Saturday was my first 5K ever. Yes, I understand that this is something that any able-bodied 29-year-old should have already done before. I regularly run five kilometers on my own. But most 5Ks always seemed so ... blah. Shelling out bucks for a cheap t-shirt and the chance to run down a road? Um, I went to college, so I'm stocked up on Men's Large t-shirts. And I also have access to roads. So, sorry 5K. You're 0 for 2. And don't try throwing that "the money goes to charity" angle at me. I'm not easily fooled.
So when a coworker suggested an upcoming 5K, I planned to pass. Until I saw that it was a COLOR Run 5K, advertised as "The Happiest 5K on the Planet!"
From the official Color Run website:
"The Color Run is a one of a kind experience that is less about speed and more about enjoying a color crazy day with your friends and family. The Color Run pretty much has 2 SIMPLE rules. 1. White shirts mandatory at the start line and 2. Color plastered EVERYTHING at the finish! Runner/walkers begin the 5k at the start line like a brand new pristine coloring book, they end looking like they fell into a Willy Wonka… tie dyed… vat of colored goodness. Each kilometer of the event is associated with a designated color. As the runners/walkers hit the Kilometer COLOR RUN Zones, they will be blitzed by our volunteers, sponsors, and staff with COLOR. The color is a special “elf made” recipe of magical color dust that's 100% natural and safe to eat, although we don't recommend it."
You mean, I get to walk around downtown and get splashed with color? I'M IN.
So on an early Saturday morning, a rag-tag group of misfit advisors and emotionally obliged spouses (nicknamed Team YAFABULOUS) gathered Downtown to GET. OUR. COLOR. ON. Since the participant instructions mentioned that runners/walkers would be released in waves, we decided to arrive super early so we could ensure we were in the first group. Our rationale was that the more responsible, mature participants (e.g. people our age) would arrive earlier and the crazier, more spastic participants (e.g. crazy, irresponsible college kids) would roll out of bed and arrive closer toward the end. Plus, we planned to enjoy the morning and walk the 5K. You know, really soak in the colorific nature of the "race." However, there was one exception:
Notice the gentleman in the left of the picture? The one with the Game Face on?
That's Barry.
Barry didn't come here to enjoy the color. He came to kick color's ass.
In his defense, Barry was roped into the 5K via a legally binding marital obligation, since his wife Lindsay was excited to run. He was fine with running a 5K. What he was not fine with was the idea of being doused with colored powdered by dirty hipster college students with no respect for order or authority. (I may have editorialized his reasoning a bit. Regardless, he was staunchly Anti-Color.) So Barry's Number One Goal for The Color Run was to finish the run with the least amount of color on himself. He was going to defy The Color Run from being what its basic nature employs it to be: fun and fancy-free.
(Also, he borrowed some goggles from one of our department's lab supervisors to provide full eye protection. I thought they looked like a little overkill. It turned out that Barry would be the one who laughed last.)
Despite our early start, the race setup was a little disorganized and we found out that we were actually waiting in FRONT of the starting line and had to head to the back. Eventually we weaved our way closer to the front and were set to be released in Wave Two, which wasn't too bad. We got to take in the enthusiastic Color Runners we would be enjoying the morning with: ladies rocking mohawks, gentlemen rocking tutus, and a disturbing amount of children. Seriously. I understand that the website listed the color powder as "100% organic and non-toxic," but still. It's fine dust particles that doesn't seem like the wisest substance to dump into a still-developing creature's respiratory and optical systems. Then again, I'm not a parent. Just an aunt. Hey, maybe it's good to give the kid something to overcome. Builds character. One kid was being held up above the crowd like either a sacrificial offering to the color gods or a reenactment of Simba's presentation in The Lion King. Ever the optimist, I'm hoping for Disney on that choice.
One important little detail: The Color Run was an exercise in restraint. For example, each participant was given an individual packet of color powder and was instructed to hold off on throwing it until the very end of the race, where everyone could be doused in a Super Duper Color Explosion that wound up reminding me of a nuclear mushroom cloud. A 100% natural and organic mushroom cloud.
Well, one of the tweens standing beside us in the starting gate just couldn't hold it in any longer. Fifteen minutes before the race was set to start... BOOM! Pink color bomb. Now, the Color Run website had instructed us to wear sunglasses or some type of protective eye wear. But we figured we didn't need to put those on until, you know, the race actually started. So Mary took some pink dust right in the eyeball and got to spend the rest of the run looking like she had the worst case of conjunctivitis ever recorded in human history.
(I know you can't quite see it in this picture, but trust me. It was a doppelganger to full-on pink eye.)
After seeing the first set of runners off, and listening to multiple prods by the emcee at the starting line to start the "wave" down the street of runners ... it was time.
WE'RE OFF!
After about twenty yards of "pretend running" (you know, where your gate is technically running but your actual pace is the speed of mall walking) the rest of our group waved goodbye to Barry and his wife and we settled into a nice walking pace. It wasn't too long before I spied clouds in the distance ... our first color zone.
BLUE!!!!
Before we get there, we all notice an interesting figure perched on the side of a building. Do you spy it?
Yes, that is a "man" in a red hoodie straining to pull a keg out of the side of a building. You gotta admire his determination.
At the first color zone, we learned how these magical color moments would work: very brave volunteers stood on either side of the zone with buckets / troughs / wheelbarrows filled with colored powder which they would throw / shake / powder-bomb at runners as you went by. How "colorful" you got depended on a) how close you ran to the volunteers, and b) how much repressed anger said volunteers were attempting to purge on this fine morning. Blue Zone Rating: mild residual rage.
After the first color zone, we had a bit of a jaunt before getting to the next stop, so we settled into a nice walking grove in one of the more charmingly quaint neighborhoods downtown. I've lived in this city for ten years and buzzed past all of these streets countless times. That's the one thing about living in a easily drivable city: that ease means you rarely walk many places. Something about walking all of these streets felt really special. I spied so many things I had never noticed before.
Halfway to Zone 2, as I was taking in the adorably antiqued houses of the neighborhood, I spied some festive bunting draped across a balcony on one of the houses. Exactly like the bunting I had seen in pictures a coworker had posted on Facebook. In fact, she looks exactly like that woman eating breakfast right underneath that bunting!
"HEY, JENNIFER! IT'S SUANO D. FROM THE COLLEGE OF ENGINEERING!"
Now I should make note that I have talked with this person numerous times at work and we have established a witting thumbs-upping repertoire on Facebook. So yes, I understand that the fact that I included my full name and place of work in my salutation seems overly formal. But ... she was at least 30 yards away. We were out of the context of the workplace. And I was covered in splotches of pink and blue. I felt the additional identifying information was critical. But yes, it was also awkward.
Made even more awkward when I immediately turned to my fellow teammates and shouted, "HEY GUYS, LOOK! IT'S JENNIFER I FROM STUDENT ADVOCACY!"
In my defense, that prompted rousing cheers from our group AND a random group of runners right behind us. Who wouldn't cheer for advocacy?
I don't know who pissed this guy off, but halfway through the zone a member of the Orange Ninja Foot Clan bounced out of nowhere and pelted a softball-sized dose of powder directly behind my ear. Which is possibly the least attractive color of the entire run. I would have been more than happy with a nice dollop of purple or green on my neck, but orange? It just looks like I ate an entire bag of Cheetos and kept wiping me coated fingers on my neck between handfuls.
By the end of the run we were pretty well covered, but one last color bomb made sure that everyone on the team got doused.
+
=
By the last color zone, we had taken over an hour to walk five kilometers. So, of course it was picture time! I was ruthless in my attempt to get a freeze frame. You know, the picture where everyone jumps in the air and the skilled photographer snaps the shutter at the height of the leap? Yeah, my camera became filled with pictures of our team crouching in preparation to jump or standing expectantly post-jump. Eventually everyone became uber annoyed with my persistence and we parted ways. Luckily, one of our walker's photographically competent husband came by and finally captured our joy mid-air as we headed to the parking lot to leave.
Oh, and I know what you're wondering. Hey, Suano, how did you get home? Didn't you get color powder all over your car? Never fear, kind and emotionally-involved reader. I had it all figured out:
Trash bag hammer pants. Full protection for car seat upholstery AND retro fashion statement. Two birds, say hello to my one little stone.
I'm sure you're also wondering how Barry did. No surprisingly, he and his wife beat our time by at least 20 minutes. He apparently made it through the entire run with hardly any color wounds, although he did have to hurdle a few imbecile morons who were rolling on the ground of the color zones in a pitiful attempt to gather up more color. (No editorializing on that one. Pretty much verbatim.) However, since he didn't read the online FAQ about The Color Run he didn't know about the "color bomb" at the end of the race when runners all shake out color packets. So ....
Barry down.
All in all, a fabulous day walking through clouds of color down the streets of a wonderful city! If The Color Run is coming to your town, I highly recommend you join in! Just don't plan on doing a serious, timed 5K. And do pack your lab goggles.
*****
P.S. Here's a little tip from a seasoned Color Runner: most of the colors are really easy to clean off. EXCEPT Blue. Blue is a color-clinging son-of-a-bitch. Somewhere along the run, unbeknownst to me, an entire wheelbarrow of Blue was chucked down my sleeve. So I got to spend a lovely twenty minutes furiously scrubbing Blue out of my armpit. Oh Blue, why must you hurt so good?
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