Usually AK is all, “Let’s get outta town! We never travel!” And I’m all, “Remember three weeks ago when we went to Denver because I had that conference and you got to chill out in our super nice hotel room? But I was kind of stressed out because I had to moderate that panel and you got lost looking for the baseball stadium, so I can see how it wasn’t totally a vacation. But still, travel is travel, and it’s not like the cats will understand if we just leave them again because our last trip wasn’t fun enough.”
Well, this time we really haven’t traveled in six months. Not for work, not for pleasure. No airplane rides, no road trips. And the two very big trips we did over the summer, while lovely and magical in their own ways, were not exactly of the beach-and-umbrella-drink variety. So for once we both agree: We need a vacation.
I’m getting one: three nights in Austin without a single meeting to run or reading to give or even any friends of my own to see (not that I don’t love visiting you, my out-of-town peeps). AK is sort of the Cheryl on this trip because she’s got some business to take care of, although it is chosen business: She’ll be running the 3M Half Marathon. That’s right, 3M. I’m banking on a goody bag full of Post-Its. This run doesn’t support research for AIDS or cancer or Parkinson’s, and although we’re in favor of research for those diseases, I think we’re both a little skeptical about consumer philanthropy. So AK runs for Post-Its.
She’s been training diligently for months now. Because I’m officially the anal one in our relationship, sometimes I forget that she can actually be really self-disciplined. It’s been encouraging to see her run so much because I feel like maybe getting our future children to eat their vegetables and brush their teeth won’t be a solo battle. Also, she’s looking pretty buff these days.
My role in the half marathon will be that of cheerleader, picture taker and PB&J sandwich provider. It sounds easy enough, but the race starts at 6:45 a.m. on Sunday, so it’s not all bonbons and sleeping in for me. Jody will be running too, so Christine will be my buddy on the sidelines and I’m guessing we’ll carb-load in solidarity with our running spouses. It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.