Day 285: I'm not exactly sure how I wound up walking four hours on an asphalt track in 90-degree temperatures today. It had something to do with running into a Park acquaintance who happened to be a team captain in the Relay For Life, and a sad story about a lack of team members. The next thing I knew, I'd laid down $10 to register, had been given an official t-shirt which I'd stashed in the car, and was lining up behind the Survivors who took the first lap as a group. Then I started walking. No, "walking" is a poor word to use for what I was doing. They had a DJ and some lively music, and every time I went 'round, I danced the hundred feet in front of the stage. I won a hula hoop for the energy I put into the routine, and it was promptly decorated with purple ribbons by the team captain. From that point on, I did my laps with the hoop in constant motion around my wrist, over my head, or dancing with it as I passed the stage.
As the day went on, several of the Relay's committee members came up to me and expressed concern over whether I was getting enough water and food. "I'm fine," I said. "I took five minutes to have a salad and I just downed a pint of juice. I'm sweating and my skin's not clammy. I'm staying hydrated. Don't worry!" In fact, it felt better to be walking than sitting. I took a five-minute break at the team's booth and wished I'd kept moving.
Most (maybe all) of the teams managed vendors' booths selling anything from elastic bracelets and "neck coolers" to 15-minute massage sessions and reduced-rate memberships in a local fitness center. The headless jock in this photo cracked me up.
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