Sunday, May 17, 2009

Morning in C-Ville

Paul decided that he wanted to run a half marathon this weekend, so he signed up for a small race in Waynesboro, VA. Waynesboro is about an hour out of Charlottesville, which is about an hour and a half from my in-law's house, which is about an hour and a half from our house in MD.

Got all that?

He considered getting a hotel room for Friday night (half-marathon eve), but decided that $150 dollars was not worth the convenience. Instead, this was Paul's plan:

1. Drive to his parents' house Friday night.

2. Leave his parents' house at 3:30 AM Saturday morning to get to Waynesboro in time for the race at 7:00 AM. Then, run 13.1 miles. Then, drive back to VA to spend the weekend with his mom and dad.

When he asked me if I wanted to come along, my first response was a hearty, "Hell, no!" However, after giving it some thought, I changed my mind. These are the lengths I will take to spend some time alone with my husband.

In all seriousness, I haven't been able to support Paul's running for some time now. Most races are far away and start early in the morning---not the best combo when working with toddlers and babies. For the past two marathons, I've been home with the boys, and Paul's cheering section is thus quieter than it should be.

So, we decided that it would be good practice for us to leave both boys with Paul's folks, and at 3:30 Saturday morning, we were bound for the mountains.

I slept most of the way up, and was startled awake when Paul pulled into a gas station. I figured we were in Waynesboro, being that it was 5:30 AM. Paul often gets to races super-early so he can shiver in the cold, wait in line for the Port-A-John, and do a warm-up run, among other neurotic pre-race rituals.

Instead, Paul turned to me and said, "I am not feeling up to this today."

This is not Paul. Paul is the one that runs through blizzards, up hills, in the heat, and through the hail. I'm the one that gets incredulous looks from my neighbors as they scrape the ice off their windshields and ask, "Was that your husband I just saw running through the snowbank?"

So, when Paul says he's not up to something, something is up. It turns out that he got about two hours of sleep the night before---Joel was fussing (and I was unaware), and Paul also had work stuff that was running through his head, keeping him awake.

When Paul said, "I don't think this race is going to happen," I asked him if he was sure. He was.

"So," I said, "What do we do in Charlottesville, VA at 5:30 in the morning?"

Paul thought for a moment, "We sleep in the car until Starbucks opens, then we go from there."

That is exactly what we did. We waited in front of Starbucks like jittery alcoholics on a Sunday afternoon. We drank our coffee, and enjoyed a conversation that flowed like a meandering stream. We talked about work, dreams, the future, the past, and naturally, the boys. We relished the simple pleasures of complete thoughts and shared affection.

After an hour at Starbucks, we decided to have breakfast and coffee. After breakfast (two beautiful breakfast burritos and fancy-pants organic, free-trade coffee), we ended our morning in going to Old Navy.

Paul needed shorts. Badly.

So, no, we didn't see Monticello, or The University of Virginia, or the various vineyards, or the mountains. We certainly didn't get to Waynesboro.

We did, however, do what we do best: share stories, make each other laugh, and make the best of any situation.

Who needs to sleep in when you've got that?

1 comment:

Coby Goesling said...

Sooo glad for you that you got to do that - what a great time with your husband! It really is simple pleasures