A story Crying to be heard....

When I opened the Internet (http://www.wyattjourney.com/) this morning (April 11, 2007), there was a familiar sight punching me in the arm to share this one. The pictures were of racers running in Juneau. The race in my memory was called the "Governor's Cup Race." As I recall, it began in the street in front of the Capitol Building and ended near the hospital. The two main characters of this tale are the Web Master himself and me, his mother.

Geoffrey must have been about 5 years old when he heard there was going to be a race. He really wanted to run that 5K foot race. (Actually, I think we opted for the shortened 3K version.) However, he was afraid to try it alone. It did not matter at all to him whose body would stick with him so long as it was family. Where his brother or sister would be, I do not recall; they may have even run the race but declared their disdain for being encumbered by "him."

The morning of the race came, and we were there plenty early to collect our tee shirts and find a place in the crowd of runners. Of course there were serious runners -- properly attired, stretching, warming up. As more and more racers joined, Geoffrey and I moved further back. Then the officials stood on the steps of the Capitol and explained the route and rules. At this time, Geoffrey was inching us a little forward, to the back of center.

Ready...aim...fire. We were off. "I always thought the Capitol was at the crest of this hill. This is no time to realize there is quite a climb just from there to the Governor's mansion." About the time I spotted the familiar white columns (about one-half a block from the starting line), I realized I had lost sight of my little boy. "I must force myself to run no matter how it hurts..poor Geoffrey; he must be frantic." About the time the course wound around the neighborhood ABOVE the cemetery, my side began to ache. Never mind that I had been walking the greater majority since rounding the corner by the city library, which was the building just across the street from the Capitol. By this time, I was "running the race" (I do use that term loosely) completely alone.

By now, the main thing was to "Stay the course and hope Geoffrey was not too frightened. " Eventually, I remember seeing the long downhill stretch to the finish line, where a few stragglers from the real race awaited the arrival of us late comers. John walked up to meet me and to encourage me to pick up my feet and run the last little bit. As I recall, my name and age and race time were published in the Juneau Empire followed by three or four other names.

And Geoffrey? Well, he was waiting at the finish line to cheer me on. I see by this morning's photo that he still is talking unsuspecting women into running with him. For those curious if I went out and bought the wardrobe and exercised and got in shape for the next year, the answer is "No." I went back to baking chocolate chip cookies and being roommother, but I never ran another race.

.....and I wore that tee shirt for years, with pride.