Brian and I ran the Jingle Run 5k in Roanoke this morning. Now, it was the most poorly planned race I have ever run (started 15 minutes late, no-one could figure out where the start line was or which direction we were supposed to line up in) but I am absolutely planning on doing it again next year for one main reason.
They handed out two jingle bells in your race packet in case you missed the “Jingle Run” memo, so literally, everyone jingled. It was awesome.
The gun went off, everyone started jogging, and instead of just the tramp of a thousand pairs of feet, a storm of rhythmic chimes erupted over the start line! For the first two tenths, I couldn’t stop giggling. It is difficult to be grumpy about running when jingle bells are involved.
Difficult, but not impossible, as my long-suffering husband (who I nagged into tying his own bells onto his shoes) made the comment after one top-to-bottom bell bedecked runner passed us: “I wonder how many elves she killed to get all those jingle bells…”