This post is about the wedding and not any of the races.
After Cinco de Muddo, I got home with just enough time to shower, eat, and dress before heading out to the wedding. I was held up by a traffic accident and arrived just in time to stand in back and watch the wedding party enter before the ushers found me an extra seat.
My legs trembled on my simple pumps (basic high heels) and I suffered as the priest gave a long introductory speech before directing the congregants to be seated. I couldn't make it and sat down gingerly, lucky enough to be seated on the far outer edge. I worried whether the groom's family would judge me for it, because my appearance was that of a healthy young woman, but there was nothing I could do. I'm friends with the bride and know she'll be tickled by the whole story when she returns from her honeymoon.
I successfully suffered upright through each subsequent standing portion of the especially long Catholic ceremony given in both English and Spanish in turn. It was the first time I can remember attending a Catholic wedding (though I was a flower girl at one as a toddler), and it was certainly interesting to sit silently by having honestly forgotten the appropriate responses to the readers' and priests' cues after each section. I stopped attending church in college and have identified as atheist for a little over a year. I wondered also what people would think if they saw the "At Gods We Chuckle" bumper sticker on my car.
I struggled as the guests all stood waiting for the wedding party to exit, unsure whether or when we were also permitted to file out. I finally ducked out the side aisle, quickly kicked off my heels, and trotted through the grass and up the long drive to snag the sneakers in my car while the guests availed themselves of the light refreshments provided. So much for formal attire. I had tried. The people who knew me didn't care one whit and were surprised that I was even present after telling them about my two morning races.
The bride was resplendent and reminded me of Giselle from Enchanted in her princess-y gown and flowing red locks. We laughed and ate and dance late into the night. I had asked if I might bring my dance flags and such to use when the dance floor was empty, and two little girls laid claim to them, spinning and leaping more brightly than I could manage. Even so, I was surprised at the energy I had to dance when I did. Later I pulled out my white fan veils and directed the bride through a rushed lesson for the photography, who I'm sure got something lovely from it.
I struggled to tear myself away, knowing I had a long drive ahead of me, but eventually departed after the cake was cut.
Click here for the final chapter.