes!) and then keeping going off the stage to disappear into the…well, it’s
probably for the best that they honored individual top fundraisers only and S.
has my grudging admiration and gratitude for raising over six thousand dollars—well done, sir. COMING
FOR YOU NEXT YEAR. Fortunately, one of my fantabulous teammates had given
me this bad boy and so I just put him on my fanny pack and let him do all the glaring for me.
(Our other teammate was in CA where he ran
TWO 5ks to make up for missing this one, but good news, T.: not only did you raise
a bunch of money (again!) but you DID run this 5k! I gave your bib to a dog!)
Raising money on behalf of a charitable (or other?) cause
doesn’t come naturally to everyone and I definitely struggled with it early on.
I’ve gotten more comfortable, but as someone who apologizes to inanimate objects
and has regularly encountered obstacles and refused to ask for help for an
entirely unreasonable amount of time, even for a stubborn person, it can still
feel awkward to ask people to give to Behind the Book. We’ve had some great
fundraising coaching sessions, though, and I try to keep in mind the research
that shows that people actually feel GOOD when they donate, that it is
rewarding to do something to help others. I also try to remember that people
who volunteer for BtheB almost always come back again and/or write us a check
on the subway home—the programs are that powerful an experience. Still, this
year, someone made a comment about the number of emails I sent to a small group
of people asking for their help. Each time someone donated I removed them from
the next send and the total number of emails any one person got was THREE, but my
first reaction was to assume this person meant my emails were obnoxious and I
was stricken with shame and guilt.
I got past that initial reaction pretty quickly with this
crazy New Age technique called applying rational thought: people ask me for
help all the time and I either give it or I decline to do so but I don’t
generally harbor feelings toward the requester one way or another, so it’s
unlikely this person was going around telling all their friends about this
crazy person who asked them (three times!) if they would be interested in
supporting a charitable cause. Even if that person was, that would be entirely
within their rights to do so and I would take no offense: call me a crazy
person if you’d like! It’s your opinion and it doesn’t change who I am. Plus,
this person made a donation, so clearly they were willing to support the
organization, and then on top of all of that if there was a prize for
overthinking things I would expect to be a strong contender. (Nay, A WINNER!)
As I (over)thought about how to respond to this person to
thank them for the donation, I had one of those forehead-slapping moments: I’m
not ashamed to stand up and tell everyone I know about Behind the Book and the
good work we do, because I believe in it, which is an example of how having
your own feelings and opinions can be cool! But part of the reason I’m such a
staunch supporter is because our programs encourage students to speak with
their own voices, to own their feelings, to exercise that radical act of
putting thought into words and words on a page where they will stand as a
record and a claim: I think this. I feel this. And if someone disagrees or
tells them to be quiet, to shut up, I hope our kids will do what I’m still
learning to: be respectful, be courteous, be true to themselves and their
voices, and not to let fears of what others might say or think keep them silent. All our voices matter. (Except yours, mime.)
PS Before you ask, yes, as soon as I got home I took a nap.
I’d like to think that six-year-old did the same.
PPS Thank you, again, a thousand times over, to all who supported us and the other organizations at the race today: it mattered. :)
PPPS I would be remiss if I didn't mention that donations are open for two more weeks....just saying. ;)
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