My Ted is such a . . . . . guy.
I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned (I probably have, but bear with me) Ted was once a teacher, then a counselor, then an assistant principal, then a principal. He retired after 30 years in education, but the school system asked him to come back as an Assistant Superintendent, and he retired from that position 3 1/2 years before I retired as Public Information Director for the same school system. Back in the day before he became a principal, he coached football, basketball, track and cross country. He’s run two half-marathons and about a gazillion shorter races (I know this because he refuses to part with a single one of the t-shirts he acquired at each race). Even now he lifts weights a few times a week, takes the dogs on l-o-n-g walks, bikes everywhere on the island (including up our hill all the way from downtown – something I still can’t do without several stops along the way so my heart can jump back into my chest), and generally keeps himself as fit as possible.
He’s participated in every race held on the island practically since we bought a place here, but he always walks the races – he doesn’t run anymore. But . . . . he is very competitive, and it really ticks him off when people who sign up to walk a race actually run part of it. It messes up his times, and that just naturally messes up his (and my) sense of fairness.
So, when he registered for the Great Turtle 5.7 Race last weekend, he registered as a runner. I was well on my way to having a case of the vapors until he explained that by registering as a runner, he would be able to walk, and if he felt like running a few yards along the way, he could legally do that.
“How many yards?” I asked.
“I won’t push myself.” he said.
We walked over to the finish line. Chris Ann and Burton’s grandchildren are runners, and we knew they would have fast times . . .
Ted told me what his time should be, so Chris Ann, Burton and I chatted as we waited for his arrival. Since I knew he would try to better that time, I started watching the runners come around the last curve about five minutes before his best time. No Ted. As the minutes clicked by on the digital race clock, and his best time passed, there was still no Ted in sight. I waited a full five minutes more before I hauled out my cell phone and called him.
“Where are you, sweetie?” I asked, when he answered.
“Almost there!” he said, not even sounding out of breath. “I pulled a calf muscle at mile 2. Felt it pop.”
“And you’re still in the race?” I asked, my voice a little shrill.
“Yeah – I’m going to finish.”
We stopped at the Pony for lunch, then rode our bikes up the hill. We both napped for most of the afternoon, then called a taxi to have us downtown for dinner at the Chippewa (their last night open). The weekend before Halloween is dedicated to the grown-ups who want to dress up for the holiday, and we missed that weekend last year because we went home early to go to Paula Deen’s party in Savannah.
Instead of putting in a long row of photos, I’ve done something a little different. I’ve made a collage of all the wonderful costumes and inserted it below. If you “click” or “double-click” on the collage, it will open in another window. Then you can “click” on it again, and it will enlarge. That way you can scroll up and down, and back and forth and see each costume close up. I hope this works right on everyone’s computer!
Ted’s leg will take time and rest to heal, and unfortunately the rest part isn’t going to happen this week. We’re packing and cleaning and doing all the boring things that have to be done to close the condo for the winter. The Grand Hotel closes for the season on Tuesday morning, and I’ll try and get downtown after that to show you what town looks like all buttoned up for winter.
Jill and Frankie are leaving for winter homes this week, and with the exodus of the Grand Hotel workers, the year-round residents will finally get their island back.
No blog for Wednesday, but I’ll be back on Thursday with pics of the Grand Closing – including the annual “running of the chairs” (quite a sight to see as employees move all the rocking chairs and other furniture from the long front porch into the great ballroom). See you then!