The Great Pig Race

I spent the better part of my morning thinking about pig races. Yes, you read correctly, Pig Races.  My English teacher, Mr. Arnold​, used to make a surprise guest appearance during morning announcements every now and again, rattling our auditory senses and imaginative centers with a great Pig Race.

Classrooms would go silent while all the students listened to the commentary, describing the eager contestants.  We'd follow the race in the trails of our minds, down hallway B, past the library, through the gymnasium, swinging past the canteen, running from the Biology teacher.  We'd all cheer as they crossed the finished line at the office and puzzle the pieces all together to determine the winner.  The hook was that the winner wasn't announced until much later in the day... oh the anticipation.  I actually remember common room discussions and debates about the race and who the winner would be.  Some days (okay, many days), I miss school.  Most of all, I miss my mentors like Mr. Arnold.

I giggled all morning reminiscing about the great Pig Races (begging my kids to stop looking at me like that), and realized how prevalent they are in my every day life right now.  Everything is a Pig Race.    All the contestants (kids, career, home, schools, relationships, friendships) are running the race. They each have their own colored bib and numbers in the race.  The pigs run the gammets every day, and everyone seems to have their own crack at being the commentator.   My mind is a well worn track begging for blue ribbons and euphoria.

Truth be told... I love the race.  I love the excitement, I love the wonder of who's on the right track and of course, I struggle with who's running the wrong direction entirely.  I have gratitude for the Pig Race - despite the never ending need to know who won by the end of the day.

That's one happy little pig... I wonder who won?