Seattle Travel

December 7, 2012

This has pretty much nothing to do with this post, but it was awesomely foggy while I was in Seattle (on main half marathon day).
This has pretty much nothing to do with this post, but it was awesomely foggy while I was in Seattle (on main half marathon day).

I met these two magical women on my flight to Seattle.

I don’t know how to make this post interesting, but I really felt like I couldn’t not mention them, ’cause for me, it was something to remember.

Cathy, the woman in the middle seat was exactly like my high school theater. Of course we were immediately BFFs.

And Cheryl, Cheryl was some kind of etherial creature. She had the best listening face! She had also been through some major life-chaning health issues. And, did she ever change her life!

She decided to change her career path. She is now in a job she loves helping people. And she was just a genuine sweetheart. They both were.

It was a lovely flight. I’m so often so lucky when it comes to new passenger seat buddy friends. (On the way home from Seattle, I sat next to someone who’d worked with Cory Booker! What?)

(#48) Rock ‘n’ Roll Vegas (December 2, 2012)

December 6, 2012

A night race! (I sang that line in my head. Please, sing it in yours as well.)

My first night half marathon. I was excited to sleep in… And I woke up at 7am. Couldn’t go back to sleep. So much for the benefits of an awesome night race.

I tried live tweeting for the first time with this race, which was incredibly fun for me! (My twitter is @AurorasBlog. If you scroll down to December 2, you can see the live tweeting in all its glory.)

I am generally a pretty late adopter of technology. I’m not huge into social media. Now that the rest of the world already got twitter, then moved on to Instagram, I am loving twitter! Absolutely loving it.

People on and off the race course were tweeting me, which was cool. I’m actually a big proponent of human interaction, and I think as a society we use technology too much. I don’t want to live tweet every race. However, every once in a while, I think it can be fun to use twitter to enhance my interactions with racers around me, and to make some of my twitter followers who aren’t there feel like they’re there in the moment!

I try not to say the same things in too many forums on the internet, ’cause I don’t want to bore any of my amazing super fans who follow me on a bunch of different platforms. (I’m not even close to perfect about it. There are definitely things posted in multiple places, but I try to change it up!) But, in case anyone reads this way after December 2, 2012, and it’s a chore to go that far back in my twitter timeline – let me give you the overview of the race.

Some couple got married and renewed their vows during this race. I saw a sign for a restaurant where you eat free if you’re over 350 pounds! (Sorry the name of the place isn’t on the sign, so I don’t remember the name and can’t tell you if you fit in that category.)

I would love to know how that works – and what kind of business plan that is. Apparently there’s also a liposuction lottery. Let’s grab a bunch of body builders, retrace the course ’til we find this restaurant, and go get the skinny on it!

The wind was insane that night. I almost lost my hat, but I protect it as best I can, and made it to the finish with my hat still on my head!

They gave me a special (extra) bib for this race to make me feel special since I’d run 10 of them. But the Rock ‘n’ Roll bibs are already the biggest ones. Where am I supposed to put a second one?! (I went with my leg.)

Overall, this race is great. There was one section around mile 8/9 where it got dark and quiet. We went through some random streets without any bands. (There was probably some kind of zoning thing preventing bands since we were just going around some houses and I think, a school.)

When I got to the finish, I tried to spy for a gold medal. The Rock ‘n’ Roll Series had a few gold medals hidden within the normal medals, and if you got a golden one, you won $1,000! Alas, there were no gold medals to be found.

caramel PB. Tasti D-Lite. So happy.
caramel PB. Tasti D-Lite. So happy.

I got my little post-half-marathon space blanket from one of the coolest, most fun-loving staff members I’d ever met. Get this! It turned out he’d had Wolff-Parkinson-White as well, and he also had to have open-heart surgery! Is it a small world, or what?

I’d spent so much time tweeting and talking open-heart surgery that I missed the heavy metal booth before they took it down. So, I don’t have my super huge Rock Idol medal yet (that’s pretty much the size of my face). But you will see it when I get it!

This was definitely a fun race, and one I’d do again.

Epiloge: The following day, I went to Tasti D-lite! That’s right. There’s a Tasti D-Lite in Vegas! If you are not familiar with Tasti D-lite, it is an amazing ice-cream like dessert. I am obsessed with it. It used to only exist in New York/New Jersey. It’s branching out, but it’s still not everywhere. However, they do have one just off the Vegas strip and I was ecstatic to go there.

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 35 (The “Skipping Town For A Bit” Chapter)

December 5, 2012

college-road-trip-posterIt’s Wednesday night , so the story continues.

Picking up from last week –

(which was really just a tangent), so more like picking up from two weeks ago –

Multiple professors were encouraging me to take more time off before coming back to school. (I had a doctor’s note for 6 weeks.) And some of my family members were finally putting their foot down.

My family had been very lovely to respect my wishes not to come visit in the hospital. But now that it had been about two weeks since surgery, I started hearing, “You come see us, or we come see you.”

All right. All right! If I’m not gonna be in school, it’ll be super boring just to sit around my apartment. I made an appearance at my family’s house. And I went to see everybody.

The whole seeing everybody thing was really kind of nice. The day after I graduated high school (okay, the day after I graduated, I had a party… but the day after that), I got on a bus and did my best to stay busy enough to never look back!

It was weird (but cool) to see my friends again. Everyone was sort of “Oh, you do exist?” (In a nice, fun way – not in an angry way that I never visited.) I Greyhound bussed around to see some friends at a couple of different colleges.

My mind was absolutely boggled by this incredible completely free time that I had. (Now I’m less cool and have free time all the time as you’ve read over and over in this blog.) But back then, really it was – it just boggled my mind.

Eventually, I made my way back to Boston. I think it was about two or three weeks that I was gone.

In the end, I think I took close to, if not all of, my six weeks allowed in the doctor’s note.

Some of my teachers had had open heart surgery before. They were extremely sympathetic and almost too understanding. I sort of felt as though perhaps I was taking a little advantage of their kindness. Maybe I was. I could’ve gone back to school a little earlier, and I probably could’ve churned out some better work.

Some of my teachers were not nearly as understanding. Some were right in the middle – with probably the perfect amount of patience and understanding. I passed all of my classes that semester – not with a stellar grade point, but passed.

As far as getting back into the world of running, I went to the gym soon after being discharged (I think within a day or two). I was unbelievably frustrated with how hard everything was. I wasn’t even allowed to run at first. Even if I had been able to (ha!), I was only allowed to walk for the first few weeks.

A mile seemed so far. I kept telling myself I’d do the half marathon I’d already signed up for in the first weekend of May. That definitely didn’t happen. I just got more and more frustrated as progress continued to be very slow.

As far as health went, overall, it went pretty exceptionally well. And that’s where I’ll pick up next week.

Rock ‘n’ Roll Las Vegas Expo

December 4, 2012

In my 3D glasses, yo!
In my 3D glasses, yo!

This expo was rad!

The Sony booth had 2 levels. You got to go upstairs and look out over the expo, which was way cool.

And, they had a 3D video of the course you could watch. What?

This was also the first expo where I’d seen the “Deliver Happiness” truck, which I believe is a charity arm of Zappos that sells really “happy” things (shirts and such with happy sayings).

The Deliver Happiness people had taped out a hopscotch play area on the floor leading to their truck. I love when people theme their areas that well!

There were two races here that really made me want to do them – the Utah Valley Marathon and the Phoenix Marathon.

First off, they both sound amazing. (The Phoenix Marathon has a Michael Jackson aid station. I kid you not.)

More than that, they were competing with each other for who could get the most people to sign up! One of the people at the Utah race offered to get me birthday cake at the expo since it happens in June.

The people at the Phoenix race said I could get in the cherry picker at the end and say things on the mic!

They both sounded amazing, but alas, I didn’t sign up for anything.
1) I’m ready to stop spending oh so much money.
2) I still don’t know next year’s plans yet. Those races are definitely on my radar, though.

Deliver Happiness hopscotchAt the Now Energy Bar booth, I got a whole bag chock full of various bars because I didn’t know who Phil Keoghan is. (Sorry Phil Keoghan.) (He’s the host of the Amazing Race, and he, I guess, is the president of the bar company.

Speaking of bars, I got a free PR bar. Yum! I don’t see that bar everywhere, but when I do, it’s delicious.

I also heard about a brand new race in Texas called the Hero-thon where you dress up and wear capes. Keep that on your radar ’cause it sounds cool.

I don’t know if I ever mentioned that at another another expo I got one of the coolest pens I’d ever seen in my life! It’s from the Hot Chocolate Race Series, and you pull on the side, and the schedule comes out of the pen! It’s really amazing.

It came in handy at this expo. I was at a booth for a race. Someone though the race looked like fun, but wondered if it conflicted with the Hot Chocolate race. Guess what? I knew, ’cause I had a schedule built into my pen! Brilliant, Hot Chocolate company. Brilliant.

I’ve been in and out of love with Lifeproof on this blog. It’s a phone case that is drop-proof/waterproof/everything proof. First I loved it. Then my adapter broke and I gave up on it. Then I got another one, and it saved my phone in the pouring rain in Seattle. I loved it all over again once it saved my phone’s life. Guess what? I’m still on the love train.

Vegas expo big viewAt their booth today, they were sweethearts, and they gave me a new adapter! Thank you kindly, Lifeproof.

Lastly from the expo, I don’t know how much I really believe in the gluten-free diet for people who don’t have celiac disease. I don’t know if I believe it has any real health benefits. I’m also not a doctor, nutritionist, scientist, or anybody who knows anything about anything. So, who am I to talk about it really?

Even in my skepticism, I tried an Udi’s Gluten Free cookie. It was actually super delicious.

After the expo, I went to the pasta dinner! A blog reader got me a ticket at his table. How kind, right?

I pretty much ate my weight in pasta, and did a little interview with the news guy who was there taping the shindig. (I saw the news later in my hotel room, and they did give me a little shoutout.)

Lovely night, and now it’s onto the race!

(#47) Amica Insurance Seattle Half Marathon (November 25, 2012) (Seattle Quadzuki Day 4) – Part 2 (Loving Seattle)

December 3, 2012

Picking up from yesterday –

I caught up with a couple the girls and I had been leapfrogging with. I have a caffeine boost, and I’m in it to win it now!

Okay, not at all in it to win it, but in it to catch up with people who’d passed us!

I caught up with Damaris and Laura. We had some lovely conversations, and just enjoyed the gorgeous weather around us.

Eventually, we parted ways.

The Seattle Half Marathon really takes care of its runners. They had plenty of snacks, Gatorade, and water. (I love when there are snacks.) Of course, its possible that everything was so abundant (and that there were snacks) because we were sharing the marathon course, and all of us half marathoners got to start first (by 45 minutes).

I passed a Hostess building. It was odd to think that Hostess will soon be a thing of the past.

Before you knew it, I was coming into the finish!

I couldn’t believe it. (I mean, I could.) It was awesome. All those miles, all those races in one weekend – done. I didn’t know what to expect. I’d never done four races in a weekend before. But it really wasn’t hard. I think my fitness level keep secretly improving little by little without me noticing.

I crossed the finish line and got my medal from Army soldiers. Then I walked across the field to go into the indoor post-race finisher area.

Race announcers are always shouting encouraging things over the loudspeaker. He happened to say, “You did it!” as I was walking out of the race it area. It was almost like the timing would be in a movie.

Medium shot of Aurora as she’s walking triumphantly out of the stadium as in the background we hear “You did it!” She looks straight ahead knowingly with a half smile as if to tell us “Yeah, I did.”

This finisher area was wonderful. Chocolate milk. Yum. Bagel. Yippee.

They even had soup and hot chocolate! I didn’t have any of either of those, but it was cool that they existed for those who wanted them.

They even had a goodie bag with deodorant in it! And not cheap deodorant – the great kind. Clinical protection. Don’t mind if I do, thank you very much!

I also thought it was smart of Seattle to have their finisher area indoors! You never know what the weather will be like. It might’ve been cold or rainy (it wasn’t), but using an indoor area makes it lovely and comfy no matter what the weather.

I went to Bastyr University’s area where they were stretching people out. Tom was unbelievably helpful. This was totally exactly what I needed.

Eventually, I made my way back to the car, met some Seattle friends for delicious cheeseburgers, and called it a day.

Would I ever do four races in a weekend again? Definitely. Would I ever do the Seattle Quadzuki again? I cannot imagine a scenario in which that would happen. I loved races 1, 3, and 4. I can’t stand trails though and don’t ever want to set foot in race 2 again. Ever.

Considering I did live, and didn’t even have any injuries, I’m glad I had this experience. And I do love Seattle. My gosh, it was gorgeous out here this week. Absolutely lovely. And huge, huge thanks to my amazing friend Helen who let me stay in an empty condo for free this weekend. I couldn’t have asked for any better housing situation. And huge thanks to Rich for suggesting carpooling and driving me to day 2’s race. I was extremely happy to not have to drive home after being traumatized! 🙂

(#47) Amica Insurance Seattle Half Marathon (Seattle Quadzuki Day 4) (November 25, 2012) – Part 1 (Beautiful Weather, Beautiful Start)

December 2, 2012

Boom, baby! Four in one weekend! It happened!

This was a really lovely race. I was slightly nervous the night before. I set a couple of alarms, and put them out of arms reach so I’d have to physically get up and couldn’t just hit the snooze button. This was the first time I’d done four races in one weekend. I wasn’t about to let anything happen to the last race!

This was the “real” race of the bunch – the official Seattle Half Marathon. It was right in the heart of Seattle (started and ended very close to the space needle). (Side note: The space needle had huge tree-shaped lights on top of it and it looked really cool coming into the city before the sun came up.)

This is the first time I’ve driven myself to a large race in a big city. I left myself plenty of extra time in case of traffic or difficulty finding parking. As I drove around looking for parking, I couldn’t help think, “Where is my dad? He’s the driver in these scenarios!” Not today.

Surprisingly, I found a parking space across the street from the start line. I thought about trying to find a cheaper but farther space, then gave up on that idea because I’d already been driving for a while and I get lost everywhere I go. And you know if you leave the lot across from the start line, when you come back it’s going to be full.

Since I’d left myself so much extra time, I had plenty of time to sit in my car and just chill out, put my bib on, talk to my dad – all that jazz.

One thing I didn’t understand about this race is why the half marathoners started first. I’m sure there’s some reasoning behind it – perhaps having to do with when the winners come in, or who knows. Of course from a layman’s perspective who’s not running the race – (okay, someone who is running as an athlete (and I use that term quite loosely), but not running as in “running the show”) it seemed a bit odd.

Wouldn’t you want your lead marathoners out in front so they never even see the slowest half marathoners? (In the scenario as is, the marathoners passed all of us slow pokes. As much as we all tried to stay to one side, I couldn’t ever help but feel we were in their way.)

But what do I know? And that’s not said in any sarcastic way whatsoever. In all seriousness, what do I know? Nothing about those big decisions. I’ve never been a race director. It’s a long-standing race. I’m sure they have their reasons.

The weather was absolutely perfect. If I could’ve picked my own weather, that’s exactly what I would’ve picked. Not too cold, but definitely not too hot. Not so foggy we couldn’t see, but the sun never felt like it was beating down on us.

Beautiful, beautiful weather with air that felt amazing.

I walked a number of miles with two lovely women (one of whom was doing her first half). They wanted to stop for Starbucks around mile 6ish, I think it was. (I don’t really remember what mile. Somewhere.) There was a Starbucks right along the course, and I never turn down Starbucks (especially when someone else says it’s on them)!

I walked with them for another few miles until we’d pretty much exchanged life stories. Then I left them alone to have their fun best friend time together.

This is where I’ll pick up tomorrow.

Amica Insurance Seattle Half Marathon Expo

December 1, 2012

Awesome mugs from the Seattle half marathonBoom, first amazing things – these mugs!

These are the coolest mugs I’ve ever seen. (On the back, they have your distance – 26.2 or 13.1) And they were only five dollars! What?

I don’t usually make purchases at expos, ’cause golly, I’d be poor by now, right? I totally splurged today, though. I bought a mug – an amazing mug that I’ve taken home and use all the time. (I don’t know that I’ve ever owned a mug before. Yay!)

Speaking of splurging, let’s get it all out of the way now. I also paid for a massage. I justified it to myself ’cause it was only 15 minutes. It wasn’t too terribly expensive, and I had done 39.3 miles in the week thus far. It was a good, helpful massage.

Lastly on the money front (yes indeed, I did spend even more money), I registered for Rock ‘n’ Roll Arizona. I wasn’t positive if I was going to tack on a “celebration race” at the end of my 52 half marathons in 52 weeks. But let’s get real. I knew I wanted to do it. End where I started. End with a Rock ‘n’ Roll race. (It’s cheaper to register for them at expos.) A lot of it makes a lot of sense to me.

(The only reason I was hemming and hawing about it is because the best part of last year’s race was hanging out with my truly incredible friend, Taylor. Now, she lives in Georgia. She’s actually planning on coming down to the Disney World marathon to cheer me on! Then I was kind of of the mindset of “start with Taylor, end with Taylor?” “Disney’s gonna be a freaking huge event. I don’t know if it’s super necessary to go out with another bang.”

Nonetheless, I took the plunge and registered for the race. I like the Rock ‘n’ Roll series, and I have all of the other North American heavy medals besides the Double Down. So, why not, right?)

I also got these $2 “throw-away” gloves at one booth. (I put throw-away in parenthesis, ’cause they seem like fine gloves to me that I don’t plan on tossing aside.) The booth said all the glove money went to charity (bonus). I need constant reminders that places get cold. Even though I was in Seattle, it would’ve never crossed my mind to prepare for the cold if it hadn’t been for the booth. (Sorry I don’t remember name of said booth, but thank you.)

sparkling ice mascot
Cute Sparkling Ice mascot

Besides the fact that I apparently spent a billion dollars at the expo, I met Aimee and Shane with Vibrance Nutrition and Fitness that had a sign saying “Drinking chocolate milk after Sunday’s race is like putting cheap gas in your Ferrari!!”

This was a big shock, considering how much chocolate milk is touted as the most awesome thing ever at practically every race I ever run. I haven’t looked into Vibrance Nutrition, but I am a little interested in hearing more about their philosophy.

However, if there’s one thing I think we’ve all gathered from my blog throughout the year, it’s that I don’t really know anything about nutrition and I’m horrible at learning about ’cause lots of people say lots of different things and I’ll never know how to sort that all out.

Speaking of food and drink, I tried this Sparkling Ice flavored water. I’m not big on flavored water. I love water. It doesn’t need any extra flavor to me.

(Granted, I don’t really have a sense of smell, which greatly affects my sense of taste. Maybe that’s why I don’t care about water tasting differently. Everything is more about texture to me than taste.)

The Sparkling Ice booth was a really fun booth, with a really energetic, cute mascot. I tried the water, and it was actually pretty good. It was a little carbonate-y, which was a little shock party to my mouth. Still good, though.

One other fun little cute thing they had – in expos, there’s often an area where you go over a timing mat to make sure your chip is working correctly and is assigned to the right person. At this one, you got a little encouraging message on the screen next to your name!

“Enjoy the sights!” “Set a PR!” “is carbo loading tonight!” Cute stuff.

30th Anniversary of Thriller

November 30, 2012

Best music video of all time.
Best music video of all time.

This post sort of goes against something I believe in.

I don’t super believe in elevating people on their birthdays or anniversaries, but instead spreading that love out all year. Arbitrary days don’t make anyone more or less special than they were on a day that wasn’t that day.

(I am still a human in America who likes to be loved, though, so I do celebrate that kind of stuff… I don’t know precisely how much I do or don’t believe in all the jazz…)

Anniversaries are more worthy of celebration than birthdays (in my opinion). They’re not as arbitrary. Michael Jackson did some amazing, phenomenal work. It deserves to be celebrated.

(But hopefully his work is appreciated on more than just today, and I’m sorry that I’m bringing it up today instead of a day when the whole world isn’t singing his praises.)

But the reason I am bringing it up is that for it just hit me kind of hard today.

I’ll go ahead and admit I have a somewhat unhealthy love of Michael Jackson (as I’m sure you’ve seen on this blog).

I think that adoring him, and trying to learn from him, and using him as a role model is healthy. Crying over his death (even years later) harder than some people cry for people they actually know? That’s the possibly unhealthy part. But it’s probably okay.

Here’s the great thing about Michael Jackson. He was so much more than just a man.

He was hope where there was no hope. He was a fighter. He fought for people who couldn’t fight for themselves. He encouraged us to raise our voices and fight for what we believed in.

He had so many amazing lessons that he couched in catchy pop music so we could all easily take them in.

My gosh, listen to any of the lyrics in “Why You Wanna Trip on Me?”

When I listen to Earth Song, I go full on nuts as I sing those “What about us?!” lines.

If ever I am down, if ever I am overwhelmed, if ever I question fighting for something because the uphill battle seems so hard – I can turn to Michael Jackson’s music. He may be gone, but his encouraging messages last on forever.

Even though I never met him – and unfortunately, I never will – I want to live a life that I’d be proud to tell him about if I were to meet him. He inspires me to be better. (And I have a long way to go!)

(Photo Credit: Getty Images)
(Photo Credit: Getty Images)

As far as Thriller specifically, I think Bad was better than Thriller. I think Dangerous was better than Bad. Those aren’t necessarily popular opinions, but they’re mine.

You can always be better, even when you’re at the top of your game and no one else is even close – you can always be better. And you should be. Even if you’re the only one pushing you. That’s the lesson I like to take away from him topping himself twice when no one thought he could top Thriller.

I said earlier this year that I was finally able to listen to Michael Jackson without having a breakdown.

I just wanted to let you know, lest you think I’m a stable human being (or a callous one), or one who’s forgotten the genius of Michael Jackson – I’m not. I haven’t. And I never could.

Something about today, something about everyone talking about him, something about re-seeing the magazine covers that came out after he died, I was transported back to that mindset. I sobbed as I listen to him sing “Smile.” ‘Cause he’s Michael Jackson. And we’ll never get him back.

But we’ll always have his influence, his lessons, his music to keep us going, to keep us inspired, and to keep us pushing to better.

I will always be so very grateful to him. And I’ll never be able to thank him. At this point, the best way I know how, is to listen to what he said. Start with the man in the mirror. Try to make the world a better place.

I’m no Michael Jackson. But I’m a better me because of him.

(#46) Ghost of Seattle Half Marathon (Seattle Quadzuki Day 3) (November 24, 2012)

November 29, 2012

Today was an 8 o’clock start, so it was a nice chill morning.

As I was falling asleep the night before, it dawned on my that the race starts so late in the day, I could actually get Starbucks ahead of time. Cool. There are only, I don’t know, a billion of them in Seattle. It shouldn’t be hard to find one.

(That sounds like an intro to some crazy story where I couldn’t find a Starbucks in the morning, but fear not. I saw a bunch.)

I grabbed a drink heavy on the caramel (yum), and headed out for a nice thirteen-mile stroll in gorgeous Seattle.

I traveled around a walking path. Eventually, I finished the Starbucks and pitched it. Not long after, I came upon a couple who’d done the turnaround, carrying Starbucks in their hands. I smiled and said, “Good idea.” The girl looked at me embarrassed as though she couldn’t believe she stopped for coffee in a race. I wanted to turn around and say, “I did it too! You don’t know ‘cause I just got rid of my cup. I wasn’t being sarcastic!”

It was too late. We’d already gone our separate ways. Well, hopefully she enjoyed her deliciousness.

One thing that was fun today was that I saw little markers where the Seattle Marathon was planning to put their mile markers the next day. For some reason, I thought that was so cool. (Can you imagine how awful it’d be if someone just walked around, taking them out? Hopefully no one would ever do that. I just didn’t realize the miles were already marked the morning before the race…)

After yesterday’s brush with death, I was a little more on edge than normal about dogs. Anytime I saw or heard any, I went into “I’m having a heart-attack” mode much quicker than I usually do. But, there weren’t any close calls today. Everything is cool.

At the finish, not only did we have the best medals thus far of the four races, but we also had tons of free food! Not just bars, but bagels – with cream cheese. I kid you not. That’s not even the best part. I’m building to it. Hot dogs! That’s right, honest to goodness hot dogs! Hot food. You could put cheese, ketchup, mustard or all of it on there!

I know I have some vegan readers out there. Check this out, they had faux hot dogs for vegans! How great was this race? Super great, that’s how great.

I wouldn’t mind doing this one or Thursday’s again. Seattle’s beautiful. The air feels clean. These races have generous time limits, and they’re a great excuse to get moving during a long holiday weekend when people can get wrapped up in gorging on more food than we even want.

The people here were lovely. That atmosphere was great. The weather was pretty perfect (not too sunny, not too cold). Low key run, but beautiful and fun.

Three races down for the long weekend. Only one to go!

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 34 (The “Surprisingly Lonely Coming Home” Chapter)

November 28, 2012

Alone in a CrowdIt’s Wednesday night , so the story continues.

Picking up from last week –

Now that I’m out of the hospital in the story, let me take a post to take a tangent. (Shocking, I know… since I take them, hmmm, all the time.)

In my experience, here was the weirdest part of being sick – everybody was up my bum while I was in the hospital.

Psst, that’s when I don’t really need you.

I’ve touched on this idea before as part of the reason I didn’t want visitors. But it also goes with people who call, text, email, send carrier pigeons, whatever.

I appreciate the love. I love love. But the weirdest part about it all was the silence that followed. Everyone cares sooo much – until you are safely out of surgery. Once you’re discharged, everyone thinks you’re fine, and they leave you on your merry way.

I will go ahead and preface my remarks in this chapter by saying, yes, I did keep pushing people away. I asked them to stop paying so much attention to me. Perhaps people finally started listening to me. Perhaps it’s my own fault for not being a good acceptor of love. I will definitely shoulder some (maybe all) of the blame for this.

(I’ll also say that I had one or two people who continued to check in on me for um… forever. So, I wasn’t completely abandoned.)

However, it mostly went from an unbelievable amount of chatter regarding my health problem to silence after I got home. I do think that often in our society, people shower patients with love and affection while they’re in the hospital, then kind of forget(ish) about them afterward.

I completely understand that people are busy and they can’t (and shouldn’t) worry about you forever. And I think my stance on this has been made clear before – but to me, the hospital is the last place you need love!

Some people obviously feel differently. But for me, it was so weird to have everyone I’d ever met, who heard the news one way or another that I was sick, come out of the woodwork with an unending amount of compassion – just to disappear.

Returning home from the hospital is already lonely! You’re used to having a built in network of doctors, nurses, volunteers, fellow patients, and some visitors (whether they be yours or other patient’s visitors fanning out). You have a crazy number of people talking to you every day.

You don’t have that in your home. You don’t constantly have people walking in and out and around the hallway in your home. You don’t have people waking you up at 3am to draw your blood in your home. Where is all the buzzing around of the hundreds of new friends in your life?

By virtue of going home, poof! They are gone. They have to move on to helping other people who need it.

When your physical army of people and your virtual army of people all disappear at the same time, it’s extremely jarring, and really kind of lonely.

No one’s offering to come to your house to play Monopoly with you, as they did when you were in the hospital.

But this is the time you need it most! This is the time you’re in the most pain. (I don’t have a morphine drip in my apartment.) This is the time you are the most bored. (Most people can’t go back to work immediately. What are they to do with their time?)

Humans are weird! I will never understand why we offer so much support to someone in the most supportive environment on the planet, just to take it out from under them right as their other super support system collapses.

After the patient’s been lifted to the clouds, until (poof)! They’re hurtling toward the ground, involuntarily skydiving once every support structure collapsed at once.

So weird.

And I never even knew that was a thing until I was sick.

Patients come home and are dealing with pain, life adjustment, money/debt/bills, boredom, frustration at not getting back to their normal activities, possible problems at work or school – and who knows what else. That’s when they need us the most.

At least, that was my experience. I will certainly remember it when trying to support any sick friends in the future.

(I’d also like to say that I love and appreciate my friends. No one is perfect. (Most of my lovely friends are far closer to perfect than I am!) This is not a post to complain about them, just to shine a light on patient interaction that I wasn’t aware of before I got sick.)

The story continues next week.

(#45) Half-Bone Half Marathon (Seattle Quadzuki Day 2) – Part 5 (My Carpool Buddy Got Injured In During This Harrowing Race)

November 27, 2012

Picking up from yesterday –

A quick note just to say how thankful I am that someone actually came out of their house to help me. In our cynical world, it’s easy to ignore people in need, but I felt taken care of in that neighborhood.

Eventually, I started breathing again, made my way back to the beginning of the trail, which also happened to be the finish line. I. survived.(!) I collected my medal and was all done with that biznatch.

Turns out, I was not the only one who narrowly escaped death. Everyone was getting lost out there. People were wading through standing pools of water and mud.

A couple of people that I’d met at the previous day’s race were kind enough to carpool with me. There was a sweet volunteer named Rich who talked to me at Widdle Wattle, and offered to let me jump in on the carpooling with him and Rick (a runner) the next day.

Well, when I ran into Rick at the finish of this race – he had blood pouring down his forehead! He’d tripped, fallen, and gashed his head wide open… when he wasn’t near any aid stops. There were loops in the (narrow) trail, and if you got hurt miles from an aid station, well, walk the rest of your loop ‘til you find help.

So, he walked for, I guess, from what I heard, more than a mile after breaking open his head.

We both ended up finishing… by the skin of our teeth! As nice as everyone was here, let’s get out and never return.

(#45) Half-Bone Half Marathon (Seattle Quadzuki Day 2) – Part 4 (I Almost Died! (Part 2))

November 26, 2012

Straight up "Bye Bye Bye" style. Except scarier.
Straight up “Bye Bye Bye” style. Except scarier.

Continuing from yesterday (if you haven’t read that one, go read it first) –

I’m about to die. I turn the corner and hear silence. I want to peek around and see what the heck is going on, but I’m obviously too petrified to do that.

I ring the woman’s doorbell so I can get another human involved. By this point, I’m absolutely hysterical, crying and shaking, looking generally crazy I’m sure. I’m kind of surprised she was okay coming to the door with such a weirdo on her front porch.

Chris was her name, and she’s the kind of person I’d want to be around in any sort of disaster/dangerous situation. She was all business, the first thing out of her mouth being the important questions. “Is anyone else in danger? Are we safe here right now? What’s happening?”

I’m trying to communicate in sniffs, tears, head turns, and hand gestures. I get across the information that no one else is around as far as I know, and that I think we’re safe now.

She went around the corner to check and the dogs were gone. How weird, right? One moment they’re here, the next moment their gone. How did they get quiet so quickly? Where did they go?

I know they were not a figment of my imagination. Know how I know that?

Chris said she was on her way out of the house because she heard so much barking. She’s a dog rescuer, and she wanted to make sure the dogs were okay. That’s right. She said she wanted to make sure the dogs were okay.

Even though I am making fun of that point a little, I will say she was extremely kind to me. She said, “You’re soaking wet!” I’m all “Yes, I know. I’m in a half marathon. And I – (cry, cry, cry still). She gets a blanket out, puts it around me, and says, “Come inside. Let’s call your parents.” Adorable, right?

You may not have heard the way I said that sentence, but I’m (again) gently making fun of something she said. However, it’s actually not all that crazy of an idea to call my parents. I do generally call my dad whenever anything exceptionally bad (or good) happens, ‘cause you know, he is my dad. Unfortunately, he was thousands of miles away, and I’m kind of a grown-up, I guess, or something lame like that. So, even though he’s my daddy, he couldn’t protect me in this case.

Anyway, as Chris went inside to get the blanket, a man from across the street came out to check on me since I had been screaming loudly enough that I’m sure people in Portland heard me out in Seattle.

I was taking breaths between every word, ‘cause you know, I was traumatized!

“What happened? What’s wrong?” There (breath) were (breath) these (breath) two (breath) huge (big breath) dogs (breath) and –

He seemed so relieved when I said the word “dogs,” as if he was afraid I was going to say “murderer” or something. Well, let me tell you, I could’ve just as easily been murdered by these dogs as I could’ve been by any human!

Truthfully, I would much rather be chased by a murderer than a dog. I mean that sincerely. With a dog, they will catch up to you. And they cannot be reasoned with. With a murderer, he or she is just another person. Conceivably, you could outrun them. Conceivably, you might outsmart them. You might be able to reason with them if they actually do catch you. (I’ve watched a lot of Criminal Minds, therefore I’m obviously pretty trained to deal with psychopaths).

Thankfully, I never saw the dogs again. I’ll wrap up the rest of the race tomorrow.

(#45) Half-Bone Half Marathon (Seattle Quadzuki Day 2) – Part 3 (I Almost Died! (Part1))

November 25, 2012

Stock rain photo Photo Credit: Anthony Redpath
Stock rain photo Photo Credit: Anthony Redpath

Picking up from yesterday –

Finally! The part of the story where I almost died. Oh my gosh. How can I even settle down enough to write words on this blog? I almost died today! That’s not even the worst part! I almost died in the worst possible way. (Okay, one of the worst possible ways.)

I’m drenched, absolutely completely drenched in water, holding a heavy sweatshirt that’s drenched. I’m walking along the road with only two streets ‘til I hit the neighborhood where we started. I’m so very close to being finished.

If you’re not sitting down, do it now. This is the part where our hearts are gonna stop.

I hear a person say, “No. Stop.” They are saying these words in the manner that you’d say them to an animal. That’s right, an animal, such as, oh, I don’t know. A dog, perhaps? I look over, and there are these two huge dogs at the edge of this person’s driveway. They’re looking right at me and starting to come toward me.

The owner is not in my sight!

Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Please don’t. ‘Cause this is super scary. This isn’t a huge marathon or really busy street where I’m gonna be saved by a stranger or ambulances standing by, or something. This is just a quiet neighborhood with no support. There’s no medical staff here, no spectators, nobody to save me.

I freeze in terror for probably a tenth of a second as thoughts rush through my head. “Is the owner going to be able to get control of these dogs? Which way is the best way to run? Should I somehow try to actually go toward them to be close to the owner – the only other sign of human life out here right now? Am I even supposed to run at all? Is it safer to stay still?”

The dogs start picking up their speed. I’m outta there! I take off – like an Olympian. I am telling you. My strides were long and gorgeous. I ran faster than anybody has ever ran, ever. All the while, I am screaming – absolutely, desperately, top-of-my lungs, tears in my voice – “HELP ME!!!!! HELP. ME!”

I start running toward the neighborhood. I just want to see another human. Maybe, just maybe I can be let in a house quickly enough to slam the door before the dogs get in. That’s probably not going to happen. But, perhaps I can ring a doorbell right before I start being mauled to death. Maybe that person can call an ambulance in time to save me. Or maybe they can make some kind of big distraction, scaring the dogs away. I’m pretty sure finding a person is my best bet at survival.

I turn toward this neighborhood – and I see a huge gate! That’s right. I’m running toward a gated neighborhood. Except, good news. There’s a gate in the road with nothing on either side of it. No walls to climb. I just have to run around by the gate. Of course it may have been better if there actually was a wall so I could try to leave the dogs behind, but I’m not positive I could’ve jumped over one. I’m pretty short…

So, I’m running by the gate. I see the first house. I see one of the dogs bounding behind me out of the corner of my eye. They’re getting so close. I’m already imagining what it’s gonna feel like when they knock me to the ground. I imagine the paw laying on my shoulder (they are as tall as me on their hind legs, ‘cause they’re freaking huge!), and knocking me down. I tell myself that when that happens, no matter what, just stay face down. Don’t let them get at all those important things in the front of your body (your face (the moneymaker, of course), your heart (kinda need that)).

And when they knock you down, cover your neck with your arms to try and protect your carotid artery. They can tear your arms to shreds, but if they get your neck, you are gonna bleed out. Quickly.

As I’m making my plans for how best to escape death while being attacked, I’m still running. (The plans are being formed at warp speed in my head.) In the first house, I consider climbing on top the car in the driveway. But I figure, these dogs have really long legs. They’re gonna be able to jump on the car. I’m just going for the doorbell.

As I turn the corner onto this person’s porch – silence. The incredibly loud, bone-chilling barking has stopped. What happened? This is where I’ll pick up tomorrow.

(Spoiler: I still don’t know exactly what happened…)

(#45) Half-Bone Half Marathon (Seattle Quadzuki Day 2) – Part 2 (Acting Through The Beginning Of My Own Personal Hunger Games)

November 24, 2012

Branches (and their thorns) sticking into my pants.

Picking up from yesterday –

I leave the trail and go onto the road.

I start daydreaming about how this is sort of like the hunger games, with all the obstacles of rain, cold, trails, and things. No one’s trying to kill anyone (but it does feel like we’re all going to die).

I start thinking about how I always imagine I’d be rad in crazy competitions, ’cause I like to think I’m somewhat creative and can try to find things people might not think about. Then I think about how horrendous I’d be because I’d never know where I am! How could I ever escape anyone when I have no idea where anything is?

None of this matters because hopefully I’ll never be in a hunger games situation. But you just never know. I was here!

About 6 miles in, my sweatshirt is really heavy. I start asking myself if it’s better to keep it on or take it off. If you take it off, you get to take off all that sopping wet weight, but then you have to carry it! Also, everything else you’re wearing is just gonna get wetter.

I do take it off, and start carrying it.

Random thorny branches are grabbing me here and there (and I’m thankful for the pants choice I knew today. I knew I wanted long, tight pants to give my legs the least possible chance of coming into contact with any nature).

I fell a little out of love with my Lifeproof phone case after those rush of posts where I gushed about it. My first adapter stopped working, blah blah.

However, I gave it another chance ’cause I feel like I do desperately need a phone that can withstand everything, as today proved it.

About 9 or 10 miles in, there were no dry spots left anywhere on me – nowhere to try to dry off my hands, and certainly nowhere to try and keep a phone safe.

As the race got colder and wetter, I did what I usually do in tough workout situations – I just started acting.

You know how it is when you’re acting – nothing gets in the way of your acting. Outside bothers, temperatures, sopping clothes – none of it exists. You just deal with elements around you as you rock your part like no one ever has.

So if I’m ever in a tough situation, I just start acting since I know in that state, nothing’s allowed to bother my “performance.”

I put on some sweet jams. I acted like I was in a music video for Maroon 5’s “One More Night.”

You want it angry? Longing? Sexy? I gave all those takes and more. (I had to do something in the rain!)

I also rocked out to Mariah Carey’s “Through the Rain.” A little literal, perhaps. Still fun to pretend there was a music video where I had to triumphantly walk through the rain.

Eventually, I was closing in on 13.1 miles.

This is where I almost died! I will pick up here tomorrow, ’cause that story is getting its own post(s).

(#45) Half-Bone Half Marathon (Seattle Quadzuki Day 2) – Part 1 (Rainy, Muddy, and Getting Lost)

November 23, 2012

Photo Credit: Robin Canell

I wanted to start the story like normal, not jumping straight to the crazy part, but I have to open by telling you that something terrifying happened today. Terrifying!

That part comes a bit later… (But I promise we will get there.)

The beginning of the day was wet and cold. I own one thing to wear cold weather – a sweatshirt that I bought in New Orleans earlier this year. No gloves, no coat, no nothing else. (I live in Los Angeles.)

People had warned me it’d be cold out here. I’m all, “Yeah, I’m covered. I own a sweatshirt.”

As someone who’s happily lived in Boston, Massachusetts (during lovely winters), you’d think I’d remember what actual cold is like. I didn’t. Until I got here.

A cotton sweatshirt is not the thing to wear in Seattle rain. More on that soon, but that was only the tiniest of problems…

When the day began, I posted this status on Facebook:

“Rainy. Cold. TRAIL. Stories of animals people have seen on this trail. Bears, deer, dogs. Oh my.
We are all gonna die here to today. :-p”

Okay, well hardy, har, har… unless you ACTUALLY die there that day. Well, I almost did die. Just wait for it. (And prepare yourself to be terrified, my friends! (Terrified!))

So, we start off on the trail. It’s a trail. If you know me/have read the blog, you know I don’t like trails very much. For the chance to try four half marathons in one weekend, I was willing to go out on a terrain I don’t care for.

Plugging along, small paths. Getting muddy. Hard to let people pass since some paths are very tight.

Even though it can get a wee bit crowded, we’ve spread out in the back, and at this point I’m alone. I just keep following the path until, of course, I get lost. I come out to the road. Huh. Don’t think I’m supposed to be here. I look along the beautiful road. I think “Huh. Maybe I’ll just work my way back around to the front by looping out here. I have my running app. I can watch the miles. This is a tiny race where they won’t really care… No, no, no. I’ll suffer through the path that’s meant for us.

So, I start back. I start going the way I think I should be based on the runners I see in the distance. After a while, some walkers are walking straight toward me. Uh oh. “Are we supposed to be crossing paths like this, or am I going the wrong way?”

“Sorry, you’re going the wrong way.” Uuuuugh. I turn around again to go with them. We make it out to another opening in the road!

They turn around. “Sorry. It was us. We were going the wrong way.”

We are never going to make it out of here!

At this point I sort of take it as a sign. The road is calling to me. The trail is getting dangerous. Okay, well, I’ll just go this way. (Otherwise, I am never ever going to find my way back to the trail.)

This is where I’ll pick up tomorrow.

(#44) Wittle Waddle (Seattle Quadzuki Day 1)

November 22, 2012

Everyone here was so nice.

I don’t have a ton to say about the day, but that was my big takeaway. I don’t know if it’s people who live in Seattle, or runners in general, or the running community of Seattle; but each person I met was a total sweetheart.

This race was super chill. We didn’t even start until 9am. Usually, I don’t think starts that late are the best ideas. However, it wasn’t hot at all. I wore a sweatshirt through the whole thing. It was a bit chilly, but the air was really nice. (I’d much rather be a bit chilly than in sweltering heat (cough, cough – Los Angeles).)

We started with a big random hill, then we just went on a pretty flat walking/bike path starting in Gas Works park. I walked the whole way, taking it easy since I had 52.4 miles ahead of me this weekend.

I had phone conversations with my sister and my dad. I listened to some tunes. I listened to some thoughts. When I was coming back, I saw the space needle in the distance, which I thought was cool. “Yep. I’m in Seattle. Awesome.”

I’d heard that last year some people got lost. Surprisingly, I did not get lost! I know I get lost everywhere when left to my own devices. Not here. Boom!

They had delicious chicken noodle soup at the end – and the loveliest volunteers ladling it out for us.

We also got a pretty rad wintery hat. That was a fun, different thing.

Basically, it was a chill, lovely race. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 33 (The “Back to School After Open Heart Surgery” Chapter)

November 21, 2012

I spent over 100 hours on my Michael Jackson soundalike project. I cannot tell you how many times I heard "Billie Jean." But I think it's impossible for me to tire of him...
I spent over 100 hours on my Michael Jackson soundalike project. I cannot tell you how many times I heard “Billie Jean.” But I think it’s impossible for me to tire of him…

It’s Wednesday night , so the story continues.

Picking up from last week –

I went into the studio for my project the night I got out of the hospital. My friend Logan was kind enough to come lay down some guitar tracks, and my friend Kelly was nice enough to come engineer.

(I don’t remember exactly what times we were there, but we were some time in the midnight to 6am block. So, it was a huge favor they were doing me.)

I don’t remember why these weren’t recorded before I went in – lack of studio time, or something needing to be re-done or what. But the point is, I needed them and we got them done immediately.

I was still having troubles sitting up. It was pretty super painful. So, I ran the session while lying on the ground the whole time. How anybody put up with me, I don’t know.  But I’m so glad they did.

And a note about that lying flat thing – to this day, I don’t use pillows anymore. And I often have to take eating breaks during meals. I don’t know what those things are about, but they started after open heart surgery, and I never shook them… That makes me a little weird, doesn’t it?

Back to 2010, I spent basically all my free time around that time working on my soundalike project. I actually became an infinitely better producer/engineer after getting sick than I would’ve ever otherwise. (I’m still not great at that stuff, but better than I was to say the least.) So, repeating the semester wasn’t necessarily the worst thing.

I started going back to class immediately. I think the first week I only went to half or so, and was working my way up. (I had a doctor’s note to be out for six weeks, so I didn’t have to worry too much about going or not going….)

(Though it was awkward if you’d go to one teacher’s class then decide to nap through the next one. (Granted, it’s not that awkward. A number of college students do that when they’re not on painkillers coming back from open-heart surgery.))

Even though I was a good student who sat quietly and didn’t bring attention to herself, some of the teachers I was closest to who looked out for me the most encouraged me to just stop coming to classes altogether and continue resting at home. (I think the whole sitting quietly, not bringing attention to myself thing is what made people worried. ;))

Just going home to rest was sort of a boring idea. But I think having a recovering patient around the halls made people nervous. Oh my gosh! Speaking of recovering patient – I think this was the moment I realized they might be right and I maybe didn’t want to be around the school in my state.

So, I went to one of my teacher’s office hours after school the week after I’d gotten out of the hospital. He had office hours on the later side of things. There weren’t tons of people around, but some.

I was lying in the hallway (’cause sitting up was hard) waiting for my turn to go in, when a DOG comes down the hallway!

That’s right. A dog. In a school hallway!

It did not really look this scary at all. I think it was more of a fluffy dog... But in my head, they all look like this...(Photo Credit: Josh Plueger for U.S. Air Force)
It did not really look this scary at all. I think it was more of a fluffy dog… But in my head, they all look like this…
(Photo Credit: Josh Plueger for U.S. Air Force)

I immediately got up to get away, and of course felt a good amount of pain in the process moving so quickly and moving around my precious sternum and stomach that were oh so fragile.

The pain made me a little short-tempered, and I yelled at the girl for letting her dog just roam the halls of a school with no leash or anything. I mean, honestly, what is wrong with this girl?

She was mad that I was mad and we got into a short screaming match with each other.

The teacher I was waiting to see was Stephen (whom I trust immensely). He used that run-in to add to his “take care of yourself and get out of school for a bit” case. After that incident, it wasn’t that hard to convince me.

This is where I’ll pick up next week.

This Big Sur Travel Weekend

November 20, 2012

San Francisco to Monterey on Google mapsHow awful was my travel planning for this weekend? Really awful.

I pieced it together little by little, and in the end, it made no sense.

Originally, I planned to fly up there so that I could easily take public transportation (and be closer to Monterey so the public transport would only take me 4 or so hours as opposed to 4 or so million hours).

Then, I couldn’t find a free place to stay. I decided to go ahead and book a hotel. One three miles away was a good deal cheaper than one very close to the start. I went ahead and decided to save the money, thinking I could walk it or perhaps get a ride. I figured that I’d figure something out.

Later, I decided I’d go ahead and just rent a car. “I’ll get to Monterey quicker. I’ll have more freedom to get anywhere I need to go – expo, restaurants, whatever I need.”

I first noticed my travel plans were not optimal as I drove farther and farther south (aka toward Los Angeles – from whence I came)! Why did I fly up here when I was just going to drive toward my apartment?

(Side note: My flight was delayed a couple of hours. Add that to travel time to get to and from airports, and going through security, I’m really thinking I would’ve barely lost any time just driving the whole way.)

Of course, then I ended up being the most confusing three miles away from the hotel that I could be. It involved getting on the highway, and taking a really quick exit. There was no way I was ever going to find my way to the morning of the race (and find a place to park where there was barely any free parking). Then a cab started to look good. But then why did I drive?

Why did I fly? Why did I drive? So many questions. So many mistakes.

Oh well. I didn’t have to drive too terribly far. (I hate driving.) I had the pleasure of flying. (I love flying.) Even though I could’ve made some smarter decisions, I got everywhere I needed to be. I suppose that’s what matters in the end.

(#43) Big Sur Half Marathon – Part 2 (A Dog Ran Onto The Course!!!)

November 19, 2012

Picking up from yesterday,

So, I’m jogging along. All of a sudden, a big dog comes running down the field of runners!

What?

The owner is nowhere in sight! There is no leash hanging off the dog, leading me to think it’s not like the dog just accidentally got away from the owner. Where is the owner of this scary brown dog?

So, this dog is coming. (I assume to eat us all, of course.) I book it to the nearest human and grab onto this man’s arm for dear life.

The dog just ran past us, and everybody lived. Just barely, obviously. My heart was going about 300 beats a minute. I apologized to the man, and walked on, doing my best to calm my heart and myself. (It was really, really scary!)

About a mile and a half later, my heart rate was still only just starting to come down. That’s when I met Darcy and Lisa and recounted the frightening tale.

We became fast friends and talked for the next few miles.

The race was pretty scenic. As I was driving there, I thought about how funny it is that, living (and running) in California, I’m to the point where I’m a little sick of seeing the coast. However, something about being in the race made it a much prettier sight. It’s a nice view.

The one lame thing (besides a leash-less dog!) about this otherwise amazing race was that they rerouted us at the end! We didn’t even get to see mile marker 12 (which was especially a bummer since the mile markers were so super cute – also because I love mile markers as aids to keep me encouraged and aware of where I am).

I came in under the time limit and was on pace to do so the whole time (meaning I should not have been rerouted). As I’ve said before, I don’t like when races say you have a certain amount of time, but then don’t really give you that amount of time. I realize I’m very slow. If it’s too slow for you, just put an earlier time limit on your website.

Also, obviously, I need to work and speed (and will do so next year) so this is never an issue. But even if I get to the point where it’s never an issue for me, there are still other people in the world – other newbies, other people who do it completely as a hobby just to get off the couch and not to have PRs and things, etc.

Even if I’m running Boston someday, I care about all the new people to the sport. You want them to love it and want to come back. Anyway, let me just step off that timing soapbox of today.

I forgot that one of the reasons I signed up for this race was because it had a cool medal that looked different from most, so I was stoked about my new, interesting medal.

They also served soup, which I thought was a pretty rad thing to do. It was Minestrone. I’ve never had it, but it was a big word and I just decided not to go over and try it.

I saw some people I’d met at the expo. One person came up to me and said that he’d checked out my blog and that what I was doing meant a lot to him. He said, “That man I was with yesterday – he was my partner. I really appreciate what you’re doing for us.”

That really meant a lot to me. I certainly have a lot of people in my life who are affected by marriage equality. (Really, we are all affected because it affects the sort of world we live in.) But, you know, I have a lot of friends in the LGBT community who will be directly affected. It’s not as though I’ve completely forgotten the people for whom I’m running.

But sometimes, while running for a cause, an idea – a more tolerant world where all citizens are treated equally – I forget about the specific, individual people who struggle in a world where many view them as “less than.” To have a person come up and thank me for what I was doing, it just really touched my heart.

43 races down! Onto the Quadzuki next weekend!

(#43) Big Sur Half Marathon – Part 1 (Signs & Fun)

November 18, 2012

This race was one of the last ones I added when making the schedule, and I’m glad I added it. It may have just cracked the top 5 of the year.

People were saying it was most likely going to be cold and rainy the morning of the race, but the weather was lovely.

Before the race started, the announcer came over the sound system. “Due to unforeseen circumstances, we need someone out there to sing our national anthem. Seriously. One of you, please volunteer.” You know I would’ve been first up on the stage in this scenario, in most cases. However, I was about 80 million miles from the stage in one of the last corrals. I couldn’t teleport over there, and someone got to it before me. Ah, well, perhaps next time.

I wanted to see how long I could stay with the 3-hour pacer in this race. However, there was no 3-hour pacer. So, I lined up with 2:45! And I actually made it for almost 3 miles. Mike was taking a run/walk approach. It was sort of nice ’cause the walk breaks were lovely – but that meant we had to go all that much faster when we were running!

He was a fun pacer, and it was a fun group. I knew there was no way I was doing the whole race with them, but I told them I’d hold on as long as I could. Mike had a little speaker system with him and said we could request songs. Everyone else was pretty quiet about their requests, so everyone once in a while, you’d just hear this struggling voice toward the back of our pack “Maroon 5!” “Carly Rae Jepsen!”

After I lost the group, I slowed way down and just sort of chilled out for a few miles.

The mile markers in this race were hilarious. I loved them so much. There were cute little cartoons on every one!

There were some great signs in general at this race. Someone had one that said “Stop reading! Run!”

Then there was an apartment building I passed that had signs all along the balcony: “Choices. – You could be watching football and drinking beer.” “Don’t worry, everyone gets a trophy.” “Some people won’t drive 13.1 miles today.” “You’re NOT almost there yet.”

Whoever lives there – thanks for putting signs all along your balcony. We are now friends (even though we do not know each other).

Someone else had Justin Bieber cutouts along the road, which I thought was pretty funny and random.

There was a guy holding a sign that said, “Run faster! I just farted,” who was out there all day cheering for people. Big ups to you, man.

Once we got to the turnaround, I got a new burst of energy. As soon as I made the turn, for some reason I felt like as long as there were people on the other side of the turnaround who could see me going the opposite way – I had to jog, as though I had to justify being ahead of them in the race. It was fun because it gave me and added burst of energy.

I tried to cheer for everyone I passed. Our names were on our bibs so I told people great job by name as I jogged along.

Then something scary happened. And this is where I’ll pick up tomorrow.

Big Sur Half Marathon Expo

November 17, 2012

Thompson being awesome (next to the sign about free yoga!).

Best expo yet!

I’m surprised to hear myself say that. I wasn’t sure that expos got better than Indy or Rock ‘n’ Roll San Diego. Apparently they do.

I also didn’t know there’d still be new things to experience at an expo 43 races in, but there were!

First off, right when I walked in there was a nice volunteer – in a jacket and tie(!) – enthusiastically helping people. (Everyone here was incredibly nice.)

Check this out – they had free yoga! Free yoga. I kid you not. It was presented by Lululemon, and they gave me a free yoga mat (to keep!). (It was a nice yoga mat too. It was restorative yoga, and it made me feel restored. (Thank you so much, Brie!)

After yoga, I did a trip through the expo. Before you even entered the hall, there were big tables set up manned by the very lovely Friends of the Monterey Public Library.

There were sightseeing brochures and things to encourage people to explore Monterey.

Also, before you got inside the actual expo, there was a whole sign-making station set up, which I thought was cool and a fun activity for spectators.

Outside and inside the expo, you could hear about how this half marathon is going green. You could also recycle your shoes.

Onto the goody bags, they are absolute geniuses here. Your little bag check paper was attached to your bib (normal) but had adhesive on the back! What? Instead of tearing off your bib number and getting a zip tie – you just stick it right on your bag. And by “you do it” what I mean is they do it for you!

Also, in said bag, I got a beautiful shirt. Tech material, long-sleeved, a color other than white (maroon-y) – all of my favorite things! It also has the date of the race prominently displayed on the front. I loved it.

Plus, there’s a big, really well put together weekend guide in the bag.

Now my quick little tour of the expo – there was a group promoting international running adventures (such as the Great Wall Marathon (in China of course). We’ll start talking about all these races they mentioned (China, Tanzania, Antarctica) another day…

I also got a free Gatorade! Boom! I love when I get free Gatorade, and if it happens, it’s usually at the race, but on expo day? Thank you so much Gatorade!

I also spent some time at the awesome booth for the San Diego Half Marathon at Petco Park. They gave me a free shirt, a discount code, and told me about their new race next year in Mammoth. They have a San Diego/Mammoth challenge thing in the same year coming up. Even though it’s too late to be a San Diego legacy runner (I was out of town during the race this (inaugural) year), I could be a challenge (and Mammoth) legacy.

I ran by the pacer booth and saw Darris (the race director of the Columbus half), so that was very fun.

I have to mention the cool thing the Modesto Marathon is doing. They put all the names of people who qualified for Boston (who’ve never been to the Boston Marathon and who registered saying they were going to try to qualify) in a hat after the race. They draw a name, and that person gets $1,000 so they can plan their trip to the Boston Marathon! So cool, right? Sign me up in uh, 5 or so years…

The point is, this expo rocked and I am unbelievably stoked for the race tomorrow!

(#42) Malibu International Half Marathon (November 11, 2012)

November 15, 2012

Surprisingly, I don’t have a ton to say about this one.

I got a bit lost on the way to this race, which really shouldn’t surprise anyone considering I have absolutely no sense of direction whatsoever.

However, I was not even close to being late to the race. I left very early knowing I’d get lost winding through mountains. I may have been late yesterday. And I may have been late last weekend (Aye, aye, aye.) But today, I was super early!

As I wound through the mountains in the morning, I saw a couple of lone houses and thought about how I would not enjoy living there whatsoever. It seemed so lonely and quiet. They might love it, but I’d go nuts.

Also, let’s take a little side break here to talk about Maroon 5’s new song – One More Night. And by “new,” I mean it came out in June and I heard it for the first time on this trip.

It is awesome! I’m obsessed with it. Maroon 5 is really an incredible band. They have a great, unique sound (or perhaps Adam Levine just has a unique voice). As soon as Adam Levine started singing, I knew it must be a Maroon 5 song. They have clever lyrics, and interesting song ideas. I enjoy them so much!

Getting to the race, I saw a lot more ING NYC marathoners today. There are out and about. They are running, and they are wearing their bibs!

Supathlon participants started with us today. I never knew that was a thing until today – and I’m still not positive it is a thing other than here. Apparently it’s a run followed by paddleboarding. Who would’ve known?

I met a few sweethearts at the race starting with Analisa on the shuttle bus. There was a fun group from Canada that I hung with at the start.

During the race, I’d walk with a group for a while, then jog ahead to the next walking group. It made for some varied conversations and fun times. The volunteers at the first water stop handed out leis. That was pretty fun.

In a lot of races, there will be something especially special in the final mile – more spectators, more decorations – just generally more. In this race, nothing felt different to me about the final mile. I started to think it might never end… but then it did! (Not that I don’t love half marathoning… but you know, cliffs, ocean, cliffs, ocean. I got the gist… ;))

I saw my good ol’ friend Endorphin Dude at the finish.

I also won a free marathon entry by spinning the wheel at Compete Green’s booth! I had actually won a free race entry by spinning the same wheel in December at a 5k, but wasn’t able to use it this year because it didn’t fit into my crazy half marathoning schedule. Now, I won all over again for next year. What are the chances of the happening?

I walked for 1,000 years (about .8 miles) back to the car. I was ready to jet back to the hotel since I wanted to soak up every bit of awesome hotel-ness before check-out. (Thank you so much, Quality Inn for my late check out. The Quality Inn Thousand Oaks rocks! (No one even paid me or gave me a discount or anything to say that!))

Then I saw these two women walking to their cars. (I think all of us underestimated how ginormous that parking lot was.)

I asked if they wanted a ride, and they took me up on my offer. They weren’t quite sure where their car was. (That sounds like a situation I could easily find myself in.)

We found it quite quickly, and I much preferred taking an extra 3 minutes to help some strangers than have 3 more minutes in my hotel bed. (In fact, I probably should’ve just driven people around that big, long parking lot until everyone had gotten back to their cars.)

I know I’m really harping on the parking lot here, but everyone walking to their cars seemed a bit tired. (I know I was…)

Once I got back to the hotel, I took a little dip in the hot tub and used my Malibu Marathon towel to dry off. They gave towels instead of t-shirts at this race.

Then I hung out at a Starbucks for a while, just enjoying the idea of being far away from home – even if I was only about an hour away. I liked the little escape.

By the way, small victory – I did that whole pre-buy the gas thing. As I was turning the corner to get to the rental car place, the gas light came on. Score!

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 32 (The “Touching On the Scar and Going Home” Chapter)

November 14, 2012

A Scar, but not my scar. (Get it?) (Photo Credit: Disney)
A Scar, but not my scar. (Get it?)
(Photo Credit: Disney)

It’s Wednesday night , so the story continues.

Picking up from last week –

Let’s address the issue of the scar. I almost put up a picture here of my scar,

(Edited to add: Later, I did.)

but I thought that might be weird. You can see it sometimes in certain lower-cut outfits, but we won’t look at it on here today.

When I found out I’d be having open-heart surgery, my biggest concern was the scar. Forget “pump head,” micro air bubbles, and everything. Let’s worry about the way I look.

I love dancing! How am I going to ever be a Pacemate if I have a scar up to my neck?

If you do a quick search for open-heart surgery scars on the internet, you can find plenty! Some look okay. Some look not as okay. I spent way too much time looking at them before my surgery.

I was extremely lucky in that I had a doctor who gave me what is the smallest scar I could imagine. I still have a scar, which, of course, sucks. But, it’s quite small in terms of open heart surgery scars.

It’s weird that I can feel the place where my sternum was cracked. I remember not too terribly long after I’d healed, I put my hand on a friend’s chest while telling him something, and I felt what a normal sternum felt like. It’d already forgotten.

I don’t go around feeling my own (or other people’s) sternum all day. But once you have a weird feeling sternum, it’s something you notice. Isn’t it weird how stuff works like that – people becoming keenly aware of normal things once their normal thing is different.

Of course, at this point in the hosptial, I wasn’t yet feeling or seeing the scar as it was bandaged up pretty well.

My doctors were sweet and kind. All the various doctors who’d been on my case at Mass General came to check on me at one point or another. Dr. Vlahakes, my surgeon, said the surgery went brilliantly. I easily came off the bypass machine. I didn’t need any blood transfusions. Everything went great.

I got better and stronger as the week went on. One week from my surgery I was discharged.

Stephen came to get me. (He had just gotten back from Greece.) I refused to take a wheelchair downstairs. I remember being slightly more energetic than usual. I think I may have been slightly overdoing it in the “look how healthy and sprightly I am!” show – not in any way that exhausted or injured me. Just in the way that I wouldn’t have wanted to be around me.

“I get it. You don’t need a wheelchair. Quite scurrying down the halls and bouncing off the walls. Just be a calm adult and get in the elevator.” That’s what I would’ve told myself. But Stephen just smiled and said you couldn’t even tell I’d had had surgery.

Boom. You know it!

He drove me home and asked if I needed anything at all. I didn’t. I’d set myself up very well for my return (pats self on back).

You’d think I might be bored – coming from the busy world of the hospital with the constant chatter and machines beeping, the bright lights, and the general hustle and bustle to the boring little (lovely) apartment that was my home.

I didn’t have time to get bored yet, I had guitars to record for my soundalike project.

This is where I’ll pick up next week.

(#41B) Santa Barbara International Half Marathon (November 10, 2012) – Part 2 (Music and Finishing)

November 13, 2012

Picking up from yesterday –

One thing that was fun about this race was that there was some random music along the way. There was a sort of low-key jamboree thing going one and a drum circle type thing at one point. It was the most interesting, eclectic collection of bands I’d seen yet.

The volunteers hanging out at mile nine were awesome. Once I made it there, they said in unison, “Welcome to Mile 9!” They made it seem really cool to be there.

One interesting thing about this race was that there were a lot of runners who planned on doing the ING NYC marathon. I saw people wearing their NYC bibs on their back, their NYC gear, etc.

We could talk forever about this year’s ING NYC marathon. (In case someone is reading this way in the future and doesn’t remember what happened this year – there was a huge hurricane in New York that hit Monday of race week. Mayor Bloomberg said the race would go on all the way until Friday of race weekend. Then he/NYRR pulled the plug. Everyone was up in arms. (Some were mad about the race being cancelled so last minute. Some were mad that it took so longer – no matter what people were mad about, very few people were happy about it.)

There have been many debates over everything about this year’s ING NYC marathon. I joined some of them (but haven’t opened one up on my blog). I may or may not do a post about it. I was going to while the race was still happening, then everything changed. So, I don’t know. I think we’re all done talking about it. Therefore, I most likely will not do a post. But you never know.)

The point is, I was happy to see the NYC runners doing a race – even if it wasn’t the one they’d been planning on. (Many races offered discounts to runners who’d been denied the race. This race offered 300 steeply discounted entries.)

Moving on… to my feet – I’m sure a riveting topic you’re all on the edge of your seats about – I got a new pair of Brooks Dyads. I broke them in a bit, but really not enough to do an entire race in them. I went back and forth for a bit, arguing with myself – “They’re really just not broken in enough. You will regret this.” “But they’re so comfy and new! I’ll be fine.” Sure enough, they, in fact, were not broken in enough – just as the rational part of me knew.

I was having a rough time in the last few miles, getting blisters and all that jazz. (Ew.)

One thing that was different about this race that I may have forgotten to mention earlier – they didn’t give any bags (for bag check). Environmentally conscious? Nuisance? I don’t know how to feel about it… All I know was I didn’t have a bag and I didn’t bring one for bag check. That’s why I’m holding keys and water in my photos.

Going toward the finish line was hilarious. I kept waiting and waiting to be done. (My feet were hurting (which was completely my own fault, but didn’t make it any less true).) I finally got to a point where speakers blared out “Welcome to the Jungle.” Home stretch!

Psych.

Usually when you’ve been going for a while and you hear the blaring music, you’re almost done. But here, the music faded and there was more quiet before I hit the actual end music. There was also this little maze toward the end that I was pretty sure was going to last forever. However, alas, eventually I hit the finish line.

Not only did I get my half marathon medal, I got a large medal for the end of the Southern California Half Marathon Series. I know I was back and forth on whether I was going to do that series. But I will say, that medal is pretty dope – and a lot nicer (and larger) than I thought it would be.

I hopped on a shuttle, went back to the car, and started to drive toward Malibu. I realized I was incredibly tired, parked in a shaded parking lot, napped for an hour or so – then off to Malibu I went!

I’ll tell you about that race next!

(#41B) Santa Barbara International Half Marathon (November 10, 2012) – Part 1 (Morning Bus Rides & Funny Signs)

November 12, 2012

crowded shuttle bus on the way to the Santa Barbara International Half MarathonAnother series down; another race down!

Our shuttle bus was a party. We were mainly sitting three to a seat, with some people on other people’s laps. People who were ready to board a shuttle around 5:45am still weren’t at the race for a 7:15 start. There were very few buses and many, many people.

They held the start for 15 minutes. My shuttle didn’t get there until somewhere around 7:40 – and I still had to get my bib. Yet again (just like last week), I was late – even though I was way early.

I got into Santa Barbara at 5:15. (I also ended up on a shuttle that took me to a second shuttle spot instead of the race start (even though the instructions said it would take people to the race). So, by the time I got to the second shuttle stop, the line was humongous.)

On my bus, everyone kept wondering – “They’ve started without us, haven’t they?” “I bet they already started,” until one girl said “There are people running – at which point there was a collective sigh.

Basically, the morning was a bit of a mess. At least this time I don’t feel responsible. I got there super early, followed instructions, and still ended up late.

This time it also was a much smaller deal, ’cause here, there were tons and tons of people who were late. I wasn’t even the latest. When I was already on the course, I saw a big group of people booking it to the start – from the opposite direction I was going.

Can you imagine having to jog part of the course in the opposite way and see all these people making progress – knowing you are just getting to the start line?

Not only had the shuttle been quite late for them, at that point, I guess it couldn’t get past certain road barricades that had been put into effect.

I didn’t actually have any strong feelings about all this. Some people were annoyed. I was mildly annoyed about standing around waiting for the bus for a such a long time ’cause it was sort of chilly in the morning. But it’s California. Honestly, how chilly does it really get?

Look out for people riding horses? I’ve never seen this sign before…

Anyway, getting to the actual racing stuff – to me, this marathon was the marathon of signs. There were interesting signs I’d never seen before and a new funny one.

Someone had a sign that just said “Encouraging words,” which I thought was really funny.

One person was holding a sign that was just a big smiley face – and he had a huge smile himself the whole time.

(My favorite new funny sign is the last one in this post.)

There were some motivational signs such as one that said “Be the good in the world.” (That one was from the Gwendolyn Strong foundation.) I had never heard of the gsf foundation until that race, at which point I heard about it hardcore.

It seemed as though every person I saw was wearing a shirt running for the gsf. (The foundation increases awareness of Spinal Muscular Atrophy and searches for a cure.) They were out in full force and absolutely could not be ignored. Their motto and branding and everything is burned in my brain forever.

You can find out your best time according to Paul Ryan here: http://www.PaulRyanTimeCalculator.com/

The volunteers and spectators at this race were really good about cheering for you by name (which is on your bib). That’s always one of my very favorite things about running Indiana – you hear your name about 40,000 times and feel super special. We were all rockstars at this race as well. (Yay!)

One thing that was weird about the aid stations here was that there weren’t any until after we hit mile 3. Then they were everywhere! (By everywhere I mean every single other mile.)

I didn’t mind. I’m just a bit curious why it was laid out that way. I heard some of the people who started in a rush (late) talking about a wish for water, but we all got plenty by the end.

This was the first time I’d done a half marathon where the marathoners do the entire second half of their race on the half marathon course.

On one hand, it’s sort of cool. You got to see the 1st place male and female go by. You get to see everyone go by. You see the story of the marathon as it unfolds. But you also feel even slower than usual. (By “you” in those sentences, I mean me. Actual you might very well be a lot faster than I am.)

I’ll pick up here tomorrow.

(#41A) Lady Speed Stick Women’s Half Marathon AZ (Nov. 4, 2012) – Part 5 (The Actual Race Post)

November 11, 2012

Now that the crazy part of the story is over, let’s talk about the actual race.

Once I got into the race, it was really fun. The spectators for this race were so joyous, silly, encouraging, and wonderful.

I’d heard from one of my friends that the only all-women race she’d done had a really uplifting vibe that was hard to describe, and it was hard to put her finger on as to why it was so different from a normal race.

I was a bit skeptical. Racers and spectators are always awesome. How will this one be any different with mostly women? (It wasn’t quite all women. I think there were fifty-ish men in a crowd of over 3,000 women.)

But for some reason it did feel a little different, a little sweeter, a little happier. Not to fall into gender stereotypes or anything… it just was it was, and that was my experience.

Another cool thing that I noticed here was that there were people from the medical staff just out walking/running around – looking around, checking on people throughout the race. You didn’t necessarily have to wait until you got to a tent if you were out. They were out and about – offering water to anyone who looked dehydrated, trying to proactively help anyone they could.

I also loved that for the first time I can remember this year, I heard the Macarena on the course, and saw spectators doing the dance. It was pretty awesome.

Also, just a general note. I like the Phoenix area. It’s hot and sunny, of course, which is not my favorite, but the air seems so much nicer than the air on Los Angeles. It’s really pretty over there, and I just get a generally nice vibe from the Phoenix area. I like it.

After the race, there’s a Charm Transfer Station where people will help you take the charm out of the middle of your medal and put it on a necklace or bracelet if you want.

I was treated like an absolute queen at this event, and they gave me a free bracelet (Thank you!) ‘cause they liked my whole 52 in 52 deal!

I wasn’t completely sure how I’d feel about the idea of turning a medal into jewelry. It sounded pretty cool, but I wanted to wear it to see how I’d feel about it.

Now I can say I think it’s a pretty awesome idea. I think it’s fun to wear a piece of your medal around in day-to-day life – especially if this was someone’s very first half marathon (or maybe a PR), it’d be pretty cool. You get to have a little reminder on you all day of “look what I accomplished.”

(Of course, I kind of made a mess out of this race… But it’s still a very neat idea that I think is very cool.)

For me personally – oh my goodness, not even to bring it back to this, right? But, I’ve never been one to wear jewelry. When something is put around my wrist, I have a small flashback to wearing my hospital bracelets (‘cause there was a time when I was wearing them all the time). I am sure there will come a point in my life when I don’t have a tiny moment that thinks about hospital bracelets anytime I put on a bracelet – but that time hasn’t come yet.

I don’t live in that old world of the hospital. I don’t think about it all the time, but I do have small moments that catapult me back to some other moment from that time. Having something put on my wrist was one of those small moments.

I think it’s nice to be able to put something saying “Yeah, what up, world?” (It doesn’t literally say that) in the same spot that used to sport a sign of weakness.

So, there you have it. The Women’s Half Marathon. Truthfully, I loved it. I loved the vibe. I love the sweet medals and jewelry. I love the kind staff, the lovely runners. I love it all. I wish I wouldn’t have made a bit of a mess of my morning, but it is for sure a race I’d do again.

(#41A) Lady Speed Stick Women’s Half Marathon AZ (Nov. 4, 2012) – Part 4 (The Morning Craziness, Pt. 4 – The Surprisingly Welcome Attitude of Those Around Me)

November 10, 2012

Last time, I had entered the race from a cab and tried to explain what was going on to the runners around me.

Surprisingly, instead of being frustrated or yelling about how I just should’ve gone home,  the runners welcomed me with open arms. They seemed even more bummed about my morning than I was!

A woman named Mary even gave me a pack of energy chews that she’d brought specifically for sharing with other runners. (I’d been smart enough to set out food and water the night before, but didn’t get the chance to eat it in the crazy events of the morning.)

I found out after the race that I was not alone. Other people had been messed up by daylight savings. I still felt like a chump, but a bit less of one.

Funnily, one of the race staffers apologized to me for not putting warnings on all the materials that Arizona does not partake in daylight savings.

It’s my fault I didn’t set my phone right and make back-up wake-up plans, but it was adorable of them to reach out and grab some of that blame off my shoulder. (Although appreciated, it certainly was not necessary. In my book, blame on Women’s Half Marathon = 0%.)

I talked to the timing company after the race. They agreed to go ahead and list me with the finishers. I asked that they give me a 7am starting time (instead of after 7:30 when I did) to add more time to finisher’s time, helping to make up (at least records-wise) those miles I accidentally missed. They went ahead and did that.

The policy of Competitor Group (the company putting on this race) for runners who fall behind is to put them in the sag wagon and bring them forward to a later mile, allowing them to continue on.

So, as far as whether I was cheating their specific system, I wasn’t really since they allow people to cut out miles when they won’t make it otherwise. They give them medals. They list them as finishers. So, I’m in line with what the company allows.

Ethically, I’m sure we could all come up with different points about why what I did was okay or not okay. But, I did it. I had an amazing time at the race once I actually got in it!

I look forward to telling you about that wonderful time tomorrow.

(#41A) Lady Speed Stick Women’s Half Marathon AZ (Nov. 4, 2012) – Part 3 (The Morning Craziness, Pt. 3 – So, Then I Get a Cab Involved?)

November 9, 2012

Picking up from last time –

At this point, I know there is no way that I’m going to be able to jog back the 2 1/2 miles, and get back on the course, and catch up and finish before the time limit. Unfortunately, I’m not that fast (yet).

I called a cab to take me to somewhere around mile marker 4.

I wait about 10 or so minutes for the cab. Then, we end up going the wrong way twice (and not realizing for a bit each time). I guess he’s new to Arizona. I certainly didn’t know the city at all. He was an incredibly sweet man, but we were a mess trying to figure out where we were going.

We realize that the mile marker we’re hoping to see is on a path where cars can’t go. Also, by this time between the waiting and the driving, we’ve wasted all the time I made up and then some.

I desperately don’t want to cheat. I also don’t want to just give up, go back to the hotel, and spend a billion dollars on cabs this morning for nothing. I ask him to go ahead and take me to mile marker 5 (which we believe is a place a car can go). I’ll try to make up the missing distance by running some circles later on, or figuring it out somehow. At least I’ll be on the path (know where I’m going) and have water, Gatorade, and such.

Well, the next place we end up finding that has runners is toward the end of mile 6! Rargh, rargh, rargh.

I want so badly to try to go back farther, but we both (the cab drive and I) have apparently no clue where we are ever, a bunch of roads around us are closed, and quite frankly, I’m out of cash. I only grabbed so much as I was running out the door. I didn’t expect the morning ride to cost $43 (gulp), or tow have a second ride in the middle of the race.

At that point, I didn’t feel as though I had tons of options. I struggled with whether I should jump in or call it a day and leave the race area.

Even though I knew I would not be counting this as an official half for myself, I wanted to experience this race. I wanted to know if it was one I’d like to do in the future.

I jumped out of the cab and started running.

As I came into the race, I definitely felt the glares. I don’t blame the runners giving them to me. They were working hard, and some girl jumps from a cab onto the course?

I explained what was going on to the people immediately around me, so I could try to release some tension from my area.

How did that go over? Find out tomorrow.

(#41A) Lady Speed Stick Women’s Half Marathon AZ (Nov. 4, 2012) – Part 2 (The Morning Craziness, Pt. 2 – And Then I Got Lost, Of Course)

November 8, 2012

Picking up from last time –

So, I start running with no one else around. I get to the intersection. I realize I have no idea where I’m going. The race as been extremely efficient at cleaning up immediately after the last runner. There are no marking anywhere as to where to go. I jog back down towards where I came and yell to the clean up crew, “Do you have any idea where I go.” The person closest to me gives me the “I have no idea” shrug.

I call my dad to see if he can give me directions. Then I realize I’m on an iPhone. I hang up the phone and pull up the map from the website. Turns out, I already started running the wrong way through the start.

Yep, this is going brilliantly so far.

I run the opposite direction, through the start again and follow the map.

I’m pushing myself, trying to catch up to anyone. I just want to see the last place person, but I know that starting over half an hour late, I won’t see anyone until probably somewhere in mile 4 at the earliest. (It’s more probable to happen in mile 5 or 6.)

I don’t listen to music for the first mile and a half. I have way too many thoughts chattering in my head, and I’m too nervous about this whole trying-to-find-the-last-runners-thing to listen to any music.

Another runner with a bib blows past me. Okay, at least I’m not alone in my situation, and I’m probably still going the right way. Cool.

I saw the first mile marker, and was reassured that I was in fact going the right direction. I looked down at my phone. 12-minute mile. Not too shabby. The time limit has 20 minute miles. I’m 8 minutes closer to catching up with anyone going that speed.

I speed up a little in my second mile. I don’t want to go nuts (for me – I know 11 minute-miles are nothing for many people). Even if I tire myself out now, I’ll be able to make 20-minute-miles happen.

I make a turn onto a street where I’ll just jog on down that same street for the next while. On the one hand, this is a pretty big relief because I am awful (absolutely terrible) with directions and reading maps, so I’m excited not to have to turn for a while.

On the other, this is nerve-wracking because I might not realize I’m going the wrong way for a long while if the next street I’m looking for doesn’t show up for two miles.

I run along, looking for people to hopefully verify that I’m going toward McDowell. It’s a Sunday morning, so not many people are out and about. I just keep jogging, pretty sure that I’ve diligently followed the map. (I sort of tried to check it out using my GPS, but just got nervous about spending too much time figuring it out. I decided to trust that I’d read the map correctly and jog it on out.

One I was pretty sure that a mile had gone by, I was kind of disheartened that I didn’t see a mile marker 2. I chalked it up to the fact that the clean-up crew was working really hard. From the start there had been very few cones or signs that a race had taken place that morning. It made sense that mile marker 2 would not be there.

Keep jogging.

Third mile marker is nowhere to be found. After I’d done about 2 1/2 miles, I started to get really nervous that I didn’t see the next street to turn on – and I found a human being! She said I was definitely going the wrong way.

Of course.

This is where I’ll pick up tomorrow.

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 31 (The Time in the Hospital After Open-Heart Surgery Chapter)

November 7, 2012

Aurora De Lucia immediately after having open-heart surgery
I had the presence of mind to think “you may want one picture of this in the future to remember it.” If only I’d known I’d be writing a freaking novel, I’d have thought to take more! (Sorry.) Here’s the one I’ve got!

It’s Wednesday night , so the story continues.

Picking up from last week –

Eventually, they took me off of my morphine drip. This was pretty much the saddest thing ever. But, i guess eventually you have to start becoming a fully functioning human again.

Speaking of becoming human, they started taking tubes and wires out throughout the week. I don’t know exactly what everything did, but you balloon up a good number of pounds afterward ’cause your body has extra – I don’t even know – in it. Whatever it is, it all gets drained out.

Once the drains and IVs and temporary pacemaker wires were no longer needed, we got rid of them. What I’m saying it, I’m no longer part machine. Wah wah.

I got to start breathing into this little… it almost seemed like a toy, but it was a little blue thing you got to blow into to raise a little ball thing. It would measure how well your lungs were doing.

You had to do three things before you were allowed to leave the hospital – walk up a flight of stairs, take a poo, and… I forget the third thing! I think it may have been to sit completely upright? I don’t remember. Maybe you do if you have open heart surgery.

But how funny is it to look back on that time and remember that week’s goals? When was the last time people cheered you on for walking and taking a poo? We’re like little toddlers in there.

I think I was pushed a little harder than some ’cause I was “young” (which is a relative term – we’re all old to someone and young to someone else). Some of the nurses seemed to want me to get up and start walking around very soon after surgery.

I know you all are on my side and looking out for me, but cut a girl a break! My sternum hurts. I appreciated the “tough love” nurses during the day. But there was a nurse at night who was very patient and sweet (and even gave little back massages!).

I remember when the night nurse took me to the stairs to make sure I could climb a flight. I went up slowly at first, thinking a “flight” meant all the way to the next floor. I want to run, but thought I’d ease in, seeing what I was capable of. I wanted to run for it once I got to the landing!

(Photo credit: Edupics.com)
(Photo credit: Edupics.com)

Turns out the landing was as far as I had to go. And she didn’t want to let me run up stairs. Boring. (She said she had enough adventure in her life as is.)

Nurses got me moving more and more each day. Walking was measured in how many times you could walk around the floor (a pretty small floor) – odd for someone who used to measure her distance in miles.

– – – – – – –

While we’re speaking of the hospital, let me jump back for a second to previous visits. I forgot to mention this when I was in the hospital for my blood clots and such. One of my great friends from high school who was living in Boston at the time asked if I wanted to hang out. I was all, “yeah, but I’m kind of trapped in the hospital.”

There was some weird little window where I was healthy enough to be allowed to go to the cafeteria on my own and drink some milk with my friend, but not healthy enough to be discharged. It was also a weird window in that I was all “sure, bring me a visitor!” when oftentimes I didn’t want them. (It helps that I went to high school with her. I have an extremely tight knit bond with my high school buds. We’d walk through fire for each other.)

It was actually super fun to see my friend and to have a little in-hospital adventure. It felt like I was some kind of explorer/adventurer to get to go off my floor and into the uncharted territory of… the lobby!

– – – – – – –

Back to open-heart surgery week – well, we’ll pick up here next week.

(#41A) Lady Speed Stick Women’s Half Marathon AZ (Nov. 4, 2012) – Part 1 (The Morning Craziness, Pt. 1 – Aye, Aye, Aye Daylight Saving)

November 6, 2012

Why is this race 41A instead of plain ol’ 41? A few miles got cut out of my route (you’ll see why), so I won’t officially count this one in my challenge, but I still wanted to tell you about it. (It’s a great race I’d recommend/do again).

I was staying at a hotel very close to the finish line. There were free shuttles run by the race from the finish to the start. (This was a point to point race.) My shuttle was going to leave at 6:30.

I woke up around 5:45. I called down to the front desk asking for a cab at 6. Then I started brushing my teeth, putting on sunscreen – generally getting ready for the morning.

My dad called around 5:55 to say good morning and see what’s up.
Daddy: So, what time does your race start?

Aurora: 7.

Daddy: 5 minutes from now?

Aurora: An hour and 5 minutes from now.

Daddy: You’re in Arizona, right?

Aurora: Yes.

Daddy: They don’t have daylight savings in Arizona.

Aurora: I know. My phone says it’s almost 6. It shouldn’t have changed. I called down to the front desk and said I wanted a cab at 6. He didn’t say anything about it…

Daddy: Huh. Well, if he didn’t say anything about it, maybe it is 6 out there.

Aurora: But you’re really making me nervous now.

Daddy: Well, just call the front desk and call me back.

I got off the phone with dad, googled “What time is it in Arizona?” Sure enough, it was almost 7! The cab called and said they were there. I grabbed my bib and safety pins, and ran out the door.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
(You can skip this side note if you want to keep the flow of the story…)

Side note: I knew it was the night of daylight savings and that Arizona did not partake, and I was worried about this very thing happening. So, I thought I had set my settings on my phone to make it so that it would not adjust for daylight savings. I did not do that correctly.

Also, I tried to get a wake-up call, but the hotel I was staying with was under renovation. There was only one person on staff and he was being run ragged with people who needed him because various things weren’t working. I eventually gave up trying to get my wake-up call. I don’t blame him. He was working hard. And I had his attention when I checked in and should’ve had the foresight to do it right then.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Apparently, even if “set automatically” is off, it will follow your time zone listed on your phone…

I told my cab driver that I needed to get to the start line and gave her the map that I had. We –

A) got a little lost.
B) Got a little diverted because of closed streets.

I ended up getting to the start at 7:30(!)

The timing mat had been taken up. There were a group of runners there who, I think, were in the same boat. They said there were going to drive and catch up and asked if I wanted a ride. I said thanks, but politely declined. I wanted to start from the beginning and catch up on foot.

I started asking around at the start line if someone could just write what time I started so that I could still get counted as an official finisher.

Everyone there said they weren’t a race official or someone with the timing company. So, I just looked at one guy and said, “What’s your name?” He said, “Ryan.” I said, “Okay Ryan. When I talk to the timing company at the end to try to get an official time, I’m gonna let them know that you were a witness to my start.” He said okay.

So, I start running.

This is where I’ll pick up Thursday.

Lady Speed Stick Women’s Half Marathon Expo

November 4, 2012

Me and the Luna bar crew! – Heather, Laurel, Dalton, Joscelyn, and Rebecca. I loved this booth!

So sorry to bombard y’all in a night. But as I was cleaning up the blog and preparing for the weekend, I realized I had a big gaping hole I had left for this expo. So, here’s that post!

We hit this expo fast and furious!

Right after the Really Big Free Half Marathon, Wendy, Marty, and I jumped in the RV and Marty drove us all to this expo. (They brought snacks. Yum yum. Wendy makes delicious (vegan) cookies.)

We got to the expo towards the tail end, but we had enough time to make the rounds.

First off, I was in love with the Luna Bar booth. They had delicious samples everywhere. And, if you could guess their new flavor (after a taste), they’d give you a free bar!

I don’t have the best sense of taste since I can’t really smell. However, I do have a great sense of sight. All you had to get was one ingredient correct and I could see the peanut butter chips on the bar. Ba-bam.

The awesome people at Luna Bar were so sweet, and so pumped about my 52 half marathons in 52 weeks – not only did they give me a free bar, they gave me a free box of bars! I opted for the new chocolate cherry almond ones. Yum, yum, yum.

Sad we have super red eye in this picture, ’cause I’m thinking apart from that there is some cuteness buried in this photo.

I also stopped by the information booth to see if they had any fun secrets. There weren’t any secrets (at least none that I can tell you). Seriously though, there were no secrets. I just wanted to sound cool.

There may not have been any secrets, there were two super sweet women working the information booth. Ellen and I became fast friends. She’s pretty much one of the most adorable people on the planet. (Sage was great as well if you’re wondering about the second woman.)

I loved the vibe of this expo. It was very sweet, kind, and friendly.

It already feels a bit different from a normal race. I don’t want to stereotype women or anything by saying this group is sweeter than a normal group. But there was just a vibe in the room – a nice vibe.

I bet it carries over to the race. We shall see tomorrow.

(Since this is an old blog post that I’m making up, you already know it does in fact carry over.)

(#40) Really Big Free Half Marathon Las Vegas

November 3, 2012

The term “Las Vegas” is used very loosely here.

This race was much farther into Henderson, NV than I’d originally expected. I once worked a show that taped around Vegas and the whole crew stayed in Henderson for a month. So, I knew generally the distance from Henderson to Vegas.

Well, the course map kept changing, and it turned out the race was in a National Park in Lake Mead at Boulder Beach. We passed the old hotel I used to call home for a month (shout out to the Fiesta Henderson!) WAY before we were even close to the race.

I hadn’t planned too much about this race ahead of time. (Sometimes races fall through the cracks a bit as I worry about other races.)

On the Greyhound bus on the way to Vegas, I was checking the website and Facebook to get more info on where I needed to go. I found out how super far away it was, and luckily I was not the only one figuring out travel plans semi-last minute. A bunch of people were talking about travel from Vegas, so I commented on a bunch of posts asking to carpool. I thought it might be too late for anyone to read my pleas, but it didn’t hurt to put them out there.

Sure enough, I actually had three different people call or text to offer me rides in the morning! How incredibly sweet, right?

I rode out there with George and Brenda. They were unbelievably cool and super fun, which made the long drive quite enjoyable.

I ended up walking the race with Penny and Jim. They’ve been married for almost 30 years! They were also crazy fun, and Penny was absolutely hilarious. The race itself was pretty quiet. Hills, hills, hills. Desert, desert, desert. Quiet, quiet, quiet. Until, at one point, we came out from underneath an overpass and there were people on top of the overpass cheering. That was pretty cool.

One of the few spectators in the race stood handing out tissues to people. Apparently a bunch of people feel the need to blow their nose during a race, because I hear people talk about it all the time. And as everyone ran or walked past her, they were saying thank you effusively. People were yelling that she was brilliant. She kind of seemed like the hit of the race.

Once we reached the turnaround, there was a water stop for the full marathoners at the top of the hill past our turnaround. We could see water, but couldn’t go get it unless we wanted to climb yet another hill and add more distance.

Hey, half marathoners… You thirsty? Oh, well, up ahead there’s some – psych!

Speaking of drinking stuff, there were different flavors of Gatorade throughout the course. As a walker, this didn’t bother me too much. But, usually you’re supposed to pick one, tell people what it’s going to be, and allow them to train with it so their body is used to it.

As the day wore on and the sun came out, Penny whipped out sunscreen and shared! It was brilliant of her to bring it along for the ride on a hot day through the desert.

Toward the finish, some girls who we’d been leapfrogging with throughout the race started jogging, passed us, then started walking again. Penny started hilariously grumbling about it, said she thought we could catch them. I agreed. I made a run for it as did Penny and Jim. The girls saw us as we were passing them and picked up the pace as well. My hat flew off in the commotion. (I got it after the finish.)

Sure enough, I crossed the finish line before those girls! Team Penny/Jim/Aurora for the win!

Then I jumped in Wendy and Marty’s RV (yes, the Wendy and Marty of my blog fame – okay, way, way more of their own fame. Anyway, the super sweet sweethearts drove me to Arizona so Wendy and I could get our packets for the next day’s race.

As far as the Really Big Free event goes, I don’t have any strong opinions. Some people said there were 10 safety violations. (That’s just a rumor. I haven’t verified anything. Anyone know anything about that?) Some people loved the race. Some people hated it. I had a lovely 13 miles walk with Jim and Penny.

On to Arizona!

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 30 (The Open-Heart Surgery Chapter)

October 31, 2012

An idea of what I was like after open heart surgery - half woman, half machine.
An idea of what I was like after open heart surgery – half woman, half machine.

It’s Wednesday night , so the story continues.

Picking up from last week –

I changed into a hospital gown, and gave all my stuff to hospital personnel.

I think I had to sign yet another “you may die from this form.” Yep. You might die from anything. We’re good here.

I don’t have anything to say from when I was put under and when I woke up.

Waking up after surgery is weird, right? It’s weird when you wake up and have all these wires and drains sticking out of you. After open-heart surgery, I feel like you’re part-machine, part-human for a bit.

That was something that stood out to me in this little pre-surgery pamphlet they give you – the list of all the millions of things coming out of your body – tubes, wires. (Stiffens hands and arms and starts doing robot moves for you.)

So, I woke up as a bionic woman. I slept a lot in the first day.

Then, I got hooked up to my own morphine machine. I got to control how much medicine I got. I kept that sucker at the max all the time.

Until…

(dum dum dum – scary chords) Wednesday.

Before Wednesday, I was almost lying completely flat in the bed. I don’t know what it was about my stomach – if one of my many new contraptions was coming out of it or what, but it hurt like heck to sit up. That was no doubt the most painful part. I wanted to constantly be flat. Alas, the nurses would not allow that to continue forever.

This is the third and final time I cried in the hospital – the only time I cried from physical pain at Mass Gen. The nurse making me sit up didn’t seem to be too empathetic. “You have a morphine drip.” There is not enough morphine in the world! Though I did just keep pressing the morphine button until I fell asleep.

Speaking of pain, my sternum, baby. My sternum. Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch.

I never realized how much sternums are used until mine was cracked open. When you sneeze, you sort of, a little, are pretty sure you’re gonna die.

Don’t let anyone tell you anything funny while you’re recovering. Laughter hurts just as much.

I didn’t have any visitors, and I was extremely grateful for that. I would’ve been the most uninteresting person in the world. I slept a lot, and that was pretty much the extent of it.

Even though I didn’t have anyone physically there, I of course checked in with my dad by phone. (I really, really appreciated he restraint on respecting what I wanted and not coming to Boston. I love him to pieces, but he can’t put his life on hold for his adult daughter. (Plus, I was oh so tired. I don’t know how I could’ve had the energy to be around more people.))

(I, of course, talked to my high school theater teacher. She’s kind of my rock…)

And I Skyped with Stephen. He was in Greece at the time, which is, I’m sure, why he wasn’t busting in the hospital room, trying to show me how I needed visitors after all. Though, I will say, when he was there in person (in previous hospital stays) – he came bearing gifts of delicious, amazing food.

I so appreciated the McDonald’s and Ben and Jerry’s he had brought in the past. Yum. Of course, I wasn’t super hungry most of the time after open-heart surgery anyway. This time around, I wasn’t missing much.

So, I spent about a week in the hospital. I’ll talk a little more about that, the scar, and more in future posts (including next week‘s).

(#39) Rock ‘n’ Roll Los Angeles – Part 2 (Other Great Things About The Race)

October 30, 2012

Picking up from yesterday –

One thing the people of this race did that was absolutely genius was wear signs that said the flavor of Gu they were giving out. No runners/walkers were confused. It was right there in plain (neon) sight.

Another genius things? They had signs for the smile zone!

I don’t know about you, but I (and usually the people I’m with), like to ham it up for the cameras and try to look like we’re either super fun, super fast, or both.

When someone sees a photographer, they’ll yell out something along the lines of “Photographer to your left coming up!” Everyone will know to speed up and smile (or get their intense look on).

But sometimes you miss the photographers, and by the time they’ve caught your eye, they’ve also caught you sauntering (or worse – checking your phone).

In this race, there were big signs that said, “Smile zone ahead! Get ready to smile!” (There weren’t signs at each point, but even signs at one were a pleasant surprise.)

One insanely exciting thing about this race was that I knew where we were. I am horrendous with directions. I never study course maps. But this was my backyard! Once we turned onto Flower St. – I knew what that meant! I said, “We’re on Flower,” and that actually meant something! I had a great grasp of how much we had left to do for the entire final mile. Yay! (Still can’t get over it, in case you can’t tell.)

At the end of the race, I took about 10 steps and I was home. I decided just to hang out outside and cheer for a bit.

It was so awesomely emotional to cheer for people in their final .05 miles of their half marathon.

This one girl (Brooke) came walking in. As I was saying, “Great job! Look at what you are accomplishing,” I noticed she was crying. I asked if it was her first half marathon. Brooke said yes. I said, “You are one minute away from becoming a half-marathoner.” She started crying harder. Then I started crying. It was so emotional! She was so proud and empowered to be a half-marathoner! Amazing.

Lots of people kept asking, “Is that really the finish? Is that banner really the end?” I thought it was hilarious how often I heard that question. It was awesome to be able to say, “Yes! Look. It’s right there. Seriously. I promise you that’s the end! You are doing this!”

As long as I live in my apartment, I cannot imagine a year in which I don’t do this race again. Be awakened at 6:30am to blaring music outside your window that does not stop for the next 4 1/2 hours, or go run with thousands of your closest friends? The choice seems incredibly clear to me!

See you next year, Rock ‘n’ Roll LA!

(#39) Rock ‘n’ Roll Los Angeles – Part 1 (Fun Strangers, Fun Race)

October 29, 2012

What a difference a day makes!

I was all rargh, rargh, rargh about that race I did yesterday,  but this one was super fun.

First off, the start does not get better than this. It took me about one minute to get to the start line from my apartment. This is the way to do it! Roll out of bed and cross the street.

Within the first mile, I met these three guys that I stayed with for basically the rest of the race.

Bill, Tom, and Paul kept me company and kept me at a nice walking pace.

They were all lawyers (or retired lawyers), and they’d all been married for decades! What do you think are the chances of finding three men (in Southern California!) who’ve all been married for decades? I’m thinking it was more likely that I’d win the lottery or get hit by lightning, so congratulations to those families.

Two of them had four kids, and Tom had two. (Two of them had very nice, fun sounding boys around my age… I’m still waiting for my phone to ring. ;))

Bill had three grandchildren! Can you even believe it? You could make a city out of just the families of those three men – so many kids and grandkids. And I believe that Tom said he had five siblings. What?

Enough about the family trees of strangers.

The point is, the three musketeers kept me on my toes through the whole race, and I was led to a time about 5 minutes faster than yesterday!

Bill – the one with grandchildren, mine you – was kicking butt and taking names. Can we all agree to be incredibly proud of/inspired by him?

I was pumped from the moment I got to the start of this race. I was able to get a fair amount of sleep, and I love those huge races with thousands of people. That’s my scene – not small, not scenic. I like the big parties.

The music, the stage, the multiple starts (one for each corral) – they all just made the race more and more exciting.

One thing I’ve noticed about myself during races that I think is mildly funny, is that sometimes when songs play that sort of annoy me on the radio (due to being overplayed or other reasons) (eg. Gangnam Style), I will love it if it plays anytime after about mile 8. I’ll be dancing around and singing along. If you saw me at any other time, you’d be all, “You don’t even like this song!”

Well, when the energy is up, and endorphins are flying, I do love it. I love them all!

I loved the number of MJ songs that were played during this race (which are, of course, songs I love 24/7 no matter where I am).

There were a number of celebrities running the race – which of course I didn’t find out about until I got home.

Apparently Will Ferrell ran with the Ron Burgundy facial hair.

I have a few other thoughts about the day. I’ll pick up with them tomorrow.

(#38) Healdsburg Wine Country Half Marathon – Part 2 (The Good Stuff Outside Of The Rarghness)

October 28, 2012

Yesterday, I wrote about the miserable part of the race.

Today, let’s focus on all the fun, wonderful stuff surrounding the bad stuff.

I got into Healdsburg around 3am. I walked around the Hyatt lobby (where the shuttle was going to pick everyone up) until I found a chair that seemed kind of out of the way.

I fell asleep assuming no one would notice me, until I woke up to the sound of people talking about me in Spanish. I tried to explain that I was there for the half marathon. They made me move from the secret chair, and to the main lobby.

No one was in the main lobby, so I was hoping no one would notice I was sleeping there. Alas, I woke up again to a security guard, but once I said I was just two hours early for the shuttle, he allowed me to sleep on the lobby couch. Score!

Once I got to the race, I met Jenny – this incredibly joyous girl. She hadn’t done a half marathon in a while, and every single thing was awesome to hear. “Look at all these people! Look at these costume! Look at these bibs!” I adored her incredibly positive, infectious attitude.

I overdressed hardcore in the morning. I thought, “Oh, I’m in Northern California, which actually has weather. It won’t be sweltering like it is in SoCal.” I was incredibly wrong, as I learned while melting under my three shirts as the race wore on.

As I came closer to the water stop around mile 4, I saw this humongous group of incredibly excited people. “Hmm, who’s up there?” I wondered. Of course it was Girls on the Run. I know I mention them all the time, but to see first hand the work being done for girls, and to see the women mentors fostering an attitude of service, kindness, and all that good stuff – it’s awesome.

The girls were so enthusiastic, even to those of us in the back of the pack. They seemed to genuinely believe what they were saying as they cheered, “You’re doing great! You are awesome! You got this!”

I’m glad Girls on the Run exists. I really hope to get involved in their organization next year!

After the race, I got a free massage, which was awesome. And I met an incredibly nice family who drove me to the airport. (Thank you so much Michael and Erica!)

I flew out of the tiniest airport I’ve ever seen (Sonoma County Airport). It was kind of fun, ’cause the full name is the Charles M. Schulz – Sonoma County Airport. It was themed accordingly, and adorably.

(#38) Healdsburg Wine Country Half Marathon – Part 1 (Rargh, Rargh, Rargh Rant)

October 27, 2012

Punished.

I lovingly made fun of my dad in my posts from this past week, and karma got me back. Good one, universe.

Miserable.

This was by far the most miserable half marathon I’ve done. I feel a little weird complaining about it, because I want everyone to know that I love running events. I want people who read my blog to want to do running events, because running events are (generally) awesomely fun.

However, I feel as though I should be honest. Running events are not quite always awesome. You gotta pick the great ones.

I know I’ve light-heartedly complained about a few races before. But this is straight up annoyed, even infuriated at some points. So, if you’re not in the mood for a rant, you’re in for a treat.

Tomorrow I am running Rock ‘n’ Roll Los Angeles, so my strategy today was to jog a little to get a nice head start on the sag wagon, then mainly keep it to the steady 16-minute/mile pace to beat the time limit.

In mile 2, I could see the sag wagon in the distance. It was moving along at the slow pace, and I was daydreaming about how I was going to tell you about walking within view of the wagon, but far enough away not to worry.

THEN – I’m getting mad just thinking about it.

Okay, before I start complaining, let me state for the record that I know that 16-minute miles are quite slow. I know that. But when someone tells you that that’s what you get – that’s what you should get.

Going into mile 3, we started to hear a man over a PA system. “Pick up the pace. You’re not going fast enough.”

I say “we” started to hear it because there were a number of people back there. It wasn’t even close to just being me alone.

The wagon sped way up, pretty much catching up to where I was.

Hey man, I did my first two miles in about 13 and 15. And I am definitely keeping at least a 16-minute-mile pace. You know who needs to get off my back? You do.

At first being chased was a little bit fun, using the frustration to propel me, pretending I had to escape for my life (although I don’t know what’s prete about that). Being chased got progressively got less fun, though.

The race started late. Apparently there was not much wiggle room in the permits, so the rest of the race consisted of the sag wagon bullying the back-of-the-pack walkers.

I had two miles in there between 13 and 14 minutes, and I still felt super rushed.

There were a few people behind me who were struggling hardcore.

Some people got on the sag wagon who I don’t believe would’ve otherwise.

Those of us who were able to continue were infuriated. You can’t push our pace like this! 1 – 3 minutes a mile in a distance race is humongous.

My understanding is that someone went to talk to someone from the caravan of vehicles. Apparently, they totally admitted that because of the late start they were rushing people to 15-minute miles or faster.

The sag wagon, or police officer, or whoever was in charge back there did a horrible job of keeping any kind of steady pace.

They’d settle into something slow. I’d run ahead to try and get them at a comfortable distance. All of a sudden, we’d hear them revving up engines, and they’d speed forward, covering most of any distance we had gained. “Pick up your pace.” “Slow down your pace! Slow your freaking roll, please.”

They finally left us alone around mile 9. I finished the race out mainly with 20-ish minute miles. I was exhausted. It was sweltering. And I was infuriated by the stress they’d put me under, and by the injustice of seeing these people quitting because they couldn’t keep up a 14-minute mile pace. They didn’t train for that!

If you want people to do a 3:00 or 3:15, make that the rule!

Rargh, rargh, rargh.

Tomorrow, I’ll talk about everything to do with this race that doesn’t have to do with this horrible horribleness.

Rock ‘n’ Roll Los Angeles Expo

October 26, 2012

I already love this race – mainly ’cause it’s all taking place about ten feet from where I live.

Before I rocked on down to the airport tonight (for a Healdsburg Wine Country race tomorrow), I walked out of my apartment and hit the expo.

This expo seemed surprisingly smaller than usual, but perhaps we were just in a bigger hall space than normal.
I loved the Halloween theme with ghosts and skeletons around.
Some new things that I haven’t already mentioned/seen at other RnR expos were:
The AT&T lounge. You could kick back and watch TV in style. (They were giving you an idea of the living room you could win.)
I also noticed a “Rock ‘n’ Roll Sports Medicine” table. I don’t know if this was the first time they had it, or the first time I’d noticed, but there was a doctor hanging out all day to help if you had any questions about nutrition, injuries, race preparation – whatever kind of health/race things people might have questions about.
AT&T booth

There was also a skin care booth! Brilliant. That is brilliant. Why do I not see more skin care booths around? There are thousands of people walking around this place who are in the sun all the time and often have messy feet (that are in desperate need of some help). Of course we all need skin care! Brilliant, I’m telling you. I hope/bet they did tremendous business all weekend.

(Luck would have it that as I’m trying to love all over this booth, I can’t find remember the name of their product… but it made my hands silky smooth.) (Unfortunately, I did not buy any because I’m in “Save every penny for race travel and charity donations mode” through the end of these 52 in 52, but it was an amazing product, and I want some.)
I met Becky Reese, an incredibly nice woman running her own booth, who offered to send me free clothes and shoes once she heard my story! Thank you kindly, Becky! (I’m sure they’ll be more on her and her clothes once I get them in the mail. Just in case you didn’t see the link to her website on her name (’cause I know there’s some weird coloring going on in my layout), you can check her and her products out by clicking here.
I think that wraps it up! Time to fly to wine country.

(#37) Nationwide Children’s Hospital Columbus Half Marathon – Part 3 (Other Fun Race Things)

October 25, 2012

a spectator at the Nationwide Children's Hospital Columbus Half Marathon 2012 holding a sign that says "Pain is temporary, quitting is forever"

We’ve heard all about my dad, but what were some fun things about the race besides him?

First off, A+ on creativity, Columbus. The signs here were awesome.

In many races, people have a tendency to say, “You’re almost there!” way early – around miles 4 – 6. Runners I know like to lovingly complain about. They’re happy for the support… But we’re nowhere near “almost” there.

Well, in Ohio, I saw “You’re NOT almost there” signs at a couple different places. I loved the people who brought those, and I cracked up every time I saw one.

Someone had a sign by the end(/start) of a turnaround that said “shortcut.” Hilarious.

I adored a sign that said this is “the least polarizing race of election season!” How great is that?

There were some of the old favorites, such as “Pain is Temporary, Quitting is Forever” (or “Pain is Temporary, Pride is Forever”).

There were Patient Champions – kids receiving treatment at Nationwide Children’s Hospital – at almost every mile. (Mile 12 was called the Angel Mile as a tribute to the children who’d passed away.)

At every mile marker, there was a huge party with families and supporters for the child of that mile. Runners were giving high-fives to the kids and their families.

6 miles in? I thought I already started!

At one point during the run, I heard, “Aurora?” I turned around, and Ashley one of my friends from high school was running with her mom! How awesome, right?

One odd thing about the race was that there was a second start line, I want to say somewhere around mile 6-ish. When I saw that, I looked at my dad and said, “I don’t know what I’m starting now! I’m pretty sure we already started a half marathon a long time ago.” I still have no idea what that start line was for. If you were there and you know, please feel free to let me know!

There were people on the sidelines doing the ol’ “OH -” “- IO” cheer. If you are not from there and don’t watch college sports, it’s possible that you don’t know what I’m talking about. But, it was very Ohio, and very fun.

This race had by far the biggest trash cans I’ve seen at any race (possibly in my life). Way to plan!

I had such a rad time visiting. The race treated me so well. The race director, social media team, volunteers, and everybody involved did an amazing job for us all.

(And a non-race-specific, but general Ohio sentiment: I loved seeing some people I love and visiting restaurants I miss. (Almost every meal while I was out there was Planet Smoothie… I love is SO much!))

I hope to come back next year for the full marathon!

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 29 (The Pre-Op (Op Being Open-Heart Surgery) Chapter)

October 24, 2012

Photo Credit: Childrenshospital.org/arthur/ (A super cute guide for kids who are going to have surgery at Children's Hospital Boston)
Photo Credit: Childrenshospital.org/arthur/ (A super cute guide for kids who are going to have surgery at Children’s Hospital Boston)

It’s Wednesday night, so the heart story continues.

Picking up from last week –

So, I went on living my life in February and March doing as much schoolwork ahead of time as possible.

On March 12, 2010, I had my Big Ol’ Pre-op Appointment. (That’s how I referred to it in my calendar.) I think I called it that because they told me I would be there for a huge chunk of the day.

I don’t remember all of it, but I had to see different people in different departments. They did some mental tests. Do I know answers to questions? (i didn’t know what county we were in. I was like “who knows the county?” But I got all the other ones correct. Could I touch my nose?

This brain-test stuff was, I guess, used as a baseline in case we had any problems after the surgery. They could know that we were never smart enough to know what county the hospital was in.

Also, the (physician’s assistant?) asked me to raise my eyebrows. This was actually somewhat hilarious because I’d been working hard on trying to make facial expressions with as few wrinkles as possible. (I want to be like a Simpsons character – as much expression with as few lines as possible. (That’s how people describe drawing them in commentaries and stuff.)

(Granted, I don’t try to control my forehead quite as much any more. Maybe that’s a good thing, maybe it’s a bad thing. Either way…)

Catapulting back to 2010, the PA asked me to raise my eyebrows. I thought I was. She said I was just opening my eyes wider. I’d definitely trained so hard to not move my forehead that I’d forgotten how that whole mechanism worked! Sorry, doctor, this is the best I can do.

I’m sure that embarrassing tidbit is in my chart.

(If anyone’s wondering if that’s maybe a story to cover up Botox injections – I will be the first person to let you know when I get Botox. (I have not had any.) And I will put it off for as long as humanly possible. (By “human,” I mean “L.A. resident.”))

I also had my neck looked at that day. Doctors look for signs to tell them if you have some heart disease that’s in a bad stage (or something like that). I didn’t have any problems in my neck.

I think I also filled out a bunch of paperwork that day, got instructions with special pre-surgery soap, got my blood tested. I pretty much became best friends with everyone at the hospital is what I’m saying.

The week before my surgery, I went to Portland for my last big hurrah on America’s Got Talent. (I was back in May It wasn’t a big deal.)

The crew gave me this cute t-shirt I’d been eyeing during the whole tour. They gave me one I could wear, and one signed by everyone with loving messages. It was sweet of them.

When I got back from Portland, it was time.

I cleaned my apartment, stocked up on groceries, and prepared to take care of myself.

I used the special soap, packed up my computer and anything I felt I needed for a week-long stay in the hospital.

Off I went to Mass General.

If I remember correctly, and I could be completely mistaken, I think got there super early. I don’t remember why. Maybe I was afraid I’d sleep in. Maybe I just couldn’t sleep, but was ready to get out of my apartment. Either way, I’m pretty sure I ended up hanging out in the lobby, surfing the internet at 4:30am or something like that.

Before you knew it, time to go under!

This is where I’ll pick up next week.

(#37) Nationwide Children’s Hospital Columbus Half Marathon – Part 2 (Oh Yeah, We’re Still Talking About My Dad)

October 22, 2012

Yesterday, I left off in mile 12.

There was this couple who’d been walking right around my dad and I since one of the early miles. Sometimes they were in front of us, sometimes we were in front of them.

My dad is ultra-competitive. (I know I am too about certain things. He is my dad, after all.) We had been ahead of this couple for the last few miles. As soon as they caught up, I was ready to zip off to the finish. My dad was over it. I was shocked. (You may be underestimating how super-competitive he is.)

But he just explained it away. “We’re not sure exactly what time they started. Who knows if we’d be truly beating them or not. Who knows if they’re truly beating us or not.”

Yes, those thoughts were pretty true thoughts. But when you’ve been sort of racing someone for 8 or 9 miles, you’re racing them – no matter what time you each precisely started.

We let them pass us, and we walked to the end. We jogged out part of the very, very end once we could see the finish line.

I will give my dad credit that he didn’t sit immediately after the finish line.

However, he was walking like a zombie though the little post-runner area. He just kept asking me if we could turn around. I kept explaining, “We’re fenced in. You have to walk to the end of this area. Just get your food and things.”

“But the car’s that way.” “I know, Daddy. But if you just turn around, all you’re going to do is make it back to the finish line. And we just came from there.” “But the car’s that way.” “Yes, Daddy, I know…”

We did make it to the end of the line of food and medals and things. And right as we were about to get out of the fenced area, he said, “I’m just gonna sit here for a minute.” I told him I was going on a quest for free massages.

I met up with my mom and we went over to the building with free massages. Eventually, as we waited, my dad called. He’d made it about 30 feet right outside of the runner area toward one of the tents. We told him to walk an additional 50 feet and he could get a free massage. “Nah, I’m good.”

I hope you can feel and understand while reading this exactly how hilarious these conversations were with him, ’cause I’m seriously trying to coax him like a child. (Super nice, soft voice: Really, if you can come 50 feet, you can have a free massage! Don’t you think that’ll make you feel all better?” Daddy in his super stubborn voice: “I don’t wanna!” “I can come walk with you if you want. We’re really just about 50 feet away from you. You can do 50 feet.” “I don’t wanna!!!”)

Well, okay then. We just let him continue to wait. I got my free massage. (Yay!) And eventually, we walked (some of us hobbled) back out to the car.

For anyone wondering, we did get our sub-3:30 time with a time of 3:26:29! One of the awesome things about this half marathon was that I had an email before I even got to the car thanking me for running and giving me my actual time in the email. (It didn’t give me a link to go check it out or anything, just right there – “Dear Aurora…” straight in the text of the email. A+ job on that, Cbus marathon. (This is the first distance race I’ve done that’s done that for me.)

I looked at my dad after we’d made it past the finish line and said, “We did it!” He didn’t seem to care too much about anything other than sitting.

For the record, I think it’s great to push yourself. I think it is great to feel that at the end you’ve given everything you’ve got. The thing that makes my dad so hilarious is not that he awesomely pushes himself – it’s that he is incredibly dramatic about it.

He’s always acting like the race is the easiest thing or like we are actually going to fall over dead. There is no in-between (which is not that surprising I suppose, since I am his daughter).

Also for the record, I truly think it’s hilarious. I make fun of him out of love. He cracks me up all race long! And I love that.

I’ll talk tomorrow about the awesome time we had throughout the race – the course, the people, ambiance – all that great stuff.

(#37) Nationwide Children’s Hospital Columbus Half Marathon – Part 1 (Lovingly Making Fun Of Daddy)

October 21, 2012

My dad is one of the most hilarious people I know. He’s given me permission to make fun of him a bit in this post, so get excited for that.

The Nationwide Children’s Hospital Columbus Half Marathon went off with a boom. (Seriously, whatever fireworks or gun or what was going off shook the ground (and all of us to our very cores).)

I don’t know if you remember my dad’s first race – the hilarious (and amazing) OneAmerica 500 Festival Mini-Marathon in Indianapolis, but my dad went from quite confident at mile 4 to a stubborn acting like a stubborn 5-year-old at the end.

I cannot believe that I left out my favorite part of that story from that blog entry which was:

Right after the finish, my dad sat down. I said, “Daddy, daddy. It’s not time to sit down yet. You have to keep moving after a race. You have to get your medal. You have to get food.” That was the real 5-year-old moment, when he said “I don’t want a medal! I don’t want food!”

It was hilarious. It may not be quite as hilarious to you just reading it. I may need to act it out for you. But trust me when I say it was so incredibly funny.

For this race, he vowed that things would be different. He started training a lot harder, and I’m truly am very proud of the work he did.

In Indiana, his only goal was to finish – which we did in 3:51:07. The goal this time was a 3:30 (which is still a huge improvement). (Technically, he kept saying the goal was 3:40, but I’d heard him say 3:30 a couple of times, and I know my competitive father. I knew that 3:30 was the real-life goal.)

This is the part where my dad gets so funny. He wants to go faster at the beginning to build a “buffer zone” for our time.

I don’t completely disagree with that strategy. I have absolutely taken that strategy before. I’ve had it work well when I know how fast I am capable of going in the beginning, and I’ve been dead by mile 10 or 11 before because I go faster than what I’m really capable of in the beginning.

The strategy itself is not flawed, but you have to execute it right to work for you.

My dad was raring to go in the beginning. We jogged together until we reached the half mile marker. (This was the first time I’d seen a marker for the first half mile, which I thought was cool.) Then we slowed to a walk. But we did a little jogging, a little walking here and there, until we caught up to the 3:15 pacers. He wanted to stay with them through the first 5k. We had already started out faster than we should’ve been going just to catch them. (They crossed the start line before us.)

I felt that we were not going at a sustainable pace for the rest of the race, and I convinced him to slow down a little. I tried to explain that we had a number of miles left, and we’re going to want some steam by the end.

So, we slow down a little. Things are going pretty well. And of course as we get closer to double-digit miles, he starts running out of steam. He’s still doing pretty well around mile 11. As soon as we hit mile 12, he is so over it.

“Are we done yet? I want to go home. Are we done yet?”

I’m trying to convince him to jog out the final mile, or maybe the final half mile, but it is so not happening.

This is where I’ll pick up tomorrow.

Tweet Up and Expo for the Nationwide Children’s Hospital Columbus Half Marathon

October 20, 2012

Darris, the race director, talking at the Tweet Up

I love the Nationwide Children’s Hospital Columbus Half Marathon. I love it. And I haven’t even run it yet!

They are so awesome with their outreach and social media. There was a special “Tweet Up” today where anyone who saw the event on Twitter or Facebook could come hang out and sit indian style with the race director and other runners, and just talk about the big day.

Darris – the race director – amazes me! He knew the answer to every question without having to think about any of them.

He knew the best places for spectators, the exact number of port-a-potties. He knew the best roads to drive in on in the morning, exactly what would food would be served at the end. He knew the course backward and forward. He knew every detail with no notes and no hesitation.

You could tell that he genuinely cared about making the race the absolute best it could be.

He stressed to us that he loves feedback, and after we run, he wants to hear about anything they could do better. Someone brought up some concerns from last year (port-a-potties and food), and he could quickly rattle off all the improvements they made after getting feedback, so I trust that he (and the rest of the race staff) really listens.

And they really think about every detail. There are shuttles for spectators to watch their runners go through the stadium, and then get down to the finish line. There are free gloves and free breakfast vouchers for runners and spectators who get there early.

The people behind the Nationwide Children’s Hospital Half Marathon seem to really have thought of everything for everyone – not just the runners, but the runners’ friends and family.

So, we all became bffs at the Tweet Up, and then it was time to rock the expo.

I stayed for hours talking to everyone. There were a bunch of sweet people and sweet events they were promoting  – stair climbs, relay races. I want to come back to Ohio every weekend!

Raising Cane’s Chicken Fingers had a booth that gave out stickers, and if you wore one through the finish line, you got a free box combo after the race! What? The world is being Nelson Muntz to me right now. “Ha ha, you’re a vegetarian!” Rargh.

Oh well. Every runner gets free Chipotle! I can happily eat as a vegetarian/vegan there, thank you very much.

 There was a fun booth by a new company – Road Head Athletics – that had mohawks and such attached to headbands that you could wear as you run. The people at that booth were really fun (as was the headgear).

There was a Girls on the Run booth. We all know how much I love them. They asked if I’d ever thought about being a mentor/coach person. It had never even dawned on me that that would even maybe be something possible for me, but I would love it! I love the idea of empowering young women through running. That is going to be one of the first things I look into once these 52 half marathons in 52 weeks are over.

The best part of the whole expo was that at 12:30, I reported to the hallway for a drawing for a gift card. (You had to be present to have a chance of winning.)

Once they called the first name, I looked around to see a person waving his hand and smiling. As I looked to my right, standing one person away from me, was an absolutely amazing friend of mine who I’d gone to high school with! I freaked out! He freaked out as well. Huge hugs commenced.

Wonderful expo, awesome Tweet Up, lovely day. I’m ready to rock this race with my dad tomorrow!

Spirit Award! (With the Nationwide Children’s Hospital Columbus Half Marathon)

October 19, 2012

The excitement in the room at the VIP Cocktail Reception was palpable. What a fun night!

Former Mayor Lashutka spoke. The race director spoke. The people who’d run this race for the past 32 years (ever since its inception) were honored. Six high school cross-country athletes received scholarships (sponsored by Chipotle).

There was an ambassador program in which some Columbus residents went over run the Dresden Marathon (in Germany). And we had Dresden residents, who’ll be running our race, at the reception.

Did you know that the same person has been in charge of the security of this marathon for the past 32 years? He got honored with a replica of the same award given to the winners of the marathon.

The Nationwide Children’s Champions were honored. 25 patients have been chosen – one for every mile except the Angel Mile. They get to theme their miles, and they’ll be out there at the race cheering.

Speaking of people who got honored, I was there as a Spirit Award winner. (What, what?)

10 people (okay 11 – ’cause one was a couple) were picked because our “inspirational stories embody perseverance and strength.” (That makes me sound pretty cool, right?)

Before the reception started, right after we got our packets.

I didn’t even know until tonight that along with our award, we get $100! Thank you, Chipotle (who also sponsored our awards)!

There was this rocking video we all got to watch, talking about the history and positive impact of this marathon/half marathon. Over the years, it’s raised over $154,000,000 for the economy out here.

All the stats were given about the number of people who qualify for Boston, and various rankings of this marathon in various places.

It was a really cool night. It was great to see all these people with such joy and to see people who’d accomplished so many different and cool things. All the speeches and the videos got me super pumped up! I was ready to throw off my heels, and go run 13.1 right now!

So far, I love everything about this race. I love the people who’ve been communicating with me about the Spirit Award and this special reception. I love their social media team who’s been keeping runners excited for months. I loved the reception tonight. I love it all. I am beyond excited for this race… on Sunday.

(Tomorrow, I’ll talk about the expo.)

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 28 (The Consultation and Small Breakdown Chapter)

October 17, 2012

I think this is a picture of one of those machines that pumps the blood when your heart isn't doing it.)(Photo Credit: FirstHeartNorth.com)
I think this is a picture of one of those machines that pumps the blood when your heart isn’t doing it.)
(Photo Credit: FirstHeartNorth.com)

It’s Wednesday night, so the heart story continues.

Continuing my saga –

I had a consultation with my heart surgeon in January.

Since I had a very rare defect, I got the Chief of Cardiac Surgery on my case. (Boo-yah.) Dr. Vlahakes is a lovely surgeon. He’s personable and funny. He really takes time to make sure all of his patients are comfortable, and that we understand what’s happening. He had models of the heart and drew me a great picture of it all. He told me about his kids. We had a lovely time.

I don’t remember if it was at this appointment or at a different time, but I was talking with one of the doctors about the fact that my heart would be stopped and I thought it was hilarious conversation.

“So, you’re going to stop my heart?”

“Well, the blood will be still be circulating.”

“Okay, but my heart will be stopped?”

“The blood in your body will keep circulating through a machine.”

“But my physical heart itself will stop beating, yes?”

I never did just get a straight yes to that. I won’t credit Dr. Vlahakes with dodging the question, ’cause I can’t remember if it was him or not. I think it took place in the hospital, so I’m gonna go ahead and say I think it was a different doctor.

Going back for one second to my hospital stays leading up to open-heart surgery for two tidbits I forgot.

I think I said earlier in this story that I didn’t cry all that much while in the hospital and that is true. I can only remember three instances of crying throughout the whole thing. (Perhaps I am remember myself in a better light than what really happened, but I think there were three.)

1) The time I cried in pain from my ulcer. (That one’s already been mentioned.)
3) A time after open-heart surgery (which we will get to).

And the second time I cried was this one.

After I found out I was going to have open-heart surgery, and while I was still in the hospital for the procedure before that, I heard from my family that I was going to get a cavalcade of people.

No, no, no, no, no. That’s not acceptable. I can’t handle it. I cannot.

I had certain family members being extremely insistent. I put that on lock down immediately.

I started saying things such as “I can’t prevent you from coming to Boston, but I am allowed to put my room on a no visitor’s list, and I promise you I will do it.”

Commence breakdown. No one was listening to me. Some people thought the best way to treat a sick person was their way of treating a sick person – which was to be all up in the sick person’s space.

One of the hospital social workers even came and talked to me… Oh boy. I was crying a fair amount. I accidentally scared my doctor ’cause she thought something was physically wrong. All the stress just flooded me at once.

Again, not upset that I had to have surgery – upset at all the stress that results from being a patient.

(Photo Credit: Zazzle.com)
(Photo Credit: Zazzle.com)

People did eventually cool off, stand down, and everyone agreed to respect my wishes! (dances) No one came to visit me. And truly, I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. I wouldn’t have been able to handle having anyone else there. But we’ll get to all that post open-heart surgery stuff soon.

One last note about pre-surgery stuff before I forget – hospitals are always asking for your religion when you’re admitted. This is so a minister, rabbi, etc. can come talk to you. (They explained that to me when I was curious about it.)

One of the weeks when I was in the hospital, I was all, “Send in anybody who wants to talk to me! I love learning new things about the world around me – that includes religions. This could be fun and pass the time.”

I didn’t really learn anything new. They’re not there to teach so much as they are to comfort. So, it was sort of a bust in that sense. It was also slightly embarrassing in a time when Stephen was visiting and a Rabbi came to say hello. Stephen kind of looked at me. Yeah…. um, I’m not Jewish. I just wanted to make new friends with this Rabbi…

Awkward.

The Rabbi was very nice though.

(The story continues next week.)

How Do You Afford 52 Half Marathons in 52 Weeks, Aurora?

October 16, 2012

Homer Simpson and Mr. Burns looking at trillionThis is the question I get the most frequently, so I thought it was time to do a blog post about it.

For one thing, I’ve been extremely lucky. I’ve had fellow racers and some blog followers give me rides and places to stay. That has been incredibly helpful, and I am so grateful for all of that kindness.

I’ve also had some awesome race directors give me free or discounted race entries. (I haven’t gotten a ton of those, but even a few are awesome in comparison to none.)

I’ve been given buddy passes here and there for flights, which have been incredibly helpful. And, I do the things you’d expect people doing a lot of traveling and racing to do – I’m always on the lookout for discount codes. I use frequent flyer miles – all that good stuff.

As far as where I save places in my day-to-day life:

I got a sweet, sweet deal on my apartment, and I have two roommates, making my rent unbelievable. (That means that in Los Angeles, people don’t have the ability to believe that it’s so low. In non-big-cities, it’s still slightly unbelievable that I’d pay this much to live with two other people.)

I don’t have a car! (That one’s huge.) I know most people think this is impossible in L.A.
It’s Inconvenient for sure, but I’m surviving! That means no car payments, gas, parking, tickets, maintenance, or insurance.

Speaking of insurance, I’m still on my parents’ health insurance. (Thanks, Obama!) So, no extra bill there.

I thought that I was going to have some amazing blog post that uncovered all of my secrets. But I guess it’s all pretty simple.

I don’t have a significant other, or kids, or anything. There’s no one I’m spending money on but me (for the most part – I still get gifts for friends sometimes, and I still give to charities and things, but I am not the main responsible party for any other human beings).

I work in television, so while I’m certainly not rich, that kind of work affords me the ability to do things I love – such as this crazy 52 in 52 adventure.

So, I guess those are all my big secrets – cut down on my day-to-day expenses, and happily accept the hospitality of friends and family when I’m in their city (or when we’re traveling to the same city).

At the end of the challenge, I will tally up how much everything cost, so it will not be a secret.

Sorry if this post was a let down! If it wasn’t specific enough, and you have more questions, you can always feel free to comment or <a href=”mailto:WriteToAurora@gmail.com”>email me</a>.

The 13.10 Challenge!

October 15, 2012

I’m throwing down the gauntlet, y’all! Challenge issued!

Note: The challenge deadline may have passed, but it is not too late to give!

(Update video to come soon!)

(To see WHY I’m running 52 in 52 for marriage equality, click here)

[wpvideo V1gi9nBV]

(Go here to donate. (http://www.broadwaycares.org/Aurora))

if you’d rather read than watch a video, then keep on reading!

I am so excited to announce my “13.10 Challenge!”! It’s time to start pushing to raise some money for marriage equality, and I really want (and need) you to be a part of it!

You know how a half marathon is 13.1 miles long, well…

For the next 13 days! –

if 1310 people to give $13.10 (or more!), I will give a mix of 1310 dollars/volunteer hours to Broadway Impact and other pro-LGBT organizations.

I’ll give $900 to my fundraising page, and I will pledge 410 hours of volunteer work to be given to pro-LGBT groups such as Broadway Impact, Human Rights Campaign, TieTheKnot.Org, GLAAD – pretty much any great organization that I can help (and that can use me/will take me)!

AND, I will be sending out loving care packages to everyone who:

a) Donates $13.10 or more to my page fundraising for Broadway Impact – an awesome organization fighting for marriage equality. Donate here. (http://www.broadwaycares.org/Aurora)

b) Subscribes to this blog! (www.AuroraIsBlogging.com)

What’s in these loving care packages, you ask? A love note, of course. And who knows what else? There may be candy, or a CD, or a video, or a keychain, or a gift card, or it could just be a big whammy! You’ll never know if you don’t give $13.10 or more in the next 13 days!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Aurora De Lucia jumping in the air at the finish of the Atlantic City April Fools Half MarathonTo recap:

1) If 1310 people give $13.10 (or more) in the next 13 days, I will give 1310 of my own dollars/hours towards equality.

2) Give $13.10 or more in the next 13 days, and subscribe to this blog – get a loving care package.

Please, please, please, lovely people, click here to donate now! (http://www.broadwaycares.org/Aurora)

Then, SHARE this link with everyone you know. Let’s make this happen!

Thank you!

xoxo
-Aurora

(I gave $13.10! Will you?)

A Mini-Guide to the Greyhound Bus (And a Side Story From My Ride This Past Weekend)

October 14, 2012

Joey wearing all of Chandler's clothes on Friends
Still possibly not enough layers for the Greyhound bus.

As a frequent rider of the Greyhound bus, I thought I’d drop a little Greyhound knowledge in case any of you need it.

1) Always bring a blanket. Always. Maybe even a parka and 8 pairs of pants and socks (to wear all at once of course). Greyhound buses are cold. You will thank yourself for being prepared.

2) Always bring food and a large (full) water bottle (or two). You don’t know how often you’ll stop. And when you do, you may have extremely limited food options.

If you want to feel good and not live off of sugar/fried foods during your time on the bus, bring a supply of Cliff bars.

3) Get there early. I don’t know if you know this (I had a rude awakening on my first Greyhound trip a long, long time ago) – they will happily oversell each bus if there is a demand.

You are not guaranteed a seat on your bus. It is first come, first serve. If the bus fills up and you’re not on it, you have to wait until the next bus comes – which could be hours later.

Depending on how far you’re going, this could mess up layovers and such. This “always come early” rule is directly related to rule #4, which is…

4) If you are riding an “Express” bus, rule 3 does not apply to you! Did you know that? ‘Cause I didn’t learn it until this weekend.

I got to the Greyhound station in Los Angeles two hours early – which was a complete and total waste of time, because you are guaranteed on a spot on the express bus for your scheduled trip. There are boarding numbers and everything. It’s almost like flying.

Greyhound tries to make it as posh of an experience as Greyhound can be. There’s a special roped off waiting area in many stations. They roll out a little red carpet in the express aisles. There are electrical outlets on the bus. It’s not too shabby. So if you can take express, I recommend you do it.

If you have any other Greyhound bus things that you feel people should know when taking the bus, feel free to let me know!

For now, I’ll leave you with this story from my Greyhound bus experience this past weekend.

We had all picked our seats. I was lucky enough to have a whole two-seat row to myself. Everyone was going to sleep. The bus took off. I had straight up fallen asleep. And I have no idea how much later – could’ve been two minutes, could’ve been two hours – the man across the aisle from me wakes me, and in a very rushed manner tells me to give him the seat next to me.

(Photo Credit: Boston.com)

I don’t know what’s going on, but I groggily wake up and give him the window seat.

And he sits large. He continues sitting larger and larger as the ride goes on. For the next (what seems like a) billion years, we go on this cycle. He pushes further into my personal space, which wakes me up as I get pushed to the edge of my seat into the aisle. I ask him to please scoot back over. He says he can’t speak English very well. I make gestures with my hands asking him to scoot over. He offers to let me just lay in his lap. Uh, no thanks, sir. He gets back into his personal space. I fall back asleep to be woken up a bit later by the invasion of my personal space again.

Once this happens two or three times and I realize it’s a pattern, I move to where he had been sitting before he captured my window seat. I end up by a very lovely man. We each take up the normal amount of space, don’t bother each other, and both get to sleep.

Perhaps the large-sitter’s plan all along was to chase me away. As soon as I left, he laid down across the two seats. Well, he can have them. I got sleep. He got sleep. The guy next to me got sleep. All three of the people involved in seat-swap got sleep. So, I say it’s a victory for everyone, even if I was chased away from my original seat.

The end.

p.s. When I was making small talk at the Greyhound station with the man who let me use his phone charger, I asked about his trip. He said he was in California for court. I asked how it went. He said, “Not well. I was convicted of manslaughter.” If you ever want to experience a lot of different characters – get on a Greyhound bus. There’s enough there for maybe 10 new plays – in one trip.

(#36) OktobeRun Half Marathon

October 13, 2012

There was a huge delay on the BART this morning, so I arrived at the half marathon at 7:59. (The start time was 8am!)

Luckily (for me), the race started over 10 minutes late. I had time to grab my bib and drop off my bag.

As I waited at the start, I could’ve sworn I saw Endorphin Dude, but he was cape-less, and wasn’t surrounded by people taking his photos. It couldn’t be him.

I saw him later on the course. (He was on his way back from the turnaround; I was going toward it. (He was very far head of me.)) He shouted out my name, and gave me a quick hug. It was Endorphin Dude (Tony) after all!

He was going incognito to focus on only one thing – getting a PR (which he did)!

I jogged a bit in the first couple of miles, which was really fun. I looked down and saw the ground going by. There’s really something special about jogging, but I reverted to walking for a very large part of the race (trying to save myself for Ohio and some upcoming doubles).

After I switched to walking, I fell further toward the back of the pack. Those of us bringing up the caboose we’re pretty spread out.

I had a long stretch for a couple of miles where I didn’t see anyone. I was alongside of the highway (safely behind a very tall fence on a pavement path). I took advantage of that loudness and alone-ness, and sang my heart out.

I started rotating through some great musical theater songs, giving all the emotional eyes and everything as I sang along to Spelling Bee (my absolute favorite show) and more (such as Dreamgirls, Gypsy, and all that good stuff).

Before I got halfway through the race, it started to get pretty hot outside. My poor face that isn’t covered by my hat or sunglasses has been taking a brutal beating lately.

I ripped of my overshirt, pinned the bib onto the shirt I was wearing beneath it, and wrapped the shirt around my hat to block out more sun. (In case I didn’t already look crazy enough belting out showtunes, I’m sure this look screamed “there’s definitely a normal girl inside that belting shirt cocoon.”)

My cheeks are thanking me. They stayed nice and cool in the shirt cocoon.

Once I started to get toward the end of the race, people were already starting to pick up cones. I got a little confused on where I was to go, but I found my way.

At the end, there was Tony (Endorphin Dude) waiting for me!

He asked if he could give me a ride anywhere. How amazing is that? I didn’t even have to navigate the public transportation back to San Francisco. Then he asked if I wanted to have lunch somewhere.

Sure, that’d be great!

He started asking about what kind of food I wanted. I sheepishly said, “Um, I’m a vegetarian for now, ’cause I’m in this challenge. And I’m not allowed to have dairy today…”

He excitedly said, “I’m a vegetarian!”

Yay! I’m so glad I wasn’t a bother. We went to this delicious salad place.

(He even treated me to lunch. A ride to the greyhound station and a free lunch? This is first class, gold star treatment here, baby!)

We talked for a while. I loved hearing his stories about ultra-running. He’s a fun, interesting, lovely guy. It was an excellent afternoon!

Why Broadway Impact, Specifically?

October 11, 2012

co-founders of Broadway Impact
Co-founders of Broadway Impact. Left to right: Rory O’Malley, Gavin Creel, Jenny Kanelos
(Photo Credit: BroadwayImpact.Com)

There are a number of organizations standing up for marriage equality. Why did I choose Broadway Impact, specifically?

I’ll start with how one of Broadway Impact’s founders affected my life.

Last year (June, 2011) I worked on Broadway Bares XXI – the 21st year of this huge, amazing, yearly charity event supporting Broadway Cares/Equity Fights Aids.

I was honored to work on it two years in a row. My job last year was to take care of David Hyde Pierce. (I know, I’m so cool, right?)

(For anyone wondering, DHP is the lowest-maintenance, kindest, most lovely person I have ever had the joy of working with. I totally want to be like him when I grow up.)

Getting to why this matters, Rory O’Malley shared a dressing room with David Hyde Pierce. I talked to Rory a bit about Spelling Bee and other things. Rory is hilarious and lovely, and the kind of person you want to be friends with.

We became Facebook friends (and we have some mutual real-life friends). Rory became the person who encouraged me to get hands-on in the fight for marriage equality.

I remember when we (New Yorkers) were fighting to pass the Marriage Equality Act there. Through Rory, I heard about (and went to) a rally in Albany. There, I met a bunch of amazing people giving tons of time, energy, money – anything they could – to make sure we got Equality passed into law.

After the rally, I phone-banked (with someone I met on the bus). I made fun friends, and I added to the voices of people asking New Yorkers to stand up for what’s right.

(Not the bus/really I went on/to, but you get the idea.)
(Photo Credit: BroadwayImpact.com)

I was proud of myself (and everyone around me) that we were taking action!

I was happy to, for the first time in my life, be doing more than just saying “Yeah, I support that.”

Don’t get me wrong. Voicing your opinion is important. Social media is powerful Wearing buttons, stickers, and things, and being vocal is totally awesome. It is helpful. It’s way better than silence. And I would never want to put down anything anyone is doing in the fight for what they believe in.

But, this new adventure of doing even more than that was exhilarating. I was happy to feel that I was doing something tangible to facilitate change. I was a teeny itsy bitty bit part of a huge movement, but to know I was any part at all means a ton to me.

I will never forget watching the State Senate feed on June 24th with bated breath. That night, same-sex marriage in New York was signed into law. It was the greatest birthday/leaving New York present I could’ve asked for. While it was pretty devastating to be moving to California, I couldn’t have left on a higher note.

Getting back to Rory, I will always be thankful that I met him. He helped nudge me on a path to being a better, more proactive person. (I still have a long way to go, but I like to think I’m on the right path.)

It might be a little cliché to talk about someone “making me be a better me.” Plus, it’s a little silly, ‘cause I’m just some girl. I’m not Rory’s bff, or anything. But I found him inspiring, electric, excited, and he added to my life.

Rory being awesome.
(Photo Credit: BroadwayImpact.com)

I thought, “If this man is this awesome, impassioned, and uplifting; and he can get me off my butt, and on the phones, and at rallies, making noise for marriage equality – he is the type of person who should be co-heading up a charity. He can get people moving.”

I am really pleased to take part in his charity. I worked with one of the other co-founders – Jenny – on setting up my fundraising page. She’s absolutely lovely as well. I have yet to meet Gavin, but I’ve only heard amazing things about him.

I completely trust and look up to the co-founders of Broadway Impact, and I am totally honored to get to run for their charity.

Even if we put the people aside for a second, you can see some of the awesome work they’ve done (and continue to do) here.

If you’d like to give to my fundraising page, you can do that here.

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 27 (The “‘How Are You Handling All of This?’ Question/What Life Is” Chapter)

October 10, 2012

It’s Wednesday night, so the heart story continues.

Last week, I said I would pick up talking about the people who say, “How are you handling all of this?”

Let me just start with, I love people. You might not think it from all the times I constantly complain about people in this long running heart story series. But I love them. I appreciate their concern. I appreciate that they’re doing their best to show that they care. I appreciate the fact that it really must be awkward for you when an acquaintance, a friend, a whatever gets some weird life-threatening congenital heart defect, and their treatment is ongoing.

I appreciate all of that. I’ll admit that I don’t always know what to say to people when something goes wrong in their life. I always want to make it better. Of course that’s not always possible. I’m not at all going to act like I would’ve been any better.

But here comes the rant part.

(I know I’ve ranted about various things throughout this series, and had various gripes about the people (whom I love). I believe I have touched on some of the ideas intertwined in here. Sorry if I’m covering familiar ground. Hopefully some of this is new to you.)

This whole “How are you handling all of this?” drove me crazy.

One thing I know I’ve said in this blog before is that all problems are valid if they affect that person in a profound way. Think of all the problems other people were dealing with at the time – money, apartment, exercise, family, roommate – so many possible issues. (Obviously the list goes on past those things.)

They may have been asked by a couple of close friends, “How are you handling all of this?” But I was getting it all the time from everywhere.

Here was the worst part. If I would try to be honest, and talk about what was really bothering me, people would scoff at it!

My biggest stressor – the thing that drove me absolutely insane was letting go of all my jobs. I felt like I’d worked so unbelievably hard. I’d sacrificed sleep, a personal life, hobbies, vacations, my sanity, holidays with my family, and who knows what else for theater.

As I’ve also said before on this blog, when it comes to theater, nothing that I give up in favor of it is ever truly a sacrifice. Since theater is my first love, it’s hard to say I’m “sacrificing” anything, because there is no where else I’d rather be than a theater. Sacrifice is really the wrong word. I was freely giving my life to it. I was choosing theater.

Now, my life was choosing for me. As I was getting hired more and more, and getting to reap the benefits of being an incredibly proud card-carrying Equity member, the choice was no longer mine to give my life to the thing I adored.

(Don’t feel too terribly bad for me. I wasn’t on Broadway. It wasn’t the biggest moment of my career. But I’d built my momentum (which is hard to do sometimes!). Once momentum was going – ba bam! Sudden stop.)

Theater was my main stressor. Then there was running – my precious, precious running.

So when people would ask me how I was handling things, if they were really asking and wanting an answer (not just “everything is just dandy), I’d talk about the stress of not working, of not having been backstage in a theater for months.

And people would think I was ridiculous.

They’d want me to be nervous about having doctors go in my heart, or something. People would come back with, “That’s just work. This is your life.”

I’d say, “No. That is my life. Theater is my life. Theater is my heart. Theater is my soul. It’s is my love, my dream, my everything. Theater, marathons, goals, learning new things – these are the things that make a life. A beating heartbeat does not make a life. I understand that you must have a functioning body to have a life, but having a functioning body does not mean you have a life.”

I am not worried about my surgeries. (That was my feeling before every one, from small procedures to open-heart surgery.) I checked out my doctors on the internet. They were top-notch. That’s all I could do. I could research. (I did.) The surgeries were out of my hand. That was that.

Why focus on getting nervous about a surgery? I’ll die or I won’t. There is nothing I can do about it. Let’s focus on my future. Let’s make plans and goals. Let’s prepare for my life outside of the hospital.

This is where I’ll pick up next week.

(#35) Long Beach International City Bank Half Marathon

October 7, 2012

As I was lacing up my shoes in the morning, I noticed I’d thrown on my pajama bottoms inside out. Oh well.

I continued the morning by reading the train schedule of the wrong station. I ended up getting to the station “on time.” Since it was the wrong station, I caught the train after the one I wanted, meaning the moment I got to the start line, it was time to get out there and run!

I’ve mentioned before that sometimes speakers are positioned so that right before the start line, it sounds like a party. Right after your cross the start, you wonder, “What happened to the tunes?”

Long Beach had nice speaker positions. Music continued at the same volume for a while after the start. I could get used to that!

I jogged parts of the first 4 miles. There was a very generous time limit on this race (about 7 hours).

But, there was a cutoff scheduled at 8:30am at mile 4 – something about opening roads back up. I crossed the start around 7:30. I wanted to make sure I made that cutoff, so I jogged part of those four, and walked part of those four.

A woman named Lisa jogged up to me around mile 2, and said she recognized me from Tahoe! (It’s fun running into people I didn’t even know I’d seen before!) We talked for a bit, then moved on to different paces.

I hit mile marker 4, and was home free.

The Long Beach community was overflowing with enthusiasm.

There was a super enthusiastic officer. I have never been more excited in my life to be at mile 4.7. He made it really cool. I also love, love, love spectators who show up with signs saying something along the lines of “I’m a stranger, but I’m so proud of you.”

I went by a family that was holding one. They also had a special brand of enthusiasm I don’t usually see. From the moment they were in my vision to the moment they left it (which was a fairly long time), they were celebrating as though their favorite rock star was running by them.

I saw them again over an hour later on the turnaround. Their enthusiasm had not waned one bit. I loved it.

We also had super excited volunteers. I passed some in a hilarious, healthy competition over convincing the most people to grab their drink (water or Powerade).

Speaking of water (or what I thought was water), let me admit something very embarrassing to you.

It was getting pretty hot out there as the race wore on. Around mile 10, I saw someone with a huge squirter thing. I thought they were squirting water, and I was all, “Yeah, get me, get me, please.”

I turned around and asked for it around my back and neck. Turned out it was some kind of muscle stuff that warmed up after it hit your skin. Ow. That was mildly painful, and hilarious to the people walking with me (and me).

People joked about the way I smelled like muscle warmer stuff for the next couple of miles.

Speaking of the people, I walked with two lovely people – Brian and Singrid for a number of miles. We had an absolute blast getting to know each other.

I met them as I went to talk to a woman wearing a sign on her back that said, “I am 85!”

She had done her first half marathon when she was 78 years old! She was adorable and hilarious. Everyone kept trying to talk to her. She’d say little things here and there, but then she’d say she couldn’t be distracted ’cause she was going for a certain time.

When I asked what that time was, she said, “I can’t tell you or else it won’t come true!”

The course was a little funny because somewhere past the middle of the half marathon, we passed the finish line festival. You could see everyone hanging out and eating when you still had miles left to go. “Oh look, the finish line!… Oh… Bye.”

I enjoyed this humongous sign at mile marker 12 from Jet Blue that said “One More Mile. You’re non-stoppable.” It was signed by, I think, staff and patients of the hospital that was the main race charity.

Speaking of sponsors, I saw a sign that the Golden State Gay Rodeo Association was a sponsor. Shout out to them, ’cause I didn’t know they existed.

At the end of the race, I got my humongous Beach Cities Series medal! Between the race I did on crutches, and my first double weekend (coming from a different time zone), I really feel like I earned that series medal!

(#34) Arizona Half Marathon

October 6, 2012

I woke up in the middle of the overnight bus ride to Phoenix and saw nothing but tail lights. We were in stopped traffic. Luckily, I had a buffer zone. It didn’t matter much that we were an hour late.

Someone I’d met at the airport over a year ago picked me up and drove me to Goodyear! We got some Starbucks, and caught up.

In this race, we ran out on a long road in the desert. We saw more desert. We ran back on the same road, and saw more desert. In the second half, we went on a different road and saw a different part of the desert.

(I’m not complaining. I knew what I was signing up for. Also, imagine me telling you that with a slight laugh in my words. Ha, ha, ha – desert everywhere you look.)

It was a small race. The volunteers were very nice, but I didn’t see many people except volunteers and police officers (not really any spectators, cheerleaders, musicians, etc.).

With a race coming up tomorrow, I decided not to jog this race, but to just stomp it out – sometimes like I was a model on a runway, sometimes like I was walking through water, sometimes like I was dancing in a music video – whatever stomping I felt like at the time.

I put on some good stomping tunes. What are my best stomping tunes, you may ask?

To name a few – Mo’ Money, Mo’ Problems,  and Bad Boy For Life. (How can you go wrong with Puff and Biggie?)

I started to get slightly nervous when 20 minutes had gone by, and I hadn’t seen a mile marker yet! I thought I knew my pace pretty well. I was sure I should’ve seen one.

Turns out, I had passed mile 1. There were no mile markers in this race. That was sort of a bummer. Between desert, desert, and more desert, signs would’ve added something.

One thing that was different about this race was that there were different Gatorade flavors at different stations. I’d never seen that before.

I was often switching between last and second to last place. The girl who kept passed/getting passed by me was a run/walker, so she’d run ahead then get passed on the walk. There came a time when I passed her for good. I thought, “Boom! Not last.”

Later, she quit the race. I caught up with two other people, passed them and managed to not come in last. Yee haw!

At the end of the race, I grabbed my pretty rocking medal, and started going up to groups of people and like a super weirdo saying, “Anybody headed to Phoenix? Phoenix anybody?”

I got a ride with Lisa a Doug, an extremely lovely, fun, wonderful couple. Lisa talked about never squashing a dream, and all the fun projects/careers her kids were chasing after.

We talked all the way to the airport, and I bid farewell to my new friends. Since I had a half marathon the next morning, I went ahead and splurged on taking a flight instead of a bus. (Worth it.)

Let me tell you the saddest story about my flight, though. So, I had these delicious cheese fries and a wonderful glass of milk. During the flight, I set them on my tray table. Then I dozed off. When I woke as the plane was landing, I was starving and excited to eat them…

They were gone! Apparently, says the person next to me, the flight attendant tried quite hard to wake me up, but I could not be woken.

I guess what I’m saying it not to all people and future me – do not ever leave any special perishable things on your tray table. If you fall asleep, they could be gone.

And note to flight attendants (but also a note to me): If the flight attendant had saved my precious fries somewhere and given them to me after the flight, he would’ve been totally my new best friend. Please don’t throw away wonderful food.

(The reason that’s also a note for me, is it’s a good reminder to think about what you can do (especially things that are easy to do) to add happiness to another human’s life. I know this is a really small example – just cheese fries. But, it’s a good reminder, nonetheless.)

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 26 (The “Bright Sides On The School Thing” Chapter)

October 3, 2012

(Photo Credit: NewEnglandMagazine.com)

It’s Wednesday night, so the heart story continues.

Last week, I left talking about school, withdrawing from a semester a planning the next one.

While we’re talking about school, I think I forgot to say that one of my teachers actually let me Skype in for a bit to a class (I think it was so I could “be there” as they presented my final project), which was really fun.

Although, things around me in the hospital kept beeping, and I was hooked up to my heart rate monitor. I had some wires coming out of my hospital gown. Everyone was all, “Are you dying?” “Is your roommate dying?” “Are you part robot?” every time they heard sounds.

Side note: Speaking of that heart rate monitor, I don’t know if I mentioned this, but I got so very used to wearing one. I could still probably point out where you attach the leads. I don’t know if this happens to other patients, but I have super crazy dry skin. My skin got irritated after wearing a heart rate monitor for long periods of time. I’d have these weird little outlined circles around my body.

All right, so the semester was over (and somewhat worthless, ‘cause it didn’t really count for anything). The epicardial ablation was over (and somewhat worthless ‘cause it didn’t fix anything).

My open-heart surgery was scheduled for March 22, 2010.

We’ve covered through December 2009. January was all that blood testing stuff, since I was on Coumadin.

In February, I pretty much just worked as far ahead in classes as possible since I knew I’d be gone for so long in March.

There definitely can be some bright sides found in taking that semester of MP&E twice.

1) The major was really hard, and having a second crack at a bunch of really hard projects made me much better at producing and engineering.

2) One of my classes basically revolved around knowing one of the consoles and all the signal flows inside and out. They got a brand new console between semesters – so I got to learn about two different consoles in depth.

3) The soundalike project is often known as the hardest project in the program. The first time around, I did a Matchbox 20 song, ‘cause I knew someone who sounded a lot like Rob Thomas. I figured that having a singer who sounds so similar would help the project sound a lot like the record. (It did. That was definitely a helpful thing.)

The second time around in the class was like a fun bonus gift for me. I had the same teacher. He knew I’d successfully done the project once. So this time, I got to be bold, brave, and challenge myself. I did a Michael Jackson song!

Billie Jean actually turned out pretty awesome, if I do say so myself. (Although, I never was able to find a person who sounds like Michael – but listen to my instrumental, baby!)

Last week I said I’d talk to you more in this post about people who say “How are you handling all of this?” You know, what? Actually, I love people. I appreciate their concern, but I have a feeling I have a lot to say about this (more than what I have room for in this post), so let’s start here next week.

(#33) Lake Tahoe Half Marathon (Tahoe Trifecta Day 3)

October 1, 2012

Day 3!

I realized not too long into the race that this was the main half marathon of the weekend.

There were more people in this race, and way, way, way more support. There were a bunch of well-stocked water/food stations. Many stations had fun themes – 70’s, safari, matching bright outfits, and more.

Each group took time to make their station special, fun, and different.

There was a group that was doing burpees for high-fives. They were getting tons of high-fives, so I’m sure it was probably a pretty exhausting day for the people doing the burpees.

Girls on the Run yet again had an amazing, super-cheerful, enthusiastic station. They made up special cheers for this race incorporating how we all could take on the hill (that we continued to climb right after the Girls on the Run stop).

There was even a high school orchestra that came out and played for us! How cool, right? There was also a man who played the bagpipes before and during the race.

And, there were sweet, sweet mile markers during this race! Seeing each mile pass is wonderful. I love mile markers!

I finally jogged today after all that walking from the past 2 days. This was the last half marathon of the weekend, so I didn’t have to try to conserve my energy. I didn’t jog a lot, but I jogged it out in the first mile, which felt great.

I’m glad I saved a bunch energy for this race, ‘cause there were a couple of hills that were killer.

Six miles in, and far up a hill, I passed a medical station (which was the first one of the weekend). I didn’t think I needed anything from them until they yelled out that they had sunscreen. I’m in! I am always in for sunscreen.

I started talking to Rayna, Brian, and Siobhan – the medical staff. I took a little break to a) sunscreen up real good and b) hear about how their passion for working in the medical profession and how each one of them found it as their calling.

At some point, I decided I couldn’t sit around and talk all day, it was time to keep climbing up that hill.

At some point, I came across a full Gatorade just sitting on a guar rail. Huh. Was this left here by some kind stranger? I checked it out. The seal was broken, so I left it be.

Once I got in the last two miles, I was really starting to drag. I started with loads of energy and I was so done around mile 11. We went onto a bike path, so I didn’t even have the highway to entertain me anymore.

My dad and I talked on the phone for a bit. He said he was wearing his t-shirt from the Indy 500 Festival (his first half marathon (that we did together)), and I was wearing my 500 Festival shirt as well!

I guess maybe it’s not all that cool, but I thought it was pretty neat.

Eventually, I made it to the finish. There was a woman there (Dianna) who’d made cakes for everyone who had a birthday that day. She’d made some extras and gave me one. What? A free cake? An entire cake… not a piece of cake, but a whole cake. Boom. How awesome.

… Except I was still in vegan week! I couldn’t eat it, but I could try to get it back to L.A. with me in one piece, and eat it the moment I could have dairy.

I went back to the hotel to grab my bag and the shuttle to the airport. Embarrassingly, I didn’t have any cash to tip the bellman. So, I gave him my cake. At first he was all, “Oh, I couldn’t take your cake,” but saying it in that way where you see in his eyes that he really, really wants that cake. I implored him to take it.

The sweet staff seemed excited about cake. They said they’d share it at the end of their shift.  I’m glad the cake found a good home.

As I was waiting for the shuttle, the woman at the concierge desk said, “Did you know you were in the local paper? I recognized you from your hat! Here, I printed out your article.”

How random and sweet, right? She liked my story. We had a lovely, short conversation. It was time to head home to L.A.

First triple half-marathon/39.3 weekend complete! Boom, baby!

(#32) The Tahoe Nevada Half Marathon (Tahoe Trifecta Day 2) – Part 2 (Encouraging Maria To The Finish)

September 30, 2012

Picking up from yesterday, I was gearing up to not come in last.

With somewhere between a mile and two miles to go, I came upon Maria.

Maria was limping along. I asked if she was okay. She said she was in a lot of knee pain, but determined to finish. I asked if there was anything I could do, but there wasn’t. There weren’t any medical professionals I could run up to (no medical stops at this race). I didn’t have anything on me that could be helpful (wrap, ice, painkillers).

A part of me thought about just walking on to the finish. I was sort of on autopilot, ready to be done (and to not come in last).

A bigger part of me thought about how I try to convince my friends that they should run with me. I find running and running events to be so very joyous, and I want to share them with everyone!

When I offer to do half marathons with friends who’ve never done them, I make a promise to them. I say that I will not let them fail. I will entertain them through pain (if they have any). I will hold their hand. I will let them lean on me and hobble along if necessary. No matter what happens, I will not leave their side until we make it to the finish line.

I thought, if that’s what I’m offering my friends, how can I not offer that same thing to a stranger? I’m obviously not setting a PR here. As Will Ferrell’s character says in Talladega Nights, “If you’re not first, you’re last.” So, who cares if I come in last or not last, when really they’re both last by that logic.

Leave Maria to hobble the last mile-something alone? I just can’t do that.

I ask if she wants a walking buddy, and she starts crying. She thanks me, and talks about how she’s been injured for a few miles and it’s been so lonely. We exchange names. I do my best to get us talking about things that make her happy – her kids, her husband, her hobbies.

It’s not too long before her husband runs up from the finish. Her trainer comes along not too far behind him. We all stay with Maria until we get to the finish line. (I was going to say “we got Maria to the finish,” but we didn’t. She obviously got herself there with her determination. She is awesome and will not be stopped.)

We finished strong. We all hugged a lot, and said our goodbyes.

…and we didn’t come in last!

Day 2 complete.

One more note before we move on to the final half marathon of the weekend. I made the paper! If you want to see the article in the Tahoe Daily Tribune, you can check it out here.

(#32) The Tahoe Nevada Half Marathon (Tahoe Trifecta Day 2) – Part 1 (Recognized By A Stranger (Famous Much? ;)) And Running On A Highway Shoulder)

September 29, 2012

On the shuttle to the race, I was talking to the people around me. Someone said, “You’re Aurora?” I said, “Yes. Did I say that already?” (I didn’t remember introducing myself yet (which I suppose was a little on the rude side for me to just launch into conversation without even saying my name).)

He said, “No, I recognized you from your blog.” What?! Whoa. He said he found it through Google Reader or something. He asked me some questions about some races I’d done. He really had, in real life, read my blog.

In fact, he told me that he signed up for these races because he saw them on my blog and thought they looked fun. Wow, right? I really hope he had a great, fun weekend overall. And Paul, if you happen to be reading, feel free to chime in in the comments (or email me) with how the weekend ended for you.

I found today’s race funny because they said, “You’re gonna run 10 miles along the highway, but we didn’t close it down, so be careful.” I love that we were just a big pack of people going along the highway. From all accounts I heard, there weren’t even any signs put up before the 10-mile stretch warning drivers, “Hey, watch out for a fair number of runners in the middle of a half marathon.”

I can’t say for certain there were no signs, but I talked to some peoples’ relatives who drove that stretch who said they didn’t see any warning signs.

Best of all, not only we were trying to stay in the small shoulder area, there was a bike ride at the same time (run by the same half marathon people) using the same shoulder! So, the runners and cyclists were trying to use the same tiny piece of road, while going in opposite directions, and they were doing it while trying to avoid cars in the lane we were trying our best to stay out of.

The thing about going along the shoulder in that part of Lake Tahoe is that there were numerous areas where, if you went too far away from the road, you didn’t just end up in the woods, you fell off a cliff. Sometimes we were sandwiched between guard rails and the road. It was interesting to say the least.

I walked this race as well (as yesterday’s). I’d never done a triple before, so I felt that saving up energy making sure I could get through the final race was the best strategy that I could take this weekend. Today I did walk faster, though. I kept up with other walkers, because being with people is far more interesting than being without them.

I gabbed for a while with a woman named Jackie. She was a treasure for listening to me ramble on about pretty much nothing as we passed the time. We traded off at different points – visiting groups of other walkers – her passing me sometimes, me passing her sometimes.

In the last few miles, we were off the highway and into a neighborhood. I hit a quicker speed-walking type stride. Let’s get real, I was ready for this race to be over. Not that it wasn’t enjoyable. It was just my second one of the weekend. And the nature was beautiful, but a little repetitive.

I ended up passing Jackie with my new rocking strides. I walked out a good deal ahead of her and her walking buddy (to where I couldn’t even see them anymore). I was ready beat somebody after coming in dead last the day before.

This is where I’ll pick up tomorrow.

(#31) The Emerald Bay Half Marathon (Tahoe Trifecta Day 1)

September 28, 2012

assortment of vegan foods and my bib left in my hotel room by my friends Wendy and MartyI got into Tahoe around 3 in the morning, and waiting for me in my hotel room was an assortment of vegan snacks that Marty and Wendy had left for me! (And they’d picked up my bib for me as well. They are such lovely friends.)

That was so sweet of them, and extremely appreciated. (I was struggling like crazy with the whole vegan thing.) Did you know unfrosted pop-tarts are vegan? I didn’t. Yum.

I smiled at the kind gesture, then fell straight asleep. Morning came 2 hours later. I threw on some clothes, and headed down to the shuttle across the street.

My big strategy was to go as slowly as I could the first day. With three half marathons in a row this weekend, I wanted to wake up for day two feeling like I hadn’t even done one the day before.

I strolled along the course, checking out the gorgeous scenery, and listening to some great music in my headphones.

At the end of the first mile, there was a person there who said you’re at mile 1, let you know what your time was, and said something encouraging. (At least, that’s what happened by me since there was barely anybody back where I was. I’m sure with the big groups of runners he probably just yelled out “mile 1!” or the runners’ time at that mile as they whizzed by.)

I thought, “Human mile markers? That’s fun!” Alas, he was the only one. The rest of the mile markers were… well, they were mainly non-existent. I saw markers here and there for mile 5 or mile 10, but there were long stretches where you just kind of had to guess/feel it.

Part of the course was through a construction zone, which I thought was something. I don’t know if that something is that it was hilarious, or challenging, or dangerous, or what it was; but it was definitely something.

The runners could be on the sidewalk sometimes. Sometimes they couldn’t. We passed men with hard hats, and loud and fast tools. Cars had a little extra room to try to avoid runners sometimes. Sometimes they didn’t. There were cones and things that seemed to make lanes a little smaller.

Cars and construction workers had a fun time trying to avoid runners. Runners had a fun time trying to avoid cars, construction workers, and obstacles (such as gaping holes where sidewalks would be filled in later). As far as I know, everyone successfully made it through without injury!

There were these two blocks I walked through that had three wedding chapels! Three! If you stood at the center one, you were in viewing range of the other two. At least one was open 24 hours/day. There are that many people getting married in Tahoe to necessitate such demand? I had no idea.

Around mile 8, I stopped and talked for a while with the man handing out water. This was a pretty small race without a bunch of spectators and bands and things. I was quite happy to see another human, and I took a nice big break to say hi.

Not long after that, I stopped into a Staples to use the restroom, and I did a teeny-tiny little look around while I was in there. (I’m kind of obsessed with office supplies. I love them, and Staples very well may be my favorite store.)

Okay, but enough with all the shopping, break-times, and sauntering. You are in a half marathon here, Aurora.

I headed on out toward the finish.

I walked for a while, and thought, “Goodness gracious, this race is seeming a little on the long side.” I kept walking… Still not to the finish.

For once, I’m actually pretty certain I’m not lost. My friend who’d already finished, and the man at the water stop made sure I knew where to take my turns, since I was in the back (and apparently other people had gotten lost).

I finally made it to the finish in something like 5 hours, and I collected my medal.

Luckily, I was not the only one who thought the course felt long. Wendy and Marty mapped it. Sure enough, it was 14.91 miles. Yee haw.

Wendy, Marty, and I went out for some vegan lunch. (I’ll admit it was delicious.) Then we took a trip to the grocery store where they showed me all the vegan things I could eat. It was a very helpful field trip. (Did you know you can still have Oreos? I didn’t.)

We swing by the expo to pick up our t-shirts. Now it’s time to get sleep to prepare for another 13.1 tomorrow!

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 25 (The “Fail/Pass School, School, School” Chapter)

September 26, 2012

It’s Wednesday night, so the heart story continues.

Last week, I said I’d talk about what the school did for me.

I was actually planning on just taking the failures with the A’s. (I didn’t realize I had another choice.) One of my professors started prodding, and getting involved. He made me meet with one of the school counselors. I was extremely resistant.

I was really stubborn, and assumed the school wasn’t going to do anything to help. (What could they do? They already said they couldn’t overrule the teachers or force them not to take attendance into account.)

I also didn’t want to meet with a guidance counselor because I didn’t like the word “counselor.” I didn’t want anyone coming at me with “sweet face,” and “sweet voice,” saying, “How are you handling all this? This is so much for someone your age, etc.” I had really heard enough of that and sort of constantly wanted to scream at people.

I will talk more about that in the next post, but for now I’m taking a break from doing constant tangents.

I don’t remember how I was finally convinced to take the meeting with the counselor, but I did.

No, I would not like to talk about my “problems.” Thanks, kindly.

Apparently, one of the various fees we paid with tuition was for some kind of student insurance in case some big life event happened. The insurance made it possible to withdraw from the entire semester at any time (including the very end).

My choice was to take the A’s and F’s I had (and take it all, the failures with the successes), or withdraw from everything. There was no in between.

Part of me wanted to just take the failures. I’d worked so unbelievably hard in the classes I was getting A’s in. I’d put in so very, very many hours on all of my projects. It was hard to imagine to that all over again.

It’s the general consensus from everything I’ve heard that 3rd semester is the hardest, so I did not want to repeat it. It’s the semester where we get our biggest project – the soundalike.

Repeating those hard classes was not something I enjoyed thinking about. But in the end, failing half of my classes was something that sounded even worse. So, I withdrew from the entire semester.

At least it’d be easier the second time around, right? In some ways it was, in some ways it wasn’t We’ll talk about that later.

Going into my next semester at Berklee, I knew that I was going to be out for open-heart surgery for several weeks. I planned accordingly and talked to teachers ahead of time. I didn’t want to waste yet another semester of school, and I knew some people professors be willing to work with me.

I found a schedule of classes I could take that would let me work remotely when necessary, and would let me try to work ahead as much as possible so that by the time I went in for open-heart surgery in March, I’d be as close to done with all my work as was possible.

As I was figuring out my schedule, I talked to the MP&E department asking if I could smush two semesters together (since I’d already done the work leading to the next one).

They actually gave me permission to do that! However, Stephen, my incredibly awesome professor got wind of this and called me from Hawaii. He spent probably an hour with me on the phone talking about the pros and cons (mainly cons) of doing that.

So, so very stubborn. (That’s my deal.)

I knew that by spending all that time (in Hawaii) trying to convince me not to take on too much, he must really think it was important that I stuck to just repeating the semester I’d done. I trust him a ton.

A main idea behind that was that while some work could be reused, some couldn’t. I’d still have word to do, and taking on something like seven Music Production and Engineering classes in the same semester really would have been a lot.

Plus, it would be very possible to get through classes I’d pretty much done before. But he thought that missing 1/2 the semester in new classes would take a toll on me. They very well might’ve. So, I did a very un-Aurora thing.

I definitely wasn’t known for backing down (or compromising). Sometimes that results in brilliance. Sometimes not. It is possible that not being too terribly stubborn is a good quality. So, I decided to be human and do what a “normal” person would do.

This is where I’ll pick up next week.

(#30) Rock ‘n’ Roll Denver – Part 4 (The End Of An Emotional Roller-Coaster Of A Day)

September 25, 2012

Yesterday, I left off with the fun volunteers and spectators.

One thing I noticed in Denver was that there were children! Kids, I tell you! I never think about how rare it is to see a child in Los Angeles, until I see lots and lots of children in Denver. Families. Weird, right?

I love when I see little kids at races with their families. They get to see from an early age how amazing and incredibly fun running events can be. (Yay!)

As the race went on, it sort of felt like the majority of ground I was covering was in a park. As miles wore on, I kept looking around thinking, “Haven’t I been in a park already?” “Is this the same park I was just in?” “How much park space is there in Denver?”

Then, I came across a little path where I could see the end, and the end was a road where I’d walk the same area going the opposite direction. And at the end of that, we’d walk back down in a different lane of that same road, only in the opposite direction again (the same direction we had started going while on the paved park trail). Goodness gracious.

Okay, weave, weave, weave. Do that for a while. Eventually, I made it out of the turnaround/turnaround.

At some point before the relay switch point, I met this amazing woman wearing an Obama pin on her hat. That spurred me to start a conversation, and she was so lovely. Then she had to leave me to tag in her relay partner. Wah wah.

I was getting a little tired toward the double-digit miles. (It had been a long morning, and I was coming off of no sleep.) Somewhere around mile 11, I ran into Chaunecey. (I’m not sure if I’m spelling his name correctly, but it was cool. It wasn’t “Chauncey.” It was pronounced Chaun-ess-see. Or maybe that is just how they pronounce Chauncey in a far away land? I’m not sure…)

Anyway, I run into, let’s call him Chaun. And he gave me a little packet of Mini-Oreos, thereby becoming my new best friend.

My energy level skyrocketed. (I’m not saying it’s healthy to have sugar rushes, but in that moment, I was all “Yeah, baby! Let’s do this race!”)

I started running. I ran around to different groups. Whenever I heard some fun-sounding people behind me, I ran back to see what was going on back there.

Life was good. I finished strong, with Ann the awesome race announcer saying, “Look who it is!” She gave me a big high-five as she danced by the finish.

Then, they gave us more food than I’ve seen at any finish line! There were burritos, my friends. Burritos!

As a nice woman handed me my Evol burrito, I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. But then, I had to hand it back and say, “Sorry, I’m vegetarian this week.”(!)

First, she laughed at me when I said, “this week.” But then she gave me one without meat! Sweet business.

I also got a banana, a Gatorade, chocolate milk, a Marathon bar, a water, and a bag of Snikiddy baked fries. They fed us super well after that race. And thank goodness considering I was still without any money.

To add to my mix of lovely moments and not as lovely moments in this day of emotional roller-coasting, as I was walking toward bag check, a volunteer said, “How’d you do?” I smiled and said, “Well, I finished.” He said, “But what was your time?” I said “Really, really slow.” “Numbers. What was it?” “Pushing 4 hours.” “For the marathon?” “The half.” Then in all seriousness, with disgust, he said “Ugh, that is slow!” Yeah, man. I know! I’d been dodging your question for a couple of rounds. You could tell that I definitely knew I wasn’t fast. Do you need to bring so much negative attention to it?

I grabbed my backpack, and made it back to the airport. Sure enough, my wallet had been found!

I picked up some dinner at Sbarro, and a man very quietly paid for it for me. When I got up to the register, the woman pointed to the man who had already walked away. She said, “He paid for it.” I yelled out, “Thank you!” He turned around, gave a little smile, and went on his way.

What a lovely random act of kindness.

(#30) Rock ‘n’ Roll Denver – Part 3 (Getting My Packet, Starting The Race)

September 24, 2012

Picking up from two days ago –

(or yesterday if you want – though I say skip it. (It wasn’t a pleasant post)) –

I get off the connecting bus, and get onto yet a third bus. My first two buses were empty, except for the drivers (and me). This bus was packed. I found three really nice people wearing bibs for the race. I figured if I stuck with them, I’d get there. (I did.)

As I talked to my new friends, I got my sunglasses out of my bag. Pop! One of the sides came (that goes on your ear) came off. (It was a roller-coaster ride of emotion that morning!)

We racers jumped off the bus downtown. (I know, it only took me ’til part 3 to start talking about being at the actual race…and I still have yet to talk about the race actually starting.)

I made my way over to the solutions table to pick up my bib and chip.

As always, they asked for my ID. All of the blood rushed out of my face. (In case you don’t remember from part 1, I’d lost my wallet at the airport!) I had nothing. My brain started listing some possible solutions.

“Maybe I can whip out my iPhone and show them my blog with a bunch of posts and pictures of me.” “Maybe I can go to the ‘my finisher’ section for any of the Rock ‘n’ Roll races I’ve done so far this year and show them all of my official finisher photos from their races.” It wouldn’t necessarily prove it was me, but if I was trying to pull one over on them, it would’ve been happening for a while now, and I would’ve put a lot of work into it.

spectator at the Rock 'n' Roll Denver half marathon 2012 holding a sign that says "I don't even know you, but I am so PROUD of you!"
I will never stop loving these kinds of signs. Thank you, stranger.

Before I have to offer any ideas (beg for their grace and lenience), the person I’m talking to points me to a person, who points me to another person. I meet someone very official-looking in front of a computer. She asks me what street I live on and what my email address is. I answer correctly, so I am approved! Thanks goodness!

I throw on my bib and timing chip and make my way across the park (to where I just came from) to check my bag. At this point, the race is starting. Luckily, I’m in one of the last corrals, so I’m still cool.

Fun side note: I pass someone I went to high school with, who’s working a bunch of the Rock ‘n’ Roll races. (I had also seen him all dressed up in a toga at Rock ‘n’ Roll San Diego.) It’s always lovely running into an old friend. We say a quick hello, squeeze in a quick hug, and I make my way back to the starting line (by the solutions desk I had just come from).

I ran a bit in the first mile. (I had a morning that merited running it out a little.) But, I knew that with a triple half marathon weekend coming up, the new altitude in Denver, and my lack of sleep; I should probably go pretty easy on myself. I walked a lot, and bounced around between some lovely groups of walkers.

In one of my walking groups, we got on the subject of Cory Booker. (I feel like he comes up sort of a lot lately. Maybe ‘cause he’s awesome.) Our group was talking about things that would make us run (as opposed to walk) if we saw them up ahead. Some people thought of their favorite foods. I said I’d run if I could meet Cory Booker, because you know, he’s Cory Booker.

Sometimes I ran anyway, ’cause running is quite enjoyable. And as it says in the Maroon 5 song, “it’s getting harder and harder to breathe.” The change in altitude wasn’t really that horrible. The struggle would come and go. If I started to push myself a little, I, of course, felt it more than when I was strolling along.

Every time I did push myself and felt the difference, I thought, “And you wanna run the Everest Marathon at some point? You better train, girl! Everyone encouraged drinking more water at high altitudes, so I did. It was quite helpful. I guess what I’m saying is as long as I drink about 80 gallons of water on Everest, I’ll be cool.

Speaking of water, they had awesome volunteers in Denver working all the water stops. And, they had some rocking spectators encouraging us all along the way, which is where I’ll pick up tomorrow.

(#30) Rock ‘n’ Roll Denver – Part 2 (Arguing With The Bus Driver)

September 23, 2012

Unless you want to get mad and read a rant about an argument, I say skip today’s post.

Yesterday, we left off with me meeting the loveliest bus driver who made my morning.

Then it was time to get on a new bus…

When I get on my connecting bus, the bus driver starts making small talk with me. “So, where do you work?” “Oh, I work at Playboy.” Immediately he comes back with, “Oh, so you’re working in sin?”

Wait. What is happening here?

Now, I am not a great person, in the sense that sometimes I allow strangers to provoke me. The correct answer to, “You’re working in sin,” was probably to say, “Yep! Hardy, har, har.” Laugh it off, sit quietly, and be done.

For some reason (probably because he’s really hammering down about it and how I’m gonna have to “answer for the work I do”), I say I don’t feel bad about working there. And, “I could be working on shows that are a lot worse.”

He replies, “Like those shows where two men marry each other?” (He makes a disgusted noise.)

Oh boy.

We spend the rest of the bus ride discussing marriage equality, the Bible, and things of the sort.

(Once he said that there was something in the 10 commandments about men not fornicating with other men, I was all, “Yep, pretty sure that is not in the 10 commandments.” My iPhone came in pretty handy for verification purposes. Granted, he continued trying to twist the ten commandments anyway he could to say what he wanted, so verification didn’t necessarily help…)

I say that it’s not about what’s in the Bible, it’s about what our legal system and our society is going to recognize. He makes the argument that it should all be the same – our laws should be completely based off of the Bible.

I ask how you know what to discard and what to listen to. (Why is it okay to wear clothes of different fabrics woven together?) He says something about “just knowing” what will hurt us now (in modern times), and what won’t.

He starts talking about how gay marriage will mess up children, and how all children in gay households will grow up to be gay… you know, just like how all straight parents definitely have only straight kids. (That last part was a little sarcastic remark on my part, but he really did say that he thinks gay parents would only have gay kids.)

I start talking about how when we as a society say, “You are not equal,” it obviously makes some people feel like they in fact are not equal – as though they’re worth less than others. Some people in the LGBT community are physically harmed. Some people take their own lives because of the way hateful people make them feel.

And he says, “In Israel, they put you to death if you even think of another man that way.”

I ask, “Is that what you believe they should be doing?”

He says, “Well…. I think it’s a little extreme.”

I kid you not. Verbatim. He took a long pause after well, and he said “A little extreme.”

Then he goes on to say, “Don’t think I’m a hateful person.”

I say, “Well, you did just say that killing people based off of their sexual orientation was a little extreme.”

And he says, “Well, it is God’s country.” And he starts going on about how homosexuality is an abomination, and making it seem as though he really thinks being put to death for being gay is not the worst idea.

At that point, it’s time for me to get off the bus and go to the next one. (Thank goodness.)

As much as I didn’t agree with the things he said (and he didn’t agree with what I said), we didn’t scream or do anything crazy. We just had a conversation in which we didn’t agree.

Sometimes, it’s hard to know where the line is – when to be quiet, and when to speak out. I don’t want to go around assaulting people with words and opinions all day, but if he engages me in conversation, I see nothing wrong with respectfully (still passionately) standing up for what I believe in. (I was inspired by Andrew Rannells’ character in the most recent episode of The New Normal (“Baby Clothes”).)

I know that not everyone who is against marriage equality is like this bus driver. I’m not trying to paint a picture of an entire group of people as hateful or intolerant. I’m only telling the story of what transpired one morning between me and this one, specific man.

Sigh. Rant over, and I’ll get to the race tomorrow.

(#30) Rock ‘n’ Roll Denver – Part 1 (Oops! Early Morning Airport Surprise)

September 22, 2012

My flight from L.A. got in at 12:50am. I hung out at the airport until about 5, when it was time to start moseying down to the race. As I stepped onto the bus, the driver said, “That’ll be nine dollars.” Huh, a little steep for a normal city bus, perhaps? But okay. Let me just get out my –

Uh oh. My wallet is nowhere to be found. I start emptying out all the contents of my backpack. It must be in here somewhere… Nope. I go into security and let them know what’s up. The guard calls someone on his walkie talkie. The person on the walkie answered back. “By any chance, was she on American Airlines?” The security guard looks at me. “Yes, yes I was.” “Was she on the flight that got in at 12:50?” “Yes! Yes, that’s me!”

The security guard sent me with a different security guard up to the American Airlines counter. How lucky this is all working out so quickly. Except not. Once we get up there, we learn that there happened to be someone else on the same flight who also lost his wallet and it had already been returned to him. Then the American Airlines person told me that if they found my wallet, it would be in the special lost and found for valuables which doesn’t open until 7:30.

Okay, so now I’m alone in Denver, where I don’t know anyone. I have no money in any form on me. I have no definitive answer on whether my wallet actually has been found or not. All I really know is that I’m going to need to figure out a way to get downtown without it, ‘cause I’ve got to get to this race! (The race started at 7:15.)

I go back out to the buses. (That first one is long gone by this point.) And I tell the driver of the one that’s out there, “I’m so sorry to have this story. And I know everyone is always saying they ‘lost their wallet,’ but seriously. I have this race today. It’s number 30 of 52 in the year…”

He ends up completely saving my butt, letting me ride for free. Not only does he let me get on for free, he gives me a transfer so I can make it all the way down town without any problems.

We talked the whole way toward town about his family and my races. We bonded over heart stuff. He was a really lovely man. As I was getting off the bus, he handed me a ticket and said, “This’ll get you back to the airport after the race.” Sweet business. Thank you so much, kind sir.

And this is where I’ll pick up tomorrow.

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 24 (The “Many, Many Blood Draws” Chapter)

September 19, 2012

(Photo Credit: ModernMedicalGuide.Com)

It’s Wednesday night, so the heart story continues.

Last week, I left off having a blood clot.

They took my blood all the time to make sure that all the counts of everything were still great (or working toward getting to be what they needed them to be).

I was woken up at crazy times in the nights to get my blood drawn. It had to be drawn every so many hours.

The longer I stayed, and more blood draws I got, the bruise-ier my arms became. It became harder and harder to draw blood from my veins. They started using backs of my hands. I was becoming a human pin cushion.

I remember the hospital being sort of pretty at the time. Someone wheeled me down for a test on some floor at some point, and I saw a tree lit up.

I was hoping I’d see holiday decorations somewhere, and I did! I think it’s awesome how much the hospital tries to make the patients comfortable.

I got out of the hospital sometime around the 19th. My dad and grandma stopped by again. Adorable, of course. Sweet, for sure. But come on, y’all. I’m a grown up. (We know I love them, right?)

They didn’t come to the hospital. They knew how much I would’ve absolutely hated that. I really appreciate that they respected those wishes. We went out to dinner at some rad place that was delicious. They pretty much just wanted to make sure I made it out alive before they went back to Ohio in time for Christmas.

I stayed in Massachusetts. I had the pleasure of getting my blood drawn a lot after I got out of the hospital. I don’t remember how often I had to go. There was some sort of step-down schedule. But at first I think I went once a day or once every other day. (I suppose I may remember it feeling like more than it really was, but I honestly think it was at least every other day at first.)

Luckily, Mass Gen wasn’t too terribly far from my apartment, and it was in a pretty area. Plus, I loved walking around gorgeous Massachusetts in the wintertime. So, other than the fact that my already over-plucked arms had to be pinched and prodded again, it wasn’t horrible.

(Photo Credit: AcclaimImages.com)

The people who took my blood were nice. The waiting room had magazines and a TV. What wasn’t to like?

That lasted, I think, basically though January-ish.

Before we jump to January and beyond, let me say a couple of things to wrap up December 2009.

I said in an earlier post that I’d say how my school was able to help me out. As I think I’ve mentioned before, half of my teachers were flexible and amazing. As the end of the semester came, I had A’s in their classes.

Half of my teachers did not want to work with me being in and out of class, and they said they would fail me.

I take responsibility a big chunk of it, though. It’s probably not too much of a coincidence that the teachers who worked with me, and supported me, taught classes I was excited about. I wanted to learn more about Music Production and Engineering. When I had been in class, I was almost always truly present, in the front row, note-taking, and excited to learn.

In those traditional music classes that I wasn’t super interested in (but had to take), my work wasn’t as good or thoughtful. My attitude wasn’t as excited and driven.

I didn’t come in as a jerk. I wasn’t straight up rude. But for those teachers, I think I was a student you could easily forget – not one you’d necessarily want to jump at the chance to help.

So, I don’t blame them that much. Of course there is a small part of me that feels like since I wasn’t a bad student,  per se, and since a lot happened that was way out of my control, that I should’ve been given the chance to just pass – even if just barely, with a bad grade – just to finish out the class.

But, life doesn’t always bend to what you want when things are out of your control. That’s part of life. It’s not all in your control – from heart stuff to other people’s responses, actions, etc.

Do I really think I deserve more from the trad music teachers? Not really. I think they were justified in not going out of their way to help.

As far as classes were concerned, I was half failing and half succeeding. I’ll pick up next week with how that worked out with the school.

(#29) Petaluma Clo-Cow Half Marathon – Part 2 (Lovely Spectators)

September 17, 2012

Yesterday, I left off saying that the course was hard.They warned us on the website, saying, “If you’re tired of those boring ‘flat and fast’ half’s, this one is for you!”

They were right! This was a tough race with tons of hills, and barely anything that was flat. I was constantly going up and down. It made it an interesting journey, for sure.

Every volunteer I passed was so sweet and fun. Each person seemed completely stoked to be there. I always felt super supported, even though I was the very last one.

Special shout out to the “Girls on the Run” water stop!

“Girls on the Run” is (from their website): “dedicated to creating a world where every girl knows and activates her limitless potential and is free to boldly pursue her dreams… Running is used to inspire and motivate girls, encourage lifelong health and fitness, and build confidence through accomplishment.”

That’s an organization I can definitely get behind. Both times I passed their water stop, all the girls (the elementary-schoolers, and the grown up women alike) were nothing but joyous. They had endless energy!

Even though I was dead last, once I was in the ladies’ sight, all the little girls leaped into action. One girl rang a cowbell with more enthusiasm than anyone in the history of cowbells has rang one. Girls grabbed gels and water, offering me anything I needed. And the big kids (or grown-ups, you could say) facilitated all that awesomeness by being awesome themselves.

Huge props to the organization itself, the women who ran the water stop, the race for including “Girls on the Run,” and the girls who worked tirelessly for hours to support every runner out there. A+. I was moved by all the joy there. I sincerely hope that those girls can find that joy throughout the rest of their lives, and that “Girls on the Run” inspires more girls with every year!

Even though I’m sending that group a special shout-out, every volunteer at the race was awesome. There wasn’t a single volunteer who seemed annoyed to still be out there as I passed by them (again, in dead last place).

When I finally made it around to the finish, every police officer and spectator I passed cheered me on. “You’re almost there!” “You can do it!” This was a sweet, sweet town where no one seemed to care that I was incredibly slow.

I finally turned the corner and ran into the finish as the clock said 3:59:18. (The time limit was 4 hours, and I made it, by golly!)

The moment I crossed the finished, I was greeted by a whole team of lovely people from Clover Stornetta Farms – a company sponsoring the race.

They handed me some delicious chocolate milk, some water, a towel, and best of all, the absolute best medal I’ve gotten yet! It’s a cowbell that makes noise and everything. And it is loud!

You could easily tell who’d run the race, ’cause you’d hear them coming a mile away. I loved it.

I stopped off for some delicious lunch at this local place called McNear’s. I had pancakes with strawberry butter, which I didn’t know was a thing, but now it’s a thing I like a lot.

I jumped on a bus and slept pretty much the entire way from San Francisco to Los Angeles.

Great race. Great community. Great fun. Great day!

(#29) Petaluma Clo-Cow Half Marathon – Part 1 (A Cool Community & A Cold Morning)

September 16, 2012

"Holy Cow! You're at Mile Marker 08" - encouraging mile marker at the Petaluma Clo-Cow Half Marathon 2012
I enjoyed these fun markers with different cow themed sayings at every mile!

What a lovely community! I’m so happy I made it out to this race.

After my fun ride up California with Dave and Dave, I made my way to SFO in the middle of the night, to catch the San Fran to Petaluma shuttle.

The first shuttle of the day didn’t leave until 5:30am. I hung out at the airport for about four hours, and got in two twenty-minute naps.

I was a little worried that I might be late to the race. The shuttle was scheduled to get in at 7am – right when the race started. (And the drop off point was about a mile and a half from the start line.)

Luckily, our awesome bus driver got us in around 6:40. I made it to the start with just enough time to grab my bib, check my bag, and line up. The volunteers were super helpful to us last-minuters!

It was pretty cold in Petaluma. People told me they’d been getting a lot of fog lately, which I actually appreciated so much during the run. Moisture in the air! Sweet, precious moisture. (I have the absolute driest skin of anyone, anywhere. Obviously, L.A. is the perfect place for someone like me to live. (That’s sarcastic. because it’s so very dry out here.)) Running through clouds of moisture was such a wonderful gift!

Because of cold weather, I ended up wearing every piece of clothing I brought with me. I put my pajama pants on over my running pants. I added an extra shirt as well. In total, I was wearing 3 shirts and 2 pairs of pants.

Clover Stornetta Farms cow mascot Clo the Cow at the start of the Petaluma Clo-Cow Half Marathon 2012
Photo Credit: Clover Stornetta

I shuffled through the start, all bundled up. Through the crowd, I saw the cow mascot out there there giving us high-hooves (cow high-fives), which was fun.

I moo-ved toward him, and got my high-hoove as well. (There was a ton of cow word play at the race, so you’ve gotta let me have one fun attempt with it.)

I quickly decided I didn’t feel like running, so I hung out in the back of the pack with some walkers. I met this fun, silly group of adult siblings. (There were 4 brothers and 1 sister doing the half. They had even more siblings (plus their mom) in the 5k.)

I also walked for a while with Marc, a man who started doing half marathons because his wife got swept at a Disney race (her first one). She was pretty upset about it (understandably). Instead of telling her to give up, he stepped up and helped her train!

She’s gone on to do a bunch of races, and has never gotten swept again. I guess all the training helped her, ‘cause she was running far out ahead of us!

He had some fun stories of races they’d done and people they’d met. Eventually, I let him walk out in front of me, ‘cause I was getting tired and needed to slow my walking pace. (What a sad sentence, right? That I can’t even keep up with someone who’s walking? Wah wah.)

In my defense, this course was hard!  (Super fun, for sure. But still hard.)

And this is where I’ll pick up tomorrow.

Dave & Dave (And My Trip to Petaluma)

September 15, 2012

I’m really pumped about the Clo-Cow half marathon, and I thought it would be fun to go to the expo. (Don’t get excited though, that didn’t happen.)

I liked the idea of meeting a bunch of fun people, and a cow was going to be there for a couple of hours!

I started looking at bus schedules and realizing how hard it would be to make it all the way up to NoCal in time.

I would’ve had to leave immediately after my Friday class. Then I’d have to find a place to stay on Saturday. It seemed like a small ordeal to go to the expo.

Then, I started thinking, “A cow sounds really fun in theory, ’cause I’m picturing an adorable cartoon cow. But in real life it’s gonna be an actual animal. So, terrifying then.”

I decided to just ride straight to the race.

I think it was the right decision, ’cause I ended up meeting super fun new friends anyway! I got on the Greyhound from L.A. to San Fran at 4:15pm on Saturday. I ended up in line behind Dave and Dave (yes, they were both named Dave). They were from England, and they were 8 months in to an around-the-world adventure together!

my new friends Dave and Dave outside the Greyhound bus in San Francisco, CA after midnight
Dave and Dave

They were too cool! They just decided, “I’ve always wanted to travel. Life is happening now. I’m gonna go do it.” So, Dave #1 quit his job. Dave #2 took a year-long sabbatical from work.

Off they went! They’ve been everywhere. Their pictures were breathtaking, and they had all of these super cool experiences from different parts of the world.

They rode ostriches! They tried grasshoppers. They made new friends everywhere they went. And they were totally flying by the seat of their pants!

I asked where they were staying in San Francisco. They had no idea. They looked up hostels on the bus once we were almost to there. They had faith that wherever they went, they’d be able to figure out something.

They were incredibly awesome and inspiring, and I wanted to drop everything and spend the next three months traveling across America with them. I didn’t, but I thought about it!

Their journey’s gonna end in New York. I told them it’s a good thing they’re ending there, ‘cause they might be compelled to stay there forever. Dave #1 said he’s prepared for that scenario. If he finds a place in his year of travel that really speaks to him, he’ll up and move there. How cool, right? – So free and open to life.

I can’t wait to hear what happens with the rest of their journey!

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 23 (The “Blood Clot On My Heart” Chapter)

September 12, 2012

(Not the actual doors at Mass Gen, just what I could find online.)
(Photo Credit: Art.com)

It’s Wednesday night, so the heart story continues.

I left off last week with waking up in the ICU.

I had this humongous room all to myself. Uh, what happened?

I’m not really sure. Something to do with my liver or something. Okay, I guess that’s not really a satisfying answer. They said that something got nicked during surgery. I’m hesitant to share that part, because I don’t want it to sound like anybody at Mass General makes any mistakes.

Obviously, I’m fine. They went out of their way to take exquisite care of me. I think more than anything, they were just being incredibly cautious by putting me in the ICU. They are so very patient-focused as Mass Gen. They take every precaution to make sure every patient is totally taken care of.

In one of the earlier posts I mentioned that there was a blogger who said that his epicardial ablation was the worst thing ever. He made it sound quite painful, and all around awful.

For me, it was not like that. I felt totally fine, maybe a little (lot) drugged, but fine.

Before I had the epicardial ablation, I was warned that if it didn’t work, the next and last step that could actually fix my heart problem was open-heart surgery.

I don’t remember exactly when I was told that the ablation was unsuccessful – soon after surgery, later that night, or the next morning. Sometime around that day, I was lying down in my hospital bed. When I opened my eyes, I looked up and saw the doctor. The first thing he told me was that the epicardial ablation was unsuccessful. I’m glad he just spit out that news first, ’cause that was all I wanted to know.

I wasn’t shocked. I hadn’t had the greatest bit of luck up to that point with the failed ablations, failed medicines, ulcer, and all that jazz. I had already been told that my extra pathway was in a very hard to get area. So, open-heart surgery was up next.

Oh, one more thing… Actually, a lot more things. (I talk a lot is the point of this picture and this caption.)

Stephen, my amazing professor, came to visit me the night of my epicardial ablation. I told him it was super unnecessary, but he came anyway (from a party and everything – how kind, right?). In the end, I did appreciate it.

But don’t get any ideas, people of the world. Usually I was so annoyed at the thought of visitors. I was ready to Taser anybody else who came all up in my biznatch, but Stephen has a superhuman ability to deal with mere mortals such as my annoying self, so he was cool.

I probably rambled like a crazy person when he saw me. I  know that’s sort of base level life for me, but I’m thinking I rambled more than usual. Who knows? I don’t. Well, he does, actually. I asked if he remembered what that night was like. He said I was super-talkative – which he took as a good sign (since that’s kind of who I am (in case you couldn’t tell)).

The next day, I was deemed stable enough to move out of the ICU (yee-haw). Originally, I was supposed to go home the next day.

Funny story, I had a blood clot on my heart.

I had to stay in the hospital while I got Heparin, and they sorted the whole blood thing out (by thinning my blood).

I didn’t mind the extra days in the hospital too terribly much. I think I ended up staying 5 or so days in total that visit. Part of me was getting a bit of cabin fever at the end. I kept looking out at the snow, and it was gorgeous, absolutely breathtakingly beautiful.

There was definitely part of me that wanted to run outside and feel the cold winter’s night air while I ran through the snow. But other than that, I pretty much was just thinking that the whole hospital thing was ridiculous. At that point, it seemed like everything always went wrong anytime I entered some kind of medical place. Of course I have a blood clot, right? How could I not?

And this is where I’ll pick up next week.

(#28) Marathon Madness Half Marathon

September 9, 2012

This was my 3rd race with Rocket Racing Productions. It was lovely (as were my first two with them).

Mark and Michelle, the race directors, have incredible attitudes. They are truly be excited about promoting fitness (of all levels). They don’t seem to care if people are out there sprinting or walking – as long as people are out there moving.

The usual Rocket Racing course recently got moved from Long Beach to Santa Monica. The new path by Santa Monica Pier was a fun change of scenery.

During my 13.1 walk, I saw a display of super adorable father/son bonding time. This dad was teaching his son (with some insanely cool name that I’d never heard before, Chumbleberg, or something awesome like that) how to ride a bike. Little Chumble would ride a bit, then stop and look up at that dad. Chumbly would be doing so great. For whatever reason, he’d get scared that the greatness was about to end, so he’d stop. The dad – let’s call him Prigglehouden, ’cause you know, why not? – he was super patient and all smiles the whole time.

On the opposite end of the spectrum from the adorable loveliness, part of the run was terrifying. For the first 3 miles, there was an almost uncountable number of dogs roaming free! Tons of people took their dogs out without leashes – without leashes!

Of course there are signs all over the place about not having dogs in certain areas, and making sure dogs stay on leashes in areas where they are allowed. Are the people of Santa Monica heeding these signs? No, they are not.

As you can tell by the fact that I’m writing this, I did somehow live. Barely, obviously, but somehow I did successfully escape Santa Monica unscathed.

I never realized that if you walk down about 3 miles from Santa Monica pier – which has rides, and tourists, and things; you hit this sort of dingy area where dogs are out to get you, and random people are yelling things to the world around them. Huh.

There was this storefront with a sign for beach botox between California Toe Rings – custom fit since 1995, and medical marijuana place. I thought, “Yeah, this little storefront in this rickety, icky area is exactly where people should come to get the poison in their face. When I’m dealing with changes to my face, I always think I should have needles poked in it, on a whim, at the beach.” (That doesn’t have to do with the race really. I saw it in my pictures and felt like sharing.)

Someone had put up a sign offering advice for $1, but small talk was free. I thought that was sort of a fun idea. I’d like to put a sign out on the beach offering free small talk, and see how many/what type of people come over to visit.

When I made it to Michelle’s aid station, I stopped and talked with her for a while about the vegetarian challenge I’m on, and what I think it will be like to be vegan for a week.

I talked about one of my frustrations in figuring out the best food philosophies, is that there is so much conflicting information out there. Turns out, Michelle has a degree in nutrition.

Even she agreed that there are tons of conflicting viewpoints out there – that all have various studies and proof to back them up. (Granted, some are sponsored by certain companies, and some are less scientific than others.)

I’m glad I’m not alone in thinking that food is confusing. Of course, she’s way less confused than I am. She does have a degree in nutrition, after all. (“Confused” probably isn’t even the right word for her. (I, on the other hand, am definitely at least slightly confused.))

I got lost a little at the end. I overshot the finish. After walking for a while more than I should’ve been; I finally thought, “I really feel as though I should’ve seen the finish by now.” I got out my GPS. Sure enough, I’d overshot it. I headed back, found the finish, and got my medal – with a time of 4:28:03.

And there was cheese pizza waiting at the finish. Sweet business!

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 22 (The “Time On My Hands/Going In For The Epicardial Ablation” Chapter)

September 5, 2012

diagram of different lines on a circle - tangent, secant, diameter, chord radius
I know, I am constantly on a tangent.
(Photo Credit: MyChinaConnection.com)

It’s Wednesday night, so the heart story continues.

Last week was a tangent (as is the first part of this week). So, perhaps picking up from Part 20.

(Wow, that didn’t seem like such a ridiculous number of parts until I used it in a sentence.)

We’re gonna fast forward to December in a bit. (Skip down to the dotted line to get straight there.)

First, let’s touch on what I did in between the time of my last unplanned hospital visit in November and the epicardial ablation in mid-December.

Of course I spent time catching up on school as best as I could – and sort of trying to stay under the radar, ’cause all anybody was talking about was my heart.

I had an enormous amount of time on my hands. I wasn’t allowed to run. I went from working 60 (or more) hours in many weeks to working 0.

I didn’t have TV or internet in my apartment. (I also didn’t have a Facebook or any kind of time-sucking social media thing at the time.)

Homework surprisingly didn’t take as much time as you’d think it might. I got a ton of work done in the hospital in classes in which my teachers allowed me to work remotely. Some teachers had put their feet down about the too many absences thing. The school couldn’t overrule the teachers decisions. (Don’t think I’m hating on the school, though. They were able to help me somewhat – more on that in a later chapter.)

What to do with all this extra time? For one thing, I got a little weird. I kind of did this odd makeover thing. It wasn’t that I was really trying to reinvent myself, per se. It was just kind of like “What do people do when they have free time?”

I got a hair cut for the first time in years. This seems like a normal human errand. Fun. I tried some different colors.

I went through a red-haired phase for a bit. It was actually kind of cute, if I do say so myself.

(I used to have some pictures of me in the hospital once I got my red hair, and I can’t find them! Bummer.)

I started wearing high heels again (which I used to do everyday in high school – it was sort of my thing).

I still didn’t put on make-up, so don’t get the idea that I was super dolled up. But I changed things up. People started asking, “Oh, did you do something different to your hair?”  They said, “Wow, I’ve never seen you in heels before.”

When they were busy saying that, you know what it meant they weren’t saying? “How are you? How’s you’re heart?”

(Distraction accomplished.)

It’s sweet of them to ask how I was feeling, but we’ll talk later about those questions.

For now, let’s get to December and that epicardial ablation. (Finally! I know, right?)

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I checked into the hospital first thing in the morning. It was predetermined that I’d spend the night there. I am almost certain it was on December 14th, because I remember thinking, “What fun that this procedure/surgery thing fell on a Monday. I’ll get to watch those CBS shows!”

(CBS is the only broadcast network that doesn’t make their shows easily available online. So, this would be a fun time to check in on Monday night’s comedy block. (I’m not in love with CBS comedies (more of an NBC girl) but I like to check in on them now and again.)

The nurse said I probably wouldn’t be awake to watch them, but she underestimated how rare it was that I got to see CBS shows. I would fight through the drugs and tiredness.

I kind of did. I was in and out, but I’d say I caught at least 15 minutes of The Big Bang Theory. I can call that a win, right?

Let’s back up a bit, ’cause you didn’t come here to hear about CBS’s Monday night lineup.

So, I checked into the hospital in the morning. I don’t actually remember all that much about the pre-stuff. At some point in the morning, they put me under. Many hours later, I woke up in the ICU. Yep. The ICU. That was unexpected.

This is where I’ll pick up next week (seriously, with no tangent between this week’s end and next week’s beginning).

More Thoughts on the Disneyland Half Marathon

September 4, 2012

Dragon spewing green stuff at the LEGO store in Downtown Disney
Look at that cool dragon on the LEGO store in Downtown Disney!

The story has been sufficiently told, but there were two little things I forgot to mention, so I thought I’d throw in this post.

Because public transportation in L.A. is the way it is, I had to leave my house around 11pm to catch the last buses going to Disneyland. (The first ones in the morning didn’t get there early enough.)

I was walking through Downtown Disney around 1:45am. It was surprisingly calm and pretty to be strolling around Disney at night when barely anybody was there. I love walking around through fun, lit-up places at night. It’s always exciting to find a new one I like (especially since all the ones I currently like are in New York).

I found that sweet LEGO dragon in my fun, nighttime walk. And I saw a few super happy cast member stragglers walking out of the park. Either it’s not just an act and everyone at Disney is always that happy. Or, maybe they were happy that the day was done and all the tourists were at home. Either way, it was nice to see people just being joyous and enjoying being around each other when nothing was going on and no one was watching (well, except me, I guess).

I then went and sat in the lobby of the Adventureland tower at the Disney hotel. I figured that maybe if I  was dressed like a runner with my official Disney runner plastic bag for bag check; they’d think I was a guest who got up early and was dozing off, instead of riff-raff sleeping in their lobby. I looked as put together and “runnery” as possible. I opened up an Entertainment Weekly to make it look like I was accidentally dozing. Sure enough, no one bothered me. Success!

After a couple of hours of half-asleep sleep, I officially woke up, walked to the starting line with Wendy, and did the race (which I’ve already talked about).

And there was one thing I forgot to mention in the race report. There was a woman holding a sign that said, “It’s your moment today.” For some reason that really hit me, because I think we have a tendency to celebrate silly moments in our culture.

For instance, we celebrate birthdays… We didn’t do anything special on that day, yet that’s “our moment.” We often celebrate weddings as “the bride’s moment.” (Not all weddings are this way of course, but far too often, they’re not about celebrating love. They’re a day for a bride to dress up as a princess (and be “given away” from one man to another man – don’t get me started on weddings).)

But this really is your moment today. And I’m not just talking about half marathons. I’m talking about any day where we actually accomplish something. The day you climb a mountain? That’s your moment. The day you get a 2400 on the SATs? Your moment. If you’re Cory Booker, every day is your moment because you’re being a constant hero.

I thought it was really great to have someone reminding us, “It’s your moment!” (Thank you, kind stranger.) I encourage all of you out there who ran today, or learned something new, or helped a fellow human being, take a second to pat yourself on the back and enjoy your moment.

(#27) Disneyland Half Marathon

September 2, 2012

Wow, feels like it’s been forever since I wrote one of these entries, right? Maybe ’cause it has been!

It’s been over a month since I had a race entry in here! (A flight didn’t happen. A race got cancelled. A friend got injured before our mini-roadtrip to a trail race.)

How awesome it is to half marathon again!

As I learned in my last Disney half marathon, you’re not out to get your best time (unless you’re fast enough to be in an early corral, and never let anyone catch you – at which point, more power to you). Not fast people, such as myself, should not go to Disney with the intent to PR.

I jogged the first mile, and pretty much walked the rest of the course. I jogged bits through tight spaces in the park (whenever there was room to jog) in order to be as courteous as possible to all the runners around me. I did my best to make sure people around me who wanted to jog could do so. But I was down to walk.

As we ran through the castle, of course we came to an almost stand still. Everyone was slowing and stopping to take pictures. Then they all realized they were getting their picture taken, and stopped to pose. A bunch of people got super annoyed, huffing and puffing. Hey y’all, it’s Disney. You gotta settle down and enjoy the ride.

I’m sure the huffer puffers were new Disney runners. I don’t blame them. It’s jarring during your first Disney race, but once you learn to just chillax, the Disney races become a lot less frustrating.

We ran through California Adventure, which I’d never been to. The Toy Story soldiers yelled things at us along the lines of, “Are you the bravest? Are you the smartest? We can already see you’re not the fastest.” I thought that was pretty hilarious.

Speaking of fun things through the park – Sometimes, I’m as late to the party on things as humanly possible. I wait ’til the whole world has found something they like, it’s everywhere, everyone gets over it, and then I say, “Whoa, have you heard this new song, ‘Call Me, Maybe’?”

I don’t do it on purpose. For some reason, it doesn’t permeate my circle of pop culture until everyone else is saying, “Yes. I heard the USA Olympic Swim Team do it. I heard Jimmy Fallon do it with toy instruments. I’ve seen the memes about it with Arrested Development and Finding Nemo themes. I’m over it.”

I thought I was over it. It was a little overplayed… but I was never actually listening to it. I was only hearing about people singing it. In the park, I had no choice but to actually listen, ’cause I was on the course and all. Let me tell you, it is one catchy song. I thought the bandwagon was moving on by me. Nope. At the last minute, I leapt onto the “Call Me, Maybe” train. I ran with newfound energy as it played.

We covered Disneyland in the first few miles, then we went around some roads in Anaheim. There was dancing along the side of one. There were custom cars lining a few roads. Later, we ran through Angel’s Stadium, which was super cool. As we turned a corner, there were bunch of fans in the stands cheering. I felt famous for a hot second.

Speaking of being famous  As we were all running in, there were signs saying that if we entered we agreed that we could be used for some show. I didn’t stop to read it. I was in a half marathon. Obviously I was going to enter the stadium. So, when you see my name and likeness being used across the world in perpetuity, you know why.

There were amazing people running this race. I love hearing from first-time half-marathoners. I met a 67-year-old woman doing her first half, and a man who’d originally weighed 460 pounds. He’d lost 150 so far. He said he had more to go, but wanted to run this race to celebrate his accomplishment thus far. I saw them both in the final mile, so they were making it.

I saw Juan (the man who’d lost 150 pounds) after the finish. He was elated. It was pretty magical to see.

After the race, I grabbed my Coast to Coast medal and caught up a bit with Wendy and Marty before going home to sleep the afternoon away. On my way home, the only thing I wanted I was a delicious, juicy burger. And yet I couldn’t have one! Why, you ask? Let’s talk about it tomorrow.

Disneyland Half Marathon Expo

September 1, 2012

speech about run/walking at the Disneyland Half Marathon Expo 2012
Jeff Galloway and the sign language interpreter giving the run/walk strategy speech

As I walked around the Disneyland Half Marathon expo, I thought, “Oh no! I have seen all these things before, and I’ve signed up for most of the races that have booths here. What am I ever going to talk to the blog readers about?”

I hate to tell you that that’s not some fun intro to a “then this amazing thing happened!” turn. I have to admit, it was a pretty uneventful time.

The woman who gave me my packet was a total pro about it. She had that speech down, and could get people in and out of packet pick-up in record time. I wonder what her normal day job is, and what her dreams in life are. She is organized, smart, and quick; I hope she’s doing some awesome stuff with that.

She reminded me that I was getting my Coast to Coast medal, which was a really fun surprise; somehow, I’d completely forgot that that was happening.

There were some special screenings going on of new ABC shows. Unfortunately, I was a big doofus and got there towards the end of the expo, missing all the screening times.

I got to see a sneak peek of January’s marathon medal. Spoiler alert: It says, “All out dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.” I love that! I think it’s an excellent quote for a medal, and I can’t wait to get it.

And that’s it! You’ve heard the entire riveting half marathon expo story. We got really rad t-shirts with this race. So, yay for that!

Basic at The Groundlings – Part 11 (The “Ramping Up to the Final Evaluation” Chapter)

August 31, 2012

close up on a tiger's face on the front of Survivor's album cover for "Eye of the Tiger"Last time, we left off with my sleepover with Phil and Amber.

We stayed up until 6am. I was ready to never sleep again, but eventually, they patiently coaxed me into drifting off.

The next day, we had Chipotle together, followed by Phil and Amber dropping me off at Amanda’s house for the usual Thursday afternoon rehearsal my class had.

I was not about to let everything go down the way it did last time. One class does not one bad semester make. I practiced, then I went to yet another drop-in (which went swimmingly, thank you very much). Okay, 10 hours of improv between fateful Wednesday and hopefully better Friday. I can do this.

On Friday, I went in to class with the best attitude I could’ve possibly had. I was ready to face the day, ready for anything, determined to jump in no matter what. I literally danced down the street to school.

(That isn’t all that surprising. I dance down the street all the time – but I was truly full on dancing. People definitely thought I was crazy. Didn’t care. I was ready to take on the world! Sure enough, I somehow brought my improv world back around to not completely awful.)

Holy goodness, it might not be too late for me after all!

I had my two final classes, working as hard as I could. I faltered sometimes, but had some really strong exercises as well. Overall, I felt that things were on the upswing, even if just by a tiny margin. I convinced myself everything would probably be okay.

On the eve of our final class, a few of us went to Chipotle. Remember phenomenally talented Sean? I had been gushing about him behind his back all semester. Now that the end of class was so near, I came around from behind his back and let him know to his face that he was unbelievably helpful to me during the class.

I said that sometimes I’d been scared of certain exercises; but I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, if I ended up onstage with Sean, he was going to take care of us. It’s hard to have a bad scene with him, ’cause he can save almost anything. I may have said this on here before, but he’s an amazing improv partner. He’s super funny, really smart, and he’s always trying to do anything he can to help out his partner.

Remora attached to leopard shark
Photo credit: kids.britannica.com

I thought I’d sort of been one of those little remoras, luckily glomming onto Sean and somehow swimming through the shark infested waters uneaten, just because I was attached to a strong shark (Sean). But Sean had equally complimentary things to say about me! I kid you not.

He said he always felt like I’d take care of him in a scene and give him good information he could use. What? ‘Cause I feel like a babbling idiot up there sometimes.

Now, I know I live in L.A. So, your first reaction to anything sweet or complimentary is supposed to be skepticism and cynicism. But, you know what? It seemed really genuine. And I choose to believe it was, (’cause that makes me feel good).

And aw heck. If hilarious Sean likes acting with me and thinks I’m talented, I must be golden. I think I’ve successfully turned this semester around, right? Right? Maybe?

It was time to find out. The big, huge, gigantic day came. It was Friday, June 23rd – evaluation day. Do or die.

And this is where I’ll pick up next time. 

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 21 (The “Bitter Much? (Regarding Missed Work)” Chapter)

August 29, 2012

It’s Wednesday night, so the heart story continues.

Last week, I was talking about school and work during this time.

School-wise, the MP&E department did everything they could to help me out.

Studio time was rescheduled. Early on, one of my professors brought me an Mbox mini so I could work from my hospital bed.

I stayed on top of the workload pretty well. At the end of the semester, I had A’s in all 3 of my MP&E classes (which was not the case in my non-MP&E classes). Let’s back-burner this until we get to the end of the semester.

As far as work was concerned, I finished out the performances of the show that closed before I had the too many beta-blockers incident.

I helped as much as I could with transitioning me out of a few other shows that were starting up as things were getting complicated with my life.

At one point, as I was sitting in the hospital, I got a phone call from a company in New York asking me to come work on another television show. I was obviously extremely upset that I couldn’t do it. I also got offered a long-term job in California that I couldn’t take. I forget if these job offers came in once the epicardial ablation was scheduled, or once the open-heart surgery was.

Either way, I had a surgery scheduled, and the job that was offered needed to start immediately. I wouldn’t have been able to take time off from a new job so soon. Alas, it could not be.

I also got some calls about some shows in Boston during the holidays. I couldn’t take them since my epicardial ablation was scheduled for December 15 – one of the biggest weeks of holiday shows. Argh.

yellow cartoon rotary telephone, with an exhausted cartoon face, ringing off the hook
My phone was ringing off the hook!
(Photo Credit: Vector.Us)

Those previous paragraphs are not to say, “Look at me. I’m awesome. I get job offers all the time!” That’s definitely not how my life usually works.

This is just to paint the picture that It was an incredibly frustrating time. I’d been working my butt off, around the clock, for as many companies as possible. I was working for free (or extremely little pay), often. Sleep was always optional.

As I’ve said before, I’m a light switch, not a dimmer. I have a pretty obsessive personality (in case you couldn’t tell). Nothing got in the way of my craziness (except finally, this).

It was endlessly disheartening that once I finally started to see the rewards of my labor – I finally started to be offered more TV jobs, and more jobs with real entry-level salaries (still not great money, but a step up from nothing!) – I was completely unable to take them.

You know what happens when you are constantly turning down work. You get bumped further down the list of the “go-to people.”

Some of you may be asking, “Wait. Weren’t you in school at the time?” Yes, I suppose so. Berklee is a school where graduating is optional (and as far as the student body is concerned, not encouraged.) At Berklee, you’re pretty much treated as a failure if you haven’t gotten enough work to get you out before school is over. (Whether that’s good or not is debatable, but I had no real interest in being in college at the time, anyway.)

Lisa Simpson meditating by a small tree in her backyard
Self reflection (at least, a tiny amount, for a hot second)

The policy (which I love) at Berklee is “once you’re in, you’re in for life.” Most of us are in no hurry to graduate.

Now, even though I was super frustrated, and this all threw a huge wrench in my life, does it really matter?

The majority of my job offers had to do with reality television. (Gross, right?) Is reality TV going to add to my life? Is it going to advance my actual career goals? No.

Will it keep me in the entertainment industry? I guess… the outskirts of it, maybe (depending on how you define “entertainment”).

Sure, it was frustrating that I was working so hard, getting “rewarded,” and unable to take those rewards. But did I actually really want them?

I was setting myself up for a life in reality television. Why would I do that? What kind of “rewards” do you get? More reality shows? What kind of life are you making for yourself?

(Sometimes that’s what happens with tunnel vision. You sprint down a path you don’t really care about because you’re running so fast, and you’re so laser-focused, that you can’t see any other options in this world.)

Ah, self-reflection time. Well, we won’t answer these questions next week. I will pick up next week talking about my epicardial ablation.

I Co-hosted a Digital Talk Radio Show

August 27, 2012

Well, hey there!

This is what I did this weekend:

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VkxbNJEPwgc&w=480&h=360]

(For the first 30 seconds you see us talking, but you hear news. Don’t think you have the wrong audio. Everything’s cool. Some mute behind-the-scenes happiness just got in there at the beginning.)

Just thought I’d let you all know I co-hosted this digital talk radio show called “La La Land.” It was my first time ever doing something like that. I must say I felt pretty special since it was sort of like a podcast, and I listen to podcasts as work all the time. The people on those podcasts always seem so cool.

(Specifically, when I say the people on those podcasts are cool, I’m saying I came way late to the “Glitter in the Garbage” party. Now that I’ve found it, I love it. If you like listening to awesome rants and silly improv, you should think about loving it as well.) But enough about that. Eyes back over here. On me. Thank you.

Brett wrote me out of the blue, said he found my blog and loved it, and wondered if I’d come co-host his show. A new, different, fun experience where I get to meet new, different, fun people? Sign me up!

Basic at The Groundlings – Part 10 (The “Sobbing in Public. It Happens” Chapter)

August 26, 2012

Picking up from last time –

I was realizing as I was looking over the last post that in the future (from when the story was in real time) and in writing (as opposed to acting out the stories and showing you my sad eyes, and dramatically falling to the ground in pain and such), things don’t seem quite as terrifying as they were.

So, when you read the Groundlings posts, you really have to think about these classes as life and death here, people!

And you have to remember that I had this improv superhero teacher person who’s shooting lasers at you that are piercing through your eyes, brain, and heart. Ow, ow, ow. Lasers! So, jump into this pressure cooker with me, and feel the heat rising!

Now, back to the story.

I had finished fateful Wednesday – by far the worst class of the whole semester – and suffered through another 3 1/2 hours of improv in a drop in immediately following my class. As soon as that class was over, I was able to let all those tears out that’d been bubbling right underneath the surface.

At that moment, what I missed the very most about New York is the ability to cry in public places and have it be completely normal.

Though it might be impossible to ever choose what to miss the most about New York (I think the answer is Broadway), right then it was clear. The thing I missed the most was people being human beings around each other, because we have to. We have very little personal space, and people are used to other people crying around them.

I walked onto the subway with dead eyes and the simplest walk. I sat toward the window and faced away from everyone as much as I could. I cried so quietly. I don’t even think I made audible noises as tears silently streamed down my face. I put my hand by my face to try to cover my breakdown. I was still trying to disappear. Yet people hassled me anyway.

This one guy came up to me and said, “You look really sexy.” Okay, man, when was the last time that ever worked on a crying stranger? Ever? I mean, I guess if she’s crying because she’s been rejected, maybe her self esteem is shot and you’re getting at her when she’s vulnerable. Maybe.

Crying in public, yo. (This picture is from NYC... where it's acceptable... and the subway looks like a subway.) (Why do I have a picture of myself crying in public? I took a few for the day I left NY to blog about how heartbreaking leaving that city is. Then I had a couple of extra pictures of myself crying on the subway lying around... Might as well put one to use in this pretty appropriate spot - though I will admit, it is a little odd to take/have pictures of yourself crying.)
Crying in public, yo.
(This picture is from NYC… where it’s acceptable… and the subway looks like a subway.)
(Why do I have a picture of myself crying in public?
I took a few for the day I left NY to blog about how heartbreaking leaving that city is. Then I had a couple of extra pictures of myself crying on the subway lying around… Might as well put one to use in this pretty appropriate spot – though I will admit, it is a little odd to take/have pictures of yourself crying.)

Maybe it works for him all the time. Maybe he really was just trying to make a stranger feel better and that was the only way he knew how. I wouldn’t give him too much benefit of the doubt. The way he delivered his line, he definitely seemed to be looking out for his interests, not a stranger’s.

A sweet deaf man (who seemed to genuinely care) asked me in sign language what was wrong. I didn’t actually view him as a hassle. Though I wanted more than anything to be alone at that moment – if I have to be around people, I’ll never get frustrated at someone trying to be nice.

There are plenty of reasons to get frustrated in this life. Someone being kind to you is not one of them. Luckily, I’d retained enough sign language from my Boston days to effectively communicate with him.

I finally made it home, and that’s when Amber reminded me that Phil was coming into town that night. Oh, thank goodness. I desperately need you two.

Remember that blog post with the non-specific, floating story of the sleepover I had with Phil and Amber when you probably thought, “why is she even mentioning this?” It was that night.

Boy, oh boy did I need them more than ever. When I said I was thankful for them, I meant it.

When I said that we laughed a lot and had a great time, ’twas true. But a lot of the night was filled with me lamenting about improv. Luckily, some of it was sort of funny. Kind of. Devastating. But in a funny way. Maybe.

And this is where I’ll pick up next time.

(I’m moving on to some other things for to break up all the improv posts a little, and we’ll work our way back to this.)

Basic at The Groundlings – Part 9 (The “Someone, Please Chloroform Me, Already!” Chapter)

August 24, 2012

Excuse me while I dig myself a little hole here.

Picking up from last time  –

I was royally screwing up every scene I touched on fateful Wednesday.

At that point, I’m so done. I’m ready to dig a hole, slither into it, and never leave. Please, someone chloroform me so I don’t have to experience this for another second. I’m begging you.

It kept getting harder and harder to stand up straight while getting notes. I wanted to fold in half, melt into a puddle , then evaporate so that no one could see me anymore every time I was onstage.

When I felt how hard it was to stand up straight while receiving notes, I was catapulted back to Jordan’s class. History was repeating itself, and somehow I was powerless to stop it.

I most definitely thought about just leaving. It wasn’t enough to not be onstage. I didn’t want to be anywhere in the vicinity of a stage. As I sat watching everyone else’s scenes, I got smaller and smaller – my posture made my shoulders turn in my neck, and my stomach turn into my feet, and my calves turn into my thighs. Everything was collapsing closer together until I just became a little ball of a person. Please tell me you no longer can see me. In fact, don’t even say it out loud, ’cause talking to me kind of implies you can see me. Just look past me and I’ll know I’ve disappeared.

In the next exercise, Kevin seemed not to even notice that I hadn’t gone up. I almost took that as the blessing it was, just hiding out and letting class end without having to improv anymore. But alas, I knew he’d probably notice before I left. I didn’t want to get yelled at, so I drug myself up there and played “new choice.” Surprisingly, somehow I made it through without dying from it, though I was pretty sure I was going to.

Thankfully, the day eventually ended (after what seemed like about 3 1/2 years). This seems like a little like a re-telling of Jordan’s class, right? This next part is when you expect me to cry all the way home. I definitely would’ve. Instead, I had 3 1/2 more hours of improv left in my night, because I had a drop-in class up next.

I definitely considered not going. How can I possibly improv for another 3 1/2 hours?

I knew that I was strong enough, though. And if I wasn’t strong enough, I was gonna push to become that strong. Jordan told me 10 months ago to be confident. And Kevin told me the same thing last week. By golly, I’m gonna listen.

So, I went to my drop in class that night for an extra 3 1/2 hours of improv. And it actually went okay. I was still intensely holding onto my emotions from earlier, ’cause I just couldn’t let them go. But I did somehow survive 3 1/2 more hours of class without completely imploding.

And this is where I’ll pick up next time.

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 20 (The “Waiting for the Epicardial Ablation” Chapter)

August 22, 2012

It’s Wednesday night, so the heart story continues.

Picking up from last week (or really picking up from 3 weeks ago since the last two weeks have kind of been just generally talking about emotions and such) –

After my ablation at Mass General didn’t work, they scheduled me to come back and have an epicardial ablation. The date was set for the moment they felt my heart would be healthy enough to take it. (It wasn’t in its strongest state due to all that burning during the failed ablation).

I still had a couple of days in the hospital after I found out I’d be back for an epicardial ablation. I spent some of that hospital-bound time looking up experiences with epicardial ablations. Not that many people were talking about it.

I was going to start that sentence with “Surprisingly,” then I realized it’s not actually that surprising. It’s a rare procedure performed to fix a rare defect. Of course there aren’t people all over the internet talking about it.

But the one guy who was talking about it, was not taking about it with any joy, or happiness, or anything good at all. Not that people are ever going to be all, “Remember that swell time I had surgery? What a lark!” (Well, they might say that if they got a rocking nose job or something. But I understand that usually, surgery is not talked about with love.)

Dum dum dum! (Scary chords.)
(Or at least, so said the blogging dude.)

And this blogging dude was not happy.

My doctors explained the epicardial ablation to me. While it did seem more serious than a normal ablation, it didn’t seem as horrific as this blogging dude was making out to be. (Spoiler alert: It was not horrific at all.)

For those of you wondering about the difference between the normal catheter ablations I’d previously had and the epicardial ablation coming up –

The good ol’ previous ablations were done in a cath lab. I wasn’t put under for them. The doctors cut a teeny hole in an area at the top inside of my leg, and threaded a catheter up a vein of mine.

The epicardial ablation is more of a surgery. I’ll go full-out under, and spend the night in the hospital. The doctors cut in through my upper abdomen and then go up with their special instruments and do their thing. (Ah yeah, things get real technical up in this blog. (That’s a joke ’cause I say things such as “special instruments” and “do their thing.”))

So, as we wait for my heart to heal enough for the epicardial ablation, let’s check in with how things have been going with work and school.

Not well. Not well is how things have been going.

Between the original diagnosis, accompanied by a week in the hospital and my first heart procedure, then problems with medicines, that ulcer, the 2nd heart procedure followed by days in the hospital trying out new medicines – I’m pretty sure I’d missed, so far, over a 3rd of the semester in a number of my classes.

And way too many of my classes in that semester relied on attendance as a fairly large part of the grade. I had some teachers who did not care one bit what the excuse was.

“My lectures are a very important part of the class. And you have missed more than three [or whatever the cutoff was]. I do not care what the excuse is. The point is, you weren’t here. I don’t care if you do your homework. I don’t know how I’ll be able to justify passing you.”

Huh. Well, okay then.

Let’s pretend that all my days off school looked like this

I was mainly taking two types of classes – Music Production & Engineering (my major), and Traditional Music classes. It was the trad music teachers who were the more traditional type teachers – the “attendance really matters,” more stuffy-type people.

At Berklee, there’s this – picture the Jets vs the Sharks dancing at each other. In this scenario; one group is the cool, hip professors (such as the ones in the MP&E department). And one is a group of professors not dancing or snapping toward the other group because it’s not “proper enough.”

That’s a thing at Berklee – not wanting to do your more traditional type classes (and relentlessly making fun of them) ’cause obviously we’re all too school for (real) school.

The MP&E department was incredibly cool about it, though.

And this is where I’ll pick up next week.

Basic at The Groundlings – Part 8 (The “Fateful Wednesday (or Class Nine)” Chapter

August 21, 2012

An “I’m driven; I’m ready” look.

Sorry, I know this blog has kind of become Groundlings Stories Central lately. We’ll continue to talk about other things too, I promise.

Picking up from last time –

I came into class 9 ready to improvise! Here I am on an upswing. Strong midterm. Strong class following the midterm. I’m gonna rock this class (puts on musical theater driven/dreamy eyes).

Or not.

At the beginning of class, we played this game – “Follow the Leaver.” (Someone in the scene gives a reason to leave, then new people jump in to start the new scene of the new place where that person is going.)

There I was, watching intently and waiting to jump in. There’s the problem. Waiting. Oh boy. Of course Kevin called me out it. (Read these next two sentences in a way that terrifies you.) “Aurora, what are you waiting for? Get in there!”

Wait a second. Where have we heard this story before? Doesn’t it sound a little familiar? Oh, that’s right. It is literally the exact same thing that happened in Jordan’s class.

I knew what had happened last time in Jordan’s class. I knew that I’d melted into a puddle of a being. Sometimes half of the battle is knowing what the challenge is, right? I’m a smart girl. I’ll shake this mistake off. I will not let that day of spiraling down further into failure with each exercise happen again.

Or I will.

I could feel the same thing happening, yet I couldn’t stop it. Somehow, I lost control of my life/mind/body for a couple of hours. I could only watch my life playing out in front of me. I couldn’t do anything to stop my awful, horrible decisions in every scene.

As I sat down from the Leaver game, desperately trying to mentally wipe that exercise off of me, Kevin called me up to go first in the next exercise. Geez to goodness, man.

All of a sudden I’m beekeeping on a hippie commune. Of course, I don’t know anything about beekeeping. Or hippie communes. I don’t know anything about anything, actually.

I know, I know, I know. When you don’t know anything about the suggestion you just make it up. Anything will do. Nothing is wrong – it’s only a new opportunity to justify why something is right.

Intellectually, I know that. In the moment, I was doing a horrible job of making things up. I got paired with Sean again. Of course, he’s brilliant and was coming up with all kinds of stuff – special gas and plants and things. I did a horrible job in the “and-ing” part of “yes, and.” I would yes him, then just kind of repeat the thing he just said. (Sorry, Sean!)

I made a lot of dumb mistakes in that scene. And I got super called out for one, specifically. I said I was going to my house. But we were in a commune. So, tent was much better. But I’m an idiot and didn’t realize that people lived in tents in communes. It is possible that that was a fact I knew and just couldn’t make a coherent thought anymore. Who knows.

As we were getting toward the end of the rotation of people doing the exercise, I realized that because of the number of people in the class that day, someone would have to go twice.

Okay then. I’ll do it. He wants confidence. At least I can volunteer to put myself on the line again. That has to count for something, right?

Well, probably not when you screw it up royally. I went up there and my scene partner was this really gorgeous, sexy girl. In the scene, my character ended up coming on to her. It just happened! I didn’t think about it. We were in a spa, playing with mud. It’s sensible.

Photo Credit: Getty Images

But, I heard people literally groan at me. Ugh. “Oh, you gonna come on to the sexy girl? How original, Aurora.” (That was the subtext of the groaning – not things people actually heckled out loud. But there was, in real life, groaning.)

I jumped into my head – no one’s ever groaned at me onstage before! I mean, I guess that’s a thing that happens with comedy. And it’s really not pleasant.

It was as though I leapt out of my body, trying to escape from class. I just stood there like a total deer in the headlights – which is what my teacher said when he called me out on it. Sorry, again. Consarn it!

This is where I’ll pick up next time.

Basic at The Groundlings – Part 7 (The “Magical Class 8” Chapter)

August 20, 2012

"look, Ma!" - a young orange haired kid with bookbag holding up A+ paper
Look, Ma! They like me. They really like me!

Last time, I left off having gotten my midterm.

I called my high school theater teacher and told her that I actually had a strong midterm evaluation. In improv. Which was pretty inconceivable to me. Yet, somehow, it did happen. I have Kevin’s evaluation notes to prove it!

I thanked her again for all she taught me. I can never in my lifetime thank her enough for everything she’s done for me. She is the greatest woman. If I grow up to be 1/2 as talented, caring, passionate, interesting, and wonderful as she is; that’d be a rad accomplishment.

I told her that Kevin could tell I’d done theater. He said I was good onstage, and that I did a great job getting emotional. Most importantly, he complimented my acting!

I was so concerned with following all the rules of improv and getting everything “right,” that I never even considered for a second that someone would say anything nice about my acting. That was a pleasant surprise – and one of the reasons I felt I had to call my high school theater teacher. I reiterated that that would’ve never happened without her classes. She gave me the base for anything I ever do that is any good at all.

As per usual, she was a supportive sweetheart. She made me promise to call her right after the final. Done and done.

Our midterm was given in class 7 (of 12). The following class (class 8), we had a substitute – Guy, actually (the teacher I kind of, almost had when I sort of, almost took Basic for the first time).

Class 8 was super fun, and went incredibly well. To say the class went “incredibly well” is maybe even an understatement. Everyone was putting gems on the stage. It was easily my best class of the semester.

A classmate of mine leapt to his feet in a standing ovation after one of my scenes! Ah, laughter, applause, love. What an excellent day!

Almost as a sign to help me know I wasn’t dreaming, arguably the most talented girl in our class (who’d easily been doing the best throughout the semester) came up to me at the end. She said, “You were on fire today.”

I think it’s pretty safe to say class was just like this.
(Photo Credit: TheaterThoughts.com)

I did my silly, exaggerated “oh well, you know” face and gestures – doing that thing where you play puff your hair. She ignored my silliness, looked me in the eyes, and very genuinely and seriously said, “No, really. You were on fire. You’re hilarious. Be this free when Kevin comes back. You’re killing it.”

To know that this sweet, incredibly funny person (who was definitely going to (and easily did) pass) really thought that I was funny – it made me feel even better about the day, class in general, and myself, even. She made me feel better about everything!

I practically skipped all the way home. I gleefully called my dad. “Daddy, daddy! I might be able to improvise after all! I made people laugh today!” I think my dad was as pleasantly surprised as I was. (He’s definitely not used to getting the “improv is going so great!” phone calls. He’s more used to the “I should’ve done this, this, and that!” phone calls.)

Of course, let’s not all pretend as though I’m some comic genius here. It didn’t hurt the magical-ness of the day that I got paired with Sean – this utterly hilarious boy in my class. He is freaking masterful. Let’s give some credit where credit is due here, right?

Sean does everything in his power to make everybody on stage look great. He listens with laser focus.  He’s an exceptional scene partner – always on your side, giving you great things to go off of, always hilarious, quick, smart – all that great stuff.

All right. We did it! We all made it out alive through the class after midterms. And it was a successful day! Plus, it’s Friday! I get to live in this feeling of feeling good about myself for 4 more entire days until I have class again. Rock on!

(In case you were wondering, I did (of course) still have thoughts about what I could’ve done better in each exercise that day. But, I have so few victories in improv, that on that day, I kept pushing those voices out of my head. I didn’t want to beat myself up until I learned the day wasn’t good after all. I just want to accept a win, and happily sigh and skip down the street.)

Only have 4 classes left in the semester! What could possibly go wrong?

Find out next time when we talk about (scary chords) class 9.

I’m Gonna Say It; I Like The Rock ‘n’ Roll Series

August 17, 2012

With Rock ‘n’ Roll Providence coming up this weekend, I thought I’d take a minute to say that even though it gets hated on a lot, I like the Rock ‘n’ Roll series.

I’m not gonna pretend like I never hate on it a little. I’ve had my various complaints about certain races. But overall, I love them.

I love the huge expos. I love the great courses through fun cities. I love being surrounded by tens of thousands of runners. I like that when you do a Rock ‘n’ Roll race, it’s truly an event – not just a run.

Sometimes, I feel as though I must be weird for liking them, ’cause the Rock ‘n’ Roll races get totally blasted by some people. I used to think that one of these days I’d have that race that ruined the series for me. My eyes would be opened, and I’d jump on the “right” bandwagon (or at least the loudest).

I’ve run 8 Rock ‘n’ Roll races this year. I think that’s enough to judge. It’s not all roses and rainbows. It is incredibly annoying and inconvenient that they say you must pick up your packet the day before – with no mailing or race-day pickup options. (Really, I think they are the ones missing out on money here with fees they could charge for those things.)

However, since I’ve learned that you actually can pick up your packet on race day at the Solutions table, my only big complaint about the series has been taken away.

So, there you have it. I am taking the stance that I like the Rock ‘n’ Roll series. I don’t care how much social media I read hating on it. Unless something drastically changes at a number of future races, I like the Rock ‘n’ Roll series a lot. Hpmh.

Basic at The Groundlings – Part 6 (The “Starting My Second Time Through” Chapter)

August 16, 2012

The cartoon version of my idea of Kevin Berntson
This is sort of how I picture Kevin (minus the handing out ribbons part). This isn’t necessarily what he looks like, just kind of the idea of him.
(Photo Credit: Vectorcharacters.net)

Last time, I left off saying that my new teacher was Kevin.

From the moment I walked in the room, I knew it was going to be a great semester. Kevin had been a sub for Jordan once, and I remembered him being phenomenal.

Kevin is one is the most genuinely nice people I’ve met in Los Angeles. He seems to be from another world. He’s too nice and fun-loving for this one.

Kevin is extra not-LA. He’s like this old-timey ball of energy from the 1920s. Even though he’s not an old guy, he has this old-timey feel, see.

I think if you’ve ever had Kevin, you have a “Kevin impersonation.” Ask any one of us who’ve had him to do our impersonation. We’ll try to help you get an idea of him.

Kevin has these rays of energy that shoot from his eyes and his jazz hands. (I don’t know that I’ve ever actually seen him do jazz hands, but I do them in my Kevin impersonation.) He’s kind of like this superhero that teaches improv. No matter how incredibly nice he is, he can be terrifying.

(I’m sure that when a superhero is saving you from a burning building – no matter how kind and nice he is, and how much he is there to help you – his energy and intensity can still scare the living daylights out of you. (Kevin has laser eyes!))

Kevin will keep you on your toes without putting you down. Depending on the type of person you are (ex. me), you may have a bit of a breakdown at some point. (What’s life without breakdowns though, right?)

He pushes you as hard as he can to make you better. He notices every single thing – and calls you out for each one of them. It’s all done from a loving place, though. Kevin seems to truly care about every student he has. He wants to see every student be the best improviser she or he can be.

Kevin and his somewhat scary (but awesome) superhero-ness Credit: DC Comics
Kevin and his somewhat scary (but awesome) superhero-ness Credit: DC Comics

After all the months away from improv, I regressed back to the high schooler who had no idea what she was doing. (Granted, there wasn’t much regressing to be done, considering that’s how I ended my time in Jordan’s class.) When the midterm rolled around, I expected Kevin to rip me a new one.

(Dramatic pause.) He didn’t.

I hurried in the room and breathed out, as I sat in the chair across from him. I looked up at him, leaning forward with scared, attentive eyes.

He said I was fun to watch onstage.

What universe am I in right now?

And he said he thought I had great acting chops.

Boom, baby!

He had his notes for me, for sure. Mainly, confidence. (Sound familiar? Like, oh, I don’t know – the same note I got from Jordan? Oh boy.)

As our super short conversation was winding to a close, he said, “Sometimes people psych themselves out in the second half after a strong midterm evaluation, but I’m sure that won’t happen to you.”

Ha!

It’s funny ’cause it’s probable.

Did it happen? Find out more next time.

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 19 (Stop Being Nice to Me, Consarn It!)

August 15, 2012

Angry dad lion from The Lion King yelling in Scar's face.
Rargh! This place is not for you! I will banish everyone from my hospital room. (Photo credit: Disney)

It’s Wednesday night, so this series continues.

Picking up from last week –

I was pretty much complaining (When am I not, right?) – talking about how I would not accept almost any friendly or loving gestures from anyone. ‘Cause I was so needlessly stubborn, and all.

“Hey world, you’re not allowed to just be nice to me. You have to be nice to me for the right reasons. And the right reasons do not include the fact that I’m sick. Call me when I’m out of the hospital, yo!”

Yes, it was stubborn. Yes, it was a bit silly. And yes, I am exaggerating my attitude a little for the sake of the story. I wasn’t quite so in people’s faces about it as I’m making it out to be. (Or, maybe I was…) But, I seriously was asking (begging, pleading with) people not to come visit me.

And I still can’t promise I’d be any different now. The hospital is an uncomfortable place to have visitors. When you live your life trying to be cool, and trying constantly “win” (by doing great projects, getting accepted to things, and on and on), you have absolutely nothing to offer anyone who comes to visit you.

“How was your day?” “Well, um, a nurse brought in my breakfast tray. Then Law and Order was on twelve times in a row…”

Of course, there’s always something to talk about. Funny things happened with my new hospital friends. And I worked on scripts that I was happy to blabber on about. But still. Hopefully you kind of get what I’m saying.

Back to my classmate who offered to come play Monopoly with me –

If you asked me at any other time in my life (including now) if you could come over and play board games with me, about 99% of the time, I would say yes. (I adore board games.)

cartoon monopoly man (with white mustache) holding onto a cane and tipping hat toward us
(Credit: Parker Brothers)

But when I was in the hospital, I was saying no more than ever. Even though I desperately wanted to play Monopoly (as the opportunity doesn’t seem come up often as a grown-up), I told Caleb, “nu uh.”

Let me tell you, if people are offering to play board games with you, it’s possible that you should go ahead and do it.

(I know we’ve already established that faced with the same situation now, I would quite possibly be too stubborn (even still). But it might not be the best choice.)

Chances are, once you join the ranks of society again, people will no longer have all this time to throw at you. It doesn’t mean you’re less cool or they’re less thoughtful. It’s just an unfortunate part of life.

Going back to the beginning of last week’s post, and how I was trying to keep my illness (ew, sounds weird to be phrased like that, right? [*Puts hand on forehead in big sweeping gesture, and in damsel-in-distress-southern accent says, “my illness”*]) under wraps – I didn’t touch on the obvious question that comes out of that. Why is someone who is shouting her story from the rooftops on a blog so uptight about sharing the fact that she’s sick with anybody in her life?

At this point, years later, I’m writing a memory.

At the time, I was weak. I was confined to the hospital. My life was spiraling out of control. Who wants to share that? “Uh, hey guys! I had to quit my job. I’m failing out of a couple of classes. I’m getting bloated fat and gross (oh my), hanging out in the same room all day, day after day after day. Check me out!”

Granted, things still aren’t completely the same. I have yet to lose the rest of the weight that I gained, or pay off the rest of my debt that I incurred. My life is still affected by my heart problem, but my life is no longer run by it.

We’ll continue on next week.

Halfway There

August 14, 2012

Bon Jovi performing
Whoa, we’re halfway there!
(Photo credit: NJ.com)

In case you didn’t notice, I completed race #26, which means I’m halfway done with my challenge! Yee haw!

I’m gonna save any main conclusions and reflecting ideas for the end of the year. But I thought I’d check in and say what a 6 months it’s been!

Oh my gosh, when I think about running that half marathon on crutches, or driving to the Grand Canyon on a whim, or taking the bus over to New Orleans from Orlando just because, you know, they’re pretty close together, so why not – it makes me happy.

My dad’s first half marathon, being led to a PR by super cool strangers in Kentucky, meeting an insanely cool group of runners in San Diego, being surprised at the finish of the Hollywood Half by some amazing friends, David Petrick himself meeting me at the finish in Washington DC, vacationing with Wendy, Marty, Barbara, and Becky – and Becky’s lovely compliment time(!), my first bike ride ever (and meeting Jeanette and Jo), extending my east coast trip over and over and over again ’cause I could not bring myself to leave New York, all the amazing theater I’ve seen this year (and running into Jason Michael Snow himself on the street(!)) – all of it, everything. What a 6 months!

I don’t want to recap too much, or harp on how amazing everything has been too much, because I’ll do that at the end. If the next 6 months are even half as good as these I’ve been, I think I’m in for a lot of fun!

Your body holding up okay?
(Photo Credit: Glennz Tees)

For those of you who’ve asked how my body’s holding up – I don’t want to speak too soon, but so far, I feel great!

I will admit that I always feel better when my diet is better, and when I do yoga during the week. (I don’t love yoga, but I know it’s really good for me.)

I will also freely admit that since I’ve started a normal day job, I don’t make as much time during the week for exercise as I used to. And I don’t eat as well as I did. There’s no great excuse. There’s always a way to plan for good eating and plan for exercise.

But yeah, overall I feel great. I just need to be a bit better to myself and I’ll feel even better than I already do.

To those who’ve asked about what my goals are for the next 6 months – I want to continue to have great experiences with great people. I’ve been so lucky to come across the most fun people over these past 6 months. I would also love if I could convince some of my non-running friends to run with me.

I’d love to raise some money for Broadway Impact (the charity for which I’m super stoked to be running). Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hammer people over the head with my fundraising page, and have my whole blog revolve around “Hey you! Give money. Rargh, rargh, rargh” But, raising money (without driving people crazy) is a goal I have in the second half.

So, there you have it. Just checking in, saying yay. I am overjoyed by reminiscing over these incredibly cool six months.

Thank you so much to all of you who’ve been a part of it in any way shape or form – throwing me a plane ticket or a hotel room, running with me, saying hi at a race, writing me an email saying you’ve been inspired to keep running – you have no idea how much that means to me. The idea that I am touching other people’s lives is crazy! (And awesome.)

To everyone out there who’s following my adventures, know that I appreciate you. Thanks for everything!

Scheduling 52 Half Marathons in 52 Weeks – Part 3 (Keeping It All Organized…)

August 12, 2012

Yesterday, I left off with races getting cancelled.

It’s happened at a couple of points during the year. And it very well might happen again before the year is over.

I don’t need to call out any other specific races on the blog. The point is, rolling with the punches when races are cancelled (especially when they are part of a series), is one of the hardest parts of scheduling the 52 in 52.

Now that I’m done with all the ranting and opinion-y stuff, let’s get down the details that someone was actually asking about – how do I keep it all straight?

First off, I have an email address dedicated purely to running stuff – mailing lists I’m on, registration receipts, things along those lines. That has helped immensely. There’s a surprising amount of emails you get when running 52 half marathons in 52 weeks.

If you’ve ever run one race, think about all the emails that came along with that – reminders at times throughout the years about signing up friends, and deals, and things; reminders as the race gets closer about packet pick-up instructions, and things of that nature; emails after the race telling you congratulations, and that the results are up; and emails when the pictures come out.

Then there are those reminder emails that you should really go buy some pictures, plus reminders to sign up for next year or more races in their series. Now multiply that by 52 races.

For those of you who haven’t run a race before, don’t be worried. I’m making it sound like a lot, but individual races don’t bombard you with too many emails (or at least I don’t think so).

The emails keep you informed and excited and proud of your accomplishment afterward. But it seems like a lot when it’s coming from 52 races. So, the dedicated email address has been extremely helpful.

I also keep a color-coded calendar (using iCal on my Mac) that shows the races for which I’ve already registered, and the races I plan on doing, but haven’t registered for yet.

I set it up so that once I’m registered, I put the start time in, and it looks like any other appointment. When I haven’t registered, I mark it as an “all-day event” which puts it in an oval as a reminder to me to register. Sometimes I put extra choices on certain days in case a race doesn’t work out for some reason. Then, in a different color, I’ve set alarms for price increases and things like that.

The color-coding on my calendar for registered vs. plan on doing, but haven’t yet registered.

This is kind of an anti-climactic post. I didn’t realize until I wrote it that it’s really simple –

1) Find races through various websites and word of mouth.
2) Mark my calendar in different colors to know the difference between tentatively happening and almost certainly happening (and between registered and not registered).
3) Have one dedicated email account to keep it all organized. Boom.

I will admit that I’ve done more traveling than I anticipated, so eventually I made a dedicated email for travel.

I’m also surprised at how hard it’s been to keep all the pictures straight! Pictures don’t come out until a few days after a race is over. Oftentimes it’s cheaper to get pictures mailed than to download them. (Who knows why.) By the time a picture comes in the mail, I’ve moved on by a couple races.

And I never come home and immediately organize all the pictures in my phone, which would be the smartest thing to do. There are pictures from different sources, floating around in different places. A mess.

Plus, many times I put off getting the professional pictures, ’cause I wait for the steep discounts that come around later. So, keeping all of that straight can be hard, but obviously pictures are last on my priority list. As long as I can keep the races and the travel straight, I’m good. (And keeping those two things straight is hard enough.)

The organizing question is somewhat linked to the money question that I’ve gotten a fair amount of times at this point. How I’ve been able to afford all of this? And that is a post in the queue that I promise to get around to!

Scheduling 52 Half Marathons in 52 Weeks – Part 2 (Sometimes Races are Cancelled or Moved)

August 11, 2012

I left off yesterday talking about how sometimes races get cancelled.

For instance, I was supposed to be doing a race with The Hometown Race Series this morning. I suppose I’m about to start a mini-rant on them. (You know how much I love my rants.)

Before I do that, let me preface this by saying that so far, I’ve done one race with them. And I loved it. Every staff member and volunteer on their team, that I’ve ever communicated with, has been sweet and awesome. And The Hometown Race Series has the coolest bonus medal of any race series I’ve seen so far – it’s 13.1 inches long!

That’s what makes it that much more upsetting when it gets more and more complicated to complete their series! In order to get the special medal, I need to finish three of their races in the year.

First, I ran their Havasu Half Marathon (which was awesome). Then, I was planning on running their California Half Marathon later in the year. (My third one was (and continues to be) the Arizona Half Marathon in Goodyear on October 6. Let’s really hope that nothing happens to that one.)

The California Half was moved to 2013. Well, okay. That makes things harder, but not impossible. There is one in Nevada the day before the Columbus Half Marathon. That kind of sucks. Now that I’m working, and can’t just gallivant around anymore, I’d love to at least spend the whole weekend with my family and friends – instead of having to rush into town late the night before, and leave right after the race.

The Nevada Half is my last resort option, but at least it exists. There was also the option of this “Big Money Run” in August. The time limit is 3 hours, so I’d really be pushing it. But, it’d be conceivably possible if I could get a bit faster.

Cut to: Me on the computer a few days ago – as my life for the next 6 months is becoming clearer as far as work, and school, and things are concerned; I was cleaning out the schedule, trying to decide what I really could and couldn’t do/did and didn’t want to do. Sure enough, I see the “Vista Half Marathon” up on the Hometown Race Series schedule. That’s fabulous!

It fell on a day that I didn’t have a race, and was coming up soon (August 11th). Let’s do it. Let’s get this second race in this series out of the way. Not only would it eliminate the stress I’d put on myself with a 3-hour cutoff in the Big Money Run, it would give me get an extra day in Ohio with my friends and family (by letting me avoid the Nevada Half).

I registered immediately.

An email came not even a week later saying they’ve cancelled the race! Bummer.

Then, I go to read about the Big Money Run to see how strict that 3-hour cutoff really looks. Lo and behold, the Big Money Run had actually been transitioned into being the Vista Half Marathon (which was the one that just got cancelled). Now I’m down to my only choice being the Nevada Half Marathon the day before Columbus.

It’s really not that big of a deal. I’m over it already. I obviously see my family all the time. Just since this blog started, I’ve already seen my dad 4 times! He visited me out here in January. I stopped by and saw him in March, on my tour of the east coast. I ran his first half marathon with him in May. Then, I flew to Ohio so he could be at my first full marathon in June. So, I’ve see him a lot. A ton in fact.

Hopefully I’ll see pretty much everybody I know in Ohio on race day. If I can convince everyone to join in on the 13.1-mile party, I’ll get a few hours with a number of people I love. So, that’s the real hope.

I’m definitely not meaning to be hating on the Hometown Race Series. They put on great races. They’re sweethearts over there. I’m sure it is incredibly hard to shut down parts of a city for a race. I can imagine all the logistics that go into putting on a running event. Hats off to them that they keep trying to give us events that we’re gonna love.

But, it’s still a bummer when those events don’t happen. (And IO Events (the parent company) has “MyFirst” – a cool program for first time runners. I’m sure it’s even more of a bummer when you sign up for your first race ever and it doesn’t happen…)

This is not the only series that has cancelled or moved events – which is where I’ll pick up tomorrow.

Scheduling 52 Half Marathons in 52 Weeks – Part 1 (Planning)

August 10, 2012

square of Calendar from April/MayPeople have been asking me to post on this subject, and I’m happy to (finally) do it.

Toward the beginning of this adventure, I spent a few full days doing basically nothing but researching and scheduling. As the year progressed, things changed here and there. So, inevitably, at later points in the year, I spent a number of hours (or more full days sometimes) continuing to work on the schedule.

Early on, one of the things that made it a little hard (and a whole lotta fun) was that I was between shows. So, I never had to come home.

In February and March, I kept traveling around the east coast, often pretty much flying by the seat of my pants. I was ready to go home at a moment’s notice if a job came up, but I was absolutely reveling in the (I couldn’t come up with the right word here – imagine me with a big, genuine and truly joyous smile, happily sighing) of it all.

Working freelance, in my opinion, has more positives than negatives. However, there is one big negative – it is often next to impossible to make concrete plans for anything in the somewhat distant future.

“Will I be working weekends in three months?” “Will I get a job in Vegas, or Miami or [insert any city here]?” “Will I actually get another job that will allow me to afford to do things I love/am planning on doing?” So many unknown answers – until you’re in the future.

I had a good guess that I’d most likely get a job in L.A., and that I’d probably be working a pretty normal 5-day-week in post-production. But, I couldn’t know for sure.

I set up the schedule with the assumption that that’s what would happen. I put in some extra traveling in case I was back on hiatus. But, I had California races on the back burner in case I was working.

Turns out that now, from the future of then, I am working a nice, normal day job (that I have all the way until the beginning of January), after all. So, from here until January, I know where I’m working, and can plan the rest of everything with a lot more information available to me.

It’s nice when you get long term jobs like this, and you can actually commit to things when people ask you to make plans months in advance. Guess what, baby? I know my schedule for November. I can, in fact, tell you whether we can hang out on Thanksgiving. Bam!

Back to race planning – I utilize the Running in the USA website a lot. That’s a great place to start. From there, I found some various race series, and started working those in. If I’m going to do 52 races in one year, I might as well get those extra medals, right?

Then, I’ve heard about a bunch of races through expos, friends, email lists I get onto, and things like that. So, that helps to inform and change the schedule as well.

One of the things that made schedule finagling fun is that some series are flexible. For example, in the Rock ‘n’ Roll series, I think there are about 25 options. Their top level of run-repeater does 10 races. You only have to find 10 that work in your schedule. Then you can discard 15 that get in the way of other runs.

Then there are series with definitive races that you do or you don’t. For example, the Beach Cities series has 3 consecutive races (one in February, May, and October). You could start at any time in the last 2-ish years, but once you start you have to do them consecutively.

Sometimes there’s wiggle room. Sometimes there’s not. And trying to figure all that out got fun and puzzle-y.

So, you compare a bunch of calendars, try to synch up races with your schedule, and schedules of various series. You do your best to plan travel in a way that makes sense for you.

Then, once you hope you have it all basically figured out – a race gets cancelled. This is the hardest part of planning 52 half marathons in 52 weeks.

There are some half marathons that you can bet won’t get cancelled. If you sign up to do the Indianapolis 500 Festival, it’s happening. But, if you sign up for a small and/or new race, it might not.

This is where I’ll pick up tomorrow.

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 18 (I Was a Pain in the Butt to Many People)

August 8, 2012

Get Well Soon balloon with a bear in a little cast with a thermometer
(Photo credit: RedEarthFlowers.com)

It’s Wednesday, so this series continues.

Picking up from last week –

A fair number of people around my life didn’t know I was sick. I tried to keep it pretty well under wraps (for the most part).

(Remember, this is back in 2009. I didn’t have Facebook, or Twitter, or anything… Ah, the simpler times…)

But even though I was trying to keep it somewhat hush hush – once your teachers know, students know. Of course it also ends up getting around to everyone at work (and my dad’s work). My being sick became this information that was spreading like a virus.

I did not know how to deal with worried caring being thrust upon me. Stephen and my lovely high school theater teacher were really the only two people who could kind of calm me enough into being willing to be cared for.

Maybe it’s a little hasty to say only those two – I did have a couple of really great phone conversations with some close friends from high school. But, usually I was doing my best to push people away. It was a weird time.

On the one hand, I had a lot of time to kill in the hops. (I got a ton of writing done! There are few better places to write a musical than in the hospital.) But, because it’s the social norm to have visitors, there was a part of me that wanted a little visitor time to fill some of those hours upon hours of hanging out in a room.

However, my desire to not have visitors far outweighed my desire to have them. I had SO many people around me all the time. I was already overwhelmed between the doctors, nurses, other patients, and the super kind family (visiting one of my hospital roommates) who brought me ice cream and magazines. I couldn’t handle having any more friends on top of that!

I remember I kind of blew up a little at one of my professors when he encouraged a girl from my class to come see me. (I was not friends with this girl.) And I got angry. “Why are people talking about me? Why are people sharing the details of my hospital stays? Everybody leave me alone, already!” When I heard she was coming, I felt panicked. I thought, “I’m trapped! I can’t just make an excuse and leave!” (In the end, she didn’t visit after all.)

Classic Monopoly board (looks a little dirty, even)
Mmm board games (Photo Credit: BeyondInjury.com/Parker Bros. game)

There was a sweet guy in one of my classes who offered to come play board games with me. (I adore board games!)

As people kept offering to visit, it made me so annoyed how much attention was being paid to me while I was sick. (How completely ungrateful and horrible am I?)

Part of the reason I was annoyed was – Why don’t we ever make time for each other and play board games just because we’re friends? Why don’t we ever celebrate people, and tell them how much they’re loved, purely because we love them?

(This is totally aimed at me as well – not just out at the world.)

When I was in the hospital, I had an insane number of people looking out for me. I was being completely cared for 24/7. And I had cable! And internet! (Two things I did not have in my apartment.) I was fine. I was more than fine. I was living in a complete world full of interesting characters.

The hospital is the only place I can think of where I don’t need extra love.

I need love all the time. (Life is hard!) I need love after I get rejected from a writing program, or after I have an awful improv class, or when a great job ends and I can’t find another one. I need love just by sheer virtue of living in California. But I don’t need love for being ill.

Yet, we as humans usually don’t do the greatest job of loving people just because, or really being there for them over the small things.

Sometimes people would say, “Oh, well, being in the hospital outranks any tiny problems I have.” No it doesn’t. Whenever my friends would feel as though they couldn’t complain to me because I was going through something “real” – I found that to be a little silly.

Being sick is no more “real” than having a bad haircut, or breaking a pair of sunglasses, or moving to a different place, or any problem at all. A problem is real if it’s real for the person going through the problem.

And this is where I’ll pick up next week.

Why I Chose to Run for Marriage Equality – Part 2

August 7, 2012

Photo credit: http://www.stephanerocherphotography.co.uk

Picking up from part 1 –

People say that the word “marriage” is a religious word, and it’s very important to keep it that way. Does that mean we should ban atheists from getting married?

A man and a woman who just met could get married in SoCal today – as long as they had $56 for a marriage license. They wouldn’t have to fill out a questionnaire about whether they believe in God, or recite Bible verses, or anything of that sort. They’d be asked to show their IDs, and hand over $56.

Yet, if two religious women (or two religious men) asked for the exact same thing, they couldn’t have it.

That’s why the argument of marriage being so sacred because it’s religious, doesn’t make sense to me. The fictional atheist strangers got hitched immediately. The fictional religious gay couples got turned away. (They may have been fictional characters in a very underdeveloped story, but it’s a real thing that could happen.)

Different people interpret the Bible differently. Some believe you can be gay and be a Christian. Some don’t… I am really spiraling down a dark hole reading things on the internet. I thought wading through papers and websites and things would help me formulate more thoughts or ideas. Mainly, it’s all just making me more frustrated, and a little more confused about what people are fighting over.

(And wading through way too many websites is frying my brain, making me trip over all my words and thoughts. Sorry I’m getting a bit discombobulated here.)

I came across this video as I was reading different points of views, and it really made me sad.

Of course it’s up to each individual if he or she wants to believe in heaven or hell. (I am so not here to debate religion. I am here to talk about what’s legal and illegal in the United States.)

Each individual obviously gets to have his or her own belief on how you’d get into heaven and avoid hell. Hell (and who ostensibly goes there) is not something that can be proven. So, it’s people’s prerogative to guess who’d go there. However, if they are going to believe in hell – and I’m guessing they think it’s a pretty awful place – is it right for them to get excited about fellow human beings going there? If they’re preaching love and compassion for others, should they be giddy that fellow human beings are going to burn for eternity?

Most importantly, should they be encouraging a young child to feel that much hate in his heart?

As the song says, children are our future.
(Photo Credit: BroadwayImpact.com)

Which brings me to, I suppose, what my main point is. Marriage equality is the beginning.

It’s the beginning of making the LGBT community equal in every way. We’ve heard and seen the reports on bullying, and the heartbreaking stories of people taking their own lives.

It’s painful to know that so many people feel they have to live a life as someone they’re not. How incredibly hard would it be to constantly have to be somebody else?

As long as people are discriminated against based on their sexuality – I will fight for equality. To me, it’s not about getting married. It’s about members of the LGBT community being accepted in every place in society – in every city, in every business, in every job interview – everywhere.

We are all human beings. There’s no reason to treat another human being as less than another one – especially not for something as trivial as the gender of the partner they choose to stick with them through this life.

Life is hard enough without the pain and exhaustion of reconciling hateful views of other people with a part of who you are – a part of you that you live with day in and day out.

Because this topic makes me so emotional, I get worried that sometimes my words fail me. I wish I were more eloquent. I may not be able to have all the answers or phrase things perfectly, but I can run for you. I can sing and dance for you. I can work to raise as much money for Broadway Impact as possible.

With that money, people who have more influence than I do, and who have action plans, and who are more eloquent than I am, can go and change things. And I will be immensely proud to be any part of that at all – even if it’s a small part.

If you’d like to donate, it would mean a great deal to me. Click here to go to my fundraising page. If you want to help, but can’t donate at this time, feel free to spread the link around!

Thank you!

Why I Chose to Run for Marriage Equality – Part 1

August 6, 2012

Woot! Raising money for charity, yo!

I’ve realized this post is more “Why I Believe in Marriage Equality” as opposed to “Why I Chose to Run for It.” To find out why 52 half marathons in 52 weeks and how marriage equality fits into that – go here.

As you saw yesterday, I added a charity to a running adventure!

I am unbelievably excited to be raising money for Broadway Impact throughout the rest of my 52 half marathons.

To visit my fundraising page, please click here!

I’m singing, dancing, adventuring, and more to help earn money.  So, if you want to be serenaded, if you want a pacer in a race, if you want someone to climb a mountain with you – please go to my page and let’s work together to get this organization as much money as we can!

To read more about Broadway Impact, and the awesome work they’re doing for marriage equality, you can check out their website here.

In the near-ish future, I’ll sprinkle in posts here and there on why I chose to add a charity, and how I got started with Broadway Impact. Tonight I want to get to the biggest thing – why I chose to run for marriage equality.

I suppose this choice is somewhat controversial, since obviously not everyone believes in marriage equality (or else, we’d already have it). I’ll start by saying – I’m not here to fight. I’m not here to yell. I’m not here to bully people about my beliefs.

I’m just really pumped to be able to use my running adventure to help an organization that I really believe in.

(I think it’s somewhat likely that I will lose some blog followers over my beliefs, but I’d rather do good than do well.)

It’s been pointed out to me that I apologize a lot on this blog – for posting a blurry picture, for doing something that makes me look stupid, for going on a rant, or complaining about something. But my belief in marriage equality is one thing that comes without apology.

Some of you may be wondering why someone who doesn’t really believe in marriage at all wants to make her main stance be one for same-sex marriage.

Because I believe in equality.

I’ve sat at my computer for a while now, staring at the screen, writing down thoughts, starting over, writing more thoughts, researching various same-sex related issues, and on and on.

I don’t know exactly what to say.

What I want to say is that I don’t understand how we don’t already have marriage equality. I cannot wrap my mind around it. But, I don’t want to use loaded language or back anyone into a corner. Just because I cannot fully understand does not mean I’m not listening. I’m listening. I’m listening to people quote Bible verses and make arguments. Sometimes I get emotional. That may not surprise you by a girl who cries over torn pants (obviously this is on a level much deeper than pants).

It’s so easy to do this – la, la, la. I can’t hear you!

Part of the reason why it’s so easy to fight or yell or turn off our ears to others is because the issue can make people so emotional. I am emotional when I think about friends of mine being denied the 1,400 rights that come with being married. (That’s a whole lot of rights.)

It’s easy for conversations to ramp up quite quickly. While reading and reading, doing research for this post, trying to see if statistics or essays could help me to better formulate my words, I came upon a website called ChristianAnswers.net. Among other things, it says, “Less than 5% of gays have ever had a relationship that lasted 3 years or more.” No citations.

At first, I spent some time here elaborating on knowing plenty of same-sex couples who’ve been together for more than 3 years, and knowing plenty of straight people who’ve never had a relationship that lasted longer than 3 years (I haven’t), and asking why this would be a fact that even matters. But, this whole 3 years thing is not what we’re all getting hung up on, so I’m gonna try to quiet my over-talking and move on.

The author of the article was saying a lot of hateful (and untrue) things. If he had been talking to me in person, it would’ve been easy for automatic responses to take over. It would’ve been human to want to yell and scream (and maybe toss a table over as though I were a “Real Housewife of Beverly Hills” or something).

The Family Research Council uses the word “monogamous” in quotation marks when it refers to homosexual couples in a “report” on it’s website.

It’s really important for me to remember that when I ask other people to be tolerant, I need to be tolerant as well. I have to listen. I have to learn as many facts as I can, because that is the only way I can ever fight to win.

Photo credit: HRC.org

Sometimes, it’s very painful to listen to people who are against same-sex marriage, but I’ve got to listen. I’ve got to know what I’m fighting against.

Onto said fight –

One of the things I see brought up the most about same-sex marriage:

Q: Why isn’t a civil union good enough?

My answer: When has separate but equal ever been good enough?

And this is where I’ll pick up in one minute.

Thank You Options for Your Donations to Broadway Impact

August 5, 2012

Edited to add: Hey y’all! I’m still fundraising for various races, but this 2012 idea has timed out. So, I’m no longer offering these things… But if you really want something, write me and we’ll see if we can work it out! 🙂

In case you didn’t come here from my fundraising page, here’s a link to it: Click me!

And in case you haven’t heard, I’m running for charity, yo!

I am unbelievably excited about running for Broadway Impact. More on that in tomorrow’s blog post. For now, let me tell you what I’m offering* as my way to say thanks for your donations:

(Skip down below these fun things for answers to some questions.)

$20 donation – Personalized thank you card. In the mail and everything.

$30 donation – Thank you video. (Don’t get too excited – no fancy editing and action sequences, just me talking. (There will possibly be jokes or character voices. We’ll see.))

$49 donation – Iʼll serenade you with a song!
Whatever song you want – pop, musical theater, jazz, rock, rap, whatever. You name it, Iʼll do it. Iʼll even perform it for you up to 5 times, and you can give me notes in between (or shout them at me mid-song!) on how youʼd like it to be different (either guiding me to the performance you want, or just playing around for fun. Example: “This time do it as though youʼre being born at the beginning of the song and you age throughout, and at the end you die.” “Now do it while crumping!” “Now do it as a robot!” “Now a sexy robot.” and on and on). (Duets accepted for sure, if youʼd rather sing together.)

(Donate enough for 4 songs, I’ll throw in a 5th one for fun.)

$99 donation – Iʼll learn a dance for you.
My gymnastics are non-existent, and my tap dancing is sub-par. But, I will estimate choreography as best as I can for you to any song. If we canʼt find the choreography anywhere, Iʼm happy to make it up with/for you. Again, Iʼll perform the song up to 5 times taking whatever notes you want to give. In case you want to see an example, click here to watch the time I learned the Single Ladies dance for a class I was in.

(Donate enough for 4 songs, I’ll throw in a 5th one for fun.)

$108 donation – I will pace you in a half marathon.
Now, in case you havenʼt seen, Iʼm mighty slow. So, this is really only for people who want to finish in about 3 1/2 – 4 hours. But if you just want to have someone there to make sure that you donʼt quit and that youʼre entertained, well, then Iʼm your girl. Whatever you want – trivia at every mile, jokes, stories – you want it, you got it.

$129 donation – Song and dance.
Separately or together. If you want me to break out a song and dance to “I Canʼt Do It Alone” from Chicago, Iʼm in. If you want me to belt out a ballad from Dreamgirls, then dance to a Britney Spears song, you got it. Again, whatever songs you pick, you get ʻem up to 5 times with whatever notes you want to give me.

(Donate enough for 4 songs, I’ll throw in a 5th one for fun.)

$250 donation – We get to spend the day together!
Wanna climb a mountain, or take a road trip, or karaoke all day? Wanna sit around and watch the entire series of Seinfeld? Wanna eat Chipotle, then catch a movie at Graumanʼs? All day at Disneyland, maybe? Do you want me to just come over and do your laundry and vacuum? I am up for almost any adventure you want to have – but I donʼt pet animals (or hang out anywhere close to dogs), and I canʼt swim.

$495 donation – I will act out an entire musical for (or with) you.
Want to see me play every part in The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee? Do you want me to recreate my performance (only better (hopefully)) of Tell Me On A Sunday – that one person Andrew Lloyd Webber musical I did in high school? Want me to play Cathy and you can play Jamie in The Last 5 Years? Whatever part(s) of whatever musicals you want me to see act out in your living room – Iʼm in.

*If somehow people start throwing money at me, I may discontinue certain things, change prices on certain things, or start other things. So, this list is subject to change.

Question Section:

1) Where do you come perform these things for me?

Wherever you want, pretty much. Your living room, your backyard, my living room, the park, wherever.

2) What if I donʼt live in California?

Well, Iʼm on the east coast all the time. So, if youʼre in New York or DC, or anywhere around there, weʼre cool. Iʼm also doing a fair amount of traveling for my 52 half marathons in 52 weeks. So, if Iʼm coming to your state, Iʼll perform for you then. I also visit the midwest a fair amount to see my family, so if youʼre in Ohio, or any of the neighboring states, weʼre cool.
If youʼre not visiting any of the places Iʼve mentioned, and Iʼm not visiting the state where you live, thereʼs always Skype!

3) Can I pool my money with my friends and have 10 of us sit around my den and watch you act out The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee in itʼs entirety?

Sure! Why not?

4) So, Aurora I feel weird asking you to come over and do a song for me, because I am not friends with you, and youʼre not famous. Youʼre just some girl and I stumbled across this fundraising page on the world wide web.

Please, donʼt feel weird! I love meeting strangers. I love becoming better friends with acquaintances. I love getting hassled by my current friends. Whoever you are – whether Iʼve met you once, a million times, or never – I would be absolutely delighted to perform for you, or run with you, or spend the day with you.

5) Um, who do you think you are? Selling time with you and your performances? Do you think youʼre as talented as Jason Michael Snow or something?

Nope. Definitely not. (Golly, I adore Jason Michael Snow. Iʼd make a donation to get him to serenade me, for sure!) The only skills I have to offer are performing and hanging out skills. I canʼt fix a car, or paint a picture, or do a whole lot of other things. But I can sing and dance for you. Iʼve had some requests from various friends over the last couple of years to perform for them more often. So, here is everyoneʼs chance to make me perform as much as they want!

Got more questions?

Great, email me. Thanks so much for reading!

“My First Half Marathon” – Vicky

August 2, 2012

This past weekend, my friend Vicky did her first half marathon with me. I asked if she would share her experience in the form of a guest blog. Graciously, she agreed to write one. Take it away, Vicky!

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Aurora and Vicky running Vicky's first half marathon - side viewI’ve always wanted to run a half a marathon. It’s always been on my bucket list. However I always found some reason or another to put it off.

I ran cross country all four years in high school, and by the time college came along I found myself burnt out on running. I struggled for the last few years to gain back that passion I always had in high school.

So fast forward to this summer. I’m now a senior in college and I’m out in L.A. for a summer internship. While in L.A. I decided to make the most of my short time and take improv classes at The Groundlings. Improv is something that has also been of interest to me, and on the first day of class, I was excited to not only learn improv, but meet some awesome people in the process. One girl in particular I know really stood out to me. Here was a girl in “I Love New York” pajama bottoms and a sweet “Bad” cap. Upon meeting her, I discovered she was one of the kindest, sweetest, and most enthusiastic people I have ever have had the pleasure to know. As I’m sure you all know, this girl was Aurora.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Aurora and I became friends. She was always encouraging me to me to run a half marathon with her, and I must say I was tempted, but I always found some excuse.

First of all, I don’t really run much nowadays. Don’t get me wrong, I’d been going to the gym very faithfully this whole summer and would get on the treadmill a few times, but mostly I stuck to the elliptical machine and weight training. The most I ran the whole summer was three miles, and the idea of 10 ten additional miles seemed overwhelming, so I continued to find excuses not to.

So finally, this last Friday night, I saw Aurora had posted a request on facebook for someone to join her in Long Beach the next day (Saturday). For once, I didn’t have any real excuse not to. I knew it would mean a lot to Aurora, so hesitantly I responded. Aurora replied ever so enthusiastically that the race started at 6:30. My first though was: “In the morning?!” Ick! I am not a morning person, ask anyone who knows me. Now I really did not want to do it. However I knew I had already got Aurora’s hopes up, and I would feel bad backing out now. Besides, with only a week left in L.A. this would be my last chance to run with my friend. All right, “I’ll do it.” I thought.

Aurora and Vicky running into the finish at a half marathon in Long Beach 2012So the night before the race I had a dinner of champions: a barbeque tri tip sandwich, mac and cheese, and a whole container of Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia. Yep. Who needs Wheaties. I finished watching the opening ceremonies and then headed off to bed around midnight. 5 a.m. came way too soon. I was quickly regretting this last minute decision. However I made a commitment. At 5:30 a.m. I got into my car and began the drive to Long Beach.

At around 6:00 a.m. I picked Aurora up at the station and together we drove the last 3 miles to the race. By the time we parked and got to the starting line, it was time to begin. Before I knew it, we were off and running. Over the course of the race Aurora and I had many great conversations. I couldn’t believe how fast the race went. I guess that’s what happens when you put two people in a race who love to talk. When we finally crossed the finish line, I was so glad I made the decision to say yes. It turned out to be much easier than I ever expected, not to mention a lot more fun. It was a great experience and a great way to spend my last Saturday in L.A.

So thank you Aurora for not only the invite, but the many laughs and smiles we shared along the way.

And I want to highly encourage anyone who has ever thought about running a half a marathon to say yes to that opportunity. And if you are in need of a great running partner, I heard Aurora might be up for a few more this year. 

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Aurora’s response: Thank you for such a sweet, funny entry (and for running with me)!

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 17 (I Didn’t Necessarily Tell My Dad That I Was In The Hospital Again)

August 1, 2012

Aurora rolling her eyes hard
Unfortunately, I don’t have any pictures available of me being super bratty as a child. So, here’s a facial expression to try to give the same tone. 🙂

It’s Wednesday night, so this series continues.

Picking up from last week – I didn’t tell my dad that doctors were going into my heart again.

Oh goodness. How do I tell this part of the story without sounding selfish or spoiled or any bad adjectives? Well, I don’t know. Maybe I will sound like those things… I was hard to deal with when I was in the hospital.

My parents seemed to be overly nervous about the whole thing, so it was easier to keep them in the dark as much as possible – although, it was also hard to do that.

My dad and I have a tendency to talk every day – which becomes harder when you’re in the hospital with beeping machines everywhere, yet you don’t want your dad to know that you are in said hospital.

Obviously, I love my dad so much. But, some parents feel a need to protect their kids just a little too much. Last time he dropped everything and came out to Boston – for nothing. I didn’t want him to feel pressured to miss work again. And I certainly didn’t want him sending anyone in his place.

You should meet my grandma – she’s a big ball of worry. I love her to pieces, but she is the worst person to have around you if you want to zen out. “Boston is dangerous. Working in entertainment is dangerous. Illness is dangerous. Everything is dangerous.”

My dad was not happy when he found out I was back in the hospital and neglected to let him know. But, I think he maybe got over it…

He didn’t have enough time to get up to Massachusetts once he did find out. No need to freak out, I’m obviously totally fine (as I knew I would be). Everything worked out for everybody, is how I like to think about it. (I like to talk about it nonchalantly, because I don’t want to allow myself to think that I actually hurt my dad’s feelings.)

How exactly did my dad find out, you ask? Well, I had to have some kind of proxy person on the off-chance something went wrong. I called one of my great friends whom I’ve known since childhood, and asked if he’d be my person. He said yes.

Then instead of just being my person, he called my dad and narked on me! (He’s like a son to my dad, so I understand his allegiance. But still!)

I had the test/ablation on Friday, November 6. And I was let out of the hospital on, I’m pretty sure, the 11th. I think the extra days were because the doctors started me on a medicine, and wanted to give my heart another test on the 10th to see how it was reacting to said medicine.

I think I had a number of tests that week. I don’t remember which tests I had, or when they all took place, but I definitely remember running on treadmills at Mass Gen, and just generally having my heart looked at from every which way at some point, in some week. The doctors were gonna be sure not to miss a thing.

Speaking of tests – I think it was during this hospital stint that it happened.

So, they put me on beta-blockers. After a few days of the nurses coming and watching me as I took my medicine (since we all know how much I hate medicine), a doctor put me on a treadmill. And I pushed.

The doctor said we could stop, but I would not have it! I could definitely run faster than the piddly speed at which they had me. Suddenly, I was sitting on the treadmill, and someone was helping me up. Apparently I had a pre-syncopal episode.

I have no recollection of the treadmill stopping or my falling over. I just remember the lesson that if I took my medicine, I absolutely could not jog the way I used to. My body would abort the mission if my heart got to a certain (not very high) speed. I think the doctors knew that I never would’ve trusted that on faith alone, so they showed me. Touché, doctors.

I’ll elaborate about the big pain in the butt I was to my friends and family, while I was in the hospital, next week.

The Bus Ride Home from San Francisco

July 31, 2012

The post about The San Francisco 2nd Half Marathon is finished, but I thought I’d also throw in a post about the trip home.

After the race was over, I picked up my chocolate milk and a banana, and walked back to the Greyhound bus station. There was a bus leaving in about 20 minutes (and not another one for about 4 hours), so I wanted to jump on this next one!

I got to the bus station, and went straight on a bus. Surprisingly (and wonderfully) it wasn’t all that crowded. I got the whole little two-seater row all to myself. P-pow. I fell asleep the moment we started moving. I woke up about an hour and a half later, and I realized that it maybe wasn’t the smartest idea to walk straight from a finish line of a race to a bus where I’d sit for the next 8 or so hours. I was woefully under-prepared. (I feel as though that’s a theme in many of the stories I tell. Maybe someday I’ll learn how to think ahead. Maybe)

I started to feel like Elaine in that Seinfeld episode where she gets stuck on the train. As I looked out the window of the bus, thinking about how cranky, cramped, and crazy hungry I get on those long bus rides – I saw a sign for an exit that had a Carl’s Jr. I thought about how amazing it would be if we could just pull off at that exit.

I am so hungry! And I have to use the bathroom. (And I don’t want to go to the one on this bus!) (And I want to stretch in a bigger area than my seat or the aisle. I want so many things!) Wah, wah, wah.

The bus started getting off at the exit. “Are we honestly getting off an an exit? Are we stopping? What’s happening? Please, please, please be stopping at Carl’s Jr.,” I screamed in my head. We started to turn in that direction. Sure enough, the bus parked for a 30-minute break! I’m gonna go ahead and say that I willed it happen.

I then proceeded to order every single thing on the Carl’s Jr. menu. That’s an exaggeration. But I did get some chili cheese fries. I’d been craving them forever, and they’re the most delicious thing in all of California. (Sorry, New Yorkers! That’s one thing we’ve got that you don’t! Bam!)

I stretched out in the enormous parking lot, used the restroom (not in the parking lot), got some amazing food (and tons of water, plus some snacks from the gas station in case I got hungry later). I got back on the bus and settled in. I was full, content, and prepared for the ride. Good times.

(#26) Wipro San Francisco 2nd Half Marathon – Part 2 (Letting Loose)

July 30, 2012

Picking up from yesterday –

I was talking about how cool and fun the runners are in San Francisco. Remember that episode of Friends where Phoebe runs as though no one is watching? A girl passed me who was running like that. It was amazing. Even when the runners were talking to the spectators, they did it with such enthusiasm. (Spectator: “Great job!” Runner: “Thank you, baby!”)

Speaking of the spectators, they were amazing and full of energy too. There was this adorable guy with a baby face who was cheering for people by name as we went by. (Our names were on our bib.) He said, “Aurora, very nice job today,” with all the sweetness and sincerity that he would’ve if he were someone who knew me and really cared about me. Thank you so much, stranger.

There was also this fun group of 3 people sitting on a little balcony/roof-type area blasting Gansta’s Paradise – and rapping along. It was amazing. I cheered for them, then rapped along as I went on by. Later, I went by a house that was blasting the entirety of of a Michael Jackson concert. (I want to say it was the Live in Bucharest: The Dangerous Tour concert, but I’m not sure.) It was the full audio from a live performance – the transitions, the remixes, Michael’s talking parts to the audience, the audience cheering. Excellent, right?

Keep spending most our life living in a Gangsta’s Paradise…

There were so many great supporters. There was a group of guys giving high fives. I danced on up to them, full of energy. They clapped for me. and danced along as well. “You go, girl! Werk!” That was too fun. There was a super enthusiastic group from Strava cheering everyone on. There was a volunteer at a corner who bowed to people as we went by. “I’m not worthy! I’m so proud of you!” Operation Access had a table where they gave us free cupcakes! (The cupcakes were delicious.)

Some other things of note about the race: About 5 or 6 miles in to the 2nd half marathon, we passed right by the finish of the 1st half – right next to it. So, that was fun.

There were various turnarounds here and there. The 5-mile sign was facing the wrong direction, so we all saw the mile marker 5 not long at all after our first 5k was done. (We weren’t actually supposed to see it until after the whole next loop.) We all started looking around at each other, confused. “Hey, I know we’re having the time of our lives out here and everything, but I’m pretty sure 1.9 miles didn’t go that quickly…”

I enjoyed all the turnarounds. It was fun to see runners in different directions and all around you – as though we were in a fun maze or something.

In other funny things: There’s often unofficial beer at races. At this race, a man at a water stop was saying, “We got water, then Gatorade back there, and beer right behind it.” Hilarious, no? We also ran by a huge stadium apparently right before a game – and all these people were tailgating. There were hot dogs and hamburgers everywhere. It was a tease. We still had a couple of miles ahead of us.

I loved this view.

There was an area where a lot of cross streets were still partially open to traffic, so I got an excellent workout as I made a game out of sprinting through every one right before the police would open it back up to traffic.

When I got to the end, I saw the marathoners get a humongous medal. We got one about 1/4 of the size. I understand that they did double the distance. But, really? The difference between the medals was comical. I almost kind of thought it might be a joke. It wasn’t.

Either way, I still appreciated my medal – which was placed on me by a handsome member of the Coast Guard, in uniform.

What a race! I had an absolute blast. I think it’s a great event that’s run well. I loved the vibe and the city. I’d be happy to come back next year.

(#26) Wipro San Francisco 2nd Half Marathon – Part 1 (Getting to the Start)

July 29, 2012

“2nd half marathon? What does that mean,” you may be asking.

Well, you could choose to run the full or the half (not unlike other races) – but when choosing to run the half, you could pick between the 1st half and the 2nd half. Interesting, right? I was intrigued. I imagine a good amount of extra planning goes into this event with two separate start and finish lines, but it’s a great way to encourage people to repeat this race. They have all sorts of programs to encourage repeaters – The “Half if All Challenge” (1st and 2nd half marathons (in either order) on consecutive years), the “52 Club” (for people who’ve done 52.4 miles over 3 years – both halves followed by the full), and more. Smart, SF Marathon. Smart.

I chose the 2nd half because there was a more relaxed time limit, and I heard the 2nd half’s course was less difficult. (What a lazy sentence I just wrote, huh?) I loved the 2nd half. (And I would love to rock the 1st half next year.)

I started the morning by rolling off of the Greyhound bus around 5am. I freshened up a little in the Greyhound station’s bathroom, then made my way to the race.

I have a couple of rotating outfits that I like to run in, but I’ve been getting less persnickety about the whole thing as the year goes on. Right before leaving my apartment for San Fran, I just grabbed the last clean outfit I had and thought, “this’ll do.”

Conveniently, the start line/shuttle bus stop to the 2nd half was only blocks away from the Greyhound station. I walked on down, picked up my bib, and got on the shuttle bus. (There was a shuttle that took you from the start of the race to the start of the 2nd half.)

While sitting on the shuttle, I overheard a number of interesting conversations. I heard a woman say that she hadn’t done a full marathon in years and wasn’t sure if she could do another one or not at this point. Of course, I piped up. “Whoever just said they donʼt know if they could now or not – you could. You can do anything if you believe you can.” Iʼm so obnoxious, right? But she looked at me and smiled. Everyone around us smiled, and we all became friends. So, it was all good.

There was this super cool man on the bus named Dana who had a hilarious story about being an “ultra-half-marathoner,” which was his best way to succinctly explain getting totally lost on the course and doing extra miles. He also was talking about training for a Half Ironman! I was happy to have him perking us all up and brightening out mornings.

Once the bus got to the start of the 2nd half, we had a good amount of time to kill before we all started. Little groups formed around standing heaters. I met some people doing their first race, and some people who race all the time. I met someone from London who had flown all the way to California for this race! (It was her birthday celebration.)

I felt a bit bad, because I love meeting new people, but I’m pretty sure I was not giving off quite as much energy and love as I like to. At some points I was basically falling asleep standing up with my eyes open. (However, I knew once the race started, I’d be into it. Of course, that doesn’t help the new friends I met by the heaters… Oh well.)

Eventually, some full marathoners started passing by, and we lined up in our corrals. Before you know it, we were off!

I love San Francisco, and I love the runners there. You know how I’m always talking about my dance running and dance walking? Tons of people do it here! I saw lots of people jamming out as they ran by. I used to feel kind of foolish, thinking I probably looked like an idiot when I was rocking out, but everyone looked cool. We all knew what they were doing. It wasn’t odd or out of place. They just looked comfortable in being silly and they looked like they were having loads of fun. Power to you, dance runners!

And this is where I’ll pick up tomorrow.

(#25) Seashore Half Marathon

July 28, 2012

My friend Vicky’s summer in LA is over in less than a week! That made it all that much more special that I got to spend this morning with her. We’ve both gotten pretty busy over the past few weeks, and I’d forgotten how much fun we have when we’re together.

Having her run with me gave me extra motivation to get up and go to this race (for which I had not yet registered). I saw a lot of great shows this week, which is wonderful. But it also means that I didn’t get tons of sleep. (What’s new, right?) It would’ve been so easy to sleep in, but not when someone is counting on me to go run with her! People make a huge difference in life.

I usually love big, huge races. I like spectators, bands, making friends with strangers – all that jazz. Today’s race was super low-key. There were only about 50 people and it was along an open bike path in Long Beach. (The route was the same as my Fun in the Sun Half Marathon July 8th.)

Sometimes people associate “low-key” races with being poorly run, or really cheap (cheap in the sub-par quality sense, not the inexpensive sense). However, low-key here just means it’s not a big, speakers-blaring, bright, spectacle-filled 13.1-mile dance party. It’s more like a smaller 13.1-mile cocktail party – still a party, still allows you to spend time with great people, still has food and drink. It has everything you need. It’s very fun in its own, different way.

To me, having a running buddy in a race like this makes all the difference in the world. If you’re running alone in a huge race (such as a Rock ‘n’ Roll event, or a big city marathon), there’s enough going on to keep you entertained throughout. If you’re on a bike path in Long Beach, it is scenic, and it’s nice to have time alone with your thoughts every once in a while. But the 13 miles can start to feel a little long.

I couldn’t believe how quickly the day moved with Vicky! It didn’t even feel like a half marathon. It just felt like a lovely morning with a friend. I was amazed at how much we had to talk about, but I probably shouldn’t have been. We’re two pretty talkative girls who have strong opinions on a number of things. We agree on a lot, and we disagree on certain things that aren’t serious enough to actually get upset about (example: our favorite actors, and what kind of acting styles we prefer). But we’re passionate enough about those topics to let the debates rage on. That keeps the conversation flowing for miles.

By 7 miles in, we hadn’t even scratched the surface of all our conversation topics of the day – and we were already over halfway done! I could’ve easily made it a full marathon and gone another 13.1 miles with her. (They wouldn’t have been fast miles, but they would’ve been fun.)

Speaking of not being fast, Vicky was kind, and slowed her pace so that I could keep up. (She’s definitely way more of an athlete than I am.) (Just so we know that I’m not always the one that’s taking – When her foot starting bothering her a little once we got into double-digit miles, I slowed for her. So, you know, friendship, taking turns, all that good stuff.)

When we got to the finish, Mark and Michelle – the co-race directors – were there with our medals, and a super stocked table of snacks and drinks. Mark and Michelle have such wonderful attitudes that just radiate from them. They seem excited about runners, running, and life in general.

I never thought I’d be a person who likes “low-key” events. (And trust me, I don’t like all of them.) But, I do really like Rocket Racing Productions, and am so down to continue to do more races with them in the future.

This was a gorgeous day. The scenery was really pretty – especially this little section on a boardwalk where we looked out and saw this sparkling water. It was an excellent morning.

Sadly, I won’t get to see her again for a long time, but obviously with the internet and cell phones, we’ll still get to argue over which actors are funnier.

Even though this wasn’t saying goodbye, I couldn’t have thought of a better way to say so long for now, than to run this race with her.

Flying Trapeze (June 2012’s Something New) – Part 2 (Oof. I Pretty Much Failed At This)

July 26, 2012

Aurora De Lucia prepping for flying trapeze back view Picking up from Tuesday –

“Okay, Aurora. This time, really use the momentum to get your feet over the bar. Jump off like you’re a banana. Make a banana shape in the air, then whip your feet around when we tell you to.”

“Gotcha. Sounds simple enough. I’m all about it.”

Or not. They yell for me to flip my feet over, and it’s not happening. My arms are barely holding on, and my abs are no help whatsoever in swinging my legs around. Goodness gracious. I jump down into the net again, followed by another flip back onto solid ground.

Jaclyn was getting the hang of it much better than I was. By the end of the day, she was able to swing into the arms of a staff member who got on the opposite trapeze and flew toward her! Not me. I never even get my own feet over the bar!

In between turns, I had little practice sessions with staff members, simulating from the ground what the jump would be like. They told me to picture going through a basketball hoop, so that I’d have a nice, tight, controlled jump. My attempts to replicate these ideas in the air never worked out as well as my brilliant practice hops on the ground.

Also, I think it’s possible that we all might be underestimating precisely how little arm strength I have. It was surprisingly tiring just to swing around in the air for a minute a few times. By my 4th and final turn, I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to hold onto the bar long enough to jump off of the platform. My arms were so tired.

But I pushed myself to do it anyway. I’ve been trying lately to push myself a little father than I think I can go, in most things that I do. (Even if it doesn’t work out great, I have that satisfaction of giving that extra little umph.)

On that 4th try, I did in fact hold onto the bar long enough to swing through the air. But I was panicking with my dead arms the whole time.

There was an “I Can’t” bucket that you were supposed to put a dollar in every time you said “I can’t.” Thank goodness it wasn’t enforced, or I’d be poor now. From the moment I jumped off of the platform that 4th time to the moment I landed in the net – “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!”

Speaking of penalties they had – in case you’re wondering why my whole face is exposed to the elements in all of the pictures – you weren’t allowed to wear a hat or sunglasses while trapezing. (Yes, I still know it’s not a word. I’m using it anyway.)

The official phrasing of their rule was if you wore a hat or sunglasses, you had to buy everyone a drink (which might’ve been worth it for the protection from the sun). However, the real rule was you couldn’t fly if you were wearing your hat and sunglasses.

(Don’t worry. I layered sunscreen and put my hat on between turns.) My forehead was pretty safe.

Overall, I had a blast trying flying trapeze with Jaclyn. Sure, I failed pretty miserably. But, my teacher in a different (non-trapeze) class said something great this past Saturday – he said you want to go for A’s and F’s. You don’t learn a lot from C’s. If you swing huge and miss huge – having a big ol’ failure in the process – you’ll probably learn and grow (and give yourself a chance for a huge success). But if you just get by – well, then you just get by.

So, I failed at being graceful and flying into someone’s arms. But I loved flying (and spending time with such a sweet, fun friend). And at some point, I’m coming back to flying trapeze with a vengeance (after hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of push-ups)!