Loggerrodeo

An early morning 4th; the bagel splayed, greasy chunk peanut butter, banana slices & a large, creamy coffee. The great sedro woolley footrace is a family affair, equipped with confused older men directing traffic inefficiently, silent audiences, random hose sprays, a couple cows with their tails arched to give way, mini ponies crop dusted in american glitter, old farts practicing cast-off's, roller betties, many many shaved wood beavers and bears. It was another case of the baby-jogger-dad killin' it with a top 3 finish. LB and her man, Ian came from Seattle to race it together prior to a Baker Lake date night camping trip with jello shots. LB and I took 1-2 out of the females, stood around dorkily as they called us up for big-headed ribbons, then said hasta la vista & separated for elaborate american rituals, like drinking, wearing onesies, watching soccer, thrifting, oohing ahhing, admiring dogs that look like furby, or gremlins.

I enjoy setting up races or hard workouts on holidays because it makes gluttony over the holiday all the more savory. No time for a shower before the first soccer game, where we perched at the bar eating burgers and fries and beers. Much reading, coffee drinking, mexican dinner and margarita devouring, then fireworks across the bay viewed from coach chris' condo, strewn about in blankets, listening more to the elders talk memories than to fully feel the light show.