|Before the GovRun|
Saturday, my mom took me to her school for a color run that she was participating in. When we checked in, they had an extra ticket for her so I was able to participate too... if I wanted it to.
When I first heard about it, I was yeah! I can run! Then I was told they throw paint at you while you are running. I will be honest, that didn't sound too fun.
Mom told me to think about it.
We had the day. There was a fun carnival with 'stuff-a-bear' activities and inflatable bounce houses. After lunch was when I had to make the decision so that we knew who was going to go with mom.
We talked about it and mom told me that there was an option to walk or run around the paint stations so that we didn't get covered in paint. There was also the option to walk instead of run, mom preferred this one because she has a bad knee. So after much deliberation, I decided to do it.
Mom told me that after the run we could leave because they were going to have a loud party with music and more paint throwing that would involve people bumping into each other and getting paint all over us in addition to it just being loud. I was fine with that.
Then it was time for the race to start.
I am not sure what came over me, but when they did the count down and said go... I ran. Dad said I finished the mile in less than ten minutes, with not a speck of paint on me. I just ran too fast for it to land on me.
Once mom caught up to me I begged her to go into the after party and we had a blast. We threw paint, tossed huge beach balls, got sprayed with paint, and danced. It was fun.
But when it was all over, I was done. I was tired and more than ready to go home and go to bed. I did tell mom that the reason I could handle the silliness was because I wanted to have fun. It is all a matter of focus for me. If I focus on having fun, I can enjoy myself. That way the fact that the music was crazy loud did not hurt. And while I changed clothes as soon as we got to the truck and took a bath as soon as we got home, I was okay. I am slowly adjusting to life with sensory processing disorder.
|At the end of it all.|