Haul Buns

Belle of the ball

I like to think that I have good ideas. It’s just that sometimes, I have them far too late. Like just before our wedding, when I decided that instead of a traditional guest book, I wanted to scan photos and mementos from my 11-year relationship with Mr. Haul Buns, artfully arrange them in a custom photo book, and have it printed in a week’s time. (P.S. — That didn’t happen.) Or when I came up with the plan, a week before the Disney Wine and Dine Half Marathon, to run the race dressed as Belle from Beauty and the Beast.

Not so hard, you’re probably thinking. After all, it IS October, Halloween is just around the corner, and with the Interwebs these days, getting a costume at any time of the year isn’t that much of a chore. True, but I didn’t want to be any old tale-as-old-as-time-Belle-in-the-yellow-gown. I’ve done Disney races before, and there are always about a million Snow Whites, Tinkerbells, and yellow Belles. I wanted to be different.  I wanted to be Belle as you first see her on screen, skipping around her small, provincial town in a white-and-blue frock.

Go ahead, sing along. You know you want to.

Before I go any further, let’s address a couple of things:

I’m not a huge fan of running in costume, unless I am in Disney World. Then, all bets are off. I’m also not a huge fan of gnawing on giant turkey legs or waiting in line next to a deodorant-challenged South American tour group for 40 minutes to take part in a two-minute recreation of Peter Pan’s flight — unless I’m somewhere with “Magic” and “Kingdom” in its name. Then, I do these things with a zip-a-dee-do-dah in my heart. It should be noted that Mary, a friend who flew in from Arizona to run with me, had zero desire to do wear anything other than what would keep her going until she crossed the finish line. And that’s a totally respectable POV.

When I do run in costume, I don’t want my costume to look like yours. Sorry, but it’s true. That usually means I have to make it from scratch. Which is a problem, because …

I don’t sew, craft, knit, crochet, weave, embroider or hot glue gun. I’ve been working on a cross-stitched advent calendar for my mom for FOUR YEARS. Bottom line: I’m not skilled in the domestic arts. So for my first costume a few years ago — Pocahontas, which I wore in Disney’s inaugural Princess Half Marathon — I manhandled a khaki crewneck tee shirt until it turned into an asymmetrical buckskin tunic and hoped no one noticed the wildly uneven stitching, which looked like it had been done by a palsied crazy person. Still, from a distance, and with the addition of a necklace and a ribbon bicep tattoo attached to my iPod holder, not too bad methinks.

It definitely says "Princess Kimberly" on my bib.

This year, though, I needed true talent on my team: Enter Momma Buns, crafting queen extraordinaire. I sent her this:

And this: (Don’t be alarmed that my model seems to have lost about 15 lbs. between the front and back views. She’s fine.)

Jason Wu, look out.

If this were one of those awesome, crafty blogs that I love to read (Future Girl, CraftyPod—I’m looking at you), I’d have step-by-step photos and easy-to-follow directions for you to make your very own Belle apron. It’s not. I showed up at Momma Buns’ house on Saturday afternoon, and the apron was ready to go. “In the future,” she said in pretty much the same tone she used when I was in sixth grade and forgot about a science project until the night before it was due, forcing me to stay up all night drawing pictures of bird beaks and her to spend the wee hours scanning stacks of library books for the perfect profile view of a scarlet macaw, “a little more notice would be helpful.”

In my opinion, Momma did a pretty rockin’ job. I added a plastic rose and some blue ribbon to tie back my ponytail, and we got this:

With Mary at the start

Be our sweaty, funky guest

Not too bad, right?

As for the race and the rest of the weekend, I think I shall sum it up in photos:

The rental place gave us a minivan. Mary ruled the back seats with an iron fist.

At the expo, Mr. HB and I re-enacted a scene from Fantasia. Yeah, I'm the hippo.

Our bed at the hotel. As Mr. HB put it, "It looks like a City Sports threw up in there."

My legs, hoisted high at the pool during a mid-afternoon sun session, in a vain attempt to make them feel rested for that evening's run. All it got me was weird looks from Mr. HB ...

... who maybe shouldn't have been so quick to judge. (I kid! I kid!)

Post-race, with my biggest fan/personal cheering section/logistics manager, and our pal, Richard, who took this great shot! Now, let's hit Epcot for the after-party!

Changed and chillin' with Dopey and Snow White after the race. In the cosmetics aisle of an Orlando Walgreen's the night before, Mary and I hatched a hee-larious plan to wear ridiculous Nicky Minaj-type fake eyelashes to the party. One of us carried through with this plan. One did not. I'll let you figure out who's who.

October 18, 2011 at 6:41 pm 4 comments