The Bun Run

As much as I profess to be a bit of a city girl these days (living downtown, walking the kidlets to school, taking them with me to the neighborhood Starbucks and watching them play in the city park while I gulp down the occasional latte without scalding my throat), there is just something about Small-town Indiana Summer Festivals that feel like coming home.

The sun, warm, beating down on the tops of open-engine antique show cars creating heat waves in the middle distance.

The smell of roasted corn and elephant ears and charcoal grills.

The smell of leather belts and freshly carved wood shavings, and the wafted scent of warm bread and styrofoam trays of cookies from the softly smiling Amish ladies.

The buzz of local bakeries and craftsmen setting up shop under striped awnings and tents.

The hum of kids setting up under lemonade stands.

This is where I grew up.

This is what I worry I'm depriving The Munchkins of by raising them in the lee of the bank buildings and cathedrals downtown. This is what I reveled in last Saturday while in Frankfort, Indiana for the bulk of the morning.

I joined a good group of the family in a caravan up to Frankfort for their annual Summer Hot Dog Festival...

As a recreational runner, do you know what I love about 5Ks? They're manageable.

And by manageable, I mean that I can basically not train and still not die.

I feel bad about saying that when I know that there are people out there that train the bejeesus out of life to run a 5K...but that's the beauty of being a self-proclaimed recreational runner. I can conquer the molehills, just not the mountains with a fair amount of ease. And so, Saturday, I just sort of loped along, through neighborhoods and town squares, enjoying the morning in my first-ever Frankfort, IN 5K Bun Run.

Yes. Bun Run.

As in Hot Dogs.

Coming full circle with me? Try and keep up.

Even in 90+ degree heat at 8am I didn't keel over. I sweated. a lot. but I didn't keel over. I feel like that's an accomplishment worthy of touting.

AND? I got to take a picture with a giant Hot Dog.

AND? I was interviewed by WIBC (just after Dr. Dirt, thankyouverymuch) on a live radio spot on my experience with the race.

AND? My mom & sister-in-law may have taken places in their respective age categories as top finishers, replete with medals prominently featuring Frank the hot dog mascot.

AND? the day might also have involved breakfast with the family and a certain birthday cake shaped like a certain body part that ended in hilarity.

What a great race. What a great morning.