WATER!

Okay, so my physical ailments in life are of course no where near that of Helen Keller, but I can sympathize with her in some ways, and I similarly hold a special place in my heart for WATER. This story came about while I was running the RED ROCK RELAY, and I am only sorry that I have not gotten it up on my blog sooner.

As referenced in my Imagine Dragons post, I am sort of stubborn about my use and wear of contacts. I have them....oh I have them. But as I do not generally spend 30 minutes on my entire appearance, it is difficult for me to justify using 30 minutes to get that stupid clear piece of clearness on my eye, and because I hate it so much, I have not gotten any faster, more efficient or PROFICIENT at using contacts...so generally, I don't. This on the whole does not affect me, but...

I would like you to imagine. You are on your third of three legs in a running race. You have not eaten in the last ten hours, to this point, you have run about 11 miles in those other two legs, and now you are on your final 5 mile leg. It just so happens that you are running late in the morning in ST. GEORGE , UT. There is no cloud cover. The map which you perused scrupulously before beginning your run, failed to note the massive uphill at the start of your run, in the sun, and hotness. Additionally, as you waited at the exchange point to begin this last leg, the runner immediately before your teammate came through the checkpoint, turned, and puked all over. So these are the conditions at the start....oh yeah, and you definitely DON'T HAVE CONTACTS IN, so you can't see perfectly.

Your support vehicle is a WHITE MINI VAN, no special markings, no team decorations, just the snowy white color of a 2010 Dodge Minivan. You may not have figured out great hand signals for things, assuring your van that if you had a need, you would definitely communicate it to them.

So here you are, you are running, your legs are tired, the sun is hot, you are sweating...and then it hits, THIRST. SUCH THIRST...you look out, and then you realize that the runner is ME. That's right, I was tricksie and put all of that in the second person, but we are now back to first person....so anyway, here I am, I crest the hill, start coming downhill....and there it is. THE WHITE VAN. I see my team mate standing out by the driver's side door, talking. I think, why has she not asked what I need, but realizing that she is probably just so engaged in conversation to notice me, I just start yelling WATER, WATER, WATER. This is my subtle signal. My friend yells out to me, "Do you need something?" Thinking to myself that my friend is not to bright, I say again, "YEAH, WATER!!!!!!" There is a hustle to find a bottle, then my friend crosses the road to be on the side of the street where I am running. As she runs toward me, I think to myself, "My friend has changed clothing..." And then of course, the next natural thought, "She is NOT my friend."

So, some dear sweet support vehicle of another team supplied my water. The best part is their runner must have had a similar pace to mine, but been just behind me, because you better believe that I saw them 8-10 more times on my route, and every time I passed, she was sure to ask if I needed anything....never did I explain what I had thought, just took it in stride...small, weak, sad, slow, tired strides.