This past weekend, I went to Country’s
Midnight Run, a 5k race held annually by Country’s Restaurant in Columbus. The
race starts at midnight (hence the name), but my friends and I got there at
about 8 pm. There were already tons of people there, watching the preshow and
milling about the tents. One of the tents was Big Dog Running Company, which my
friends beeline to, eager to see a couple of people I didn’t know. I stood to
the side, awkwardly. One of my friends, Brooke, tried to make conversation, but
I had nothing to say. My answers were short, and she gave up, letting me go
back to people watching. I don’t know why I was in a sour mood. I had had a bad
day, but usually being with friends cheered me up. I apologized to her a bit
later, with a bottle of water as a peace offering.
Everything
seemed to annoy me that night. The dogs kept hitting me with their tail, I didn’t
know as many people as I was hoping, no one was selling beer, and worst of all
was the singer. She was talented, but she was a talker. Normally, I’d be able
to tune out the pretentious babble of a pre-preshow singer, but tonight was my
night to sulk, it seemed. The crowning moment of her prattle was, after
inviting the United cheerleaders up to the ‘dance floor,’ she told them that
they might not know the song she was about to play, but that their mom would.
Then she started to sing “Hey, Mickey.” The biggest cheerleading movie of all
time, Bring It On, features this
song, and I’m sure most of those girls have seen it, or at least an ABC Family
censored out version, which seemed to change even slightly risqué words into
fluff that didn’t make sense (Although, anyone who was hanging onto every word
of this movie in the hope of a philosophical Eureka! moment might have bigger
issues to deal with). The anger that bowled its way through my other emotions
to the front, even shoving annoyance to the side with fervor, was a sign that I
might have bigger issues to deal with too.
I took a deep
breath, honed in on the conversation that Brooke and Katie were having (I don’t
remember what it was about, but I know it was something I either couldn’t
contribute to or just didn’t care about), and tried my best to calm myself.
Once we moved away from the stage and met up with our other friends, I was much
more composed. I even laughed at Nick, who had run from his house to the
downtown Country’s instead of the one where the race was actually being held. I
saw some people I wasn’t expecting to see, chatted with new friends, and even
met the lead singer from the actual band I had come to see, Classic Addict.
Overall, once I got over myself, I had a good night and made some pretty nifty
memories.
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