Spectator Race Report: Firecracker 5k

April and I go way back. We've known each other since the 3rd grade. She's the friend that will bail you out of jail at 3am and not tell anyone; she'll get drunk with you on a Tuesday night when you need to get wasted because some stupid boy did something stupid; she'll go in the bathroom stall with you at Flying Saucer when you are drunker than shit and make sure you don't puke all over yourself or die (all of these are just hypothetical situations, of course); she'll even run a freaking marathon with you.

We're tight, to say the least.

So, when she told me she was making her racing comeback, I wanted to be there for her. She was there for me when I ran the Memphis Marathon. She got up early to drop me off at the start line, she and Greg (her husband) camped out at the 20 mile mark with homemade signs and took pictures of me. It was awesome.

I wanted to throw my support to her, for once. This wasn't my first race to be a spectator, but it was my first race to watch her. And though I didn't have any signs made up, I wanted to be on the course to root her on. Greg had other ideas, he wanted to watch her start, head to the bar next door, pound a beer, and then head to the finish. Even though that was a mighty tempting offer, I convinced Greg to study the map with me and pick out our cheer spot.

As it turns out... I am an awful cheerleader.

Though I was enthusiastic in trying to find the perfect spot to root her on, when the moment actually happened... I almost missed her entirely. You see... Greg and I were occupied with spending our time heckling the runners who were cheating by cutting the corner and taking the sidewalk. Tsk Tsk. You know who you are. So, when Greg yelled... "there she is!" She was literally RIGHT THERE. Like running past us. "Oh Shit! My camera!" I started to try to jog down the sidewalk and turn my camera on... but, it was too late. I had missed her and the opportunity to take a picture of her as she ran past. Not only that... in all the hub-bub, I didn't even offer up any encouragement. No... "Looking good" or "Great job." Just frenzied expletives.

Greg and I decided that we should be able to see her again right before the finish if we hustled. So we found a perfect spot and awaited her. This time... we had a plan. Greg was going to take the camera (because he was going to take a knee to get a better angle) and it was my job to be the spotter. I came through with my spotting duties. I found her and alerted Greg. He, however, was not used to my camera and as April whizzed by us, we were left yelling at each other...
"did you get a picture?"
"No! Your stupid camera isn't working."
"You gotta hold the button down."
"I was holding the button down."
Arg!!!!! No pictures.

Turns out though... I did do one nice thing for her...

Being the awesome friend that I am... I took one for the team and posed for a shit-tay pre-race picture. All to make her look even cooler than she already is. Only for you, April. Only for you will I forgo the sunglasses that I must have forgotten were conveniently on top of my head and squint directly into the sun for a picture.

You're welcome.

Not only is April a better race cheerleader... but she's a better racer, too. Unlike me in Memphis, she didn't burst into tears and puke after the race. And yeah... she's probably a better friend than I am, too. sonofabitch.