In honor of Father’s day today, the Kapsner crew piled in the car and headed out to the second largest gathering of Minnesota’s finest (right behind the State Fair) …a Twin’s game. For those of you who know my dad, he is just a regular guy who enjoys the everyday things in life. He had one simple request for the day and that was to arrive to the game early enough so that he could be one of the first 10,000 fans to receive a Twin’s spatula that doubles as a bottle opener, every man’s dream right? So, in order to satisfy my dad’s request, the family piled in the car a good two hours before the first pitch. It felt as if we were leaving for the airport in typical Kappy fashion which is always arriving 3 or more hours early to our flight, which I have never understood but that’s a whole other topic to be discussed later. Luckily we got to the game early enough to make it in with the elite crowd of 10,000 and secured a spatula in the fierce competition. You would have thought my dad won the lottery based on his excitement when he got this spatula. Moral of the story, arriving to the ballpark a solid hour early left much time for one of my favorite pastimes, people watching. Spatula in hand, it was time for the Kapsner’s to take on the many mullets, cut off t-shirts accompanied by awful tan lines, and 50 shades of khaki cargo shorts. It was a perfect day spent taking in the aromatic ballpark smell of sweaty people and hotdogs, listening to my mom mispronounce the player’s names, and being with my favorite people. Above all, today provided me with a much-needed reminder to always appreciate the simple things in life like my dad always has. Whether it is a hard-earned spatula or just spending time with the people you love, enjoy it people.
Until who knows when,
Paul carefully guarding his sacred spatula. Me with my favorite dude.
So today I did what I used to think was only a task for the insane… I ran a marathon. It was all around an amazing experience, I was able to check another thing off my bucket list, qualified for Boston 2014 and along the way learned some valuable lessons. Here are a couple things I learned today:
- When in doubt, act like you know what you’re doing. The start line is the ultimate zone of judgment. Everyone is doing confusing stretches, consuming weird gels, bars, and beans making me wonder if my oatmeal breakfast is magical enough, and flaunting the shortest of shorts (side note: if you’re a man and your shorts are shorter than mine, you need to reconsider your wardrobe choices). I made the rookie mistake of waiting to go to the bathroom ‘til I got there, thus forcing myself to wait in the ridiculously long bathroom line. While stepping out of the port-a-potty I looked at my watch and realized I had 2 minutes until start time. The start line is about a 5-minute walk from the drop off so I turned this little walk into a brisk jog so I’d make it in time. A nice unexpected warm up. I jogged right up to the start line and continued to run across the start line into the race. Yeah…I totally meant to do this warm up. ***10 intimidation points for Libs***
- Turns out, people don’t like to chat during these things. This lesson was learned very quickly. “Have you run many marathons before?” “Yeah” “Cool. Good talk.”
- Never trust workout Barbie. It was almost mile number 10 and I was feeling a little tired. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a pink blur quickly approaching. Adorned in a hot pink matching tank top and shorts, sporting the highest of ponies, she ran up beside me and introduced herself with“Hi I’m Cami, we can do this!” Cami continued to push me and we encouraged each other for the next couple miles. We were running at a pretty good pace and pumping one another up as we ran along. Cami and I were BFFs until mile marker 13 came along and workout Barbie turned into my worst enemy. She waved to me and said “You got it girl!” as she veers to the left to cross the half marathon finish line as I continue for another 13 miles. YEAH THANKS A LOT CAMI.
- No gel, bar, or gear will get you across that finish line better than a screaming mom, dad and best friend. Some of the other runners may have had better equipment than I did, but I guarantee that I had the best cheering section there. There’s really nothing better than a screaming mom with several staring spectators to pull me across the finish line. Also, honorable mention to the little girl with the puppy hat on that gave me a high five, you rock.
- I can always count on the announcer to mispronounce my last name. But no matter how badly the announcer butchers your last name as you cross the finish line, in the end, it’s all about the crazy people who are waiting there for you. It takes a special level of love/insanity for a person to wake up at 5 am on a Sunday morning and drive all the way to Minneapolis to watch someone suffer as they run the last few strides across the finish line. Whether it’s Kasper, Kaspner, or any of the other endless possibilities, I feel beyond blessed to have people waiting for me at that finish line and supporting me through all the ridiculous things I decide to do.
Until who knows when,
PS: I’ll probably have a different view on this whole marathon thing when I wake up and try to get out of bed tomorrow morning…
The many faces of my number one cheerleader.