Why I am not in shape.
Exhibit A:
My kids'
exercise logs.
Exhibit B:
My exercise log.
It seems that getting off the treadmill mid-run to break up fights, investigate random crashes, investigate suspicious silences, call in barking dogs, let out whining dogs, and extinguish burning meals negatively impacts a person's run times.
Since no one else seems to be signing up to manage the interruptions in my life (and I suspect other moms may be able to relate to this), I have decided to embrace them and incorporate my chaos into a brand new fitness event.
Here it is! Drum-roll! Spotlight!
It's called...The Momma-thon!
Let me explain the concept.
Everyone has heard of a regular old marathon. In fact, it isn't even a big deal anymore. A full fifth of the people I know are in training for some sort of everyday boring old run, and after completing my last 10K, it became obvious from the motley crew of grandmas, librarians, and preschoolers in the race (half of whom beat me), that anyone can strap on a pair of shoes and hit the open road for an hour or two.
But! Here is the question!
Could you do it with with a toddler holding on to your left leg?
How about wearing a baby?
Holding a laundry basket?
Suddenly your hometown running club is sounding like kindergarten nap time, isn't it?
Yes, friends.
This is the race that will ask for more than just the commonplace skill of simply putting one foot in front of the other for 26 miles.
This race will stretch(mark) you farther than you thought you could stretch(mark), cost you more than you have to spend, and ask for more than you have to give...over and over and over again, in a persistent, whiny voice that makes you want to hide in the closet with a pair of ear muffs and a Twix bar.
The Momma-thon will be a monument to multitasking--a true test of a competitor's physical and psychological endurance. And her patience.
Picture this.
The competition actually begins the night before the race, when runners will be handed a package containing either a last minute 5th grade science project, due the next morning, a "Baby, Think It Over" teen training doll that cries every three hours for a bottle and a diaper, or the contact information for an emotional teenager who wants to talk through her relationship issues on your bed until 2:30 in the morning.
Having endured a grueling pre-race evening, runners will arrive at the course at 8A.M. the next day, somewhat breathless and disheveled after having been asked to drop off six things at five places on the way, as well as make lunches for every member of her household following a detailed and randomly changing list of critically important "likes" and "dislikes" for each person.
Entrance fees for the race will be collected on site and will consist of whatever change a competitor was able to find in her couch cushions at home or in the center console of her mini-van...
...unless that is how she was planning to pay for her kids' higher education, in which case a bill for the race will be mailed directly to her children upon college graduation. With interest.
Once the ladies have gathered at the starting line, coffee will be served because... well, the goal is to make the event challenging, not impossible.
Duh.
After 10 minutes and a bathroom break, the runners line up and are given a numbered bib.
Attached to a child.
The runner can carry the child in a sling, carrier, piggy back, or she can simply let the child grab a leg and hold on, and from there it is a mere 26 miles to the finish line!
Lest the race become boring and mundane, the children who are old enough to speak will be instructed to talk about a variety of fascinating topics during the run, such as diggers and dumpers, front end loaders, Disney princesses, road graders, pink unicorns, and Acura NSX street racers.
Some children may choose to sing a simple chorus to the runner. 700 times without taking a breath.
Or maybe ask "why" questions about various unsolvable mysteries in the universe.
Those too young to speak can either emit a steady, low-frequency whine for hours on end, or they can release ear-piercing shrieks at random points along the trail.
At mile 6, 12, and 18, runners will be expected to stop briefly to adjudicate a squabble between youngsters over a broken toy that neither of the children cared about yesterday.
At four points along the course, a phone will ring and the runner nearest will be expected to answer it and sound pleasant, interested, and unhurried, even as she watches the other runners race by, and the child wearing her number-bib asks repeatedly for a drink.
At mile 10 and 20, the Momma-thoner will stop briefly to clean up either a small pile of dog vomit or a stinky diaper. Coffee and donuts will also be available at these stations, although due to the nature of the assigned task, caution is advised.
Cupcakes, cookies, and chocolate will also be available at strategically flagged stations off trail. Moms who see a flag must be the first one to the site to score the snack. Snacks must be eaten quickly and discreetly, out of sight of the other runners, or else be forfeited. Extra points are awarded for the runner who can eat the entire snack without garnering the notice of her bib/child.
At mile 16 and 23, runners will be pulled off the course and asked to either put up a pack-n-play, or else unfold, and re-fold a baby jogger and fit it into a trunk along with twelve sacks of groceries and a baseball equipment bag.
Those unable to do so will be directed to extract a half cup of two-week-old spaghetti from every crevice of a high chair, or pull a wad of chewing gum out of a medium-pile living room carpet.
Other stations include a stop to load a dirty dishwasher, a stop to deliver six, consecutive, patient explanations about how long division works to a tearful third grader, a washer-to-dryer laundry switch-over, a "Quick! Someone is here!" kitchen clean up, and a "Hey Mom, I'm also supposed to bring a dozen cookies" emergency bake-off.
Near the end of the race, two optional stations will be available for both high achievers and gluttons for punishment: Extra points will be awarded at these sites for the mom who can spoon rancid, congealed milk out of a sippy cup without gagging, as well as for the mom who can sniff a baby's fragrant hiney in public "while maintaining an aura of grace, poise, and dignity". And also without gagging.
Mothers who finish the course will get their choice of either a brand new pair of mom jeans, or an enormous tote bag, pre-filled with all the stuff their kids forgot how to carry for themselves that day.
Finally, the festivities are capped off by a lovely meal for the runners and spectators, joyfully cooked at the finish line from scratch by the iron-willed Momma-thoners themselves.
Brilliant! Yes? And best of all, there is no training required since we Mommas do this every day.
Whaddaya say, ladies? Who wants in? 😉
No comments:
Post a Comment