I’m a bit late to the Christmas party with this post, but oh well …
There are some looks I can pull off, but “Santa” isn’t one of them. I came to this conclusion last year at the inaugural Santa Sightings run in New Bedford, MA. In a sea of 1,200 Clauses, I may well have been the most dodgy. My jacket didn’t fit, my pants were too short, and my beard was an epic fail. This is what I wrote back then: “I looked more like a dumpy, slightly shady elf than a spreader of joy.” Yep.
Nonetheless, we decided to revisit Santapalooza in 2012, because we really, really wanted two more awesomely bad red felt suits to add to our collection. So handy for parties …
Spot the Santa.
I guess not. We ran it again because it’s amusing to see a downtown overrun (literally) by many identically dressed but radically different-sized Santas. And it’s nice to participate in a race in which the majority of people are there purely for the fun of it. Also, it’s an untimed event, meaning Hubby and I can run together without it seriously messing with his average. We very rarely get to run together.
Five minutes into this 5K, however, I think he was rueing the day the race organizers decided to forego timing chips. Sure we got to run as a duo, but alongside him was the hottest (not the good kind), sweatiest, most complainy Santa ever …
When I showed up to the Jolly Jaunt 5K at the Boston Common in 2011, I stood out like a sore thumb because I was decked out in a pink beanie in a sea of red and green. I didn’t really learn my lesson in 2012. The pink beanie is long gone (I can’t seem to find it. Sniff), but I arrived in my usual slightly absurd winter running outfit with nary a festive hue on me. Oops. Sore thumb alert.
Red and green was nowhere to be seen on my person (trust me).
More troublingly, I also showed up incredibly late, thanks to some uncharacteristic misreading of the MBTA Trip Planner. If Hubby hadn’t been away Guarding, it’s unlikely this lateness would have occurred. Firstly, we would have been driving rather than public transiting, and secondly, we would have been there 90 minutes before—because Hubby refuses to turn up to a run any later than that. I mock him for it mercilessly (we spend large chunks of time waiting/napping in the car having woken up at 5.30am), but we never, ever have to line up.
I recognized the prudence in his approach when I was standing in a 30-deep line of people to get my bib 20 minutes before the start of the run while crazed volunteers ran around trying to locate bibs and T-shirts. It’s probably a commonplace fiasco at a large event such as this; I’ve just never experienced it. (Because I picked up my bib in a previous geologic age.)
I was going to say that the reason I have been so silent for the past week or so is that I have been trapped under a jolly fat man in a red suit, but then I realized how inappropriate that sounded … Instead, I’ll just say that I, like many others, have been firmly in the clutches of work and study, leaving no time for fun things like blogging. And eating.
I still have three runs to write about to tie this whole 52 Weeks, 52 Runs business up neatly with a bow, but before I do that, I wanted to wish you all a marvelous holiday season. Thanks for all the wonderful support in 2012. I can’t wait to see where 2013 takes everyone. (If you want a sneak peek of my plans, they’re on the right of this blog. Who wants to join me?)
Hubby and I at the Santa Sightings in New Bedford.