Yesterday was the Sun Run.  That magical day when 50,000 people gather in their lululemon and running shoes and run 10k through the streets of Vancouver.  I was not one of the lycra clad, but I was the Official Stuff Holder for my friends who were running.  It’s an important task being the Stuff Holder.  I went with my friends to the start of the race, filled my bag with their sweaters and keys and water bottles, wished them luck, took a picture of them like it was their first day of school, and then wandered my way to the finish line to wait.

I entered the stadium, parked myself in a seat in the stands with my assortment of cameras and my notebook, and watched as people started to trickle in.  It was a sea of Richard Simmons; the sweat bands and short shorts all starting to blend into one another.  Shaky-legged people clutching bagels, looking like lost children. 

I have never seen so many adults drinking juice boxes.    

A fit, 40 year old man who had finished the race and was waiting for his coworkers to finish as well, struck up a conversation with me.  He asked if I did the run, to which I laughed.  Apparently, my big earrings, leather jacket and tight jeans gave off the ‘runner’ vibe.  My guess is that he was still slightly delirious after the run and was in need of another juice box.  After talking to him for awhile, I decided that as long as asthma and my knees didn’t violently object, I would do the Sun Run next year.  And while I often feel inspired to do crazy things like take up baseball after watching a League of Their Own, I think I could do the run, and actually do it well.  Baseball on the other hand, wants nothing to do with me. 

As we left the stadium, I realized that the entire place smelled like a mix of clean laundry and sweat.  50,000 clean shirts with 50,000 sweaty people in them.  And on our way to celebratory dim sum, I realized that it wasn’t just the stadium, but the entire city that smelled that way.  It was alternately both pleasant and overwhelming, depending on which way the wind was blowing.