He sent it to me because I have two goals that, intriguingly, intertwined in this one event: Run 13 in 13 and Eat a Hypnotic Donut.
Helllllllo. Definitely had to do this race.
That’s how The Boy and I ended up at Fair Park on a Saturday morning in the fog. He said I was crazy. Perhaps so.
But there were Hypnotic Donuts.
And that’s where my Failure Confession comes in: My goal was to eat a Hypnotic Donut…a crazy flavored, you shouldn’t have something this random ever but you want to just once, donut.
But because this was a race, they made plain glazed donuts. So I honestly have to say that this just doesn’t count as a Hypnotic Donut eating experience. (Even though the plain glazed was very good.)
But back to the race. Before we started we had a group yoga session. Seriously.
Some of us were stretching to run. Others to eat donuts. Some to do both.
Eventually, gray-day and all, we were off.
There were lots of people running this race. I took this photo to prove that I was closer to the front of the pack than the back. The Boy was even closer to the front than I was…as usual.
There were donut hole stops along the way – five of them. Well, technically three, but you pass two stations twice. I might add, that there appeared to be several people who were more interested in the donut part of the event than the dash.
When I found The Boy at the end – actually he found me, because he’d been done for nearly 10 minutes – we headed inside to fuel up. Yes, we had both abstained from donut deliciousness on the course.
First up: French pressed Oak Cliff Coffee Roasters coffee. Our favorite local roaster.
Then a donut.
A donut and coffee together are even better. Remember to lick the glazed-covered lips. (I could have gotten that for him, by the way!)
Then on to grab a breakfast taco from Rusty Taco. Potato and egg for me. Bacon and egg for The Boy.
Then (Mom and Dad and anyone else who may be offended by this, please avert your eyes at this point….resume reading two photos later) we stopped for a glass of Deep Ellum Brewing Company beer.
The Boy didn’t have two beers. He was holding mine so I could snap this photo: Dallas Blonde for me (natch) and Double Brown Stout for him.
While we all waited (and waited and waited and waited) for race results, we watched the Chubby Bunny contest.
For anyone who ever spent time in youth group, this is the donut version of Fluffy Bunny.
For those of you who aren’t acquainted with this American youth game, here’s the short version. Shove marshmallows (or in this case, donut holes) in your mouth, one at a time, and see how long you can still say “Fluffy Bunny” (or in this case, “Chubby Bunny”).
Some of these crazy people got up to 35 donut holes in their mouth and could still say Chubby Bunny. Now that is crazy business.
Finally awards time. The Boy had told me he felt he’d done well – like perhaps set a PR (Personal Record). Sure enough, he had done well.
He won first place in his age group.
This is what a running, recently Devestating Injury suffering but now Rehabbing A Thumb winner looks like:
Pretty awesome, if you ask me.