That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 41 (The “Why Didn’t You Just Move Back In With Your Parents?” Chapter)

December 23, 2012

Not me, suckas!
Not me, suckas!

Picking up from yesterday

Before I get to the beautiful part of the story, let me just quickly address the question some people have.

“Why didn’t you just move back to Ohio with your parents?”

I made a promise to myself when I was much younger that when I graduated high school, I would leave and I would not move back.

I knew that there would be struggles, but I promised to face them head on.

Many people can live a happy life in the Midwest. But as someone who wanted to work in the entertainment industry, I believe that if I had to move back in with my parents in Ohio, it would be a sign of failure. I wasn’t ready to fail.

Not to mention, I’d felt so pitied when I was sick. I didn’t want to play into that. “Wah, wah, poor Aurora got so sick. Now she needs to be taken care of by her parents.”

I felt that I was an adult and it was time to act like one and figure out a way to figure out making my life work.

(“Where were all your New York friends?” might also be a question that comes up. Some of them lived in dorms and were only allowed visitors on certain nights and things. Some of them were out of town doing shows in other places or studying abroad. Many of them did help me with a place to stay when they could. But, it’s not their job to take care of me. I love my friends, but you can only ask so much of them, you know?)

Now, do I think it was the smartest idea to not move back in with my parents?

Well, the cons of being too proud to do that are that I’m still not back to my pre-surgery weight. Granted, I haven’t made it my top priority and maybe I should’ve. I’m also still carrying some debt. Obviously, I’m paying it off and have a much easier time making payments now.

But had I moved back in with my parents and taken a year or so to just focus on me, I probably could’ve gotten my health and bank account in order. You never know what would’ve happened, but it might have been smart.

...But they do look so happy...
…But they do look so happy…

Some successful people lived with their parents for a while. I think Kanye West lived with his mom until he was 26. In the end, I think that perhaps the real “grown up,” or the real person who can feel pride in her decisions, is the one who takes every advantage she can even if that means living with her parents. It’s the one who is humble enough to ask for help when she needs it. Pride is not always good. Humility is often a good trait. (I think both pride and humility can be good and bad in different circumstances.)

But, forgetting the cons of not moving back with my parents – there were some pros.

I have lived with nothing and have been shown that that’s totally doable and okay. Sure, I have a swanky apartment and iPhone now. But if I had to lose it all, I could, armed with the knowledge that I’ve survived before. I certainly could do it again.

I also think I’m slightly more thankful for things I do have. I’ve lived in my place for over a year and a half, and I still marvel at the wonderfulness of it.

Not to mention, whether it was stupid or smart, or who knows what it was, I will always the fact that I never moved back in with my parents after high school. To me, that was something I wanted. And I get to hold dear that little fact about myself.

In the words of Fred Astaire (and more famously Frank Sinatra), they can’t take that away from me.

I’ll pick back up with the story tomorrow.

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 40 (The “2nd Homeless Shelter” Chapter)

December 22, 2012

(Photo Credit: BostonBookBums.com)
(Photo Credit: BostonBookBums.com)

Picking up from yesterday

Before I get to the part about the second homeless shelter, let me just touch on something I learned in that time that I did not know before. Did you know there’s kind of like this little network of homeless people?

Before I started transitioning to a shelter for a long-term solution, and I was just spending a couple of nights on the streets between places, I started overhearing these conversations of people strategizing together about where they’d stay next and pros and cons of places. There were people worrying about other homeless people, asking about people by name. And people knew!

Person A would ask person B, and person B would be able to say, “Oh, she’s at the Times Square McDonald’s tonight” or whatever. I actually thought it was pretty sweet, and very interesting to me that there was this whole network I didn’t know existed.

Anyway, back to the story at hand. I went to the second homeless shelter in midtown.

This was a much different experience. They had a weird unmarked door (though it may have had a mural on it?), so it was kind of hard to find it. Once I did find it, there was no security guard. There was no metal detector. It was just a room full of people on the cots and on the floor.

BUT, we got to watch free movies in there! What up? I saw Due Date and Middle Men.

MiddleMenPoster

As far as who got a cot and who got the floor, my understanding was you got the privilege of a cot if you’d been there for three months.

The man next to me mentioned having two strikes and something about assault with a deadly weapon toward his girlfriend. Apparently it was his very first night out of jail. All right.

He weirdly caressed my hair once as he went by, but I just let it go. I don’t think that’s the guy you want to call out…

I met some interesting, sweet people in that shelter.

Random thought: I also thought it was funny how many of the people in there had smartphones. I can’t say I’m too surprised. You can live a certain lifestyle to have it all fall apart. And I guess if you already own it, perhaps you just keep it. At the time, I’d never had a smartphone, so I was not someone with one. But they were in abundance in this shelter.

I had a somewhat hard time sleeping that night. It was sort of cold, though they had blankets. I had to awkwardly sleep on top of my book bag – protecting basically everything I owned. And more than one mouse made its way by me through the night.

I think it was around 6am that everyone had to wake up, clean up, and begin leaving for the day.

Once I got out, I went and hung around Penn Station for a while. There are some places in there where you’re generally left alone if you look pretty put together (like someone genuinely waiting for a train) and you quietly doze off.

That day, I got a call from a friend offering me a job that paid for housing, food, and paid a salary of almost $1,500 a week! Sign me up, please.

This is where I’ll pick up tomorrow.

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 39 (The “Flirting with Homelessness” Chapter)

December 21, 2012

Covenant HousePicking up from yesterday

Now, I don’t want to overplay any of this. I’ve had plenty of nights when I was between sublets sleeping (or staying awake in) various places in New York and Los Angeles. (And if any of you need a list of the best ones and the best times to be safe and get some shut-eye, I got ya!)

But I’m not somebody who lived on the street for any long period of time. I don’t want to make this a “poor me” story. I’m okay.

I do remember, though, as I was getting poorer and poorer hearing stories of people who lived in their cars, and being jealous that they were able to afford cars…

So, as April was coming to close, it was time to gear up to become homeless for an unknown period of time – until my bills were a bit more under control and I was making more money than the somewhere around two-hundred dollars a week I got on unemployment.

I did some research on homeless shelters and set out to start my journey. I started with Covenant House. (Apparently everyone starts there as I learned from people in my next homeless shelter.)

From internet research, it seemed to be the most welcoming place. You got to have your own room and everything. They even had programs to help people transition out of homelessness.

I got there and the security guard led me in. I went through the metal detector, they searched my bag, and then I was brought into “intake.”

The intake place was really nice. They immediately offered you food, and had a big TV with a bunch of couches. This was nice than any place I’d lived in a long time!

Since this place was so nice and everyone here so helpful, it’s not very surprising that all the beds were full. The staff was incredible. The woman speaking to me seemed upset that she had to turn me away. I tried to let her know that I was sure I would be fine.

They offered me a plastic bag of toiletries and a Metro card. I didn’t feel right about taking those things ’cause I still had some money in the bank (that I’d use for bills and food), just not enough for rent for another month. I was sure I wasn’t as down on my luck as some people who come in here.

They did give me a list of other shelters that I was happy to take. They let me hang out and watch TV for a bit. I met a resident there. She had nothing bad to say about the place.

They also told me that beds open up all the time, and you can call and check as much as you want. If there’s a bed open when you call, they’ll hold it for you for two hours, giving you a chance to get there. Then it’s yours. (Just in case anyone needs to know for future reference.)

After intake (even before the twenty minutes of TV watching with a new friend), it was pretty late and most shelters had closed as far as letting anyone new come in for the night.

There was at least one twenty-four hour shelter I saw on the list, so I left, heading there next.

This is where I’ll pick up tomorrow.

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 38 (The “Money Got Tight/Moved to New York” Chapter)

December 20, 2012

RallyToRestoreSanityI know this is generally a Wednesday night series, but since this current 52 half marathons project is coming to a close soon, I’d like to just go ahead and knock the rest of these chapters out.

(I don’t want to still be telling this story in the midst of the next fun project (which will be here before you know it). So let’s finish these up. Sound good?)

Picking up from yesterday –

My job was over. I wasn’t going back to school. I didn’t really know what I was going to do.

I knew I wanted to go back east. So, I just went. Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert were having this rally in Washington DC. I took that as a sign. that I should go and just stay. I packed up the two suitcases of stuff I owned, got a plane, went to the rally with my lovely friend Fareed (who’s been mentioned on the blog before).

I took up a bus up to New York, subleased a place in Queens, and tried to get my life back together.

Checking in with how the running was going – not well. I had a very hard time getting back into a running routine when I’d been in California because all that bouncing around from place to place made it hard to worry about anything other than “where will I be living next month?”

Also, I just had this mental block. On certain days, I’d break through it and be happy with walking a few miles. On other days, if I couldn’t go as far or as fast as I used to (and I never could), I’d end my workout early out of frustration, and admonish myself the whole way home.

Once I got back to New York, I tried to put running as a priority. I started to work out more. I started to improve a little. It was an extremely long process to try to become the happy runner I’d once been. (I am still, to this day, not as fast or fit as I used to be.)

I struggled, but I was ecstatic to be in New York and my newfound happiness made it slightly easier to be better to myself.

The month I got there, I got a job on a cooking show. It ended in January of 2011.

I stretched my money from January 2011 to April 2011. I kept looking for work and just wasn’t lucky enough to get on another show.

I found it hard to regain the work momentum after I’d turned down jobs while being sick. People were starting to realize I was back and offer me stuff again, but you know about those laws of physics – a body in motion stays in motion. In my experience, it was true of my career as well.

As far as living situations during that time – my sublease had run out on that great Queens apartment back in December. I went around to different places, and stayed with some friends. A family took me in for some time while I tried to find yet another cheap place, which I did. I found a place to stay in Far Rockaway. (That name does not lie. It certainly was far).

I couldn't find any of my pictures of Central Park lying around, so here's Bryant Park.
I couldn’t find any of my pictures of Central Park lying around, so here’s Bryant Park.

The more my money stretched while looking for a job, the more luxuries went by the wayside. It got to the point where I wouldn’t take the subway into the city unless it was necessary (for instance, a job interview). I couldn’t afford even a couple of dollars to go enjoy Central Park (which is of course free if you can just get there!).

Of course my running yet again went by the wayside while I focused on basic needs (well, basic-er than running, which is pretty basic in itself). “Today, will I eat lunch or dinner, ’cause I only have enough food/money to choose one…”

Toward the end of April, looking forward to May, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to stay in my apartment. I couldn’t juggle all the bills I was still paying, plus pay for a place to live. Something had to give. I didn’t want to default on any credit cards. I wanted to pay any and all debts I’d gotten myself into. I guess the apartment would have to go.

This is where I’ll pick up tomorrow.

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 37 (The “Skipping Town For Good aka Moving to California” Chapter)

December 19, 2012

(Photo Credit: Bococaland.com)
(Photo Credit: Bococaland.com)

It’s Wednesday, so the story continues.

Picking up from last week

(This is sort of starting a new storyline. The health stuff is over. This is more about the effect it had on the rest of my life.)

My lease was coming to an end in the summer. I decided not to renew it or sign up for more classes in the fall.

I’d been offered a job working for America’s Got Talent which would go through part of the fall. I was tired of being “the heart girl” at school, and wanted to escape for a bit.

I didn’t have as much money as I used to (though I’m not sure how that helps the case to move, when really that probably should’ve helped the case to stay put and try to climb out of the hole… Either way, the reasons for the lack of money were two fold.

1) In 2009, before I’d gotten sick, I worked a ton of jobs. Many were low paying, but when you work a lot of low paying jobs, you end up having money. All of that income disappeared as I had to let go of job after job after job in the hospital. So, I’d been using credit cards way more often than before, and had built up a nice bit of debt on them during the many, many months without any income.

2) I now had medical bills as well. Granted, insurance covered by far the majority of them. (And thank goodness. My understanding is that close to half a million dollars has been sunk into my body. (Wow.))

So, I took the job went to Cali. At the time, I had the intention of going back to school. (I didn’t.)

I only subleased in California. I wasn’t ready to commit to being there for anything longer than the show.

I lived in some crazy places. I lived in what may or may not have been a drug dealer’s apartment (pretty sure it was). I didn’t ask any questions, and I got out of there after the month for which I’d paid.

I lived in a place (warning if you don’t want to hear about bugs) infested, and I mean infested with cockroaches. (Shivers thinking about it.) I sprayed roach spray one night to try to get the ones I’d seen. When I woke up, there were rows of dead cockroaches sprawled out in the spray’s path… I was out of there in three days.

I ended up living in the living room of someone’s apartment. Once AGT was over, I started gearing up to go to school in the spring. (That had been my plan all along. I’d taken online classes during the fall so as to not lose my full-time student status.)

However, I couldn’t find the money to go. I know this sounds very childish (of course, I was still kind of a child then), but my parents were the ones who worried about school money, and they said it just wasn’t there.

This is the "College Dropout" album cover... (That's why it's here...) (If I have to explain the photos, I'm oh so sure I chose the right one...)
(This is the “College Dropout” album cover…) (You know I made the right choice photo when I have to explain it… (Shakes head))

I wasn’t offered any money after filling out my FAFSA. Even if you’re living in California, working, and paying for your own stuff; the government considers you a dependent if you’re under 24.

Oh well, I’m not gonna hate on the government for that. They do so much great stuff for us, I can let that slide.

So, however my parents had figured out how to procure money in other semesters, it wasn’t working out this time.

As far as I was concerned, if they said I couldn’t get the money to go, then I couldn’t get the money to go.

I believe there’s always some kind of way, somehow, to make things happen if you really want them. Maybe that’s true. Maybe that’s a foolish belief. But the truth is, I didn’t know how much I really wanted school, anyway.

I’d never been that keen on going to college. I wanted to try working. Once it became easy not to go back, I just didn’t go back.

(Granted, at the time, I was a little thrown thinking I was going to return to the safe confines of college – just to be thrust into the “real world,” basically without a safety net. But I figured, “This is my life now. I gotta just make it work.”)

I stayed in California for the rest of the month. I did a day on Skating with the Stars. (I even drove (a huge vehicle!) all day… and everybody lived!)

Now, as you know, I’m not a huge fan of Los Angeles…

This is where we’ll pick up next time.

I Definitely Did This Schedule Correctly!

December 13, 2012

(This isn't from this year, 'cause there is no Feb. 29, but this is just an example or really, how else could you want to keep a schedule?)Photo Credit: MichaelJacksonsPictures.com
(This isn’t from this year, ’cause there is no Feb. 29, but this is just an example or really, how else could you want to keep a schedule?)
Photo Credit: MichaelJacksonsPictures.com

For the most part.

I’m not afraid to say something really nice about myself. I’ll go ahead and say that I’m brilliant!

Okay, a lot of things from this year wouldn’t lead to that same conclusion – some travel plans not executed as best as they could be, constantly losing everything I own (wallet in Denver, hat in wine country, etc.) But the best decision I made all year was to throw in this three-week break at the end here.

This is the perfect time to start inventorying everything. Okay, I take back the brilliant thing, actually. Let’s get real. I should’ve had lists and things going all along.

Of course, I’ve been flying by the seat of my pants since day 1. It took everything I had just to successfully get myself to all these races!

But now I have time to inventory the shirts, the medals, and the bibs. And the pictures! My gosh, the pictures. I have pictures on my phone, on my desktop, in folder on the computer, in iPhoto. I have a some pictures I ordered that need to be scanned. The pictures are by far the hardest thing to keep track of – to successfully label them all and put them in folders and everything.

This break also gives me time to:
a) better organize the emails of everyone who donated to my fundraising page so I can start an excel spreadsheet with addresses and who’s gotten thank you cards and can start that whole process.
b) make a huge email/snail mail/etc. campaign to everyone I know but have yet to reach out to about running for marriage equality.

This break is lovely. It’s not even necessarily a “break.” Everything I listed takes up time. But I have that time. So, the break was wonderful and I’m very, very glad I set it in the schedule for myself.

But, if I were to go back and do it again, there is one thing about the schedule I’d highly consider changing.

The piece of advice I’d give to anyone doing this in the future – consider going Autumn to Autumn. instead of Winter to Winter. There are TONS of races in the fall. To me, it seems that October/November may just be the biggest racing months. (I’m making this up based on my experience. Don’t take this as fact.)

(May is huge as well.)

Autumn has plenty. The spring has plenty as well. Summer, not so much. May and even June have a ton. But I think you could easily start huge in the fall, get a bunch under your belt, and peter out in July/August. That’s not necessarily the best route to go. I actually really enjoyed ramping up to a three week break then starting the new year with some fun stuff. But Autumn to Autumn is definitely a valid, sound strategy that should be considered.

I’m going to use every day of this break to work toward wrapping everything up, and you’ll hear about any exciting steps. I’m gonna work on getting a page up of photos of all my metals. I’ll probably do one for the t-shirts as well. I have an appointment with a frame store in early January to discuss fun ideas for my displaying my medals. I’ll keep you updated on any of the fun stuff.

If there is anything else you want besides the stuff I listed here that I’m working on – any questions you have, or anything like that – please go ahead and ask them and I’ll do my best to get to them.

Thanks!

That Time My Heart Broke. Literally. – Part 36 (The “Follow-Ups” Chapter)

December 12, 2012

ER-the tv showIt’s Wednesday night , so the story continues.

Picking up from last week

I had multiple follow up appointments – my electrocardiolist, my surgeon, my primary care doctor – everyone saw me to say hello.

Three months after surgery, when I followed up with my amazing heart surgeon (Dr. Vlahakes), he told me I was now basically a superhero. If you think your sternum is strong, wait until someone cracks it open! Apparently, it gets even stronger when it fuses back together (or however that works).

I had a couple of tiny scares and trips to the ER before my follow-up appointments, and some months later. Instances where I thought maybe I could feel my heart flutter again, or thought something else was wrong.

I don’t know if any of you reading have had a serious illness to be pronounced good as new. But it’s kind of a weird feeling. Of course you want to believe it. But I think, in my case at least, my mind/body started playing a couple of tricks on me. “Am I really okay?” “Did I just feel something?” “I better go get this checked out immediately!”

It feels weird to go from a life constantly in and out of the hospital to being completely free. It almost feels like you’re supposed to be in the hospital but somehow you’ve escaped with the universe to catch you red-handed at any moment.

Another thing that spurred a couple of ER visits (as opposed to doctor visits) months after my follow-ups was that I moved around a lot. I left my safe, lovely, wonderful, amazing Boston life and mainly spent time in California. (We’ll get to the move soon.)

It was hard to find a new doctor I trusted who was accepting new patients. So, I went around doctor-less for a while. And when I’d have an urgent concern, I just went to the ER.

In total, over the year and half following my surgery, I only had a handful of ER visits. It wasn’t like I was going a ton, but I went more than zero times.

I have since grown out of that slightly paranoid, “every tiny weird feeling must be something wrong with me” phase. I haven’t seen the inside of an ER for over a year – for heart stuff, anyway. (I had a sprained ankle back in January.)

I’m happy to know that I’m not alone in the overly cautious after surgery department, though. I’ve talked to a couple other WPW patients who were scared their problem might be coming back and had some extra visits to a hospital or doctor that in the end, we didn’t really need.

I never want to waste any resources, but I suppose it’s better safe than sorry…

And I wasn’t always completely wrong. I’ve had a flutter here or there, with very slightly abnormal EKGs. I never had anything truly emergent, but I do still have to have a cardiologist. Someone is keeping an eye on all that tiny stuff, just in case.

Overall though, I’m a pretty healthy lady. I have no restrictions on what I’m allowed to do. My doctors took exceptional care of me – absolutely exceptional. I may even give one post to that so the idea doesn’t get lost this post.

JD on scrubs making fantasy faceEven though this is all in the past, it’s weird. Sometimes some random thing happens that catapults me back, and I’ll feel like it was yesterday.

Most of the time, this heart stuff is just a memory from a long, long time ago. It doesn’t really affect my day to day life.

But sometimes, my sternum will crack in a weird way (which it never did before surgery), or I’ll see some medical show on TV where a doctor or patient says or does something that puts me right back in the hospital for ten seconds in my mind.

It doesn’t happen so much anymore. It used to happen kind of a lot, but the whole vivid memories have settled down over time.

I can’t believe it! We did it – we told the heart story! (Yay!)

There will still be more chapters that deal with quitting school, the money issue, and getting back into running. But I think we’ve covered the health stuff! I hope you found this story at least somewhat interesting. Thanks so much for reading along. I hope you enjoy the next chapters of how that year went on to affect to following year… We’ll continue next week.

A Mission Accomplished… So Far

December 11, 2012

A pretty good picture of "fat" me, though I had a better one I can't find...
A pretty good picture of “fat” me from 2011, though I had a better one I can’t find…

The mission is not accomplished, but a mission is.

I started this whole journey because I had an incredibly hard time getting back into running after all the open-heart surgery jazz.

Last year, I started getting more active again. Doing events made it easier because you absolutely have to get up. You have to do the amount of mileage you said you will. Events are not the optimal way to train, but for me, I felt as though I needed them.

This journey of 52 races was supposed to make half marathons normal for me again. They’re not scary. They’re not impossible. And I think the project did what it was supposed to do. I’m not overwhelmed by the though of doing half marathons anymore.

During the Santa to the Sea half marathon this year, it was fun to think about the difference between that weekend a year ago and present day.

A year ago, my dad and I were wondering how I’d feel after two 5ks in one weekend. Whoo! 6 miles. (The Santa to the Sea 5k and the Pomona Holiday 5k the day before it).

This year, I did two half marathons on that same December weekend. As you may have read in #49’s entry, I debated doing the first one ’cause I was sick. When I was deciding to do it, a thought that crossed my mind was, “It’s only a half marathon. You can push though.”

It’s only a half marathon – this from the girl who in December of 2011 was all “Oh… 6 miles in a weekend… This is gonna be a rough one.”

I’ve barely (if ever) mentioned weight on this blog, because that’s not what this blog is about. There are plenty of other places on the internet concerned with weight loss, and this isn’t one of them.

However, I will say between November ’11 and August ’12, I lost about 30-35 pounds. (Truthfully, it was more November – January I lost 30-35 pounds. January – August, I maintained that weight loss through a ton of travel and eating new foods with friends.) I didn’t concentrate on weight. I think sometimes it’s healthy to concentrate on weight (since it is important), but sometimes that brings added stress.

Santa to the Sea 2011
Santa to the Sea 5k 2011

My philosophy on health (which sometimes I follow and sometimes I don’t) is to take a lot of (metaphorical…though sometimes literal) steps forward, even if they’re small, and make a lot of good decisions even if you make some bad ones. Maybe I need to (and maybe I will at some point) take a much stricter approach and get a rocking body. We’ll see.

After August, I got pretty busy wrapped up in a day job, and I made some very drastic changes in my diet because of some eating challenges for my charity. I gained a little doing that. I’ve lost a good chunk of it now that I’m back to my normal diet. And I’m somewhat maintaining-ish where I am. A little up, a little down.

Off the weight and back to the subject at hand of endurance and improvement – It’s sometimes hard to see the forest through the trees – to see the progress as it happens. I think humans adapt pretty quickly. When a half marathon is the general weekend routine, it’s easy to feel like that’s the way it’s always been.

But it hasn’t always been that way. So, to be back in December when I started doing 5ks last year and to really think about how far I’ve come – it’s very cool for me.

I’m thankful for the ability to be active. I love that I am now, I would say, an active person. I’m excited to continue to get more active!

I still have a long way to go. I want to do Ironmans, and those 7-day bike rides, and Ragnars and all that jazz. And I will. So, this isn’t even close to the end. But it’s fun (for me at least) to see the progress.

Thanks so much for coming along on this journey!

And just ’cause I’m talking this way, it’s not the end of the journey. I’m definitely not saying goodbye! (I still have two more races, and plenty of blog posts.) I’m just taking a moment of reflection, and a moment to say thank you!

You’re lovely blog readers, and thank you for reading!

In the words of Michael Jackson, “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet!”

(#50) Santa to the Sea (December 9, 2012)

December 10, 2012

This morning, I was lucky enough to experience friendship in its purest form.

My friend Billy knew I’d been under the weather and that this was my last race of 2012(!). He offered to drive me to Oxnard so I could avoid the hassle of renting a car and driving out there myself. He showed up at my apartment at 6am so we could make an hour-long drive to the race. How incredibly sweet is that? I am extremely grateful.

I made Billy go home and get some rest since the train would be open by the time the race was over.

I love this race. I did the 5k last year, and knew I had to come back for the half marathon. I’m glad I did!

I had the pleasure of live-tweeting the race from the brand new Santa to the Sea account.

I don’t think you could ask for anything more from a Christmas race. It starts at a ginormous Santa statue. Plus, non-statue Santa Claus is there to take pictures with you at the start line.

This race feeds its runners like crazy. There are snacks at the start line, the halfway point, and the end.

snacks

They have some healthy things such as orange slices, and they have tons of brownies and little cinnamon rolls. Yum, yum, yum!

At the start line, I ran into Joe (from the Ragnar team for which I volunteered, and from the Hollywood Half).

It was super easy to pick up my bib and timing chip. Everything was so well organized.

In the first mile, I saw a man walking, wearing a New York City Marathon jacket – from this year. Anything that involves the 2012 ING New York City Marathon will always spark a conversation with me!

I could easily have blog posts pouring out of me about it. I won’t, ’cause it’s over. I wasn’t planning on running it this year (though I had plenty of friends/teammates who were). But if you meet me, and bring it up, we will so talk about it.

Mrs. Claus at Santa to the Sea

I end up talking to Robert from mile 1 through the end of the race. (No, we didn’t talk about the marathon that whole time.) We talked about his family. We had a riveting discussion about the education system in America. (He knows a lot about it ’cause that is a big part of his job.) Walking with him was absolutely lovely.

They had super cute mile markers in this race. Cartoon Santa is on them carrying numbers in different ways. (The markers sort of look like the medal.)

There were a number of fun groups along the course. There’s a neighborhood challenge going on where runners can vote for their favorite. I don’t know what the prize is, but I know people want to win!

Neighborhood 2 was playing great music. Neighborhood 3 had balloon arches (and Santa and Mrs. Claus)! Neighborhood 5 had tiny, cute kids handing out stickers.

Before you knew it, Robert and I had made it to the 5k turnaround point (which I remembered from last year). The beach was a familiar (but still just as odd) sigh. How crazy is it to see palm trees in the sand at a Christmas race? That’s December in Southern California for you!

Aurora getting massage at Santa to the Sea

As I was coming into the finish, a rush of adrenaline completely took over. I couldn’t believe that in a matter of steps, I’d be done racing in 2012! I was dance/running as Carly Rae Jepsen and Owl City blasted through the speakers.

The announcer said “There’s Aurora from Los Angeles – the tweeter of Santa to the Sea.” Special shout out! Boom baby.

I then got what very well may be the best massage I had this whole year from Kaelyn at Coastal Acupuncture (though I had a lot of great massages (especially in Kentucky), so I can’t say for sure). Then, I got stretched out by Lyndsay at the Advanced Spine & Sport Chiropractic booth. They have everything at Santa to the Sea!

A really nice volunteer drove me to the train station, and I was on my way back home.

(Finished/wipes hands clean gesture.)

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(#49) Walnut Creek Half Marathon – Part 2 (The Race)

December 9, 2012

Picking up from yesterday

So, I did the race even thought I was sick.

I was very lucky that I found a great place to stay on CouchSurfing.org. I stayed with Anton, an extremely nice, fun man.

He had a spare bedroom with a really comfy bed. I went to bed pretty super early. I got around nine hours of desperately needed sleep. So amazing.

Anton was only about two blocks from the starting line – which was even better.

I always forget that other cities have weather, but luckily this time someone on Facebook reminded me that it would be cold in the morning. (Thank goodness for random good Samaritans on the internet.)

I brought my gloves that I had gotten in Seattle, and I put on my sweatshirt (the only one I own). I made my way to the start line.

I came extra prepared today since I was under the weather. I brought a water bottle and some energy chews so I could be sure to stay hydrated and have an extra dose of energy if need be.

The aid at this half marathon was great, though. They had orange slices at nearly every station. Every person I saw in Walnut Creek from the first person I saw at the expo to each spectator I saw on the course seemed really lovely and enthusiastic about the race.

I did what I always do when I’m sick and something needs to get done – I just act ’til it’s over. (When something doesn’t need to get done, I play the part of a whiny child in bed.)

Especially any time I went uphill, I turned on a lovely dramatic song on my iPhone. I charged up those inclines with the power of Jennifer Holiday pushing me. I actually passed people on hills. I knew I’d probably slow down on them, and I did not want to slow my walking pace, so I just went all musical theater on them. Ba-bam!

I even hammed it up for a couple of cameras on the course. The adrenaline was flowing. Plus, it is ingrained in me – see a camera, do something. I’ve known that lesson ever since I was a baby and my parents put a camera on me and said, “Now show me happy.” “Now show me sad” – and I’d do huge facial expressions and sounds. (I’ve been playing to the back of the house ever since I could understand words.)

Side note: My parents are not performers (well, that can be debated if you’ve seen the way my dad acts like we’re about to die in any distance race ;)), and they were not trying to raise one. I was just a very perform-y (and I imagine super-fun, of course) child.

There was great signage on this race. There wasn’t any chance of getting lost – until one point around mile 12. There wasn’t a sign to turn, but if you happened to look to your left, you could see the 12th mile marker a bit down the (paved) trail.

You’d think the girl who always gets lost wouldn’t notice it, but I did! I get a gold star for that, I think. Not only did I save myself from extra mileage, I saved the four people around me. (What, what?)

In the final mile, I talked to a fun group of three women. Mainly we talked about Cory Booker, ’cause really, what else do you talk about with new strangers, right?

I was very happy to see that finish line. I ran through the little muddy area, and collected my medal!

Side note about this race’s swag: they’ve had the best drop bag yet. It’s made of good material, has a plastic tag holder for your number. I could totally see reusing it (and did at Santa to the Sea earlier today).

Then I got my Northern California Series medal (and a t-shirt to boot since I did the SoCal series as well!)

(Perhaps the NoCal Half people have something to do with this race? They seemed more intertwined here. In SoCal, no one knew where to get your special medal at the end. I went and grabbed mine out of a box where no one was checking names. Here, there was a whole booth, and volunteers, and a system in place. Also, at the expo, the NoCal medals were prominently displayed. Edited to add: They are run by the same people! Ba-bam. I could tell.)

Now it’s back to SoCal for Santa to the Sea in Oxnard!

(#49) Walnut Creek Half Marathon – Part 1 (The Pre-Race Chapter…Sort of Sick-ish)

December 8, 2012

The first bit I have to say has absolutely nothing to do with Walnut Creek, and only has to do with being sick. So, don’t take this to be anything about their race.

I don’t get sick often. But I got sick this week. I had a very busy week last week. My body kept pleading for sleep. I kept denying it. This was its revenge.

I was really pretty hard-core sick. Chills, achy, getting out of bed was a chore. I did not want to do this race (again, only ’cause I was sick).

I really struggled with the decision of whether to do it. On the one had, you only get one body. You should be at least somewhat kind to yourself. There is a general “neck up, neck down” rule in running. If you have symptoms that are only neck up – stuffy nose, etc., you may run. If you have fever, chills, nausea, etc., you should not.

I had some neck down stuff going and knew I should follow the rules. The incredibly stubborn side of me that never listens to anything rational and only looks at goals and results said, “Do the race!” The side of me that’s really trying to be a more thoughtful, rational human being said, “Take care of yourself, by golly.”

I set up a 3-week break in the racing schedule toward the end, partly so that if anything like this happened – if I got sick, if a flight or a race got cancelled – I could shove in another race and be find. What a wonderful thing I did for myself! That I decided to ignore…

Ultimately, here’s what it came down to. My job at Playboy is over. So, money is tighter now. I still have enough money to finish out these races, but every penny counts even more than usual. I didn’t want to buy yet another race entry. (They’re expensive.)

Also, my roommates love to throw a part every Friday night. (I know.) If I stayed here, I was going to be treated to loud music until Saturday morning – not really optimal rest conditions. So, be annoyed in bed or be annoyed that 13 miles seems far. At least in the latter I’m getting exercise.

Plus, this is my last racing weekend of 2012, and I am ready for that break I built in! So, I decided to go to Walnut Creek.

And, this was the last race of the last series I’m in. So, I wanted my final special medal.

Nothing bad happened today, but officially, I do not recommend this strategy of racing while sick! It’s not the safest or the most fun thing to do. I’m sure it makes you sick for a longer period of time.

If the race is Boston or something you cannot miss, okay. Do it. If it’s just a race you can replace, replace it!

Obviously, I survived. I’ll talk about that tomorrow.

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.)

Redeye to Ohio

October 18, 2012

CMH airport
Photo Credit: LedsMagazine.com

Redeye flight.

That’s the way to do it, my friends.

(Not always, as we learned with my first marathon.) But, generally, I think redeyes are pretty rad.

You get your entire day in your home city. You have time for a full day of work and packing and even an episode of Perception if you want. (Are you all watching Perception?) Eric McCormack rocks.

Then, you still have a full day in the new city. Also, barely any other passengers are at the airport when you check in. No lines for anything! There’s not a line to check in, or go through security, or go to the bathroom. No lines anywhere. Score.

When I first got to LAX at 11:30pm, I was so amazed by the lack of lines for anything, that I thought “This is amazing! I have to share it on the blog.” Then I got seated in an exit row! (What?!) Then ( – you have to imagine me emphasizing the word “then” more in each sentence) the guy next to me had snacks (lovingly prepared by his mother) that he shared!

Huge spoiler about the end of this blog. Yes, it really happened. See?

Holy goodness. How much better can this plane ride get, right? I thought I must share all of this awesomeness, and this no-line redeye secret on the blog.

Then (no emphasis on that one), I realized that I’m pretty much just telling you stuff you probably already know while recounting a super normal day – where everything seemed magical, but in reality I was just some girl on a flight eating grapes from the stranger next to me.

Basically what I’m saying is –

Cory Booker – the Mayor of Newark, New Jersey – tweeted me! That’s right. He tweeted me. It happened. That has nothing to do with the rest of this post, but that’s really the exciting thing that needed to be said.

Goodnight. (Assuming you can sleep after all that crazy excitement.)

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.

The Book of Mormon (The Musical, of Course) – Part 7 (The “Conclusion of this Series” Chapter)

September 21, 2012

Aurora De Lucia with Jared Gertner and Nic Rouleau outside of the Book of Mormon on Broadway
Me with Jared and Nic – the actors playing the two lead Mormon missionaries.

You may not remember that I never finished this story three months ago…

But here it is, the conclusion!

Picking up from last time

After the show, all the standing room people actually said goodbye to each other. We really had become a little day-long line family.

Nic Rouleau killed it. He was different than Andrew Rannells for sure. It was awesomely cool that he felt comfortable enough to put his own spin on the character. He was still very funny. He just did it in a different way. It was fun to watch a different performance that worked so well.

Noah loved the show (of course). I’m not sure if he will become a musical theater aficionado, but at least he now knows that he has the ability to like musicals. Probably the very best thing about The Book of Mormon is that it’s brought so many people into a theater who never thought of themselves as “the type of people who’d enjoy a musical.”

I don’t think there is a specific type of person who can enjoy a musical – everyone can. But some people think there’s a type of person who likes musicals, and a type who doesn’t. This show does a great job of dispelling that myth. There’s a right musical for everybody. If you ever need help finding yours, call me!

Every time I see The Book of Mormon, I can’t get over how supremely written it is. The Book of Mormon is a wonderful example for me (as someone who wants to write musicals) of what a musical can (and should) be.

After the show, Noah and I said hi to Jared. (It goes without saying that Jared blew it out of the water.) I briefly met Nic. I had a short, lovely talk with Rory about running for his charity (which I am now doing) supporting marriage equality.

(It only took me a few months to finally commit to running for charity… It’s something I am so excited for, yet something that terrifies me as well – as I’m sure you’ll read about in a future post.)

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!

Basic at The Groundlings – Part 16 (The “Conclusion of This Series” Chapter)

September 14, 2012

I lived in my brain for a week.
(Photo Credit: HowStuffWorks.com)

Last time, I left off knowing I was gonna get one more little chat with my teacher to try to figure out why I was so much worse in the second half of the session (semester).

I thought about that talk for the entire week. Do you know how many times you can run a 5-minute conversation over and over and over again in your head in the course of a week?

Many, many times.

My class had just ended. I didn’t start my new job until the following week. I had plenty of time to live in an imaginary land, and that’s exactly where I lived basically every moment of every day.

My brain was eating itself with doubts. “How did I convince someone to have so much faith in me by the midterm, just to convince them to lose all of it by the final? Ugh. He seemed so frustrated in the final. I seemed so frustrated. He hates me. I don’t deserve to improvise! Or interact with other humans, for that matter.”

This next part is super embarrassing, but I’m gonna tell you anyway. (Hopefully he’s not reading.)

Since the only thing I could think about was my talk with Kevin, I went on this little kick of watching a bunch of his old acting stuff – as if that would summon him or something, or reveal some kind of secret message through the TV about my failure.

(He’s not in this picture – but he is in that commercial.)

I had a large number of hours of terrified waiting, so i saw everything. Rules of Engagement? Saw it. ER? Oh, I saw it. Rozerem commercial? Yeah, I saw that too. I saw it all.

Finally, the day came when I kind of got my re-do on my final evaluation (for which I could never thank him enough).

I know it was a big favor that isn’t done very often. I know he definitely didn’t owe it to me. So it’s awesome that he’s a complete sweetheart. I was still all jumbled up, so that little redo was really helpful. I appreciated it a lot.

What was so funny about it was that you’d think after 140 hours of thinking, I could’ve come to some conclusions on my own. They made so much sense when he said them – of course he viewed the second half as weaker!

We got our midterms in class seven. We had a sub for class eight. There are only twelve classes. Of the four classes we had left, one was fateful Wednesday – meaning of those last four, one was a complete and total failure. Already, I’m down to a 75% success rate in the last four classes (since I get nothing for fateful Wednesday).  75% would be assuming I got 100% on the other three.

As far as the final scenes were concerned, he said they weren’t bad, but that he wanted more from me. He expected more. Guess what? He hadn’t abandoned all faith in me. I wasn’t a lost cause! I was the opposite of a lost cause – he’d set the bar higher for me.

Then he left me with some pretty magical advice. He said I needed “swagger.”

That’s when it clicked.

(Photo Credit: MTV.co.uk)

Remember how I’d been told in my midterms both times I took Basic that I needed more confidence? I guess sometimes it was hard to find “confidence,” because I didn’t want to accidentally hit “conceited” or “controlling.” But there was something about “swagger” that I understood.

By giving me that one word, he changed everything.

Perhaps.

I felt so magical the day “swagger” clicked that that was how I wanted to end the post. I wanted to believe that it would change everything. Maybe it did. Maybe it didn’t. Maybe we’ll find out if we ever talk about the Groundlings again.

I will always be thankful for Kevin’s class. It helped bring back some of that drive, passion, and craziness that I’d lost around the open-heart surgery recovery time. I’ll admit (even if it is embarrassing) I’m still not as crazy as I was in high school, but this class helped rev that crazy up a bit.

It also ended in really the best way I could’ve asked for. I didn’t know it at the time, but I needed that on-the-fence, “okay, I guess” type of acceptance. By getting a just barely pass, I didn’t take anything for granted. I definitely didn’t get too comfortable.

Plus, I got these great burning desires: A) Prove him right for sending me on. B) Prove him wrong for ever doubting me.

He gave me the perfect mix of push and support.

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.

Basic at The Groundlings – Part 15 (The “This Is Great! Wait, Is It Great?” Chapter)

September 11, 2012

Picking up from last week

The next morning, the moment I got dropped off at my half marathon, l called my high school theater teacher to tell her the news (that I’d really passed!).

She was so lovely, and happy for me. I told her that I had found out at 3:30 in the morning. She said, “Why didn’t you call me? I took my phone to bed in case you found out!”

Do I love her, or do I love her? Because I love her. It was so genuine. What a wonderful, sweet person who wants to be woken up in the middle of the night to talk about improv, right? How lucky am I to have her in my life?

We talked for a little while longer as I hemmed and hawed – “I mean, I passed, but barely. I should probably take Basic all over again. At least I’m free now. Now that I’ve passed, I won’t crack under that pressure of it being my third and final chance to pass. I’m so happy, but so bummed that I he wasn’t convinced outright.”

She’s an excellent listener who really took in all of my concerns and worked with me on figuring out how I should be feeling about it. She had this positive energy without being too positive – letting me know it was definitely a victory and she was proud of me, but she wasn’t undercutting my additional disappointment or discouraging me from repeating Basic. Do I love her, or do I love her? Because I freaking love her. She’s the best human being.

After my talk with her, I picked up my packet and then continued to call and text the world letting everybody know the good news.

If you read Rock ‘n’ Roll Seattle’s post, you know that over the course of 13.1 miles, I slowly let myself go from being elated – “I passed!” to being super bummed. “I barely passed. I didn’t deserve it. This sucks.”

When I got to the airport, I couldn’t think of anything but improv. (Surprise, surprise. When in my life ( well, that small slice of my life) had I been able to think about anything buy improv?) And I started obsessing over it.

As nice as Kevin had been in the final evaluation, it still didn’t feel good. It felt as though all I was doing was fighting with him. I was really frustrating him. Or maybe I was only frustrating myself. Either way, I felt a lot of frustration in the room. And I couldn’t get it off of me.

I also didn’t ask any of the right questions as far as what to work in going forward in Intermediate, or specifically why he thought the second half of the semester was so very much worse than the first.

I think I only heard it this way, because I tend to echo things – but I felt as though that moment played over and over in the evaluation – “The second half just wasn’t as strong as the first.” Over and over. I think it was probably me that looped that, and not him. But it was another thing I couldn’t get off of me.

I thought I’d bounced back. Had I misjudged everything about class? How will I ever know how I’m doing, if I can’t ever get a read on how things are going? I thought the apparently good first half was awful. I thought the apparently awful second half was good. What’s real anymore?

So, I started drafting a whole different email. (I never sent that first argumentative one about why I should pass. I passed before the please pass me manifesto was ready.) In this email, I tried to ask questions and apologize. Of course, this got rambly as well.

Finally, after I realized I was never going to be able to be as concise as I should be – I wrote Kevin a short email before completely bombarding him. I basically said that I know evaluations are over and that he definitely doesn’t owe me anything else, but if there’s any way he could spare 5 minutes to clear a few things up and let me apologize, I’d really appreciate it.

I’m sure he thought, “Ugh. Well, shoot. She’s coming to see a show I’m in this week. I might as well just appease her, since she’s gonna corner me ether way.” (Actually, that’s probably not what he thought because he’s such a sweet, genuine person. He probably agreed out of goodwill.)

This is where I’ll pick up next time.

(#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!

Basic at The Groundlings – Part 14 (The “Drafting a Novel on the Plane” Chapter)

September 8, 2012

Picking up from last time

Eventually, the cabin door closed and I still didn’t know any more than when we landed. (My only texts were from friends, and I had no news for anyone.)

As I flew to Seattle, I thought, “You did not fight well enough. You did not fight coherently enough. You didn’t bring up any good points. Maybe it’s not quite too late. Maybe, since you have plenty of time now, you can organize your thoughts into something coherent and brilliant. Maybe. I mean, you’re pretty frazzled, and I don’t know that you can be coherent right now. But it doesn’t hurt to try.”

As soon as we were allowed to turn on our electronic devices, I whipped out my computer and started drafting. I started writing everything I could think of as concisely and convincingly as possible. I started to feel a little on the crazy side, ’cause my version of “concise” was um, not concise at all.

I thought, he is not going to want to wade through this. I starting cutting it into sections with headers and subheaders and things – thinking I’d make all my main points, and then he could read how I elaborate on certain things if he wanted to. But at least it would all be organized and easy to skim. (Yes, I realize that still sounds crazy. Hopefully less so.)

As the plane landed, I still hadn’t said what I wanted to say. But as long as my fate hadn’t yet been sealed, I wasn’t about to sleep until I really made the best possible fight that I could for myself. I figured I’d have a late night drafting and drafting until I sent an email off in the wee hours of the morning.

It was almost midnight when I landed in Seattle. Still no text from Kevin. I figured there was no way I’d hear that night. I did have a text from Sean, and we continued to text as I waited for my uncle to pick me up.

Once I was with my uncle, I launched into the whole thing about what was going on. As we talked on the way home, my phone made a sound that I got a text message. I looked at my phone, assuming it would be from Sean. It wasn’t. It was from a California number I didn’t recognize.

I had had a few texts that day from California numbers that I didn’t recognize, so it wasn’t that out of the ordinary. (Some people I’d met in drop-in classes were kind enough to text me and check in on whether I passed.) When I got this text, I assumed it was someone else wanting to hear the news.

I saw that the text started with “Congrats,” which actually made me angry. Since I was so sure that Kevin wouldn’t be texting me until the next day, my first thought was, “Who are you assuming I passed, random California number? I’m freaking dying over here!”

I read on. “You passed.” Even still, for some reason, I couldn’t see through my stress enough to realize what was happening. “Why would you toy with me like this? What do you know? You don’t know anything!”

(For anyone who thinks it’s odd that it took me so long to read 3 words – I don’t usually read so slowly that I have multiple thoughts for every word I read. It was a special day, and a lot to take in.)

Then I saw, “You passed. Make me proud. –Kevin”

What? (Wide eyes!) What? What? What?! I sufficiently freaked out. My uncle didn’t quite understand the enormity of the moment, but he tried to appease me by caring a little. It was 3:30am on the east coast. I couldn’t even even freak out to everyone that I was dying to tell.

Once we got to my uncle’s house, I thought about how incredible it was to be able to just fall asleep.

I did it. I passed. Step one. done. Everything is going to be okay. I fell straight to sleep and woke up for my half marathon the next day.

Now, this sounds like the end of the story, but it’s not – kind like in Into The Woods. You think it’s over, but there’s more. This is where I’ll continue next time.

Basic at The Groundlings – Part 13 (The “Fight For It – ‘Tell Me Why You Should Pass'” Chapter)

September 7, 2012

I wasn’t muddy, but I found this picture and thought it would add to the stress level in our minds.

I left off last time with Kevin telling me to fight for why he should pass me.

I will never remember everything I said. That moment is a blur. I know that I didn’t form any complete thoughts. All my sentences ended with me trailing off, or cutting myself off mid-sentence to say something else.

The few times I caught his gaze, he definitely seemed to be intently listening and caring – which is extra sweet of him since I was rambling (even more so than usual), and making even far less sense than I usually do. As I said, he’s one of those guys who truly cares about all of his students.

Most of my time during this arguing portion was spent looking anywhere but at him. Why does my brain do that? – Refuse to focus on the person I’m talking to, when I don’t know what to say? Does it think my answers are on the floor? They’re not.

I also couldn’t look at Kevin because my brain was doing it’s best to be in process mode and work everything out. I was feeling so many emotions at once. I definitely did not possess the ability to process them all. Shame, confusion, aggression, and whole lots more – absolute brain overload.

Not to mention I just thought, “Well, there we go. I did it. I ruined everything. In the span of six weeks, I’ve gotten someone to believe I was talented just to get them to completely lose all faith in me.” It was surprisingly kind of devastating.

Time’s Up!
(Photo Credit: GreatHallGames.com)

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Before the evaluations, he’d told the class that if meetings went over 5 minutes to knock at the door. How could my 5 minutes be up? It feels like I’ve only been in here for 45 seconds.

I don’t – I can’t –

He told me he still wasn’t sure, and he’d have to text me later. Holy goodness.

Okay, so this feels awesome and awful at the same time. One the one hand, I haven’t failed! On the other, my fate is still up in the air! My stomach has been doing cartwheels for the past 48 hours (at least). My brain is incessantly chattering about every second of every scene, and every game, from the past 12 classes. Now that gets to continue.

My lovely friend Amanda gets her evaluation – she passes (not surprisingly), and we head for the airport. Since she is the great friend she is, she indulges me as I monologue about what I should’ve said and what he might be thinking, what I should’ve done differently in scenes, and on and on. She sweetly said that we needed to keep positive energy out there and hope for the best.

Sean, another brilliant friend in my class, texted me real time updates (since Amanda and I had to bust out of there so quickly to get to LAX). There was a lot of texting back and forth between me and Sean at the airport and for the rest of the night. I couldn’t think about anything but improv, and there was just so much to say.

I called my high school theater teacher, because, well, I call her all the time. I had promised her when I told her about my great midterm that I’d let her know how the final went. She was a total sweetheart, and was definitely pulling for me. She told me to call her as soon as I found out the final word.

Marge Simpson sitting on an airplane, leaning forward with wide eyes, afraid of flyingI boarded the full flight, sat in my middle seat, and thought. And thought. And thought some more. I wanted to read, or respond to emails, or do anything at all. But I couldn’t. My eyes glazed over as I did my best to read a magazine article.

“When is Kevin gonna text me?” My brain kept screaming at me as I tried to close my eyes and sleep. “Why couldn’t you convince him? Learn to give a speech! Or just learn to improv so he’s not on the fence like this!”

This was probably the best/worst place to be when I got the no-news news. I was in the air, so I had no idea if I had a text. On the good side, couldn’t incessantly bother the people I love with “When is he gonna text me? When is he gonna text me? When is he gonna text me?” on loop in their ears.

When I got to the layover at SFO, I immediately turned on my phone. Any new text messages? Nope. Well, at least not the one I needed.

This is where I’ll pick up next time.

Basic at The Groundlings – Part 12 (The “Evaluation Day” Chapter)

September 6, 2012

Lisa Simpson hyperventilating into paper lunch bag Picking up from last time –

The final class day, Friday, June 23rd, finally comes.

We get paired up for two final scenes – with no side coaching. Oh boy.

By the end of my final scenes, every single tiny particle of energy in my body is gone. I am completely devoid of everything. I had too much adrenaline/terror/and I don’t even know what leading up to the last scenes (and by “leading up to,” I mean for about a two-week time span, at least).

My brain and body both said, “okay, girl, we gave you your big final scenes, now can we please have the answer we’ve been waiting for, so that we know if it’s time for tears of joy or tears of despair? We need to let go of this harder-to-breathe, super tense energy. Please.

Well, brain and body, I want to! But Kevin said now that the hard part was over, it was time for “fun.” What?! Oh my gosh! What could possibly be fun right now other than you putting me out of my misery. Please, I beg of you, I can’t live like this anymore!

We played some more improv games. Somehow we all continued breathing, though I was sure we’d start dropping from the suspense any minute. Finally the moment of truth came.

My classmates were sweet enough to let me go first since I had to catch a flight to Seattle. (Bribing them with cupcakes helped ensure their sweetness.)

In real life, I usually like going last, once there are fewer people crowding the hallways, and the pressure seems a little less intense. Granted, going first has it’s pros as well (such as getting it over with already!).

So, I walked in for my evaluation with Kevin. I had run various scenarios of this moment over in my head about 40 trillion times. I covered so many possibilities of what he might say. I thought about the possibility of passing. I thought about the possibility of not passing.

But I did not prepare myself for this.

I didn’t want to think too much of myself, or expect too much. But I worked ridiculously hard to save things after fateful Wednesday, and I thought I had saved myself.

What I was hoping, was that when I went into the room, he’d say something along the lines of, “oh, Aurora. You fell off a cliff last Wednesday, but somehow you grabbed onto a rope and pulled yourself up. It seemed nearly impossible, but you did it. Congratulations. Barely. Don’t do anything like that again.” I would breathe a deep sigh of relief, freak the heck out, and be on my way to Seattle, finally content and able to sleep.

Nope.

He said he’d left it blank next to my name as to whether I’d pass. “I’m right on the fence. I just don’t know with you.”

Wh – Huh – Wh – Ummm…

I barely actually looked him in the eyes for the rest of the evaluation. My eyes were darting around, looking at the floor. My brain was on overload.

That’s when he said, “Fight for it. Tell me why I should pass you.”

All the air in the room got trapped in my throat as I instinctively took a huge, silent breath in – you know, where you simultaneously can’t breathe, yet you have more oxygen than you do in any other moment of your day.

And this is where I’ll pick up next time.

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.)

The “Meh, I Don’t Feel Like It” Blues

August 25, 2012

Dearest cranky non-runners,

That opening line is not calling all non-runners cranky. I’m addressing a specific group of people – the people who are non-runners, and cranky about running.

So, to you cranky non-runners,

I get it.

I totally get it. In case you didn’t read in my crankypants post, last week was a bit rough.

I am on a freaking emotional roller-coaster in my improv class, my new morning commute is killing me, and if my roommate and I can’t agree on a comfortable temperature for the apartment, he is going to have a heat stroke or I am going die of hypothermia.

I spent every day last week swamped with thoughts, things to do, and running around sweltering L.A. (And I don’t mean running in the good way. I mean it in the – trying to figure out the Burbank bus system, and the most efficient way to get to work and to class – way.)

The less sleep I got, and the more stress I added, the crankier I got.

Intellectually, I knew that if I went for a run, I’d feel better. Running always energizes me, and it tends to make everything better. It’s biology. (“It’s biology” (sometimes just “biology”) is kind of my catchphrase. So, picture that I said it in a fun, catchphrase-y way.

When I saw my friends posting all their stats from the week – “this many miles going this fast,” and “oh, look at my new medal” – the cranky me was all, “Yeah, I get it. You’re fast. You’re healthy. You have so much energy. Get off my back. Excuse me while I eat this Zebra Cake and take a nap.”

I understand the headspace of the people I’ve heard yelling about the annoying-ness of the chipper-ness of their running friends. I also understand the headspace of the chipper friends, ’cause those endorphins sprinkle your brain with fairy dust. I’ve never feel better than I do after a run.

As you can tell by the fact that a week has gone by since my cranky post, I couldn’t even be bothered enough to write this entry.

“Writing? Ugh. So hard. Let’s just post some things that are already conveniently sitting in the queue waiting to be published. Excuse me while I eat this Zebra Cake and take a nap.”

I finally went for a (short) run on Sunday (when I was supposed to be doing that half marathon in Providence). And I went for a small run on Monday, because I knew how much better Sunday’s run made me feel. Then I went for a super short run on Tuesday before my class, because you know, the stress is killing me. I have no choice but to try to run it out.

So, I’m finally making time for running again – not as much time as I should be, but some.

I find it fascinating that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that if I’m really cranky and things are no good, running will absolutely make it better. Yet I don’t always jump to do it.  Isn’t it weird how sometimes the more desperately we need something, the less we want to do it? Usually, I do crave running when I’m stressed. But sometimes I hit that ultra-stress level, and it’s all over.

I guess all I’m saying is for anyone too cranky to run – no, forget that. Who am I to give you advice on what to do?

To the future me (and to any cranky non-runners, if you happen to feel like taking the advice) –
When inevitably you have a day (or week) where you don’t want to do run – take the day, and eat that zebra cake, and nap if you need to. Yell at the screen at your cool friends doing their hundred-miles. You gotta do what you gotta do.

But in the end, running will make things better. It always does. And your friends aren’t trying to annoy you. They’re just wanting to share their joy with you. Don’t waste any time being annoyed their awesome runs. Jump up and join them. It’s better for everyone.

I have never in my life regretted going for a run. So, just go out put one foot in front of the other. You can do it.

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.