Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Traumatized.


There I was,
just a girl with a dream
of going to the Tulip Festival
at Thanksgiving Point.

And every spring
came and went
and it never seemed to work out.
.
.
Then Kaitlin said,
"I'm running a half marathon.
You run it too!"

And I said,
"Cool. Yeah.
It's at Thanksgiving Point.
I'll see the tulips.
It will be beautiful."
.
.
Two and a half months later,
the day came.

It was supposed to rain,
but I said,
"It doesn't really rain in Utah.
It'll drizzle
and then be fine."

So I wore shorts.

At the starting line,
I saw everyone in ponchos
and thought,
"What's with those people?
We're not going to get wet."
.
.
By mile three,
I was soaked.

"It's fine,"
I thought.
"This is great."
.
.
Then the course wove
through the gardens.

Tulip time!

I was expecting


But it was like


That's basically all the tulips there were.
.
.
The rest of the race
was bitter death.

No,
it didn't stop raining
the. entire. time.

Eventually,
I hobbled through the finish line.

I got a medal.

I took a selfie.


Congratulations,
you lived through hell.
.
.
A week later,
I was riding the train to Salt Lake.

When we stopped at Lehi Station,
I looked out the window at Thanksgiving Point
and felt
intense
and
almost
inexplicable
bitterness.

Apparently,
that was a lot more traumatic
than I realized.

I may never be able
to look at a tulip again.

1 comment:

  1. At least your hair looks cute when it's wet. (And, yes, occasionally I read your darling little blog.)

    ReplyDelete

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