Return of Ortega River Run: Run Harder

I didn’t write about some of the people in the race yesterday, so I will today. The race had barely started before a kid, who was six at the oldest, decided running wasn’t the thing to do and had a full on Chernobyl meltdown. We weren’t 100 yards past the start line and he was screaming at the top of his lungs about not wanting to run in the race. It was awesome. His mom, to her credit, didn’t take him very seriously. I guess she figured as long as her little monster didn’t stop running he could scream all he wanted. I don’t think it ever occurred to him to stop. Kids are funny. I passed them pretty quickly and never saw them again. About a mile into the race I came upon a family running together – a mom, a dad, and an eight or nine year old girl. The girl felt the same way as the little boy, but her game was a little bit tighter. She was fake wheezing in the most dramatic way she could. You would have thought she was inhaling mustard gas. Dad wasn’t buying it and told her so. Mom told dad not to push her or she’d wind up hating running. Dad said sarcastically, “Too late for that!” On my way around them I heard a group of Ortega housewives gossiping about another Ortega housewife who wasn’t with them. I was surprised. I had no idea that kind of thing went on, talking behind a friend’s/neighbor’s back. The best thing about them was their accent. If you’ve lived in Jacksonville you can hear it, the middle to upper middle class WASP North Florida housewife drawl. It’s not like any other Southern accent. I’ve never heard it in a movie or on television. I think it disappears quickly if the speaker is forced to talk to people not like her, at a job or in another city. If I had run into these women after the three mile marker I would have slowed down. I love good gossip. But this was barely a mile and a half in, so I was still motivated. They were the last interesting runners I encountered, but miles 4 and 5 of the course were sprinkled with nice Ortega people in their front yards cheering and encouraging the runners. Some of them even make banners. They don’t have to do that. For all intents and purposes the only thing the race does is tie up their traffic for a couple of hours. They make lemonade, a few of them literally.