Firefly Run, 2013 Edition

Firefly Run, Plano, TX - March 23, 2013

#16. It's crazy to think that I had already completed 15 races, 12 of which were all in 2012. I was ready to start 2013 off right and decided that the Firefly Run was the perfect race for my first of the year. This particular race is my favorite. The course is totally flat, it's a night race (which I LOVE) and the glow-in-the dark atmosphere makes me happy. My friend Priscilla and her boyfriend Sid decided to run it with me. I did it with my niece last year, but she's now in the Navy so I was bummed that she couldn't be there. We had a blast last year.

I had pre-race jitters like crazy before this race. I always have some anxiety before a race but usually I don't have much time to dwell on it since they're typically morning races. With this race, I had an entire 12 hours to worry about all of the crazy things that I worry about before a race. Was I ready? Had I trained enough? It had been 3 months since my last 5k so I was nervous. But I had been doing my 10k training since January so I was about as prepared as I was going to be. Shorts or pants? It was 55* but I wanted to wear glow-in-the-dark gear on my legs, so I went with shorts. What should I eat during the day? And more importantly, what had I eaten the day before that I might need to "expel"? Think I'm gross all you want (do you really expect anything less from me?) but this matters to runners, trust me. The LAST thing you want to happen to you during a race of 7,000 participants is to have crippling stomach pains and a blowout mid-race because you chose to eat tacos and beer the night before. And lastly, my most important concern (yes, even more important than filling my pants during mile 2) was that there would be a really good looking guy at the finish line this time. I recently started seeing someone and he planned to be at the race. As I've mentioned in previous blog posts, I'm not even remotely cute when I finish running. I'm sweaty, red, panting and look a little like I might stroke out. I haven't been with Hottie long enough to subject him to that image. My post-race look is a borderline deal breaker. So how was I going to cross the finish line still looking semi-cute, without my shorts lodged in my uterus? I finally had to accept that the only thing I had any control over was the shorts. I couldn't control my red face or sweaty boobs or my disheveled hair, but I could pre-plan the dislodging of the shorts prior to making the last turn before the finish line.

There were SO MANY people at this race. Thousands. There were 7,000 last year and I think there may have been more this year. Last year I had been worried about dodging so many people but had done pretty well. This year was even more nerve-wracking because of the increased number of little kids and baby strollers. Not to mention it would be DARK and the ground was wet from the earlier rain storm. I pushed my way towards the front and hoped that the parents with small children had been smart enough to stay towards the back. I knew that the combination of thousands of people, cold weather and crazy North TX winds would make this a semi-unpleasant race, so my playlist for that night consisted mainly of hard rock and heavy metal to get me through the tough moments. My goal was to beat last year's time of 36:08.

The first mile was spent dodging pint-sized runners who didn't know to stay to the right. When I'd find an open space, I'd sprint in order to make up for time I had lost while trying to get around people. Even after all these races, I have yet to learn to pace myself. I finished the first mile in 10:30 and the 2nd by 22:45. That gave me over 13 min to finish the last 1.1 mile. Problem was, the wind was killing my lungs and the blinking light bracelet I had strapped around my calf was digging into my muscle every time I flexed. I could've ripped it off but I didn't want to get trampled if I slowed down. So I sucked it up and kept going.

Hottie was supposed to text me when he arrived but my phone hadn't buzzed during the race. So I assumed he hadn't found a place to park and wasn't going to be at the finish line. But I wasn't about to risk the surprise of running towards him with my shorts several inches higher than they needed to be. So I slowed down slightly before the last turn and pulled them back down over my butt cheeks where they belonged.

As I've mentioned before, I have a rule against walking across the finish line. I always reserve enough energy at the very end to run across, even if I'm all out of steam. But at the end of this race, I completely misjudged the distance to the finish line and started running again much too soon. As a result of this misjudgment, I had just set myself up to finish the race in the most unattractive condition possible. Not only had I removed my shorts from my throat an entire 50 yards too soon, but I also had left way too much time at the end for my lungs to handle. It had been a cold, windy run so they had had it. But since I couldn't break my finish line rule, I had to deal with it and keep going and hope that I didn't vomit, pass out or look too pathetic when I crossed the finish line. By the time I reached the end, my shorts were back up so far that I could feel the cold wind in places that shouldn't have been able to feel the wind. My ears were ringing, partly from the wind and partly from the Soilwork song blaring from my earbuds. My lungs were on fire, my left calf was in pain and I'm pretty sure I had an ugly grimace on my face from the extra effort. I crossed the finish line in 35:26, beating last year's goal and making this my 2nd fastest 5k.

Lucky for me (and probably for his eyes), Hottie hadn't made it to the finish line due to the parking issue. He didn't have to witness the wheezing or the I'm-going-to-puke face or watch me walk around disoriented, looking for water. I finally found water but was too shaky and tired to open the bottle, so I asked two guys standing near me to open it for me. They looked at me like I was an alien for a few seconds until one of them asked me if I was ok. I said yes, that I was just tired and couldn't open my water. They continued to stare at me skeptically (come on guys, did you actually think I was pretending to look like I was on the verge of having a stroke just so I could hit on you and use my water as a pick-up line? Just open my fricken water already!) until finally one of them opened my bottle and handed it back to me. Semi-hydrated and now able to breathe, I called Hottie and met him for post-race beers. Unfortunately, beer was my only celebratory food/drink so I was crazy dehydrated the next day. I didn't eat my normal pig-out post-race meal or even drink much water for that matter. Just some Blue Moon while watching Comedy Central with a good lookin' dude who had unknowingly avoided seeing me at my ugliest a few hours earlier.

Guide to Happy Dating

Isaac: "Mommy, I was really mad at Kaley today." 
Me: "Why?  What did she do?"
Isaac: "I said hi to her and she told me not to talk to her because I was a boy.  That's mean.  So I don't want any girls at my birthday party this year."

It's starting already.  1st grade.  I didn't have the heart to tell him that this was only the beginning of the two decades of rejection he is likely to experience at the hands of women.  But while I felt sad for his sensitive heart that is sure to be broken several times throughout his life, I couldn't help but to feel grateful that I have a son instead of a daughter.  Maybe I'm just biased (since I'm a girl and all), but I think the dating world is way more brutal for women than it is for men.  Maybe it's because we think with our hearts. Or because we are hard-wired to over-analyze everything that is said or done, especially where relationships are concerned.  Either way, dating sucks for women.

Because it sucks so much, I took an almost 2-year hiatus to just be alone.  2 years of not worrying about whether someone is into me or just looking for a good time or a time-filler for a weekend night.  2 years of not stressing over what to wear on a date or shaving my legs every Saturday night or paying a babysitter $25 to go on a mediocre date with someone who probably wouldn't call me the next day anyway.  2 years of anti-sappy-romance and closing up my heart and mind to the charming ways of the opposite sex.  It was 2 years of single bliss.  Then....late last year, my sister assisted in shattering that image of a happy, solitary, man-less life.  I'm almost ashamed to admit how she did this, but long story short, she made me watch Twilight.  I had avoided those stupid vampire movies for 4 years and never had any intention of wasting my time watching the horrible acting skills and ridiculous story line.  But with much prodding, over the course of 2 days, I watched all 5 movies in the series.  As much as I still feel that the concept is pretty fricken stupid, I couldn't deny that it was a beautiful love story.  I could also no longer deny that I was lonely and missed feeling excited about someone.  So I recently decided to re-enter the cruel dating world with the hopes that my experiences of the past would help me to sniff out the bad ones before they once again turned me into a bitter old cat lady.

As naive and forgiving as I tend to be at times, I'd like to think that I'm pretty good at identifying red flags in someone and assigning them to a dating category. In the past 4 years that I've been in TX, I've gone out with 11 different men (some being just one date and others having turned into a dating relationship), and I've been (un)lucky enough to have experienced many different "types".  So allow me to educate you on these categories and red flags.

1. The Hoover: This isn't as inappropriate as it sounds and he is quite common.  The Hoover is someone who doesn't like you enough to actively pursue you but will suck you back in the second that he senses that you're catching on to this and start backing off.  I've dated several Hoovers.  And given my natural instinct to assume the best in someone, the Hoover Maneuver often works.

2. The Game Player: This guy is an expert player in "the dating game".  The one who follows the dating rules and often makes up his own.  Like the 72-hour rule - don't call her for 72 hours after a date. What?!  So many people fall for this and it's straight up BS.  If you like her, call her.  If you don't, say so. One thing that I learned from watching He's Just Not That Into You is that if he's not calling you, he doesn't like you.  And if he's not calling because he's playing "the game", you don't want to date that kind of guy anyway. We're in our 30's, not 18.  You have a mere 10-15 years before you're that creepy old guy sitting at the bar trying to buy shots for younger women.  Time is of the essence at this point, so fricken call her. 

Moving on...

3. Stage 5 Clinger: Anyone who has seen Wedding Crashers knows what this is.  For those of you who haven't, a Stage 5 Clinger is someone (usually a woman, but definitely can be a guy, trust me on this) who is extremely needy and clingy.  They suffocate you with their insecure neediness.  My sister likes to remind me that I was once this person in my early 20's (I disagree...maybe Stage 2 but definitely not Stage 5, just sayin'.)  And until recently, I was guilty of assuming this was a "woman issue".  I figured it was just a term men had for women who wanted to spend time together more than they did.  I never really thought that I'd ever think of a guy as being a Clinger.  I like when the person I am dating pays attention to me and texts me.  However, I was set straight on this in January when I met the ultimate Stage 5 Clinger.  Nice guy, super cute, very sweet, very funny and had MANNERS. A true gentleman.  4 days later, flippin' nuts.  "Why aren't you texting me back (within 10 minutes)?  Why don't you care about me?  I love you!"  Yikes!  It took several days of being blatantly honest with him and finally ignoring him for him to go away.  The sad thing is that I totally would've fallen for that behavior several years ago.  I would've assumed he was just very attentive.  But having been single for the past 2 years, it was an instant red flag and I no longer wanted or needed someone who was attached to me like a hemorrhoid. 

4. The Pig: This guy is quite common, too.  I've referred to several of my dates (and my friends' dates) as pigs.  If someone gropes you on the first date, he's a pig.  If someone says something like, "I bet you're good in the sack", he's a pig.  If someone obviously stares at your boobs the whole night on your first date, he's a pig.  Now, I am an open-minded person and will acknowledge that men are drawn to boobs, especially nice boobs.  But a non-pig is subtle about it if he steals a peek and is able to keep the glances to a minimum.  Liking boobs doesn't make you a pig.  Drooling over them on the first date does.  My first date after the hiatus was "The Pig".  It was a set-up by a mutual friend who couldn't have known he was a pig since they had never dated.  We had a lot in common and both had a crude sense of humor, therefore it should've been a match made in heaven, right?  Not so much.  To start, he was 17 years my senior.  Our friend had thought he was in his early 40's, not late 40's.  But age difference aside, the main thing that made him undateable was the fact that he did all 3 things mentioned above on the first date.  Seriously...  Someone who falls into The Pig category needs to learn that if he plays his cards right, he'll eventually get to see boobs, but he damn well better treat me like a lady first. 

5. The Denial Dater: This guy is the ultimate time-waster.  It's one thing to waste time on a date or 2 and then realize he's not a good catch or that you're not a good match, but The Denial Dater drags it out for months.  He's just attentive enough to keep you interested and squash any worries about him being The Game Player or The Hoover, but he's not in it for the long haul and knows it all along.  The reason for his moniker is what he does at the end of the 3 or so month relationship.  He denies that the relationship ever existed.  He usually says something like, "We weren't dating.  We were hanging out."  Or "I never told you we were exclusive."  I've dated two of these and I didn't know if I wanted to laugh or punch them in the throat.  I don't typically pay a babysitter hundreds of dollars over several months to "hang out" unless it's an agreed-upon Friend Zone situation.  I'm good friends with a few of my past dates and that's cool.  But don't wine and dine and kiss me for 90 days and then pretend we're just buds. 

6. The Mirage: This guy is a chameleon.  He can pretend to be whatever he thinks you want him to be and he pulls it off like a champ.  Sometimes for several months.  He's probably the most disappointing type of date because he makes you believe that you've found your perfect match, but it's all based on a lie.  Then when you realize they are The Mirage, it's hard to leave because you've already developed feelings for this joker.  Some Mirages fake a certain personality while others fake interests and hobbies.  I've dated both, as have my friends.  My good friend's serious (now-ex)boyfriend pretended to value his faith but wasn't sure he even believed in God, pretended to be divorced while still living with his wife and pretended to be social like she very much is, but never spoke more than a few words to her friends.  My first Mirage was in 2009 when I dated "Steve" (ok, that's actually his real name...).  This guy was a fake sports fan, particularly hockey.  Not sure how long he thought he was going to keep up that charade, but it didn't last long.  It all came to a screeching halt when he didn't care about the Stanley Cup playoffs and didn't want to watch it (the Wings were in the finals that year).  Then he admitted to not caring about sports but wanting to have something in common with me.  Don't screw with my emotions when it comes to my love of sports.  A good test would've been to ask him what a "hat trick" is.  *Hint: it doesn't have anything to do with the players' helmets.*  Now, I don't want to sound shallow and give you the impression that I ended things because he didn't like sports.  However, I DID fall for him based on that "mutual" love of sports.  So finding out the truth kinda killed it for me.  My second Mirage was in 2010 when I became engaged to someone who pretended to be independent, secure and a non-smoker.  It took about 6 months for him to show me that none of that was true (well, I figured out the smoking part after 2 weeks).  If he had kept up his charade for another 6 months, I would've married one of the most insecure and jealous men I had ever met.  Major bullet dodged. 

So that was a summary of the most prevalent dates you may encounter as a single man/woman in the crazy dating world.  I'm sure these categories can apply to women as well, but they're obviously based on my experiences with the male species.  The first step to a happy and successful dating life (other than just miraculously not coming into contact with the d-bags) is to identify who NOT to date.  As you can see, I've already done the work for you.  Lucky me.  And you're welcome.  :-)