The Big Win
Oh friends I have such news!
After many years of running I finally placed in my division. That’s right, first place in my age division! Well, ok, sure there were only two people running in my age division…nevertheless, it is still an effort and should be rewarded.
So after the race, I waited anxiously for the city of Bluffdale to call my name so I could accept my award. Surely, they must give out trophies the size of small children, or at least a Geo Prizm to the winners of the 5K.
While I waited for them to call out my name, I started going over my acceptance speech in my head, “Thank you so much, all of you. I wanted to thank some very special people, who made all this possible. I would like to thank my track coach who stood by me even during the steroid scandal of ’93. Thanks to my dad who encouraged me to pull on some tenni runners and those embarrassing running shorts with the flap on the side and get out there and run. And to all you children who never thought they could win in your respective age groups, I stand as a witness that dreams do come true. I have kicked open the door wide for all you tall lurpy children to follow in my foot steps.”
So finally, the announcer gets to my division. A hush falls over the crowd. I rise in anticipation from my chair in a heroic fashion with arms stretched heaven ward, walking toward the podium.
“The winner of the of the 2009 Bluffdale Badlands 5K in the 30-34 age division is… Rob…um…Rob aab…abnarch.. Rob Abercromb..”
All of a sudden it’s like the $10,000 Dollar Pyramid for the announcer trying to come up with my last name.
An awkward pause fell over the audience as I yelled from the back, “It’s Abney!”
She responds, “No, that’s not it.”
So what do I do at this point? I am already half way up to the podium. Should I go sit back down? Do I just go take the award any way? What if there is another runner name “Rob” and he really won.
So after what seemed to be 3 hours of verifying who I was, they finally handed me a blue ribbon and a doughnut.
When I tried to reach for the microphone to give my acceptance speech they told me they didn’t have time because they had to start giving away the big prizes and the trophies the size of children to the winners of the 10K. Nice.
Well now I have finally won I can quite running and start my true calling as a motivational speaker to tall lurpy children who dream of getting first in their age division. I would tell the sweet children to have low expectations as to what their prize may be. Maybe putting all your eggs into winning a car is not their best option after a 5K.
You see children we build to that.
After many years of running I finally placed in my division. That’s right, first place in my age division! Well, ok, sure there were only two people running in my age division…nevertheless, it is still an effort and should be rewarded.
So after the race, I waited anxiously for the city of Bluffdale to call my name so I could accept my award. Surely, they must give out trophies the size of small children, or at least a Geo Prizm to the winners of the 5K.
While I waited for them to call out my name, I started going over my acceptance speech in my head, “Thank you so much, all of you. I wanted to thank some very special people, who made all this possible. I would like to thank my track coach who stood by me even during the steroid scandal of ’93. Thanks to my dad who encouraged me to pull on some tenni runners and those embarrassing running shorts with the flap on the side and get out there and run. And to all you children who never thought they could win in your respective age groups, I stand as a witness that dreams do come true. I have kicked open the door wide for all you tall lurpy children to follow in my foot steps.”
So finally, the announcer gets to my division. A hush falls over the crowd. I rise in anticipation from my chair in a heroic fashion with arms stretched heaven ward, walking toward the podium.
“The winner of the of the 2009 Bluffdale Badlands 5K in the 30-34 age division is… Rob…um…Rob aab…abnarch.. Rob Abercromb..”
All of a sudden it’s like the $10,000 Dollar Pyramid for the announcer trying to come up with my last name.
An awkward pause fell over the audience as I yelled from the back, “It’s Abney!”
She responds, “No, that’s not it.”
So what do I do at this point? I am already half way up to the podium. Should I go sit back down? Do I just go take the award any way? What if there is another runner name “Rob” and he really won.
So after what seemed to be 3 hours of verifying who I was, they finally handed me a blue ribbon and a doughnut.
When I tried to reach for the microphone to give my acceptance speech they told me they didn’t have time because they had to start giving away the big prizes and the trophies the size of children to the winners of the 10K. Nice.
Well now I have finally won I can quite running and start my true calling as a motivational speaker to tall lurpy children who dream of getting first in their age division. I would tell the sweet children to have low expectations as to what their prize may be. Maybe putting all your eggs into winning a car is not their best option after a 5K.
You see children we build to that.
Comments
Bless you. Bless you forever.
(my verification word is "nurinerd". Fitting, I think.)