A couple of weekends ago a girlfriend and I went to Seattle for the Color Run.  It was our…fifth?…time doing it.  Given that it starts at 8 am we elected to go up the afternoon before and stay the night.  I mean, really, twist my arm.

A person never knows what kind of weather might greet them at a May run.  Could be sun, could be rain.  Actually, the same could be said for about any other month of the year here in the great Pacific Northwest.  However, that particular weekend we absolutely lucked out.  We drove to Seattle under sunny skies, and the weather was only better for the next day (which, coincidentally, was also Mother’s Day.  We saw quite a few Moms with kids in tow at the Color Run, some children looking more enthusiastic than others.  Some had likely hoped for brunch with Mom or a bbq with Mom and experienced a serious dose of reality when Mom announced she wanted said children to join her at the Color Run).

After picking up our packets at Seattle Center we settled into our room at the Silver Cloud Lake Union.  We had a water view and flung open the French doors to enjoy the fresh air.  There were tons of boats on the lake, and seaplanes took off and landed at regular intervals.  It’s days like those that make tourists proclaim, “Let’s move to Washington!!!”

Shortly thereafter, we headed towards the main cluster of restaurants and shops that make up the area of South Lake Union.  We settled in at Cactus, noting that we were amongst the oldest in the outdoor seating area.  Either the median age of Seattle has decreased or my age has increased.  Or something like that.

After dinner, we wandered down towards the water.  The weather was just too delicious to rush back to our room.  We wandered towards MOHAI (Museum of History and Industry, not to be confused with MOPOP, the museum formally known as EMP…and still referred to by most as EMP) and noted the number of bikinis on display.  It had obviously hit 72 in Seattle.

We walked along the waterfront…winding past restaurants with water views and yachts.  Big yachts.  Many for sale for mere millions.  Okay, there were a few for a quarter million, but why would you buy a dingy like that?

We returned to our room, again flinging the doors open and watched the sun set on the hills across the lake.  If we leaned out and looked to the left we could see the Space Needle, still looking goofy in its renovation wrap, which I hear is to be removed soon.  I really should go up in the Needle sometime.  Though, my failure to visit at this point means I will be unable to compare pre- to post-renovation. Meh…what’s the hurry?  Eventually someone will come to town and want to go up in it…and I will take them and see it for myself.

The next morning we had a light breakfast at the hotel before walking to Seattle Center.  Our choice of hotel is deliberate as it’s just over a mile from there to the starting line.  Parking in the area is atrocious any time, but has been made much (much) worse with the mass (gobs) amount of construction in the area.  I read not too long ago that Seattle has the highest number of construction cranes in it out of any city in the US.  A dubious honor at best.  But, let’s not get into that discussion.  Because then we’d have to talk about the traffic and the homeless problem and things could get dicey real quick.

We used to do quite a few fun runs together on an annual basis, this girlfriend and I.  And while I still enjoy the occasional one, my level of interest has definitely waned.  I think a lot of that has to do with the fact that I finally admitted to myself that in my universe it is impossible to precede the word “run” with the word “fun”.  The two simply do not go together.

Back in my days of searching for the perfect imperfect body (which dates back only a couple of years), I was more than willing to fun run.  It was exercise!  It was competition!  I could couple it with my other exercises and my food restrictions and come out on top!!  Except I didn’t.  And was quite miserable.  Which is why I am now heavier (and not particularly happy about how my body looks), but at more peace.  And I refuse to do “fun” runs unless I truly want to.  It’s rather nice to not obsess about food, to not have a consistently growly tummy, to allow myself to eat all foods and not just “safe” foods.  It’s also nice to engage in exercise that I like, rather than exercise that I think I should do to “earn” the food I was eating or control the bulges.  Though I do miss that slimmer body.  Oh, back fat, how I hate thee.  It is a process, peeps.  Those damn Facebook “memories” don’t help.

Thus, it didn’t take a whole lot for me to suggest to my friend that we walk rather than run.  She agreed.  The race started.  We started jogging.  Well, that feels familiar.  Say you’re going to walk, feel compelled to jog.  So, I stopped.  She stopped.  And we enjoyed an absolutely gorgeous morning walking the streets of downtown Seattle with a whole bunch of other walkers (turns out there were more walking than running).

We got to the end of the race, collected our medals (yay, participation awards!) and headed to the color pit.  The color pit is the area in front of the large stage in which people gather to collect packets of powdered color flung from the stage by an enthusiastic announcer/dj.  Every 15-20 minutes they announce a color toss and everyone opens their packets and flings them in the air, making a color cloud.

Once upon a time we would participate in 3 or 4 color tosses before throwing in the towel.  Perhaps we’re just getting older (or wiser), but one round of choking powder was sufficient for us (which the cleaning ladies at the hotel probably appreciate because we no longer leave colored rings in the shower).  We moseyed to higher ground so I could photograph another toss, then headed back to the room to clean up.  Brunch on a sunny patio in Seattle was calling our names.

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