Yesterday was the much anticipated 30th anniversary of the Bayou City Classic 10k. More to the point, our centipede was going for it's fifth consecutive corporate victory at the event.
The build-up to centipede race is fairly intense; what's our theme, who's going to run, what are we going to wear, what have we forgotten, what will our formation be, etc. Then, in the days immediately prior to the event, things get real chaotic as packets have to be gotten, gear bags for each runner have to be stuffed, and then there's always the last minute run to the store for costume accessories. Though I'll admit, in retrospect it is always a pain, the challenge of making it all come together is part of the fun. Other than myself, Jon, Andy, and Leon are the remaining members of our original centipede; we're the members of the original six who have ran each centipede. True to the veterans that they were, they procured some SWEET additions to this year's centipede; many thanks for their assistance!
So there we were, a forty degree race morning, with stiff breezes whipped up by downtown Houston buildings, 13 centipede members strong, getting roped up and dressed for our run. This year's theme, "Juiced, Steroids in Sports", was perhaps our most tasteless (the Dick Cheney centipede was close, but this one really hits home with Houston). I was a bit fearful that the judges might not "get it", that perhaps they weren't sufficiently into the world of non-running sports to understand the fun we were having at the expense, mainly, of baseball players (we also had a sprinter and bicyclist to give all dirty sports their fare share of attention). My fears were further whipped up when I saw that this year had brought out the best crop of centipedes in recent memory: there were six women dressed in full wedding gowns, about 30 women (and men in drag) in an all female wedding processional, Britney, K-Fed, and the kiddos made an appearance, there was an elaborate zoo-keeper centipede, a German beer brewing centipede, and in keeping with the season, a centipede made up of girl scout cookies! Our competition, so it seemed, would be fierce.
When we took to the street and got lined up, some of my concerns were alleviated; we looked awesome! Leon's dedication to looking like a certain San Fransisco slugger, Andy's addition of balloons under everyone shirts to look like clownishly large muscles, and Jon's attention to detail with signs for the baseball players backs ("That's not a syringe in my pocket, I'm just happy to see you"), made us look as current, controversial, and tasteless as I could have imagined! Too much fanfare, off we went into the cold morning air.
Leon and I had discovered some inexpensive noise makers at a party store that were, well, outlandishly noisy! They were a bit odd in that you blew into a hole in the middle of a tube, and the air forced a soft membrane to vibrate ... LOUDLY! Thanks to the cold air and our slow pace we were able to use these and our other noise makers to raise quite the ruckus when we came to a turn in the course, crossed another centipede, or came to a water stop. I don't doubt that for the past three years we have been the loudest centipede out there, but alas, we never win the award. Regardless, that's a staple of our centipede, make a lot of noise. This centipede might have been the best/most fun at that engagement, as water stations across the course from us would cheer back to us as we made noise while passing them. The other centipedes greeted our cheers with their own, and even the Chevron centipede cheered back at us (I don't think they realized we were booing them; there's only room for one oil and gas centipede in this race!).
The recent baseball steroids scandal really helped us out, as a lot of individuals got involved with us we went. One race photographer asked for a shot of HGH as we ran by, one aide person on a bike said she was going to call the local sports radio station and tell them about us, some of the water stations said they had put some steroids in the water for us, and one guy working the race actually booed us .... when you go for controversy, I guess that's what you get sometimes!
We stopped at each aide station and generally took it very easy while running. In addition, we also walked the last bridge back into downtown so as to rest up for the big finish, and to allow Eugene to prep his vocal cords for the traditional singing of "Eye of the Tiger". Our total time was about 1:25 minutes; not our fastest centipede, but not our slowest, and from a noise/crowd interaction standpoint, the speed helped us have enough energy to act a fool; it was certainly a success.
When I signed up our centipede and told the judge our corporation, he said, "Oh yeah, you guys always have a big centipede." That probably means that the judges try to find us an award each year, but I think we make that easy on them by always bringing a quality centipede to the event. As has become their recent habit, the judges renamed the awards to reflect the centipede receiving it. In the ultimate compliment that they understood the topic our centipede was addressing, our fifth consecutive centipede award was announced as follows: "Receiving the Roger Clemens Centipede award, Juiced!"
So there you go. Award number five in the books, and though I'm certainly not a Roger hater, the name given to our award made it extra sweet! Will there be a number six next year? Our centipede has been shrinking in size for a couple of years, so perhaps this is our last one. If so, we've had a good run and are certainly going out on a current, controversial, and tasteless note; I'd have it no other way!
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