And it was under threatening cloudy skies that we ran for
our color on May 11th.
After threading through the National Harbor on a beautifully
sunny day last year, it was hard not to feel at least a little disappointed looking
at the weather forecast in the days leading up to the race. How would the
colored powder hold up to the rain? Clearly our only fate was to emerge from
the course as caked, mud colored, powder monsters.
The morning of the 5K arrived and there was no rain. We
climbed into the car armed with coffee and many towels to clean the pending
mess and there was no rain. We arrived, drove in circles till we found the
parking lot. and there was no rain.
Waiting, corralled in a stretch of open asphalt with an
extremely flexible and enthusiastic Zumba instructor, and there was no rain.
Every K that passed brought another layer of color, and wonderfully, still, there was no rain. Not until the finish line came into view did the first
drops fall. Light and scattered. Polka-dotting our skin and turning each one of
us into a work of splatter paint.
This made the race-end "mosh pit" celebration party even more fun. Every color packet thrown became a mix of powder, paste, and paint on every fold of clothing and patch of skin. And also, made for some great photos. Coughing through a haze of cornstarch, it was a technicolor world.
(And also a great place to snap a few engagement photos for our partners in crime!)
This made the race-end "mosh pit" celebration party even more fun. Every color packet thrown became a mix of powder, paste, and paint on every fold of clothing and patch of skin. And also, made for some great photos. Coughing through a haze of cornstarch, it was a technicolor world.
(And also a great place to snap a few engagement photos for our partners in crime!)
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