An unnatural pastime

It's unnatural for people to go running around the city streets unless they are thieves or victims. It makes people nervous to see someone running. I know that when I see someone running on my street, my instincts tell me to let the dog go after him. Mike Royko.

I'm still not sure why I have taken up the dastardly habit of running. 

Well, maybe I do, but I think it's in vain.

I keep thinking that it will aid in my losing futile Battle of the Bulge.

So Saturday morning, bright and early, we drove to McMinnville for the first annual Run, Run, Ye Saints. That's a Mormon funny, for the uninitiated. 

As a new waddler runner, I was aiming for the 5K. Jeff, who is about to run in his third Hood-to-Coast relay, was geared up for the 10K. Hope, who rode out with us, was ambivalent about the whole thing.

Hope and I were feeling pretty fresh.

Hey, make sure I'm looking skinny in this one!

We are so going to nail this.

Jeff and our friend Bill, who had the distinction of being the oldest runner in the pack.

Bill is an inspiration to us all.

Yep, still feeling pretty fresh!

The only reason I would take up jogging is so that I could hear heavy breathing again. Erma Bombeck.

And then we started running.

It was a nice, flat route, with pretty pink arrows for us to follow.
The last part wound around some neighbourhood streets that abounded with garage sales.
I was sorely tempted, but my resolve remained firm.
I waddled ran every step of the way, except for the water station.
Total time: 37:43.
I know, awesome, right?
I think I'll rest on these laurels for a while, maybe longer if I do.

Wow, I've had a lot of random lyrics roaming through my head lately.

Here is Lindsay, looking svelte after her run.
Lindsay is a photographer and blogger extraordinaire.

And Linds, I think it's a cute pose!

Lindsay helped organize the run, along with Brenda, her Mom.

Who is a mite obsessed with running these days.

And is probably to blame for my even considering the pastime.

I just had to post this photo. This is our friend Kimberly, who looks disgustingly perky for having just run 10K in very good time. 

I feel unreasonably resentful of Kimberly.

The Man.

Finishing with Flair.

Our ward had the best turnout.

Probably from being nagged to death  reminded so often and enthusiastically by Brenda.

On Monday morning I awoke with the lyrics And I will hang my head, hang my head low running on auto-repeat through my head. See, I told you, random lyrics. I couldn't remember where I had heard them. Late in the day, it came to me. My MP3 player, which is my trusty running companion, contains all the tracks of the Decemberists' Crane Wife. Quirky  songs, but I like them.

I don't think jogging is healthy, especially morning jogging. If morning joggers knew how tempting they looked to morning motorists, they would stay home and do sit-ups. Rita Rudner.