ouch

Today we had a big old regatta (yes, it is Sunday - Crew really likes to have regattas on Sundays). It actually went pretty well, despite the 6:45 am meeting time, a few sick kids, and one little bugger who skipped the whole thing altogether (people who avoid work at the expense of others are maybe the people I dislike most in this world). We were lucky enough to have AMAZING parents there; the families of a bunch of kids came by to support, and better yet, they brough food. Delicious food. I mean homemade egg and cheese sandwiches made lovingly by the parents of a senior who for many reasons I will be sad to see graduate. I mean homemade hummus (!!!). I mean the most delicious cookie bars I have ever tasted, made of some magical mixture of graham crackers, chocolate chips, coconut, butterscotch, and any other number of things I didn't pick out because I was scarfing these things down so quickly my taste buds didn't have time to evaluate them. The best part of the day was that one of our boats came in second place, which qualified them for finals - and it was a boat I coach. I couldn't be more proud! When they crossed the finish line, I was so dumbfounded I actually fell down a hill and nearly into the lake. I may or may not have cried. My crying may or may not have been captured photographically by the aforementioned egg sandwich making parents.
The downside to the day was that it was long, rainy, and exhausting. Somehow, I got stuck in the pit, ushering kids in and out of the docks, hauling oars, retrieving kids' smelly shows, and loading the trailer. I saw our first race (the one my girls won) and missed our other five. Grr. In the process of all of this, I maybe got the best workout ever. Let me explain. The lake we were rowing at, like many lakes, is sort of a crater set in the middle of a pile of big hills. Our trailer was at the top of one of these big hills. No matter what, I was guaranteed to walk up and down this hill a bunch of times. But because of scheduling and a lack of people helping me, I instead ended up running up and down this hill a bunch of times. About five of these runs up the hill were punctuated by the fact that I was transporting oars. Now, normally, sane and well-prepared people carry two oars at a time - one in each hand. I, insane and unprepared, carried four on one shoulder. While running. Uphill. In the rain and in jeans. On the final trip up, however, I was saved by one incredibly sweet boy on our team, Charlie, who ran up, took all four oars from me, and forced me to take a plate of two hot dogs in return (I was not at all hungry, so I gave them to two other coaches who were nearby). The other kids told me later that Charlie had been down at our spectator tent, about 1/2 mile from the docks, and realized I hadn't been back all day to eat. He ordered up some food for me and ran it over so I could have a break. I want to call his parents and tell them they did a great job.
Needless to say, it was a crazy day. After I got home and showered off the mud, lake water, and rain, I collapsed into a shivering, aching, nauseated mess and stayed that way for about two hours. I had been feeling sort of sick all day, and I guess it caught up with me. Or maybe it was the cookie bars.
Now I am going to sit on the couch and gingerly eat oatmeal and drink ginger ale while watching West Wing and icing my neck, shoulder, hips, and knees while Jeremy packs up to head to DC for a week. Grrr again.