Patriot’s Day 2012

(11 days late … what’s up with that?)  This year was different because we didn’t go over to my friend Katherine’s house for a bar-b-que because 1.)  Brianne ruins everything and 2.) a good friend was running The Marathon and I wanted to scream her name when she ran past me.

Originally we planned on going to DC for spring break but I signed Brianne up for driver’s ed instead.  I wanted her to both enjoy spring break and get driver’s ed over in one week vs. me driving her every Thursday and Friday night to a driver’s ed class for 2 months.  As a special bonus she got to spend her birthday surrounded by her peers listening to a 70 year-old man talk about driving.  It’s like I reached into her brain, found her ideal birthday activity, then paid a lot money to turn it into a reality!  I’m the Best. Mother. Ever.

So, while Brianne enjoyed spending Patriot’s Day in a small, hot room; Lizzy and I hooked up with the Raskell’s on Rt. 135 in Natick.  The Raskells like to show up to activitiesinsanely early and spend the day.  Lizzy and I showed up at 11:30 … long after the wheelchair and elite athletes had run by to watch the pack.

Lizzy and I helped pass out wet paper towels to the runners, then once they ran out sat down in our chairs to yell out runner’s names and the current score of the Red Sox game.  You could usually tell who the Massachusetts’ runners were because once they realized that Don was listening to the game they’d start shouting, “What’s the score?”

I pretended to be a fan (because I’m helpful) would yell out things like, “No score.  Bottom of the third.”  I sometimes like learning new things and I sort of learned a new language – baseball while watching the marathon.  Tiffanie laughed at me for shouting out the score because in 12 years of living here I’ve never even attended a game at the Green Giant oops, Monster (see more sport’s terminology – between my education at the marathon, having the game on in the background and watching Moneyball, I practically have a Masters in Baseball!).

I even saw my friend run.  I got a text when she was at 10k so I started watching for her I got a sweaty hug and ran alongside her for a couple of feet – which is my version of running the marathon.

But I mostly supported the runners by sitting in a chair, eating pizza provided by the Raskells, drinking cold water and by yelling out the runner’s names* because I’m awesome … and supportive.

*Note.  If you run in the Boston Marathon it is easier to read your name if you write it on your shirt rather than on your bent arm, especially if the first few letters are one direction and the letters beneath your elbow are sideways and you’re moving your arm.  But maybe it’s just me.