Without a goal in front of me, my motivation tends to fade fast. Luckily, my sister Emily helped kick me in the butt and invited me to sign up for the Electric Run, a night-time 5K that took place at Austin's Travis County Expo Center. I was a tad leery about the Electric Run in the beginning because the entry fee was $55, and it wasn't easy to figure out which charity the event sponsored. I'm all about participating if the money is going to charity. The Electric Run's charity of choice turned out to be Back on My Feet, an organization devoted to helping the homeless use running to help transition into independent living. It's unclear what portion of the proceeds goes directly to the charity, but either way, it looks like a good cause.
The Electric Run's course includes several delightful, brightly-lit scenes to keep you motivated while you're jogging along in your fun costume and piles of glow sticks. It may seem random to participate in a 5K that involves so much costuming, but if you haven't been paying attention to the trends in 5K events, it's all about color right now. You've got The Color Run, which touts being "The Happiest 5K on the Planet." If your definition of happy is running while someone is shooting you with dyed corn starch, then I guess it really is the happiest 5K on the planet. The Color Run has a lot of competition, though. There's also Color Me Rad, the Color in Motion 5K, and the Run or Dye Fun Run. While I haven't done one of the daytime color-themed events because I'm not fond of sucking in dyed powder while I'm panting, I do like the idea of training for one of those color events. I'd ask my husband to hop in the car and follow me along my Saturday morning neighborhood course, passing me slowly as my daughter and her friends pelt me with home-made dyed corn starch. As long as they aimed below the neck, I think I could get into it.
For the Electric Run, my sister was responsible for making us cute because she's a modern-day Edith Head, and because I have zero talent when it comes to creating an electric outfit suitable for a 5K. Emily busted out the battery-pack light sets, glow sticks and bright make-up, and we were on our way. Two good friends joined us, and we met beforehand to apply hair color, eyelashes, and have a pre-race cocktail and some vegetarian tacos. [Caution: If you are running a 5K, don't have a pre-race cocktail and vegetarian taco. Trust me here.]
Traffic was terrible and parking about as bad, so we arrived at the event with minutes to spare before the race started, only to learn that the event organizers are brilliant, and start the event in heats that are staggered about every 15 minutes. Given that 10,000 people signed up for the Spring Electric Run (evidently it's so popular they do two a year), this was a great idea.
Here we are before the race, looking particularly electric.
Before the race began, we observed the scene. I'd guess the average age of the runners for this event was about 22, so it was an energetic group for sure. A fired-up guy with a loudspeaker yelled motivational things at us in between electronic music breaks. As we got closer to the start line, we noticed the guy was cranked up on a crane a few stories above us, and he and his assistants were hurling glow sticks and t-shirts at the crowd below. Because I'm a mom, I did my best to remain cool-headed while I fretted that someone was going to lose an eye from an unfortunate glow stick injury.
I talk frequently about a term I call "piggy pigginess" which has several definitions and uses, but one has to do with the state people get in when free things are being offered. As much as I like to think I'm immune to being tempted by freebies, sometimes I just get caught up in the rapture. When we approached the start line and the fired-up announcer started hurling freebies at us, I went a bit nuts as I saw him dangling a pair of neon pink legwarmers, I guess because neon pink legwarmers are vital when you're running in Austin, Texas in September when it's still 125 degrees. My apparent natural piggy-pigginess kicked into full gear, and right before we began to run, I screamed so passionately that I caught the attention of the freebie thrower, and quickly became the proud new owner of a brand new pair of neon pink legwarmers. My reaction to catching them indicated that it was all worth the $55 registration fee, and it gave me just the kick I needed to start jogging. The only problem was my sister and I had to take shifts carrying the legwarmers (because she's nice that way and I was whining), and now, I don't even know where they are. I feel a bit sad because I just realized they may be gone forever.
I won't lie; the lights at the Electric Run are mighty dazzling. The first scene felt like part Wizard of Oz, part Electric Parade at Disney World. Pretty trippy stuff, both literally and figuratively, because everyone was oohing and aahing and it was hard not to trip on people and sticks (the first part of the 5K has a bit of trail running). Unfortunately, by the time we ran past the first woodland scene, I was already feeling the effects of the pre-race cocktail and vegetarian taco, and I didn't have it in me to consistently jog at that point. My sister, a patient and kind sort, stuck with me while I complained in between random LED scenes.
And random it really was. The Austin Electric Run takes place at the Travis County Expo Center, which is also where our rodeo takes place, so at one point during the race you're running through a huge barn full of upside down lit-up umbrellas. It looks really cool, but as soon as you gasp with wonder, you get a good whiff of cow manure. It's pretty disgusting.
After a few more cool scenes and, in our case, a stretch that included a somewhat blasphemous electronic mix of some of Queen's greatest hits, you're at the finish line for the dance party. Here's what the website suggests you'll find at the end of the yellow-lit road:
Well, not quite. It was far less packed than their website pic above, but that was what they were going for for sure. Promotional temp employees slathered in Proactiv appeared out of nowhere and shoved free Rock Star Energy Drinks at us, while I yelled, "No, thanks! I'm afraid of drinks like that!" (I don't know why, but that response always gets blank stares from the young ones).
There were lots of people dancing around waving glow sticks. We made a beeline for the bar to buy overpriced watery beer, and I felt elderly again as the guy on the mic urged everyone to throw their glow sticks in the air all at once. I watched, amused, as a teenage girl scurried around collecting used sweaty glow sticks off the ground, in a major piggy piggy glow stick moment. I couldn't help but think about what would happen when, twelve hours later, that poor piggy piggy girl would be sitting in a dark room in tears, buried in a pile of clear glow sticks, realizing for the first time that glow sticks have an expiration date.
Just as we were toasting our success and checking out the scene, I bent down to tie my shoe. As I stood up, I nearly took out the person standing behind me. That person was a toddler. She was standing there holding a glow stick and looking understandably overwhelmed. I'm guessing it was her first nighttime 5K/rave, so I looked around for a parental figure, and about ten feet behind us stood a woman behind a stroller, completely unaware I'd nearly knocked her kid down. As I was about to pick up the toddler and take her back to her mother, the toddler wandered back to the mother-ship stroller, glow stick in tow. I was pretty impressed she managed to make it back without falling, since the dance party floor was already covered in spilled beer. She was one savvy toddler.
Now, the Electric Run advertises that it's a family friendly event, stating on their website that, "We believe everyone, no matter their age, should be able to experience incredible lights and music in an environment that is healthy and happy." And I'm all about family friendly events, but when it's that loud, and glow sticks are flying around, perhaps you might consider hiring a babysitter? Because let's face it, when you're unsure if the pacifier in your stroller belongs to your toddler or to you, you've got a bit of a problem on your hands.
We stayed long enough to dance off our post race beer and pre-race vegetarian tacos, and long enough for me to get hit square in the head several times by a gigantic blow-up liquor bottle that was being tossed around in the crowd. Each time it landed on my head, my sister and I laughed a little harder. What were we thinking?
At the end of the day, it may be time for me to hang up my glow sticks and return to daytime events where the only colorful fun is the Gatorade at the water stops, but if you're wanting a to put a little light on the subject and you don't mind running over toddlers in glow stick tiaras, feel free to sign up for an Electric Run near you. Just be sure to share your stories with me!
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