I'm Famous in Porkopolis!

It was a day just like any other.

After work on Monday, I went for a run—one of my last before the half-marathon this coming weekend. When I returned home, Keith and I were in the kitchen, chatting about our days.

"Guess what came in the mail!" he said. He ran out to the living room and returned with the first mailing about the Flying Pig Marathon for 2008.

We have a lot of good memories associated with the Flying Pig. I've run the 10k and 1/4 of the marathon as a leg of a relay team. Keith has run the half-marathon, and his mom has run everything from a marathon relay leg up to the entire marathon. It's a great race, with lots of support, and part of the course winds through our old neighborhood, just a couple of blocks from our old apartment.

For the next few minutes, we perused the flyer. It's the 10th anniversary race in 2008, so there's even more events and hoopla than usual. There's 4 separate 5k events alone! In 2006 they had over 15,000 participants over the course of the weekend, so I'd imagine they're expecting even more for 2008.

Finally, we open the brochure all the way. It's a large sheet of paper that's been folded several different ways to get it to a smaller mailing size. On the last side, I'm reading more details about some of the events when I'm distracted by a photo from last year.

"Hey, that girl's wearing the same shorts as me!" I think. Then my mind starts to process. "And the same shirt. And her hair is ... wait. She looks an awful lot like me. Am I imagining this, or is that my picture in the brochure?!?"

I toss it to Keith for confirmation. I don't tell him what he's looking for, just to look at the picture. He looks at it a minute and starts laughing.

I know precisely when, during last year's 10k event, that picture was taken. It was within the first mile, and Keith and Karen had come to cheer me on. Unfortunately, they were looking in the exact wrong direction. So, with energy to spare so early in the race, I started jumping up and down and waving my arms to get their attention.

Apparently I got more attention than I bargained for, because the picture is of me looking off to the side, waving my arms like a crazy lady. I never in a million years would have guessed that could land me in the race brochure.

Once I get past the fact that I'm whiter than the purest driven snow and gesticulating like an eejit, I decide it's pretty cool. I'm in the brochure! I guess this means I'm really a runner. Which is good reinforcement, just before my longest race yet. Wish me luck on Sunday morning!