So, I obviously have watched and studied Wheel of Fortune a lot. And I know that if you don’t know, you should just spin, because in spinning, it will give you slightly more time to think, and there’s a possibility that you’ll land on Free Play.
Like, intellectually, I know that. But, there was something about the fact that I just reeeeeeally had no sense of what the word was. And we still had S, L, and N left of “RSTLNE” and I just couldn’t plug in fast enough which of those I thought it would be – though reasonably, of course it’s N, because BOS and BIS aren’t real words for Wheel of Fortune. And honey BUS isn’t a thing, I don’t think. BIL, BOL, and BUL aren’t words. So, like… Obviously it’s N, and that would’ve been the safest guess. And part of me was even leaning toward saying N, because I was able to work out some of this in my head, in the moment. But I couldn’t “check my work” fast enough, and I also thought it might be something outside of the RSTLNE letters.
So, right in that moment, I just for some reason thought a vowel would help me more – which I completely own was stupid. I dunno.
And I also thought I would be beyond devastated if I landed on the $10,000 (mystery) space and didn’t actually know the letter. [But we’ll get to what space I ‘probably’ would’ve landed on in a second.]
I didn’t even expect the puzzle to get to me. The person who spins first, it feels like rarely gets to play in the second puzzle. So, I didn’t think it’d be coming to me. And if it did, I especially didn’t think it’d be coming so fast.
Of course I was trying to figure it out. I’m always trying to figure it out. But sadly, in this case, I just couldn’t figure it out fast enough, and I didn’t use good enough reasoning of the right moves to make.
Also, it was kind of interesting because, like I said, I never thought it would get to me. And after watching back Ben’s performance, I kind of think he maybe just called “popular letters.” I mean, I dunno. Obviously, you’d have to ask him. But I don’t see where the T he called would’ve gone, and in the prize puzzle he called an S, when I thought N made much more sense. So, anyway, for whatever reason, it made it to me and –
I played this whole game slightly more conservatively than I envisioned. My goal going into it was gonna be like “vowels? What are those?!” And basically never call them. But gah!
I didn’t call any vowels in the first puzzle, but in this one, I did –
Aaaaaaaagh! Yes! I know it was annoying to watch me not know the second puzzle. I was more annoyed living it.
I LOVE when they brought the crossword addition to Wheel of Fortune.
A lot of times my friends and I will play this game where we try to figure out the entire crossword before a contestant guesses a single letter – just by using the clue at the bottom and number of letters in each word. Usually the crossword puzzles are pretty freaking doable.
I was shocked that it even made it over to me – especially when, to me at least, “bear” seemed so clear. And then, after bear, I obviously thought badger was clear [hence why I called those letters].
I was so stoked that somehow the second puzzle made it over to me. Of course I wanted to solve it. But alas, I obviously just merely did not know what that small word was.
*sighs in embarrassement*
Here’s the really embarrassing part – and I don’t even have to share this, since you can’t see into my brain. But, I’m going to anyway!
Whenever there’s a crossword puzzle, before anything even comes up – before a single empty letter is shown – I immediately start rolodexing my brain as quickly as I can for any words that would fit with the clue. And then when the crossword comes up, I see if any of them fit (based on number of letters), and where they would cross, etc.
Well, the first word (the first!) word that came into my mind was “bunches” (like honey bunches of oats). I saw that “bunch” was one letter too short and “bunches” was one letter too long for the spot where badger was, so I threw it away out of my brain.
I didn’t think to take the bridge from “bunches” to “bun.”
Then, even when I was going to call a vowel, U was on the tip of my tongue! I was reeeeeeally really thinking U for some reason! I didn’t know it, but my gut said U (which makes sense in this case! u makes more letters that make sense – bum, bug, bun… those feel like potentially they could go with honey… what was O gonna give me? Honey box? I don’t think that’s a thing, though I suppose it could’ve been, I guess). And I psyched myself out completely.
When I said I was going to buy a vowel, I was planning on U, but obviously unsure. And when Pat said “which one” in the voice he did [which, I know he was just fun-ly mocking me, and it’s all good, I’m not blaming him, of course], but when he did it in that unsure voice, for a moment, I just thought he could see into my brain or something, which of course is a little crazy, but I was like “Pat knows. Somehow Pat knows that I’m about to screw up and guess U. Maybe I shouldn’t guess U. Maybe I should guess O. O is generally statistically more likely.”
So, I did.
But the real problem is, I shouldn’t have guessed a vowel at all!
There was a small part of me that considered just solving the entire puzzle literally before spinning the wheel, because I thought that would be a really fun, silly moment – and that Pat would probably have something to say about it. And I thought it would make for pretty good TV.
Plus, I felt like I was on fire after the first two toss-ups. So, I was ready to just call out another puzzle!
However, a few reasons I didn’t do that (in no particular order):
1) The contestant coordinators tell you all the time not to be in a rush to solve, and that if there’s a consonant left with multiple instances, to at least try to spin until you get that.
[Of course, they may have changed their tune if the other option was someone doing a solve with no letters on the board, because that woulda been cool. But I didn’t really think about the fact that there might be an asterisk to their advice – even though I should know that there’s always an asterisk to all advice ever, and also, like kinda who cares what they prefer while you’re up there – it’s your game at that point haha *shrug*.]
2) This could be the only time I’m in control of the Wheel for the first 3 main puzzles! I’m with some good players. I won’t get to start the 2nd or 3rd puzzle. I need to bank aaaaall the money I can right now, because if Ben lands on express, and I’ve got a total of $4,000 in the bank, I’m screwed.
3) This was a HUGE puzzle. There were EIGHTEEN instances of consonants on the board! Sometimes puzzles are preeeeeeetty short. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth! There’s a LOT of potential money on the board. Go grab it.
4) It’s been a dream of mine for a LONG time to play Wheel of Fortune. So play. Spin the wheel. Enjoy it.
So, as you’ve probably seen by now, I got Lose A Turn which was a big bummer. I was worried Steve was gonna spin a few times, but he just spun once (even though there was still another multi-consonants left (S)). He only landed on $500. So, I was still in the lead after the first puzzle.
Granted, he knew he’d start the second puzzle. So, I’m sure that played into his decision in some ways.
Now, I feel like most people out there (who I’ve talked to at least) live somewhere in between “solve when there are no letters” and “solve when there are all the letters” [which is kind of what I’ve been acting like is my only option – because, to me, it kind of was my only option (ish, haha)].
Basically, I kind of said this above, but because I knew Express could potentially be in play, and that a trip would definitely be in play [ironically, these things were in play for me, but they could’ve been in play for Ben!], and I wanted to win the game, I only felt comfortable if I could pad my lead by at least $10,000.
Thankfully, I had a long enough puzzle to potentially make that possible – if I could do it.
Sure, $5,500, or whatever exactly I had, woulda been nice. But you want to win. That was my main goal during the game part – WIN.
You want to be a Wheel of Fortune champ (for the pride) – and also, of course you want your chance at the bonus round!
So, I was playing not to make as much money as possible, but to win. [Those are sort of one and the same goals, but they are slightly different.]
So, that was that. Ain’t no way I was stopping ’til I either reached 10 grand, won the trip on the board, or ran out of letters – whichever came first.
Although, I will say now, seeing how the game panned out, of course I wish I would’ve gone for it, because you only live once! And what a potential viral moment!
It almost felt like it was sort of meant-to-be (which I’ll get into on the behind the scenes posts). So… I regret it now, but that’s because I have hindsight. Had I done it, but then Ben got the 3rd puzzle, and I went home with like $8,000 (after my toss-ups), I’d be kicking myself.
So, I would say you live, you learn. But there’s not really anything to learn. I just did the best I could with the information I had at the time. *shrug*
Picking up from yesterday – okay. The first puzzle.
So, I know the puzzle quite literally the moment it comes on the board. No letters up, I know the whole thing.
I’d studied, of course. And our theme week was “Surfin’ Safari.”
The Beach Boys’ first album was called “Surfin’ Safari.” So, I thought they might be involved. I studied both their albums and song titles, just in case.
So, as soon as they said song and artist, I thought, “I bet this is The Beach Boys.” And that fit right after where “by” would be. Then if you looked at the song title, obviously “Good Vibrations” fit right away.
It’s one of their super famous songs. It’s 4 letters, followed by a long word. It’s gonna be ‘Good Vibrations by the Beach Boys’.
That’s why I called the letters in a somewhat weird order. Normally on Song/Artist, you’d call “B-Y” first [in any order you want], because you know “by” is in the puzzle.
I called the y, but left the B, because there were 4 Bs available on the board. I was going to keep spinning until I either landed on $2,500 and called B, or ran out of letters to call, and had to call B since there’d be nothing left but that.
[I also would’ve considered calling B had I landed on a vacation, just to end the puzzle and call it a day, because I reeeeeally wanted a vacation!]
So, I started going to the G and D of “good” early, because I knew there was only one occurrence of each of those letters, and I was trying to save my multiples for higher dollar amounts where possible.
So, yes, had I been watching at home, I might’ve wondered what that weird girl was doing, going in such an odd order. So, to anyone wondering that, that’s what I was doing.
You really, for the most part can’t tell what you’re doing with the wheel – or at least, I couldn’t. I think at home, you might think you can kinda understand more than in person, but I couldn’t get a sense of if there was a way to aim (which would’ve been against the rules anyway), or how “hard” to spin it, etc.
But, I did feel like I kept landing close-ish to bankrupt and/or lose a turn, and I thought if I tried to spin it extra hard, that I might finally get a couple of spaces away from that and feel “safer.”
However, at my normal spins, I was usually doing about 4ish spaces below a full spin. Had I kept doing that, I might not have landed on Lose A Turn – which I did when I tried spinning a little harder. So, I mean, that’s all just kind of luck anyway.
But still, part of me wonders had I just kept spinning along to the “plan,” or at least the rate I happened to be spinning, and not changed it up and tried spinning too hard, if I woulda landed on something nicer…
(If I *had* stayed in the pattern of landing 3 spaces to the right after I landed on Free play, it would’ve been $800, then $500, and then $2,500! But you just never know. I’m sure it’s hard to stay in an exact pattern – and it was one I was clearly not aware of while spinning anyway.)
Lots of people on the internet made fun of me for being a “theater kid.” And tbh, I probably kind of deserve it.
For the record, I did not super want to talk about that!
Of course I think BMI is cool and everything. I’ve only done, I dunno, about a million-part blog series about it on this very blog. So, yes, I love it.
However, to strangers who don’t know me and are getting to learn a minute or so of info about me, I would NEVER open with what I’m studying. Ever. What you’re aspiring to do is not as interesting – to strangers – as what you’ve done.
But you have to say you “do” something for a living. And it’s not interesting to say you work in TV. They know I work in TV. They made sure I didn’t have any conflicts. I’ve never worked on the Sony lot, or on anything related to Wheel.
But it’s still not interesting when Pat is like “what do you do?” to be like “oh, I’m a TV editor.” So, I couldn’t very well say that. But you can’t just say you do nothing. “Blogger” is not a real job.
So, what we landed on was that I was in my writing program – because I am in it. But if it were up to me, we woulda skipped “what do you do” all together.
I bet I could’ve pushed a whole lot harder for that. But I didn’t want to be trouble or anything. And I just thought it was sort of inescapable, based on all the Wheel interviews I’ve ever seen. So, eh.
One thing that was really fun though, and that I was super looking forward to, is that all the time if someone says they’re “from LA,” Pat will ask something like “but where are you really from?”
So, being a girl who was a baby out here in Culver City – whose parents used to joke about her teeny tiny little sunburned fat rolls (where I’d be tan on the outside of my arm, and you’d push my tiny ‘Michelin Man’ fat rolls on my baby arm apart, and the spaces in between would be all not-tan (a little ‘fun fact’ my parents love to tell haha)) – I was SO excited to say “this is HOME!” Yeeeeeeah! Where are you reeeeally from? I’m a California girl, and e’rybody knows it!
One interesting fact I really liked – and they seemed to too(!) – is that every year on my birthday, I do something I’ve never done before!
Pat even asked me about it. He asked what I did this year, and I was like “bungee jumping forward and backward and in the dark!”
It was fun. But alas, it got cut from broadcast! [Oof haha.]
I’m sorry, America, that you had to learn one of my less interesting facts. Love you xo haha
I don’t 100% know where to start, because I know there are a LOT of questions – including wanting to know everything that leads up to showtime.
I really want to do the play-by-play of the show before I do anything else, because I always feel like game theory comes first, and that’s kind of the meat of it all. So, I’m gonna start with the show, and then I’ll get to the rest of the stuff.
So, the show!
On basically every toss-up in the show, until the last one, I ring before I know it. 3 of 4 times that worked out well for me. Once I just got slightly too ahead of the buzzer.
(And once, I didn’t ring early. I rang after I knew it. And I would’ve been beaten by someone else, except he got it wrong. Overall, I stand by ringing early being the best strategy.)
I kind of co-opted Ken Jennings’ strategy which is to trust yourself that you know the answer. Ring in just before you know it. And then hope that in the split seconds of the ring and the host calling your name, you know it.
I was preeeetty sure the first one was Catching a Great Wave. So, I went for it.
The next one, as I rang in, my brain process was like “That second word is north or south, I bet. And that 3rd word – pacific, right? That makes the most sense for the last word, especially in this theme week. So, if it’s with pacific, it’s most likely south. The South Pacific.
Good thing I got it when I did because what I didn’t realize in person, but you see clearly when you watch the tape is that Ben was ready to jump on that. And I would’ve HATED to go second. That’s the worst spot for sure. The whole game could’ve been different in a terrible way (for me) had I gone second.
Funnily enough, speaking of what order you go in, when I was thinking of strategies for the show, I considered intentionally throwing the second puzzle so I would have the opportunity to go 3rd. I think 3rd is the sweet spot – because you start control of the all important prize puzzle.
I asked a couple of my friends who’d been on Wheel if they thought that was a good idea. They both said no. So much is left up to chance, and you definitely don’t want to go second. So, better to take your $2,000 and at least get in the second-best position (which is to go first).
Now, I say I want to try to take it away because in reality, I know I’m still gonna judge people on game shows and news shows and everything, because we all do. So, maybe that’s just my lot in life for this episode – to have chosen to go on at a pretty inconvenient time for myself, and so then I get memed (or sort of just video-clipped I guess). That’s… fine, I guess. So be it haha. It hurts a little, but it’s just the internet, I guess.
*Note: I will say Wheel DOES give you the option to forfeit and go back in the pool of people. But I didn’t want to do that for reasons I’ll get into, since clearly this will be a series (like the other game show series’).
Also, I had like way too much in my heart riding on Wheel of Fortune. So, when it didn’t ‘live up to my own expectations,’ it was a pretty huge bummer for me. [The Happiness Lab says basically not to preplan big dreams in your life for this exact reason – although on The Price Is Right, it came true, so I dunno.]
Some of the reasons I’ve hyped it up so much in my head are – as you’ve seen on my blog, I took a very long hiatus after a ‘traumatic event’. And I thought Wheel was gonna be my “big return!” People love game show series’ on my blog! I’ll win. They’ll love it. I’ll feel triumphant. It’ll be the beginning of my “new life,” where I sort of have my confidence back, and my momentum will be going, baby!
Also, I’d gotten pretty fat after said traumatic event, which was very embarrassing (for me, at least, especially having already had a weight loss journey earlier in life – I didn’t want to do that again, but a deep depression grabbed ahold of me). I’d gone to a bunch of therapy, become myself again, and lost a toooon of weight. And I really wanted plastic surgery to get the excess skin and stuff removed. So, I wanted to win all that sweet, sweet dough on Wheel. It was gonna be my big “final nail in the coffin to my trauma!” thing. So, I wanted to win the bonus round, so I could pay for said surgery – and keep all this new triumph going!
That was the plan. – be triumphant, win the bonus round, get the surgery to finally officially finish the “fix” of my past, and talk about all that triumph, in my triumphant return to blogging.
(Is that enough time saying triumph? ;).)
That obviously did not happen haha
But. I’m still skinny (ish), and I’m back to blogging (maybe also ish, since it’s only day 2 back), and I’m alive. I have enough money to live.
So, I didn’t get the exact picture I wanted, but here we are, and this is still good in its own special way of embarrassing myself on TV, and also winning the game still (yay!).
We will SO get into every little detail. Let’s do it – starting tomorrow!
Since the internet is a little aflutter, I guess I’ll start with the elephant in the room. I don’t want to be weird or have a little cloud over Wheel of Fortune, but I do probably have to address it, so:
Everyone thinks I came across as a little crazy on my episode – and I definitely see why.
Not to be full of excuses, but – at the time of the taping, I had a semi-perfect storm of a lot of things not going great for me. In addition to how people’s lives wave up and down and I wasn’t particularly on a great upward wave… but aside from normal stuff, here were two semi-big things.
I was working a night job at the time. You had to wake up at something like 5am to tape Wheel of Fortune. So, I had to start my day, just a couple of hours after I normally end it. Putting your sleep schedule on its head doesn’t usually allow for a greeeeeeat outcome with a beautifully functioning brain.
We taped in March, and in February, I was in the hospital for like 3 or 4 days, because for the first time in 11 years, my heart was acting up. (And to some extent, so was my stomach.) Ultimately, I’m fine, but it was a long few days, with some tests and small procedures, and I was still weaning off some pretty intense pain meds that made me feel wonky (cannot have been good for focused game play). So, health wise, not the beeeest place.
So, this sleep-deprived, recently intensely-pain-medicated, wee-ly stressed out girl went to play Wheel of Fortune.
One thing I want to try to take away from this experience is a bigger sense of empathy for people who are strangers. It’s so easy to watch someone on a show and be like “what an IDIOT!” But you have no idea what they’re going through. Maybe their dog died that morning and they’re distracted or something. Maybe they just got a cancer diagnosis, and on and on and on. We don’t know.
(I mean… it’s also possible they’re just bad at the game. And if you’re just sitting at home, it’s okay, maybe, to have a little superiority for funsies. But, as far as how you’re actually gonna think about that person, if you remember them, or as far as what you say on the internet… just something to think about [especially for me, as I think I may have broken down people losing games on this very blog at some points].)
I hardly even know what to say! I have a lot of feelings about it – and so did the internet!
[If you missed the episode, you can watch it here.]
I was both loved and hated on social media – but I guess I’d rather be polarizing and memorable than forgotten about/forgettable.
*spoiler alert* also, by the way haha
Obviously I’m upset I didn’t win the bonus puzzle. You saw that. How do I acknowledge I was lame for not getting it while still being grateful and not seeming like a spoilsport? Oh boy.
Also, I think my expectations were a liiiiiiittle high hahaha. I’m kinda in the “game show world.” It’s in my heart, and my friends and everything.
I know 3 people who’ve been on Wheel – they’ve all won. So, I kind of expected to win, a little. I know a LOT is up to luck. But I studied pretty hard! I thought I’d do well at the toss-ups, and hooooopefully keep control of the Wheel when I had it.
I’ve been watching Wheel daily with my dad, and he’s always impressed at how quickly I solve things. THREE different people in my life – completely on their own – have joked about how I was gonna be the “Ken Jennings of Wheel.” Was I the “Ken Jennings of Wheel?” No I was not! Not even close to it. Aye, aye, aye.
[Althoooooough, perhaps I could’ve gone on to be, if we got to come back when we win! He had some not great episodes too. So, if we wanna see the bright side, I mean… hey… at least I did win! haha]
Anyway, starting tomorrow, we will go through every bit of the show – what was in my head when I called certain letters and all that jazz. I’ll also tell you what happened in commercial breaks, how I auditioned, and answer any questions you have.
You can let me know your questions any time. And if you want to know everything about Wheel, come back here nightly at 11:33pm Pacific!
xoxo
Talk to you more (and veeeery in depth haha) soon!
So, this year, I became a full-fledged member of The Television Academy! That also means it’s the first year I was eligible to vote for the Emmys!
For anyone who doesn’t know – obviously we always end up with Emmy nominees, which is a very small group that’s made public. But before that group, there’s a ballot of, I think in my category, it’s usually like 50(?) people…
So, first, everyone votes from the ballot to get to the nominees. And then, people vote from the nominees to determine the winners.
This year, I was on the ballot for something I did from The Daily Show. So, I got to vote for myself!
[Side note (maybe unnecessary, I dunno)]: I usually like to make my new thing I do every year more active, not just sitting at a computer screen. But, you know from the fact that I’m still technically on my “official” break from the blog that I haven’t consistently been in the super best place emotionally (and I’ve been having some physical health problems too). And weirdly, I got suuuuuper sick on my birthday this year. I spent the vast majority of the day sleeping and (ew) puking. I don’t know what happened there. I used to get sick SO rarely. But in the last couple of years, I’m a mess. (I’m sure it has to do with everything that’s been going on, and not working out as much/taking care of myself as much (which I’m working on), etc. etc.)
So, anyway, it was hard to do much of anything. But I did have the ability to sit on my couch and press a button to vote for myself, and even though it may have just taken place in my living room, I still thought it was pretty darn cool.
[Updated to add: I ultimately didn’t get nominated from the ballot stage… I don’t think anyone really thought TDS was in contention for editing this year, so it wasn’t a surprise… It was still cool to vote though!]
I’m NOT currently injured. I’m just going through my blog and accidentally set this one to private, but it can stay public. I think it’s an interesting enough piece of context to Project 882. So, I’m just setting it to public which i think will notify anyone with notifications on. Sorry!!!!
Good Question!
‘Cause goodness gracious does that seem crazy! (And so unnecessary! And so annoying!)
Okay, to catch anybody up who doesn’t know the story (just skip past the lines if you don’t need the catch up).
Around February of last year, my ankle was hurt at a half marathon. I thought maybe it was just normal soreness, or maybe pain I “deserved” or whatever because I’d gained some weight and I was like “I’m too heavy for my poor joints.”
Turns out my ankle was sprained… But I didn’t know it.
I did baby it a bit for a hot second. I cancelled a marathon entry I was supposed to do (a few of them, really). I dropped down distances. I took longer at races. And after a few weeks, I saw a foot doctor because the pain was so intolerable.
And he moved my foot around a little and was like, “it’s not broken. I think you’re fine. Get some comfy insoles.”
So, I just kept on forging ahead with my giant running project (which very quickly became a walking project, but still. Lots o’ miles on my feet.)…
Until finally, November rolled around, and I couldn’t walk any distance without a limp anymore. I saw an orthopedist out here in (beautiful) Los Angeles. He did an MRI and we found out I had [some fancy words, something something special ligament maybe? I don’t know]. The point is, they said it basically boiled down to a really bad sprained ankle. And because it was so bad and compounded by how long I’d been walking on it, I’d need physical therapy. We were beyond just hanging on crutches for a week or two or whatever.
My physical therapist is pretty dope. And I definitely am, in general, seeing improvement.
But.
We’re also seeing that there’s a lot of work to be done. Because not only do we have to rehab my right ankle, we have to rehab my whole right leg/hip!
(GAH!)
I’d been over-compensating for so long (many months now), that now my left leg is like a million times stronger than my right.
(Even a doctor unrelated to this stuff, when I had an appointment in December, asked me if I was left-handed because she noticed my muscle was, well, noticeably bigger (I felt weird about using noticeably twice so close together, but she noticed it because it was very noticeable to her!).)
But I am not left-handed. (And even if I were, the discrepancy probably wouldn’t be this big.)
Sometimes if I’m really struggling with a certain exercise, my physical therapist will ask me to try it on my left side just so we can see. And it’ll be a thousand times easier. I had no idea I was completely lop-siding myself.
So, we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us. It might be another 8 weeks (or more!) until I’m back to just normal – and I don’t mean the old “normal” of “ready to run a half marathon at a moment’s notice.” I mean, maybe being able to go to Bar Method without hurting myself.
So, my ankle is like the problem that never ends and it’s very hard (in my opinion, at least) to try to explain to people that a silly sprained ankle is becoming such a giant deal, and is the bane of my existence. But it is, and there you have it.
I’m totally late to post this, as I always am, ’cause I’m the worst. But anyway, pretend like it’s the day before the Super Bowl hahaha. (And still feel free to give your #AGoodGame  pledges, even if you decide to make them after the fact.)
Well, well. Justin Timberlake is returning to the halftime show. I don’t know if I’ll ever not be furious about the Janet Jackson/Justin Timberlake fiasco. It really felt like she was punished and he was not. (I didn’t even know until recently that apparently a nickname went around back then of “Teflon Timberlake” because nothing would stick to him.)
He can’t singlehandedly change society, but he could’ve used his position of power to help, and to loudly call our the hypocrisy of punishing the woman who was undressed in public and not punishing the man who did it. (I don’t really think either of them needed to be punished after that – especially if it was an accident as they said, but whatever happened to them, I think, should’ve happened equally…) But no, after worshipping her when he was growing up (he used to kiss her poster at night on his wall) and dreaming of working with her – as soon as he did, and things went wrong, it was all “Janet who, what now?”
The way we treat women – and especially women of color – in this country is oftentimes not fair. And this was a bright shining famous example of that. And to make matters worse, here, now, in the “year of the woman,” when we, as a society, are supposed to be thinking about how we treat women, we bring back Justin Timberlake?!
So. Two things are happening tomorrow.
1) Janet Jackson appreciation day on twitter. @MatthewACherry came up with it. He wants to get it trending, with our favorite Janet movies/gifs/and things. So, enjoy that and post away.
2) Josh Gondelman and his friend Emma Sandoe came up with this thing they do every year called #AGodGame. It started out for Patriots fans who felt conflicted about some of the Patriots politics and also some of the problems with the NFL. You pledge to give a certain amount of money to charity based on whatever you want – # of FGs, # of TDs, points in the game, number of beers your drink, whatever. And it’s supposed to help offset (at least a little) watching a “problematic” team, or a “problematic” sport.
So, I’m giving $5 for every minute Justin Timberlake is onstage to Black Women’s Blueprint, with an extra $50 if he dares trot out the Prince hologram.
[Again, an old post. So, sorry; we’re just catching up here!]
Welp. It wasn’t all for naught. We finished – doing what we set out to do. And in the process, we raised over $10,000 for charities I believe in.
I took my first international trip, which was cool. I met some cool people. And I forced myself to get out of the house, even when I didn’t want to.
There were tribulations throughout the year, but at the end of the day, I finished.
In a perfect world, I would’ve done bigger races and ended in bigger ways. It would’ve been as triumphant as the 52 half marathons. But there will be future run projects, and maybe those will be even better still!
As you can tell on the schedule, I ended up swapping a LOT of races. It was just a struggle of a year. It started strong. Then I had an ankle injury. I didn’t have a lot of great mental health, which hurt things. I switched jobs, and the show I switched to got cancelled. So, money and personal schedule stuff changed.
The year didn’t work out as one would hope, but I just had to get in those miles. And Charlie Alewine does these great races in Long Beach that are incredibly relaxed. They’re small with no time limit. And the people are nice. So, since I just wanted to make sure I finished, I loaded my schedule up with doable, possible races.
The people were SUPER nice. I loved talking to them in the mornings. I’m glad they hosted these races, as that really kept making this possible.
But I don’t have much more to say about hanging out in Long Beach for 13.1 or 6.2 or 3.1 miles at a time!
Sorry I don’t have a giant ending note for this! xoxoxo
I love the New Year’s race – running through downtown!
My favorite part of this race was that as I was at the little afterparty area on the lawn with music, someone started yelling “Aurora!” “Hey, Aurora!” “Aurora!” as he got closer to me.
So, then I’m trying to look and figure out who this is, ’cause I don’t recognize him. Turns out – there’s a little girl really close to me who’s name is Aurora!!!! That was just her dad. We had a big laugh about it. And Aurora and I ended up dancing much of the night away. It was so cute!
Well, another 7-day series where I just did what I could. Some days that was a half and a 10k. On one, it was just a 5k.
And I know I’m probably supposed to be saying how freeing or amazing or whatever all of this is. That probably make a better “story.” But, tbh, I don’t even really know what the point of this is anymore.
It’s not freeing or fun. As I’ve stated, I’m dealing with the never ever ever ending injury of the sprained ankle And so now what?
I’m out there struggling through 11 hour long(!) “half marathons” (with a lot of work on elliptical machines because it’s easier on my ankle, which of course makes me feel weird because how real is that anyway?).
So, I’m struggling with these ridiculously long time because of pain or exhaustion or movement issues or whatever – and to what end?
i think about the ways the project and sexual assault are tied together – as obviously sexual assault was the springboard for the project in the first place, and the 882 number is significant. And so, what have I learned? Nothing?
Is the sprained ankle thing showing me that yet again when all signs are pointing to something being wrong, I just plow ahead with the plan (like how it took me almost half a year to go get therapy for sexual assault, because even though all signs were pointing to a complete breakdown “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine!”).
Or, is this showing me that for some reason I need to put myself through even more pain and misery than I’ve already experienced?
I mean, I know I’m being a Debbie Downer here. Maybe it’s supposed to show that no matter what, you can finish what you set out to do, I guess…
Maybe it’s not even meant to show anything. There is no larger meaning, and it’s like, “just get it done.”
I will say I’ve become super obsessed with The Good Wife. So, at least I like that part.
I’m just – I dunno. I’m disappointed. Thus far, my other 3 projects I feel like really helped me – expanded my world, showed me new things, did generally what they set out to do, plus even more on top of it.
And technically, this one expanded my world in that I got my passport…. But, I dunno. It didn’t do the things I think I wanted. It’s nearing the end, and I don’t have some kind of sense of power or achievement or “I have my life back!” that I think I thought I would. This wasn’t some cool journey from devoted to fulfilled.
I’m still devastated some days. I haven’t made a complete return to my “normal” life. Things are harder than I thought, taking longer than I thought, and as much as I hate to just be saddy sad sad Aurora, being a sad lameface oh so much of the time since January 2016, that’s just how I feel right now.
So, anyway, another hundred something miles down. Another 120 or so to go.
I mean, I can and I did. But I don’t handle it well. I can’t even think of a time I’ve been to Brooklyn in the last year (since the last Rock ‘n’ Roll Brooklyn). I know it’s weird to have a whole borough out of my life. But that’s my life, at least for now, I guess…
I didn’t do well there. We drove by an area of Brooklyn in the morning uber that I did not realize we’d drive by, and I was like, “Ooh! I wanna get out!”
But, I couldn’t. I’d already signed up. I was basically already there. I had to get in some miles. I also was tapped to run Rock ‘n’ Roll’s snapchat for the event (which was super fun!). So, I had to go.
But I dropped down to the 5-miler, because I just was not in a good headspace for 13 miles. So, it was weird because every time I think, “Bam! I’m better!” it’s like, “WHOA. Maybe I’m not.”
I walked the 5 miler with this super nice woman from Florida. We talked the whole way, and it was all fine and lovely. Then, I did a bunch of snapchatting and then went home and slept.
And then cried. I was supposed to go to a friend’s show that night, and I didn’t. It was the first time in what feels like a long while that I cancelled on something because I wasn’t in a good headspace. So, it felt like a bummer, and like I “lost” the little daily war today. But I guess I just have to try to be better tomorrow.
So, I got to have an interview with someone from competitor magazine, which was pretty freaking cool!
He seemed super nice, and I’ll definitely let you know when the article is up!
I got to sing the national anthem for both races. And remember back in Chicago when I talked about the “finding my voice” montage? [You don’t remember that, because it’s in my drafts. But perhaps, if I ever catch up, someday people will have read it. And they will remember it. Or you’ll read it later and be like, “this is what she was talking about haha]
Anyway, I found it, I guess!
People seemed impressed. I felt it was a spot on performance – really hit that high note well, and all that business. It was great. I felt great.
It was a tiring race, but they all kind of are. 13 miles seems far sometimes. But that’s the way it is, I suppose!
I lucked out and stayed in a hotel super close to the race. (It was even where the rock ‘n’ roll people themselves stayed! I kept seeing them in the elevator. So, it was definitely the place to be.)
I know this is a short blog post, but I don’t know what else I have to say – good, nice people; fun magazine article; performance I feel good about. Bam, bam, bam. Done and done! (Another 16.2 miles in the books!)
[This is a backpost from last week, that’s less relevant now, but I think still relevant nonetheless.]
For me, it’s Rob Portman. That’s who I call every day (as I’m sort of, kind of, from Ohio-ish, and I don’t reeeeeally know which senators we are supposed to call and which we aren’t. Because some people say, “Just call Murkowski and Collins anyway!” And others say, “Don’t waste your time or a senator’s time. They’re only listening to their constituents.”
I’d sort of argue that we are their constituents when it comes to a giant national healthcare issue… We’re all Americans, and it’s going to affect all of us. (But, I also do understand that in real life, technically that’s not reeeeeally true.)
Buuuuut we all can donate to their challengers, no matter which state their in. So, maybe they will listen to us. I don’t know who they’re listening to. But I just know I’m calling. One thing I know is whether we consider me mostly living in California or mostly in New York, either way, I’m pretty sure Gillibrand and Harris (and Schumer and Feinstein) don’t need me calling them. (I mean, maybe just to keep tallies up so they have something to say on the floor if they need, but they’re voting how they’re voting (in the right way). And I assume they’re busy, so I wonder, “Eh. Should I bother them, just to make sure I’m tallied? Maybe! But I haven’t been…
So, anyway, I call Rob Portman’s office everyday.
I have a new little rule where I can’t leave my bed until I do it. Wake up. Grab my phone. Call Rob Portman.
I put his office number in my phone from the last healthcare thing. And now he’s always right there in my recent calls. So, it’s pretty simple. I call and leave a message.
Tbh, they’ve been a little rambling lately. “Hey there, Aurora De Lucia again asking you to both vote no and come out publicly in opposition to the new Graham-Cassidy bill. I’m sure I sound tired. I am. Aren’t you tired too? Can we maybe just stop this? Like, could y’all stop putting forth healthcare bills that are so terrible, and also, could you start coming out in strong opposition to them if they are put forth? I know this is so fun, becoming super bffs and all with a daily phone call. But how great would it be if you were’t getting mailboxes full of these? Aren’t you tired? I’m kinda tired… But not too tired to keep calling! I won’t be worn down. I’m certainly not too tired to make sure I donate the maximum to whoever your challenger is in the next election if you continue to make such terrible decisions like supporting these healthcare measures that want to take healthcare away from so many people who desperately need it.” …Or something like that
But I ramble all the time in my day-to-day life. Why would we think it’d be any different when I’m calling a senator?
Anyway.
The point is, I’m calling a senator everyday. I’d encourage you too as well!
Okay, so as you heard, I went to her book signing (because, of course). While I was there, I gave her a letter. It is basically kind of the gist of the back post y’all just got – of being faced with all these decisions and wondering “What would Hillary Rodham Clinton do?” I thanked her for being such an incredible role model. Aaaaand, yeah.
That was Tuesday. On Tuesday, during an incredibly large and busy press tour, I gave her a letter, and by Friday, I had a letter in my mailbox from her. (What?! :-))
Do you see that?! HILLARY RODHAM CLINTON is “in awe of my strength and resilience”
For most of these races, I won’t be going back next year, because it’s not a realistic pace (for me, at least) money-wise, time-wise, energy-wise, improvement-wise, anything-wise to be able to keep up this many races. But this one is one I’d really like to return to.
It was a short, not-too-expensive flight. It was a fun long Labor Day weekend. The people were super nice. The scenery is fun. The race even ends right at Dairy Queen!
People were so sweet to the back-of-the-packers. I was super slow. (What’s new?) But even if you’re nearly last, people cheer for you as if you’re a rockstar. That was super cute.
Also, at the end of the race, I got my big “Hall of Fame” heavy medal for doing 15 Rock ‘n’ Rolls this year. I have hardly any concept of time. Sometimes it feels like I’ve been doing this project forever, and sometimes it’s like, “Whoa! I’m at 15 already?”
In addition to the half, the day before there was a nice little 5k followed by a mile on the beach. They made it really easy to do both, as the finish of the 5k was practically right by the start of the next one. And the timing worked out to even if you came in very very late in the 5k, you still had about 25 minutes or so to make it to the start. (They also had a number of wave starts on the beach. So, if you came in even later, or needed more time between, you woulda still been able to make it.)
For the beach one, I thought I’d wear shoes. (Who knows what’s hiding in the sand.) But it was hard and lame, and almost immediately I went to the side and took off my shoes. And I heard that most people who wore shoes did the same.
It was fun and different and interesting and cool to do a mile in the sand – a nice little change of pace from road (or even trail running). (And a great reason to come back to Virginia Beach!), because it was so unique!
So, it was a good weekend, in a cute, laid-back place. I’d definitely put this on my “happy to do again” list!
Today is Michael Jackson’s birthday! And I ran across this hilarious thread on twitter. (I’m going to embed the screenshots here, but I think it’s probably better to just read the tweet thread.
[And then I have a few more comments after all these embedded photos, if you want, but they’re not necessary if you don’t. The point is, just enjoy this hilarious creative thread!
[The comments I said were down here: I sometimes have a little extra moment now before I share things wondering if it’s “responsible”? This guy talks about violence in here, and how if another man came for his Queen, that man would be executed… And while I don’t think we should be spreading the idea of violence as good or funny in general, or like a woman should belong to a man… I don’t think this is totally about that. I think anyone would be upset if their partner in royalty was doing this right in front of them. I don’t think that has to do with ownership. And also, a Pharaoh, I think(?), does have the power to execute? I don’t think it’s literally like, “if a man get’s close to my woman, he’s done.” I think it’s just like this is Pharaoh life… So, it’s a funny thread (in my opinion). I want to be responsible in the comedy I share. But also, I can’t over-analyze every single thing to the point of it not even being fun to just read and live anymore… So, anyway. That’s that. A thread that had me for real, in real life laughing out loud in my office. I had never considered it from the Pharaoh’s POV when I was a kid. Good thread. And happy 59th birthday to one of my heroes (RIP, MJ… Great video :-)).]
Okay, I’m writing this from the future – years later.
As we well know, I was struggling in 2017. So, there were a number of blog posts in 2017 that I just left blank for myself to fill in later, thinking I’d get to it.
Granted, here I am getting to it. But there are so many holes in these experiences now. I don’t remember a bunch of details and everything…
So, I went looking for pictures of this to try to remember what the trip was like…
I can’t find any!
Usually in San Francisco, I spend my time with my friend Jaime. I think I have pics from all my other SF trips with her. But I can’t find any from this one…
So… I have completely forgotten this. I did it. I have the medal and my results are there.
But I do not remember the specifics. If I find anything else, I’ll let you know. Sorry for the nothingness, but this is all I’ve got right now! (Eep!)
So, since I was already in Dublin, I went ahead and checked out Northern Ireland as well, because why not?
And most importantly, I met a cool friend – Victoria – on twitter! (Man, I love twitter.)
Now, one thing I think is kinda funny is as you may have seen around these parts, some of these posts I left empty for myself to write when I was feeling in a better headspace. But for some reason, I wrote the nachos story while I was in Ireland. So you have this super detailed nachos story tomorrow – a story of nachos is more detailed than the whole rest of the trip! hahaha
But as far as what I remember all this time later, as I’m trying to fill this in – Victoria was SO nice and SUCH a gracious host. And everyone in Ireland was super nice. If you meet people at a bar, they’re like your family. They’re ready to share food and drinks. It’s a friendly city.
Victoria took me all around on a long walk to show me the very divided country of Northern Ireland. You could see the divisions in the houses and everything. They were divided along lines of religion.
And those are kind of the points I still remember now. I’m sorry I didn’t fill this in sooner! Hopefully it’s something I get better about in the future. xoxoxo
The people are very cool too. The 5k ended at a really gorgeous park, which was nice to walk through. Everything was relaxed in Dublin.
My cab driver didn’t understand how Trump could’ve possible won, when he said every American he met was like, “Yes, I’m American. Please don’t judge us too harshly. I’m so sorry. I didn’t vote for Trump.” He’s like “every American I met didn’t vote for him. So, how did he win?”
And my answer was basically, in answer to that specific question, people without passports voted for him.
Aside from that, I stayed at sort of a fancy hotel. Dublin felt fancy. I’m sure there were places that weren’t fancy, but it felt fancy to me.
Dublin was cool!
(Sorry, as with some of these 2017 posts, they were bookmarked to write, and then actually written years later. So, sadly I don’t have as many of the details, but I’m memorializing what I have! xoxoxo
[great news! This is not a post on sexual assault!]
As you know I’ve been trying to catch up on this blog. And while I maybe have a handful (or a couple of handfuls?) more things to say about sexual assault and that story to feel like I’ve “closed out that chapter,” or what have you, I’m kinda (at least at this moment), tired of talking about it. So, for the time being, I wanted to talk about some other things instead. One of them being this amazing thing from a Cory Booker talk I went to.
As you know, I quite enjoy Cory Booker. And I’ve heard him talk a lot. So, sometimes little tidbits, stories, and inspirational quotes aren’t super new to me, because I listen and I’ve heard them before.
But at this talk he had in New Jersey (that I went to, because, I live all the way out here, why not?), he said he was pretty sure he hadn’t ever talked about this publicly. My ears perked up, and his new wisdom did not disappoint.
He said someone asked him, “How do you want to be remembered? What do you want your legacy to be?”
And he said, “I don’t think I’ll be remembered.”
And from there he talked about how he didn’t know the name of his great-great grandfather. (I don’t know mind. Do you know yours?) He explained that he doesn’t work to be remembered, because he thinks in 200 years, no one will know the name “Cory Booker.” But that ultimately, what we put in the world moves forward. He focuses on putting good energy in that can be felt and built upon.
He gave an example (a story he has told many times) about the lawyer who helped his family get a home. The lawyer had just started helping black families who were being discriminated against. It was a giant deal at the signing that a white family didn’t show up. I think a fight broke out. Cory’s dad was attacked by dog.
And later, when Cory was researching his book, he found a lot of people from his childhood to ask them questions, basically to fact check his own book. And he found the lawyer to see what his account was (since he’d always heard it from his dad).
And when he asked the lawyer why he chose to take on these kinds of cases (and potentially put himself in harm’s way and everything), the lawyer told him that he’d seen the march in Selma. And he told his law partner they had to go down there immediately and help. But they were just starting and didn’t have the money to do that. They couldn’t afford to shut their practice down for even one day. So, they decided, “If we can’t go do work there, we have to figure out how to do good work here.”
And Cory said that he didn’t know the name of barely any of the marchers. (Who could?) [He later learned the name of some in a medal ceremony celebrating them.] Â But that the energy of those marchers radiated up to New Jersey and indirectly was responsible for his parents getting a house… which he then attributed to all being how he grew up in a nice life with good schools. He said had it not been for his parents and that lawyer, had he not gotten to live in that nice neighborhood and have all of the privileges that followed, that he potentially wouldn’t be a US Senator today.
He also compared it to how some of the stars we see are actually dead. But because of how long it takes light to travel that far, we are still it so many years later – and that maybe that’s how we as people could work too – that we radiate long after we’re gone.
And I just thought this was such an interesting concept. I feel that almost everyone at one point or another has thought, “How do I want to be remembered?” But I thought it was such a beautiful, mind-opening answer to hear, “I don’t think I will be remembered.”
In yesterday’s post, I talked about how life is incredibly unfair.
I know just yesterday we said a lot is unfair. And I don’t wanna compare Hillary not being President to any other global or national or local atrocities. Just today, it’s the one I wanna focus on.
Hillary Clinton gave her whole life to us. She has been in politics forever. She has fought a giant uphill battle, including having men shout at her before she took her entrance exam for law school, saying she should leave and leave spaces for them. After all, “if she gets in and they don’t, they’ll be drafted.”
Imagine all this pressure, and all these voices, and all of this, when you already have pressure because you’re trying to get into law school!
That was one teeny tiny piece of what she had to deal with. She was pressured to take her husband’s last name for the optics of politics, even though she didn’t want to.
If I think it’s hard to navigate the world as young woman in 2017, imagine what it was like when Hillary was my age. I don’t really want to.
And she pushed and pushed and pushed and persevered. She’s had a nice career. She has broken some glass ceilings, and especially because she was up against Donald Turmp (someone so terrible who has no idea what he’s doing), she should’ve been the next President of the United States.
It seemed like the biggest comeback story of all time after the Obama upset in the primary so many years ago. You know how yesterday I was talking about how I used to think that everything always just kinda worked out in the end? This was one of the things that was supposed to show me that! That she got smarter and stronger in 8 years and she’d win.
It was glorious to see her campaign.
…
And then it was over.
And now she is not the President. And I really can’t see a scenario in which she gets to run again. And it is heartbreaking. It shatters my heart – imagine what it does to hers.
When you look up life not being fair in the dictionary, this is one of the giant glaring examples.
And it hurts so deeply.
But what is she doing? She’s writing a book. She’s hiking. She’s figuring out how to become more re-involved with her charity. (We all thought she’d need to step away from it as President, but alas….) She’s backing a new media (website? outlet? I don’t reaaaaally know what verrit is…) She’s given speeches. She is not quitting. She is not hiding. She’s living her full life and trying to find out if she can’t have her dream, how else can she help?
Because while I definitely get the sense (super, super much so) that she wanted to be President, Â I also get the sense that the giant overarching goal above that is to be a great public servant. And she’s figuring out how.
I thought her 2016 campaign was going to be the ultimate “anything is possible” story – and while I will still always say that anything is possible, and will preeeeeeeetty much believe it in my heart… it might’ve more been the “when something’s impossible, find what is, and make it amazing, and make it yours” story. I dunno.
Anyway, I love Hillary. What a role model. (Looking forward to her book!)
Okay, so I’m not doing the SF full marathon. But I am writing you from the plane on my way to do one of their events. (I’m doing the half.)
The SF Marathon is one of my favorite running events in the world. It is so fantastic. I adore it, and I have a mini-goal to do it as many years in a row as I can.
I had signed up to do it this year. I signed up last year – I’m pretty sure before I’d even decided on Project 882. It’s the SF Marathon. Of course I’m gonna sign up.
Originally, I had had a goal to do the 2nd half, then the following year do the 1st half (those went fine), then the following year do the full (that was last year), and then do the ultra.
Seemed simple enough. I saw a ton of improvement from the year I did the 2nd half to the one I did the 1st. I figured I’d keep improving to when I did the full.
So, last year, I did the full. And as you well know, my life had totally fallen apart. I was depressed. I was struggling. I was certainly not getting out and running and working out. I was pretty darn undertrained. And I *struggled* and it was a *mess*.
And I remember talking in therapy that week (something I’ve talked about here on this blog too) that it just feels like I’m not present, I’m not here, I’m not around.
I talked about how it wasn’t even until I was about halfway through when I heard someone say thank you to a volunteer that I even kind of realized “oh, I’m in the middle of a race. Wow, I have really not been paying attention to a lot of what’s going on around me.”
And I talked about how painful it was to go through the motions of things I knew at one point to be my *favorite* things.
And then I thought, “I need to get back on the horse. I have to just do it again. I love the SF Marathon. I can’t let it become this thing that I’m too afraid to do, because I’m afraid it will never be the same.”
I wanted to sign up for the ultra (as that was in my original 4-year plan), but I knew for me that I didn’t think that kind of training was gonna be able to happen for me this year. I knew that no matter what kind of training year I could conceivably have, that having had *such* an iffy no-good marathon that I wasn’t going to feel confident upgrading. (How can I upgrade to the ultra if I can’t even get the full right, amIrite?)
So, I signed up for the full. Let’s do this again.
And then I started Project882.
And I think it’s good and important and to some degree at least somewhat helpful. But I also think I took on a *lot* on a body that wasn’t necessarily ready for so much (not just physically, but mentally too). And I’m surviving, but I’m not getting faster. I don’t have enough time to recover, *and* I am only *just* getting my personal life together enough to actually properly workout and eat and everything during the week. So, I’m just not ready to tackle the San Francisco full.
And I argued with myself. “That just can’t be true. I can do it, can’t I? Can’t I do it? The SF Marathon is my happy race! The best finish picture I have that I always use is from the SF 1st half. How can I be sliding so far backward?”
But I am/was/hopefully will stop.
[Side note: I also don’t want to be *too* precious with myself, but I only *just* felt freed/healed from everything. I don’t want to have an awful race and feel like nothing is changing – when I *do* feel like things are changing, but they can’t overnight. So, back to what we were talking about…]
I embarrassingly wrote with my head down and metaphorical tail between my legs and asked if I could change to the second half.
And I was told I was past the change deadline. I could go to the expo and ask, and *maybe* they could help me if spots had opened up for the half. But it wasn’t guaranteed, and was a long shot.
Okay, well, I love adventure and I love San Francisco… But I don’t think I can fly out just for a chance – and a small chance at that. I’m already traveling so much for Project882. Something’s gotta give somewhere, or I have to learn how to print money. [I’m sure you know I’m joking, but juuuust in case – I’m not ever actually going to try to print money, friends.] Anyway…
I didn’t want to miss the cancellation deadline. I didn’t want my name ending up the results with an empty time or something. (I didn’t know what they did with people who just never showed… Maybe they don’t list them, but just to be on the same side….) About a month ago – just before the canceling deadline, I sent my email in to cancel my entry.
…But
I never got a confirmation that my entry had been cancelled. I didn’t worry about it all that much. “Maybe they don’t confirm that, they just take you out.” “If I get in the results somehow with a blank time, I’ll just worry about it then.”
And then this weekend started and of course I saw everyone talking about The SF Marathon.
“Uuuuuugh, I can’t believe I’m gonna miss it. I know I have to do what I’m capable of and stuff, but this hurts. I’m gonna have to start over going toward my 5-year swag when I’m already 3 years in. That’ll be gone. (And this would be year 5 if I hadn’t taken 2013 off when I also was afraid I wasn’t fit enough, etc. (which seems kind of silly in hindsight). Also, the 40th anniversary! I’m gonna miss the 40th anniversary and the special medals and all that jazz. Guuuuuuuuuuh”
And then I looked just to see – “I know I tried to cancel my bib out, but do they still have me in there?” [Types in the confirmation page on the website.] Huh. Right now I am listed as a participant… My email must’ve slipped through the cracks, or not gone through or something.
And then I posted to a running group asking if anyone at the expo could check if there was indeed a bib there for me, and if I could change to the half after all.
Thankfully, someone there *was* able to check for me, and they WERE INDEED able to get permission for me to run the 2nd half (what I think is the easier half and definitely the one with the longer time limit).
So, I immediately bought a flight, scurried to JFK, and got on this plane. Of course I wish I were doing the full, but I’m happy to be there at all. And while in a perfect world, I’d be doing the ultra this year; and in this world, I’m doing the half; hopefully I’ll be doing the ultra before you know it – in a year or two or even three, and hopefully then we can forget that all this ugh blugh guh not-goodness in my life happened (maybe not completely forget, but at least be so far away from it that it won’t seem to have mattered so much).
I went into this race pretty excited. Now that I have a chiller job I actually get to sleep, even with all my traveling, so that’s pretty great. (Yay, sleep!)
Also, this is my first race after taking such a turn for the great in therapy.
I’m like, “watch out, world! I’ve got this now!”
The people of the city of Chicago seemed super nice. Even at the expo, I talked to the pace group people, and they had a pacer doing 3:30. I complimented them saying how it’s rare that a pace group will offer 3:30 for a half (as it’s pretty slow), and they were just like, “Oh, we wanna be there for all runners! Are you from here?” And I said no. And they were like, “Too bad, ’cause you could’ve come joined us anytime!”
So, Chicago’s nice. The people are nice. The ambiance is nice. It’s all nice. My life is nicer. I am ready to do this.
Responsibly, I wake up early and warm up my body and voice. I practice the National Anthem a few times. It might be 6am, but my high notes are feeling good!
I get up to the stage and first off, the announcers are so cute. I think they take some stuff from my social media profiles and one of them says, “You might know her from The Nightly Show.” Well, let me tell you, I am almost certain that you do now “know” me from The Nightly Show. Like, maybe if you follow my stuff you’re aware it was totally the best job I’ve ever had (as I literally said that in an instagram caption). But if you were just a fan of the show, you never saw my face, and I’m guessing you didn’t memorize the credits. But what do I know? Maybe you did!
Anyway, I personally found it very adorable that they said you might know me from The Nightly Show.
As you may have seen from some of these posts, I left them empty and am trying to write them from the future.
The main things I remember this time later is that the route was cute. The river was lovely. I went to the bean while in Chicago, and ate delicious Native Foods cafe.
Because I was under such tremendous stress at the time, sometimes I just left these empty posts for me to fill in later. And I have to tell you that sadly, some years later, I do not remember this that well.
However, I still want to kind of memorialize the project, so let’s just try to piece together what we can.
I remember that I was pretty heavily relying on Charlie Alewine races because they have no time limits. They’re just on a walking path in Long Beach, so nothing has to be shut down.
I was really struggling, but just had to get the miles in.
So, there are pictures from nighttime. Some of these half marathons took me all the way into the nighttime.
I also have some pics of just exploring Long Beach, and then one of a full on Bloomin’ Onion. So, I found some place down there that had it, and I guess pigged out as I was very hungry and exhausted.
And that’s all we’ve got for this race. So, here it is (sort of) memorialized on the blog now!
I stayed at this very cute hotel in a random area.
And then I had no idea how to get around the next day. I couldn’t get an uber. I couldn’t find a cab. I was in the middle of nowhere. And I ended up hitchhiking, with someone who barely spoke English.
But they got me to Grotte de Han.
I took a little tour of this cave, and for a while I was just trying to follow along when I couldn’t understand anything. But I asked the guide if he happened to speak English. He did! And he started translating things, so I got to hear more about the cool cave.
I also got to take a little train-type-thing ride around the spacious beautiful outsides where they played this cute little song a lot.
Since I was in Europe, I went around to a couple countries, because why not, right?
So, I took a quick little detour into Luxembourg. And I think of Luxembourg as luxurious. I just kept seeing a bunch of fancy stores – like the fanciest, you know? Louis Vuitton, all that stuff.
And I ate at the fanciest pizza hut I’ve ever seen. The servers were just fancy, and the place had the air of a high falutin restaurant.
While we’re back on the Europe vacation – what an absolutely wild trip this was.
Full disclosure: I did just leave this spot open on my blog for myself to come back to later. So, coming back to it later, I don’t compleeeeetely remember on which leg of the trip I ended up in the Isle of Man, or if my flight got changed to later, or what exactly led to all this happening.
But I do know that somewhere in this Liverpool vacation, I had a layover and I ended up with my flight out of Isle of Man not leaving until the next day.
And it was a rule that you couldn’t spend the night in the airport there. It’s a small airport, and they kick everyone out at night.
So, I had to find a place to stay.
But GET THIS.
Apparently, there is a GIANT motorcycle race every year in the Isle of Man – just this absolutely huge deal motorcycle race. And I just so happened to be flying through on giant motorcycle race weekend.
So there was not one hotel room available. NOT ONE.
So, then I’m like frantically looking for an Air BnB, and there is ONE available. One.
I grab it as quickly as possible and make it there.
Turns out, one of the owners of the Air BnB is also a tour guide! He takes me around the whole entire island – including this special place where I guess two tectonic plates meet. And the woman of the house let me borrow her clothes while she did my laundry!
They were so hospitable. It was so fun. It was so relaxed. The place feels very community-oriented, since it’s just a little island.
And those are the main beats I remember. What a hoot!
So, I’d wandered around by Canal Street, which is apparently the famous gay area of Manchester.
And my new friend from the street welcomed me  on in, and I got to meet his friends, and have these fun random conversations – one of which revolved around the question, “If you had to choose to live without music or color, which would you pick?”
I said I’d live without color because music is the soundtrack to our lives.
Imagine your favorite shows or movies without music. Every time it sets the scene, builds the tension, amplifies the happiness, etc. – that’s all gone. Musical theater, and all your favorite popstars don’t exist without music. Did you grow up as a screaming fan for Michael Jackson? Have a good memory of an amazing concert you saw? Do you love the cast recording for Avenue Q? That’s all gone now.
You’re now exercising without music for the rest of your life (and some studies even show people actually run a little faster when they listen to fast music). Every band you hear at a marathon, gone. Every song you put on in your iPhone to get you through a tough workout? See ya.
Even when you do CPR, they teach you to do your compressions to the beat of “Staying Alive.” So, have fun just feeling things out without beats guiding your way.
Your big life moments that seemed marked by songs of the time? …You don’t get that nostalgia when you hear that special song. So, if you had a song that helped you deal with a death or a breakup or even good things – that helped you celebrate a promotion or whatever… they no longer exist.
Your favorite middle or high school dances (or even dancing at galas when you’re an adult) – they no longer happen… or they happen in some weird silent way. I know I maybe take color for granted. And it is certainly used for some important things, I can’t imagine a world without music…
Then again, how would I feel if everything were grey? The person who made the case that he couldn’t live without color thought that basically happiness would be gone. He’s like, “Can you imagine basking in the sun without seeing the yellow? What about sunset or sunrise? What about the way stars sparkle in the sky? What about looking deep into the eyes of the person you love? You no longer see that brown or blue or green or whatever color they have. What about food? What about all the things you use color for?”
While I generally agreed that it would be very odd to be at the beach with no color, I kind of made the argument that technically it’s vitamin D that is supposed to be giving us good feelings from the sun. But he rightly made the argument that, “Have you ever experienced vitamin D from the sun without any color? How could you know what that’s like?” (And I don’t, of course.)
Also, colors generally give us information. We can have clear street signs without them. We can know the bottom light means go and the top means stop. We can know the octagon means stop… And we can still read and have different shades of grey. But still. Colors can be helpful.
And just as there are studies that music helps with certain things (and music therapist is even a job), there are also studies that colors make people feel certain things.
It seems they both would be tough worlds to live in. But obviously there are people who live in those worlds every day because they’re blind, or even colorblind, or because they’re deaf. And you can obviously thrive as a blind or deaf person. So, they’d all be handle-able. But if they whole world changed to be without color or be without music, things would change. Jobs wouldn’t exist. Places wouldn’t exist. (Would we need music stores? My college wouldn’t even exist… Dance studios? Do we dance with no music? Maybe we do. I don’t know.)
Anyway, it was an interesting question and I enjoyed my night talking with the guys. (And I’d love your thoughts on music v. color in the comments, if you’d like to give ’em!)
AaagagaggagaghGuh! (Hopefully you heard that as the excited scream it is.)
I went to my first Red Sox game (as the title states)!
I lived in Boston for a while (as you may know) while I went to school there, and I always thought/talked about going to a game, but I never did.
But now, for my birthday (and going off of the super amazing amazingness that is Pitch and my new mini-obsession with baseball related things), I went to a game!
First things first, I passed this info table. I stopped by and they gave me a first game pin! (They even put the date on the back, which is pretty cool of them!) And they gave me a happy birthday pin. (The woman there was so very nice.) Then I went off to a merchandise stand where I bought a hat and shirt, and the man said I was officially in Red Sox Nation now!
I headed to the bathroom and put on my new shirt, and it is the comfiest thing ever! I’m falling in love with the Red Sox a little more every moment.
Then I went to my seat and the person next to me struck up a conversation with me. He was so nice and he and his son knew all about baseball, and had multiple facts to add to my experience.
Then, this older man in front of us overheard about how it was my first time and everything and he was so excited. He loves the Res Sox. He told me he started going to games in 1946!
He was also there with his son (I think – it seemed, at least). And the guys behind me were also father/son.
I wonder if I just happened to be around dads/son, or if that’s a big dynamic throughout the ballpark.
Anyway, it was just so fun. We WON! There were a whole bunch of great plays. And we got to see a rookie have his first hit! (So, we got to see his batting average as 1.000…. it went lower by the end of the game, but it was cool go a hot second!)
I also loved that we got to sing Sweet Caroline.
(Speaking of singing, during “take me out to the ballgame,” I started singing “root root root for the home team,” but you’re supposed to say “Red Sox,” not “home team,” which seems really obvious, but there you have it – learning experience from my first game. (I’m getting it. I’ll get there!)
In conclusion, I don’t know why I never thought of a baseball game as a fun thing to do on a night off. (Maybe ’cause when I lived in Boston, I basically never had a night off – but I did when I was having surgery all the time! I lived within *walking distance* of Fenway park. Such a simple ballpark to get to, and I just didn’t. Crazy.
But, now I have. It was an amazing experience. And happy birthday to me!
Aaaagh! Another post from the future. I’d left this spot open to fill in later. And I am not filling this in years later.
So, let’s just try to guess the specifics from the pics I had.
So, I have this pic of all of us walking alongside buses. I think there was probably crazy traffic or a road block or something.
Oh and then I have this pic of SafeCo Field, which I think(?) if I remember right was where the “VIP” stuff was, which I got for singing the National Anthem at the 5k – extra food and all that jazz.
And those are basically the only pics I could find.
I like Seattle and I like Rock ‘n’ Roll events, so I’m sure I loved it!
If you were there and have anything to add, please let me know in the comments. Otherwise, sorry this is devoid of details, but at least I’ve finally memorialized it (sort of) in the blog!
Hey from me from the future. I left this blog post open to fill it in. And now I don’t super remember the race. (Eep!)
I sang the national anthem, and we ended close to a flight museum that I walked all around.
It was a simple, fun day. Another 3.1 in the books! Sorry I have no memory of anything more specific than that, but here I am memorializing the race in the record blog.
(Hey everybody. I’m on a long flight right now. So I’m doing my best to catch up on some races. I know not everything is in order, and I’m sorry about that. I’m just cranking out what I can while I’m in the air.)
After doing a full marathon the week before this in San Diego, I was still a little beat, and wasn’t 100% sure if I wanted to go for the full, or if I’d just drop down to the 5k again (as I have in my other Divas races).
But obviously I need the mileage. 882 miles is a lot, and I gotta keep working toward getting there!
Also, I did go all the way to Tornoto, after all. And my friend Ryan is getting up oh so early to drive me there. Like, I should probably make it feel more worth it to everybody by doing 13.1 instead of 3.1.
I was slightly afraid yet again of the time limit and making sure I out-ran (or at least out-walked) the shuttle. But I’m going for it. Here we go.
Ryan was so great. He’s a friend I know aaaall the way back from the 1st game show I was ever on (1 vs 100). He picked me up from the airport. (He even came inside! What am I? A big time celebrity or something? Dang.)
Then I got to stay in his guest room. And he drove me to race morning! He was so cool and funny and excited. He was taking pictures and seemed to really enjoy it! I loved hanging out with someone who seemed to view it all as an adventure instead of a chore ??
The race was so very hot. That was one of the main takeaways about this one – the sun.
But the actual real *main* takeaway is the niceness of the people. People are not kidding when they make all those jokes about super nice Canadians.
Even the shuttle people, I was so afraid when they caught up and started following me somewhere around mile 10. (Dum dum duuuuuuum [scary chords]) But they were soooo nice! I kept looking behind me like a murderer was coming up behind me.
And they were just like, “You’re doing great! You got this!”
And I was the last person to pass the tiara station, and they seemed *just* as excited to dress me in a tiara and boa as they probably were for anybody hours earlier.
Aaaaand! At the very end, there was a woman selling divas hanging bars for your medals. And she gave me a free one, ’cause she wanted to give one to the last place person to finish. My goodness gracious!
And, even after so many hours (like 4), Ryan was waiting for me at the finish and cheering so much! It was great!
Just every person was exceptionally nice. I loved it in Toronto!
And after the race, Ryan took me to Fresh – a declisouly amazing vegan restaurant. AND THEY HAD VEGAN POUTINE.
Poutine was never a staple of my diet (and obviously shouldn’t be, as it’s totally unhealthy). But I loooved it when I tried it in New Orleans and was a bit bummed that it was something I wouldn’t be able to have as a vegetarian hoping to maybe someday be a vegan. But I CAN have it in Toronto. What’s up, world?
Oh and one last thing about Toronto – when I looked sad about not getting a passport stamp since it’s just Canada, they were just like, “we got you.” And gave me one!
…And when I got back to NY, there was a dude being suuuuper rude and impatient in the aisle and he bullied his way in front of this other guy just to get like 5 feet further than before (as there was still a big line to get off the plane). And that behavior was especially jarring since I’d just come from potentially the nicest place on earth. And when I saw the stereotype incarnate of the [heavy accent] “hey I’m walkin’ here!” New York caricature, alas, I knew I was home. [Deep sigh]
Anyway, let’s not end on a sour note though. Canadian, niceness, poutine, eh? ??
(The end of this gif is “How dare you? … Tell us things we already know! … We didn’t pay to drink for this!”
Ooooooh goodness gracious. I’ve been craving working on a political show again!
And I’m getting it!
The other night on Rachel Maddow, she said, ‘I’m not that kind of doctor, but I’m giving a doctor’s excuse to all of you to stay home tomorrow to watch the James Comey testimony.’
Yeah… At a lot of places, watching the Comey testimony would’ve been a distraction from your work… But here… This was my work!
When I walked into work, it was on in every person’s office. (And I turned it on in mine.) And mid-hearing a producer walked on with the first montage I got to build!
It was a crazy day with montages built and montages cut. But I was just so happy instead of grabbing a little politics while I worked – to have it be all intertwined up together.
I won’t just be doing “Days at The Daily Show” posts forever. But I’m doin’ ’em right now!
It is truly amazing to feel just so right at home at the Avid… When I worked on The Nightly Show, I thought I was plenty competent, and ultimately things always worked out. But sometimes I got a little flustered here and there – trying to remember all the little things you have to do before you turn in a roll – but having to do it at the last minute as we’re adding stuff so quickly…
And sometimes being asked questions that it felt like it took me a little too long to figure out.
I was good enough to do the job, but with any job there’s a learning curve and I was in it.
But now, I know what I’m doing!
Even though every single person at The Nightly Show treated me with oh so much respect (and like an editor after I became one), it never changed the fact that I still just was the baby editor. That’s who I was. I was the newest editor still learning. And people were patient and kind and lovely. But it feels a lot nicer to be “the girl who’s done this before.” “Oh, she cut headlines at The Nightly Show.”
It feels good to feel in control at the computer – like I can do whatever it is people need me to do. I can keep up with the pace okay. It’s more like second nature now.
Okay, I didn’t know if I was gonna talk about The Daily Show in real-time here on the blog, but I just wanted to share a story today that tickled me a little.
I’m still meeting people on staff. (It’s a big staff, and I’ve been here exactly one day. So, of course I have a bunch more people to meet.) And in the lunch line, I asked someone for his name and he told me. Then after he asked for my name and I said, “Aurora,” he said, “Are you an intern here?” (The summer interns also recently started.)
And I said, “Oh, I’m an editor.” And he was said, “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! You just look so young! I figured you had to be an intern.”
*gaaaaaaah!* 16-year-old me totally and utterly freaks out. So pumped.
I was on a train in Europe on my way to the Brussels airport when I got an email out of nowhere that The Daily Show was looking for someone to fill in for a few weeks and they were talking to my old boss at The Nightly Show, and she recommended me! (*screams internally, externally, screams everywhere*)
I responded immediately, and before I was back on US soil, I’d booked the gig!
I’m sure there will be more to say at some point. For now, though, I’ll just say I’m so into working here! Everybody’s nice (of course). My office is really lovely.
Jordan Klepper is 4,000 feet tall. Like, I never realized watching the show… Is he in the shot alone a lot? Or is everyone always on apple boxes? Or am I just wildly, wildly short? Like, I don’t even know if we could fit in the same photo frame together. (And I didn’t try, as I’m not gonna nerd out like quite *that* much on my very first day here.)
It’s crazy how sometimes dreams just fall from the sky (or through your email while you’re in Europe).
Potentially more on this later. But for now, yay!!!
At the end, I passed the massage tables to go get my heavy medal and marathoner jacket.
This was dumb.
I didn’t even think to ask what the deal with massages was. (They were free and closing soon!)
I was lucky enough to have a VIP wristband from RnR for singing at the 5k, and there are always massages in the VIP area. And there a number of different groups post-RnR races – different charities and things that offer various things (like massages or special tents), so I thought these massages were for somebody else.
I went and got my heavy medal (the gold record as big as my face for doing 10 in a year). They don’t give those to you at European races (something with customs or shipping or whatever?). So, that’s why I got it here instead of Liverpool, for anyone counting along at home and wondering.
Anyway, the medal was so heavy! They are not even kidding when they say “heavy medals.” I put it around my neck and was like “nope!”
Then the VIP tent was closed (of course – what did I expect when I was practically last place?). So, I headed back to the massages just to see what the deal was. But then they were closed! Aye aye aye. Medals could be sent or picked up in the future, but my body was hurting and I’d passed my chance at a massage. Oh well.
I still had a little bit of touristy-time before the airport. It was too late to do a full-on San Diego thing (like the zoo or Sea World or what have you). So I racked my brain. I’ve been here multiple times and I have kind of a running list of things I didn’t hit before. One of which was Richard Walker’s pancake house. I keep hearing about how famous it is, and I’ve never been!
BUT, they were closed! [*cries 1,000 tears into my non-existent pancakes*]
So I made a quick stop by Balboa Park to give kind of an ambiance feeling of San Diego for a few medal pics.
And then it was off to the airport. [I thought I’d stay a few days and check some more things off the list… but alas, I had to go get on a plane and head back earlier than planned, because… I was starting work at The Daily Show!!!
I was very (very) slow. (Shocking, right?) But I made it.
There was this weird kind of – I don’t know how to describe it, exactly, but like a visceral remembering (remembrance?) of last year.
For basically my first hiatus after being assaulted, I came to SF.
And I was *not* doing well. The suffering was in full force. I was not only mentally having a hard time getting out of bed, I also was physically really sick with a fever and on antibiotics and everything.
And I just remembered feeling so crappy in every way during the race last year. And things have changed, but not enough.
The previous year, I cried basically during the whole race. This year, I didn’t cry even nearly as much, but goodness, I cried!
I am so unbelievably sick and tired of not being able to be alone with my thoughts in a way that isn’t harmful or devastating or just – I don’t know exactly what words to use, but awful.
And yes, technically this year, I was able to do double the distance. But it was really slow and mildly painful!
I’m doing better, but I’m not doing great. I’m more functional, but I’m not “Aurora.” I’m not wildly happy. And I’m so sick of suffering through at such very slow speeds.
But anyway, I made it.
I pretty much kinda narrowly escaped the shuttle.
A giant part of the race was on a major highway, so had the shuttle caught me, I would not have had an easy time trying to be stubborn and move to the sidewalk – ’cause there as none.
Thankfully, I never even saw it on the highway. I did see it driving behind us back-of-the packers at the very end. Thankfully, by that point, I was home free!
And this is where I’ll pick up… after we talk about some kind of exciting things this upcoming week!
I stayed in Europe until practically the last minute. I was at a layover in Moscow at some crazy time of morning just the morning before the 5k. I flew into LA – pretty much for the main reason that I wanted an LAX passport stamp. If I had JFK, I had to get LAX (or not, because that didn’t happen [which is the story for another post]). I mean, I also wanted to stop at home and check my mail and maybe see a friend or two and just be at home for a hot second… But I totally could’ve just flown into San Diego – especially because I thought I’d be in LA for the next week… Granted, that didn’t happen, because on the way to the Brussels airport, I got an email asking if I wanted to work for The Daily Show, and we finalized everything while I was in Moscow, which was amazing.
So, maybe it’s better I got to fly into LA, since I didn’t get to go back after San Diego. Anyway, none of this really matters.
I got into San Diego not long before the race started – enough time to check into my hotel and shower and basically that was it.
I headed on down to the 5k. I was a little worried about singing the national anthem since my body had no real idea where I was or what time it was. I’d warmed up a bit in my hotel room and practiced by myself once I got to the race. I was like “I feel iffy, but I’m sure this will be fine. Jet lag isn’t a real excuse for anything!”
But alas, I think I was slightly thwarted from jet lag. I like to believe in my head that I’m some amazing performer who can always pull something out, but I don’t think that’s the actual real, real-life truth…. because I cracked a little on the top note, aaand it was even in a low key. I started too low and sounded kinda breathy on the low notes, ’cause they were too low for me. It just felt like a mess!
And I didn’t even get to get another shot right away, as I wasn’t the person singing the following day. So, I had to wait a couple of weeks for a chance to redeem myself. (We’ll see how that goes soon enough at Rock ‘n’ Roll Seattle.
Anyway, I did the 5k, then went to the expo and got my stuff for the next day.
I hung out for a bit. I knew I wanted to go to bed early, but did I want to go to bed 11-am-early? I didn’t want to get up around 1am and have hours of nothing. I wanted my best shot to get on at least a kiiiiiinda normal-ish sleep schedule.
So, I hung out at the expo for a hot second.
[Side note: I don’t aaaalways wanna be talking about how things relate to assault and my recovery, but I remember feeling so overwhelmed by the expo in Dallas, and here I felt fine and free. So, maybe it’s a sign I am getting better? Or at least was better on that day, who knows. I felt like the normal Aurora who loves crowds, not the new weird Aurora I don’t like who’s scared of people. So, yay.]
Then it was off to bed, super early – like, super early haha. I slept for something like 14 hours and weirdly it still didn’t feel like quite enough. But off we go to RnR San Diego Marathon, which I’ll talk about tomorrow!
Next up on the sightseeing tour, I headed to The People’s History Museum. And it was AMAZING – so inspiring.
It had all this very accepting stuff. There were displays for equality for the LGBT community and for women, and basically you could just see these fights and resulting progress of various marginalized groups and I was ready to march out of there and go join a resistance!
(Well, join it harder. Obviously, we’ve all been in the resistance since Donald Trump was inaugurated.)
Speaking of Donald Trump, it was kind of funny how often people heard that I was American and then asked me some version of, “How could you let Donald Trump be your President?!”
(I don’t know. It will forever be bewildering. But in conclusion, Europe is against him too.)
I wanted to stay at the People’s History Museum all day, but alas, I wanted to run over to the Museum of Science and Industry before it closed.
…And then it turned out to be 100* buildings large.
*5. I believe it was five.
One of them was closed, as there were still a few things in Manchester closed due to the bombing. (But not much! That city was like, “We ain’t sitting down! Come to our museums and fun things!” …A huge soccer game even happened just 2 days after the bombing (a cab driver told me).)
After all the museums and things were closed, I went over to this big open area where people were watching the Manchester Great City Games. There were these sports just in the streets! They’d shut down streets and laid out tracks and things, and I thought that was such an interesting way to show off some elite sports. So, I hung out with the crowd (and had some of the best nachos I’ve ever had at a place called “Home Sweet Home”).
Then I swung by an outdoor phone booth, because, you know… England, and grabbed a compulsory tourist photo. (I was gonna stay “mandatory,” but I’m using some of my new proper English vocabulary!)
And then I headed to this bar that had opened high up on a hotel. People were touting it as “the skyscraper of Manchester.” I think it had been hyped a bit too much for me. I spent about all of 2 minutes there. The skyline didn’t look, I guess, specific(?) to me…. I don’t know if I don’t recognize the city well enough, or if they don’t have enough tall buildings to make a super recognizable skyline. But instead of feeling like I was getting this amazing view, I just kinda felt like I was in a sort of high up bar. So, okay. Can’t win ’em all, then!
Then, I walked around until it was time to play this crazy interactive game that’s definitely getting its own post in a bit. First, I gotta write about some races! Until next time!
So, when I was walking around on the way to Rush (the night before my big sightseeing day), this nice older man saw that I was kind of looking confused around at street signs. So, he struck up a conversation with me. And he told me while in Manchester, the thing I *had* to do was go to John Rylands library.
If someone on the street is that excited to share something in their city, I’m gonna go.
So, Â the next day (when the library was open), I went. He told me it would be like Harry Potter. I’ve never seen Harry Potter, but I can say that library was magical!
I went into this reading room, and thought that was magical enough – but then there are just more and more floors and rooms. It like this adventure that feels like it’s never gonna end!
I will say, I didn’t give myself a *ton* of time for sightseeing… I had a hard time deciding what my deal with sleep was during this trip. Even though I like to imagine I’m super cool and impervious to jetlag, that didn’t necessarily seem to be the case this time around. So, first, I tried to get to sleep around 1am when I got back. But I couldn’t sleep.
So, by the time we reached 3:30 or so, I just tried to just stay up aaaaall night and into the day after my fun first night out.. Then I was just gonna try to stay awake during the day and then crash that night.
But that’s not at all how it went. As I got into the wee, wee hours of 8am or so, I couldn’t keep it together and I totally fell asleep. So, when I woke up in the early afternoon, I had to run around to fit everything in before businesses/museums and things closed around 5pm.
I went to the visitor center for the low down and the guy gave me a list – and that list, I followed. I went to this kinda secret (not that secret) library above a bank called the Portico Library. It was small and beautiful, and had a gigantic clock on one wall with a gigantic wind dial thing on the other. The librarian wasn’t sure why there was a wind dial on the other one except for that the library people were trying to keep up with the Jones’ libraries back in the day, and apparently it was pretty posh to know which way the wind was blowing.
Then I headed on over to Town Hall. Someone was getting married there, which I thought was interesting because I don’t know exactly how their politics mirror ours, but I haven’t seen anybody get married (like hardcore wedding married, married – like wedding party, kids everywhere, a bunch of guests, the whole she-bang) at City Hall.
I mean, then again, how often am I hanging out at City Hall? Not often. But anyway, it sounded like people like have full weddings at Town Hall over there, with the place reserved for them (or at least that was the vibe I got).
So, yeah, I saw basically the front hall kind of area of Town Hall and a bunch of dressed up kids kids who were being kept out of the ceremony running around (with adult supervision).
Agh! These posts go by so quickly. I still have more sightseeing to cover! But as this post is getting a bit long, I’ll just pick up here tomorrow!
That was pretty much the deal in Liverpool. There also was a Titanic thing.
Gaaaaaah, I’m sorry ’cause I know this has been try of a bunch of posts around this time, but I left blank posts for myself to come back to later, when I was in a better headspace and more able to write… but by this time, I’ve forgotten a lot of what I did, but I do know I went to a museum about the Beatles. I went around the town and found out about the Beatles.
At some point, I stopped off at this place to grab a little food, and I saw this man outside just decked out in Donald Trump gear. Oh no. Where am I, and how was I transported here?
Thankfully, he was merely part of a stag party and was wearing it for a laugh. Phew! (Why would I imagine for even one second that anyone in England would actually like Trump?)
I went inside and asked how long food took, and it was gonna take 25 minutes, so I was leaving to go back on the course when the guys said, “no no no. Stay with us!” So I did. I ordered some food and took a beak hanging out with this stag party.
The food was exceptional. The company was hilarious. And soon enough, I was on my way.
They pointed me in the correct direction, and then I reached this area that kind of had this out and back loop-y stuff of the half marathon. And I wanted to make sure I didn’t go miles out of my way.
So, I asked a spectator nearby if she could tell me which way was which on the map. And then, because it became confusing as to why I’d wanna know that if I was some random person, I just blurted out that I was trying to find a friend in the race.
She was being so helpful like, “oh, I have the tracker app! What’s your friend’s bib number!”
“I uh… I don’t know.”
“That’s okay. What’s their name?”
“I’m sorry, could you just tell me which way is the right way to be on the path to the finish?”
“Well, let’s just see where your friend is! Maybe they haven’t passed this point yet.”
And this is why you don’t lie, kids!
You find yourself in a very uncomfortable weird semi-non-argument with a person trying to be so nice.
And I totally, by this point, didn’t think I could say I was in the half.
Eventually her and her friends just told me the path that led to the finish (not the turnaround), and I’m sure they thought I was SO weird (and they so have every right to).
And I kept moving forward.
When I was coming in at the end, I felt bad because the crowd was *electric,* and I just wanted to be like, “you probably shouldn’t be cheering this enthusiastically for me when I run by you, as I have walked until this point and I’m only doing 13.1.”
I’m sure all the marathoners loved it! Go them! That energy was dope.
And then, that was it. Half marathon complete.
I had one more day in Liverpool, and I’ll talk about that soon!
I didn’t realize until someone told me race morning… you know how in America, running etiquette is that when you walk you do it to the right? Well, in England, you go to the left (of course – but that hadn’t even dawned on me).
Although, running anything after the first few corrals seems to be a little loosey-goosey in England. When I asked what side I should walk on, everyone was very much like, “it doesn’t matter.” People didn’t seem too concerned about time or anything. It was suuuuuuuper laid back – definitely a change from how it had been in Spain (my only other European race experience).
I walked the whole thing. I was just kind of exhausted. I know jet lag isn’t a great excuse and people can argue it’s not a real thing, but I was just tired! I’d been burning the candle at all ends with the running project and work and therapy and everything. So, I just walked.
The time limit of the full marathon was 6 hours, and they started an hour after us, so technically we had plenty of time – especially because our course was basically the last half of the full course. So… I wasn’t terribly worried about time – except.
It did state that there would be a van for both the half and full marathon. And I just thought “how?!” The course overlap so much how will you tell and why will you?
Thankfully I had my full marathon bib, due to the happy accident of signing up for the wrong thing at the beginning of the season. So, at least if someone had to look (if I had to pull up my layers), maybe they wouldn’t question me.
I was so scared of a shuttle (that never came), that I went to the sidewalk and tried to just look like a pedestrian walking along.
(I later learned that a human being acted as the “shuttle,” and walked along with the last person at the pace they set. So, it all would’ve been fine even if I hadn’t been hiding sort of in plain sight.)
I did go onto the road to make sure I hit all the splits, and yet none of them showed up in my results! I’m guessing it’s because my bib didn’t change from marathon to half in the system quickly enough, so it wasn’t equipped to do that. But that was kind of a bummer.
I still hadn’t figured out my deal with sleep. And I still hadn’t even made it to Liverpool.
(Kind of everything was done at the last minute with this trip. My Liverpool hotel was literally booked while on the train from Manchester.)
Was I gonna stay in Manchester and go in the morning, or go to Liverpool the night before? Ultimately, I just stayed in Manchester and went in the morning. I checked into my hotel, and even had time to grab a little breakfast there before heading over across the street to get my bib.
There seemed to be pretty big increased security (because of the bombing in Northern England earlier that week).
So it took a while to get everyone into the expo, but I think everyone got in… and there was a second start of the 5k, I think half an hour later. So even if people didn’t get in quite in time, they could still do the race.
After bib pickup, I headed to the start. There was a moment of silence for the bombing victims and in this crowd of sooo many people, you could hear [what’s a more original way to say you could hear a pin drop? ‘Cause that’s what you could hear.]
As far as the race itself, I don’t have a lot to write home about. I just finished without falling asleep, so I call it a win.
You got to end running into a stadium which was pretty fun!
Before the race, you could only pick up your 5k bib, and you had to go back afterward for your marathon or half bib. So, after the race, I did that.
I had accidentally signed up for the full marathon, and thankfully they let me go down to the half. (I’ve heard there can be way more issues with this in the international races, but it was all cool.)
However, they let me keep the full bib, which came in handy the next day… but… I’ll talk about that tomorrow!
The funniest/cutest thing I saw here was a hen party (that’s what they call a bachelorette party in jolly ol’ England). The group was all dressed up and they pushed a cart (like a baby stroller) that was full of alcohol they could drink throughout the course ?
And they would stop and dance to the bands. It was very cute.
(I’m sorry. I know I’m wildly behind. I think I can finally catch up! So, I’m gonna keep writing this last trip sorta like it’s real-time. So, go with me like it’s the past by 2 or so weeks. xoxoxo)
At Rush, the people were quite nice, and we talked about life in Manchester and such. I asked if there was anything to do that time of night (I think it was coming around 9), and they said the only thing they knew about was Junkyard MiniGolf.
I walked around for a bit. I found an escape room that had the last game at 9:30pm. But alas, you couldn’t do it alone and there were no strangers around to ask if they’d play. So, I kept walking. I met some police officers who told me more about life in Manchester (ways the police force has been changing, life in a place with exceptionally strict gun control, and all that). They weren’t even from Manchester, but police were being brought in from all surrounding cities to give an extra presence after the bombing.
As I walked around, I saw a number of spots with flowers and cards. Of course it was pretty emotional. It was an exceptionally sad attack, but really moving how the city was coming together.
One thing that was slightly weird, and I feel weird pulling back the curtain on this probably very mild secret… I saw people shooting “sad broll” outside of the arena… Like, I saw a camera crew giving a count-in and taping a pre-determined thing of someone walking by looking sad and wistful around the arena… I didn’t realize they manufacture sad b-roll. I mean, of course it makes sense… And it’s much nicer than taping unsuspecting mourners. And maybe it doesn’t happen all the time. Or maybe they were doing that for something else, not just bombing broll. But it was just a slightly odd thing to witness.
I did eventually make it to Junkyard MiniGolf. It was this indoor place that was felt themed all rough and tumble or what have you – kind of like what I imagine a biker bar would be like in a movie… Kind of like the almost Disnified version of tough (like, not actually Disney themed, but like a fake scariness almost). Anyway, I don’t know if I’m making any sense at all, but the point is that it wasn’t really my scene and I wasn’t in the mood to do a round of mini golf alone in this super loud place. (Sometimes I jokingly say “my baby ears!” ’cause I’m not always great when music is suuuuper loud… I don’t care if you call me an old lady for that. We only get one set of ears!) So, I took my baby ears and moved along.
Then I was just walking around aimlessly with no plan, and that’s when I met this man on the street who was a liiiittle drunk and walking around saying out loud (to nobody? to everybody?) how hot it was. It was warm indeed, but didn’t seem exceptionally hot. So, I asked, “is it not always this hot?” He erupted in laughter and started taking me around to different people, asking if it was always that hot. Then everyone started laughing, and started exaggerating how, “Why, it hasn’t been this hot since 1973!” So, I got the lesson in how it is always rainy and never hot.
Then, this guy and I started talking about his love for American politics and Hillary Clinton. (So, obviously he’s my new best friend.) And then I ended up going to this gay club with him and meeting even more cool people. And this is where I’ll pick up next time!
I’m doing the Liverpool Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon this weekend, and I’ve always planned to fly into Manchester (’cause it’s cheaper). Then obviously there was the bombing on Monday, but I didn’t see any reason not to continue with my plan to land there Thursday (meaning earlier today). And I wondered how to talk about Manchester, because it feels like maybe I should talk with a tone of sadness, but really people here are so resilient and lovely and determined to live their lives with joy. All the news coverage might be sad, but the feeling in the city is this kind of joyful defiance.
There are of course still more somber moment though. There was a moment of silence at the airport. Apparently someone didn’t hear the announcement in the area where I was, because there ended up being a moment of silence except for one now super loud conversation. Imagine being in an airport and just every single person stops talking, people stop bustling about and whatever your conversation was is all that’s heard.
In my head, it would feel very disorienting, but that person didn’t even notice.
Anyway, moving on, I’d had a mad rush to leave New York. I was trying to accomplish a whole bunch of stuff before I left. Thankfully, I pretty much got it all done, but goodness was it a race to the airport and the plane. So, when I got to the airport, I took a second to catch my breath, arrange my stuff inside my luggage a little better, grab some pounds (since I didn’t have time to get them at JFK), and also book a hotel. (Yep, hadn’t gotten around to that part either…Yeah… Not the super best well-prepared.)
So, I got a hotel and made my way there.
The taxi driver was really nice and let me sit in the front seat… I asked if I could so I could enjoy the view of this backwards driving set-u from what I’m used to. (After all, I’d never say in the front left side and not been driving before.)
It’s funny, because I knew intellectually that in England they drive on the other side of the road. But it is surreal actually experiencing it. There are times when you do a turn or something that feels crazy and wrong and for a split second it feels like you’re gonna get in an accident because you think a car’s about to come from a way that it’s not going to.
I thought I did a really good job of not showing any of those silly moments, but he tells me he gets Americans all the time very thrown by it. (So, at least I wasn’t alone – even if we imagine that perhaps I wasn’t as cool as I thought.)
The hotel was cool. (The signs to the elevators said they were the signs to the Lifts!)
Of course I wanted to sight-see immediately, but I was also preeeeeetty tired. So, I figured I’d just take a little nap – and then I totally woke up in the early evening.
After that, I went and got my hair done at this awesome hair salon called Rush. [Edited to add: My sleek, healthy looking hair lasted for many days after that, like the longest a lil’ upkeep do has lasted for me. Amazing. Highly recommend Rush.]
(Most touristy things were closed and after my week of a bunch of miles a day/fitting everything around that in, my hair was just a wild mess. So, I needed help getting through it and thought, “Why not feel super refreshed at the top of this trip?”)
So, more like 6 days at the fair. But, it was originally called 3 Days At The Fair. So, that’s what it’s still called.
But now they have a 6-day option. And I went with it.
I didn’t bring any equipment for camping. I figured I’d stay in a nearby hotel. “Nearby” ended up to not super exist, and it was like next to impossible to get an uber (or a cab) in this middle of nowhere place in New Jersey. So, sometimes I slept in a hotel. Sometimes I slept on the ground. At least one night, I slept in the extra tent of someone who very sweetly offered.
I went back to Manhattan twice for various meetings and things I needed to go to. So, I didn’t stay on the fairgrounds the whole time, as many did. But you could come and go as you please. The place was open for 144 hours, and you were on the course as much as you wanted to be.
I basically wanted to get my belt buckle (which means at least 100 miles), plus I wanted to get at least 100 more miles for Project 882. So, I needed to get in just under 17 miles per day. Sometimes this felt harder than others. I mainly walked at night when it wasn’t crowded or hot. (Though sometimes, it was downright cold!)
I sometimes walked during the day with everybody else.
They had a snack station that would make you all the grilled cheeses you wanted. And I had way too much to eat! Some other people were putting in 50 or more miles a day. So, they needed fuel. And here I was, doing roughly 17, give or take, just being like, “oh, grilled cheese. Cool!”
The people were incredibly nice. And everybody had interesting stories. I loved passing the tent of the father and son who’ve been doing at least a mile a day for decades, and decided to do this race together.
I caught up on a lot of TV and podcasts, walking around the fairgrounds in the middle of the night. If you haven’t listened to Black on the Air, I’d recommend giving it a shot. Larry Wilmore is awesome and is always such an incredible champion of women.
I also listened to a bunch of the Pod Save guys’ stuff.
One night there was fireworks. That was nice.
Basically, it was a really fun time with wonderful people. And we’ve got another 100 miles down!
Did you know there’s a “Myrtle Beach” and a “North Myrtle Beach?” …And they’re not exactly super close to each other? I know that now, but I didn’t know that before…
I thought i was soooooo cool, staying just down the street. But in the morning, I went to what I thought the race start was. And nothing was set up. No one was there. So, I started googling stuff, and also walked into the nearest hotel lobby to ask some questions of the person at the front desk. Once I’d gotten the mix-up figured out, I walked outside and there was a group of women all starting to congeal together looking for the start. I quickly told everyone we weren’t in “North Myrtle Beach.” People started piling into cars. I grabbed an uber with a small group of women, and we all went there as fast as we could.
The race had started. We missed the start. But I was still able to get my packet. I knew I wouldn’t be able to catch up to the half marathon, so I walked the 5k to the best of my ability. (I’m not positive I did the exact course, as it was being taken down, but I followed what I pretty much thought it was, and did over 3.1 miles. I got the tiara and medal and everything. But, because we started late, they wouldn’t give official finisher times.
Another thing I didn’t realize is that there’s a whole “tourist season” down in Myrtle Beach and a number of fun-seeming attractions weren’t open. I was just a couple of weeks, shy it seemed.
So, be careful about what time of year you plan your trip to Myrtle Beach. And also, know the difference between run-of-the-mill Myrtle Beach and North Myrtle Beach…
(Hey there! I have to catch up on all these old race reports. I’m so sorry. Don’t mind me. Doop do doop do do do.)
So, after Rock ‘n’ Roll Nashville, a friend drove me up to Chicago. (She was also doing both races.)
I ended up staying up most of the night. As per usual, I’m not really 100% sure what kind of weird sleeping schedule I’m on. So, I was up a lot. I was tired from Nashville. It was raining. And I dropped down to the 5k. But I did meet some amazing women during the 5k who walked with me. So, that was a fun joy.
I also got an extra poncho from someone who had an extra one, which was really kind of them (and a total lifesaver)!
I really don’t think I have much more to say about this race. But I guess brevity is good sometimes. Alrighty then, another 3.1 down!
(Hey there! I have to catch up on all these old race reports. I’m so sorry. Don’t mind me. Doop do doop do do do.)
A 1-miler! That’s fun and cool. An easy way to get a medal. A nice little walk through the city.
I met a very adorable couple of a woman who loved to run a bunch of these races, and a man who’d travel with her and volunteer for them! (“Well, I figure if I’m gonna be there, might as well help!”) I saw him in New Orleans! I remembered him kind of as “honey mustard pretzel guy” – the man who was really into giving runners ht honey mustard pretzels. “Have you tried these?!” He was so funny then and was just as lovely in Nashville.
As far as the half marathon, oh goodness gracious was it hot. So. Hot.
Somebody may or may not have ended up in the medical tent from a little fainting or losing balance/awareness or something after the race. But, the Rock ‘n’ Roll medical staff was out in full force and super helpful. And if you seem low on electrolytes, they will give you this amazing concoction of Gatorade with extra SALT! It’s so good. Why did I never think of putting salt packets in Gatorade before? Welcome to my new favorite running treat.
I stayed with a very sweet family while in Nashville, so that was nice and cool. And yeah, everything was generally lovely and cool and fun about this race. Another 14.1 down and more to go!
That post doesn’t make all *that* much sense. But I wasn’t totally sure what to call it. But Europe is a tiny piece of extra hope.
In Portugal, I just took adventure as it came! I just went out sightseeing. Weirdly, sightseeing has been something really super hard me. I just – I dunno. It’s easier to be alone at home. And it’s scary and overwhelming to be out.
But I don’t know if it’s because it’s just a *total* new experience, so I’m on sensory overload; or if it’s because I don’t know anyone, so I don’t have to be worried about anyone seeing me and not thinking I’m as “fun” as old Aurora or whatever; or what. But Europe just felt like “let’s go. I’m in it.”
I was definitely more present than I’ve been before, and that felt amazing.
Even after the race in Madrid, when I got a massage – I could feel the person touching me. And I don’t know if that makes any sense. And I don’t in any way mean in a sexual way. I just like – could feel – a human touch… like sometimes I’ve been so numb and not here, it’s like people touch me and like I can’t even comprehend I have a body or nerves or whatever.
But I *felt* the hands of another human being…
So, I still have some issues and stuff. And I kinda don’t want my whole freaking blog to become about “how I’m doooooing,” but you know, this project is all about coming back from sexual assault. And I saw a little glimmer of hope. *ping pong bling sound effect with a cute a visual flash*
Ooooooh goodness, I was here for a race I’m ultimately not counting toward Project 882, because feels like too much of a mess to me. (Also, I kinda knew it would be…)
The morning started off cool enough. We had this amazing gigantic free breakfast at my hotel. And I was delighting in basically everything. “Oh my goodness, look all these labels are in Spanish! All these little butters and jellys and stuff are in Spanish!”
“Oh look, these are in Spanish too!” (And on an on and on.)
Yes, Aurora, they’re all in Spanish, because you’re in Spain, silly goose!
This race was SO. INTENSE. Like, so intense.
It all started at the expo. In America, there’s just a little machine where you look up your number, and then you go get it. In Spain, you have to show your ID to a person who seems to be guarding your number like it’s a total secret.
And do you think you can show whatever ID is most accessible in your wallet? License or work or school ID or whatever, what does it matter? Well, it does. They want to see your passport. Then you go pick up your number where they also intensely look at your ID. In America, they just glance really fast to make sure you are who you say you are. In Spain, it’s like, “And what’s your mother’s maiden name and your favorite breakfast food?” Like, eeesh.
Also, the bibs are different colors whether your male or female. I don’t know what the deal is with that. I’d be interested to know why that is, but I don’t.
Then, for the race, there are these GIANT fences separating the corrals from the public. No one is climbing over that.
And there are probably like 9 or so security guards in between corrals to make sure no one runs between them – and that’s after you already pass a clump of multiple people checking your bib at the entrance to your corral.
Eep.
So, all the corrals went off, and I fell way behind. (Like way, totally.) Which I knew I would. The time limit was 3 hours. (I’m not that fast right now.) But I knew the finish line would be open for 6 for the marathon. So, I figured everything would be okay. But the half left me in the dust.
There were some other slow people I saw walking, also being left in the dust, and a number of us originally got there.
I went along and saw signs and mats and things being taken up, and bands putting stuff away. It was helpful to know I was on the right path (which, for the most part I stayed on, but in signature Aurora fashion, I always get a little lost).
Anyway fast forward and toward the end, there was basically a loop around the park. And I basically ended up having to jog on in and “finish,” and then finishing my loop.
It’s happened before (just this year) that some of the course has been cut off for me. Obviously I do *not* want to make this a habit… And the Rock ‘n’ Roll series may not seem to mind, since they let people continue on courses with detours, and/or they let them get in shuttles. *But* I, of course, care! I don’t want the rest of my races to be races where I’m making excuses as to why it’s okay I didn’t actually do the whole thing. That doesn’t sound like me, I think…
The other thing was clearer cut. There were a number of issues and it was part of a larger day. This one was simply I came to a race I wasn’t fast enough for, because I had to if I wanted to do all the Rock ‘n’ Rolls in a year (which I do).
So, I’m just gonna throw up my hands and say I got through the day as best I could for what I needed to do for this race series, but just so there’s no questions or thoughts of impropriety or anything, I’m just not gonna count it toward the 882. Simple enough.
Even though the race was a mess, I was totally prepared for that to be the case. (Or I was at least mildly prepared. I knew it would be some kind of mess, hoped for less than it was, but whatever. Aaaaanyway…)
The point I was trying to get to is that I still had fun in Spain. I got to use a pay toilet in a beautiful train station and be treated to the best bathroom of my life!
Thank you, Lisbon Airport, for encouraging my adventure!
I had a layover around 4 1/2 hours, and I wasn’t 100% sure if I was gonna leave the airport or now. “I mean… I should! I’m in Portugal!”
“…But also… I’m so tired” *shakes fist at sky “Curse you, Silicon Valley!”
And I didn’t know how long it takes to get through European airports. “Do I even have time to go out an explore.”
As I was trying to follow the signs to see where I’d go to get to my next flight, I was just kinda magically led outside. Like, “Huh. Oh. Well, I thought I was following the signs to a different part of the airport. Aaaaaand now I’m in Portugal.”
I got in a cab, and met Carlos (pronounced Carlosh, because it’s Portugal! So some “s” sounds have an “sh” sound (or at least that’s what I came to understand from Carlos(h).)Â Â I was like, “Well, I guess I want to go to… [There was like this aquarium place I kept seeing signs for in the airport.] So, I was like, “Well, I guess I wanna go there. I don’t know. I’m just in Portugal for 4 hours. So, I just wanna go to wherever touristy place makes sense.”
And then he asked if I wanted to take a little tour of Portugal. He gave me a super reasonable rate/good deal. And we were on our way!
He took me around to beautiful views of the city. As we were walking along one area past some shops and things, it was funny that alcohol was sold everywhere. Literally everywhere. There was someone with a table set up on the sidewalk – not a real shop or anything, just a table that sold alcohol.
We also went out to the water. Portugal’s so cool because you’re at the water then you’re at a castle, then you’re in a garden. Like, it’s so beautiful and old school and it has everything within such a short radius.
One of my super favorite things about Portugal is that the attitude there is just so thankful! I learned the word for “thank you” (“obrigado”) And when I asked how to say “you’re welcome,” Carlos told me I just say obrigado back. “Thank you” is met with “thank you”!
And when I felt like I was in someone’s way as we were walking through a crowd, I was like, “How do I say sorry?” And he told me, “We don’t use sorry that way.” Like, what?
It’s so cool! I feel like I use sorry or apologize so much in America (for stuff like that – feeling in the way or whatever), but they don’t use sorry like that. Sorry has deeper meaning and you don’t apologize like that over there. It’s pretty cool.
Anyway, sadly, before you know it, it was time to fly. Off to Spain I went.
[I. Still. Have. So. Much. Catching. Up. To. Do. With races and flying and stuff for Project 882. So, let’s get on it!]
First off, the plane was HUGE. The flight attendant who pointed me to my seat told me to go to the SECOND AISLE… THERE WAS A SECOND AISLE.
Also – this blew my mind – when I went to the bathroom, THERE WERE LITTLE TOOTHBRUSH/TOOTHPASTE KITS IN THERE.
If this is what flying in coach is like, what are the first class passengers getting? diamond encrusted bathrobes? We’re getting free toothbrushes, people!
And they’re nice! They have this great dome plastic caps – they’re like the most expensive-seeming plastic toothbrushes I’ve ever seen.
The only other thing I really have to say about this flight is that I have fallen head over heels with Silicon Valley. I was mindlessly looking for stuff to watch, and I thought, “I’ve heard SO much good about this show.”
And IÂ should’ve listened. It makes me want to pull my hair out because every time something seems like it will go so well… it doesn’t. But the show is so good. It takes really interesting turns I never see coming. And I most definitely did not sleep because how could I possible sleep when I could be watching Silicon Valley?!
So, I landed in Portugal after an overnight-HBO binge.
(Sorry, still just catching up on some of these old race posts.)
My dad came out for this one! That was pretty dope. He was here with me yesterday for the Garden Valley half, and then we headed to New Jersey. I switched down from the Half to the 8k because I was just in a lot of general pain. My ankle kind of hurt. My foot hurt in general.
[Edited to add: I found out later I had an infected toe. Ew.]
Anyway, yeah, I slowly walked it, got a really cool medal, then went to lunch with my dad and his childhood friend (and that friend’s family). And it was a generally fun/cool time.
Another state included. Another 8k done. And on and on we go!
Spoiler alert: This does not end with me doing the full marathon. It’s maybe gonna sound like it’s gonna happen, so I don’t wanna misdirect you or anything. I do the half.
Anyway, without further ado…
I was wondering back and forth if I should do the full or the half. Technically, this race had no time limit. So, obviously I should do the full, right? But I dunno. I’d been kinda having a little foot weirdness and was just generally exhausted. Maybe it was smarter to just do the half…
But who’s gonna do a half when I need the miles and the race is time limit-less? I need to do that full, yo!
So, I’m still thinking about it. My dad came out for the weekend, so he drove me to the start (which was pretty dope – yay for me not having to drive!).
And the race people give you this goody bag thing when you show up. And there was a 26.2 magnet in there!!!
I try to college magnets from full marathons I do, so to me it felt like a sign. “They’re giving me a magnet! I gotta do this, holmes.”
But I asked if I’d be able to change my mind mid-race even still, and they said yes.
Things went along well at first. I was walking with these two lovely women, talking about the craziness of politics right now, until we got to the turnaround for the half – which they took, as that’s what they were doing.
And then, somewhere around mile 10, I just started falling apart.
Everything hurt. I could barely make it anywhere. When I did make it to a port-o-potty around mile 16-ish, I think, I sat down in there and my legs were just shaking uncontrollably. Every. Thing. Hurt.
Why oh why oh why have I gotten so so so so bad at these races?!
At one point, as I was going along, I saw a sign that said something like, “One day I will not be able to do this. Today is not that day.” That gave me energy for like 1/9 of a mile as I muttered over and over, “today is not that day. Today can’t be that day. I can do this. I can do this.”
As I got slower and kinda feeblier, I guess, I was practically cursing the name of the man who assaulted me. I started crying somewhere in a later mile completely talking to myself (really to myself, I was in the middle of Amish country way away from anybody).
So, I’m crying and being like, “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t even be in this stupid mess to begin with! I wouldn’t be doing this project. I wouldn’t need to because I wouldn’t have holed up in my home and stopped running.”
And of course then I got a little self-reflecty like, could I have done more for myself? PTSD and a bought of depression isn’t a cart blanche excuse to just ruin everything about your life. But it didn’t change the fact that I can have some anger/upsetness/regret toward his general area. So, I was having my little mental breakdown and I kept moving forward.
At some point, one of the course sweepers asked if I’d take the walkie talkie, as I was the last person, and if I needed anything I could just ask.
As I muddled forward, eventually, I asked if I needed to stop, could I just take a time for the half and get a half medal and call it day, or is it marathon or bust?
They told me I could do that. But I still didn’t want to.
[Note: I’m gonna talk a little about a crazy blister/foot thing. If you’re not interested in reading that, please skip the section between the dotted lines.]
Finally, I stopped to take off my shoes and try to take care of this blister I was pretty sure I could feel. “Maybe if I just get rid of that, I’ll be able to be more successful at this.”
Now, I’ve been a marathoner for about 5 years. I’m not perfect at blister management. But I feel like I have a general idea how to kind of take care of them in a way to get by. And I’ve never had to take care of any *during* a marathon before. (I mean, that feels a little dangerous to me.) But this one was out of control.
…But I couldn’t get it to pop/be okay.
[Edited to add: It’s because I had a toe infection! It was unpoppable. There was like – I don’t even know, friend. We shouldn’t even talk about what was going on in my toe. But my podiatrist said that the skin was way too rough around it and it was going to be ruuull gross and bad and such and maybe be made worse if we tried to pop it. So, I got some medicine and eventually (soon enough) the swelling went down.]
Anyway, so on race day, I was having trouble even getting my shoe back on, my foot had swollen so much.
One of the race people stopped to check on me during their normal just drivin’ around checking round. And she was like, “I can’t tell you what to do. I know you don’t want to quit. But if you can’t even get your shoe back on, I don’t know how you’re gonna keep going. You have a lot of miles left.”
And I’m just all, “I can do it! I can do it!” through loads of despair.
And I’m trying so hard to shove my foot back into my shoe, but it won’t go in.
And finally, my dad comes and picks me up, and I walkie in and say I’m just gonna be a half finisher (as I’d already gone miles over 13.1) as he drives me to the finish.
(And of course, my time was like ridiiiiiculously long after all of this craziness – like, longer than most of my full marathon times. But alas, ’tis what it it is.)
The people here were SO nice. They were so nice about helping and getting me the half medal and everything. And I would like to go back next year and earn that magnet! But I suppose time will tell!
[It seems silly to even be doing these, because they mainly just talk about how sad I was… But, I also feel like I gotta power through them and catch up and have a post for all the races in Project 882. So…]
I’m sorry so many of these are so sad, but I don’t totally know what to say. I fell behind again. But, thankfully this was also a full marathon. So it didn’t matter much.
They had pacers pacing the people at the time limit for the half. So, I was really happy that it was two friendly people who told me to speed up rather than a bus. And soon enough (well, it was soon enough, but didn’t 100% feel that way), we got to the spot where we merged with the full and we were golden.
Raleigh seemed like a really sweet city. The people were super nice everywhere. It’d be a lovely place to come visit again.
The medals were cool. For some reason, I especially like my little 5k license-plate-shaped medal. I’m into it.
And yeah, that’s really all I got. Sorry for the short post (but maybe that’s better than a wildly long one?) Okie dokie. Bye!
So, I’m so sorry, but this one was mainly just sad. This is the race that inspired yesterday’s post.
I’m supposed to feel so at home and so in love in San Francisco.
And to think that I can’t even go to my favorite places and feel happy… I don’t know what it’s gonna take. None of the things that I usually do to feel better are working. None of my normal “escapes” are working. And feeling like nothing is working makes everything even worse. So, San Fran was a super giant struggle. And I don’t know much else to say except just that. I’m sorry.
I don’t see a single American around me anymore. Let’s all remember, I don’t speak Spanish. I’m holding all my luggage (and a coat). And I have no idea where to get my bib at his giant place in Mexico…
So, I’m running around from tent to tent, trying desperately to find someone who speaks English. But I can find no one.
Then I find the VIP tent. Well, okay, right?
I mean, if any tent is gonna have a) all the info b) people who speak some other probably popular-ish languages, it’s gotta be the tent for VIPs, right? (No.)
I get waved in by someone who turns out to be the wife of someone in our group. She has the same idea that this seems like a place that might have answers – or at least has a little bit of space, if nothing else.
Also, she probably wasn’t actually even waving me in, come to think of it, because her husband came in closely behind me. And we had a third American coming in at the same time as well.
So, we’re asking around and no one speaks English… until! Someone does. We explain the situation and he says he’s gonna figure it out for us. He calls in on his walkie. No one answers, so he goes on foot to check things out.
We finally take a tiny breather after all this running around with our luggage and we take turns in the port o’ potties. (Might as well use the bathroom while we (barely) have the time…
But English-speaking-dude never comes back!
The race is starting any minute, and we’re getting in a little bit of trouble for being in the VIP area without wristbands. So one of our runners runs over to yet another tent by the start line, while I send out a desperate email and Facebook message to the group asking if anyone knows where we go.
And my new runner friend gets an answer at the start line. We have to haul butt to a tent in center-field where they have our bibs. I get there before him and am told we have to sign a waiver at the table. I’m shown exactly where to sign. (I know it’s generally the same place, but we’re not thinking an in a hurry (and for all I know it’s in Spanish. I was paying no attention. They could’ve gotten me to sign my life away).) Anyway, I get a pen ready of him. As soon as he gets there, I point exactly where he has to sign. We sign and run.
I am carrying my bib and safety pins with me – didn’t even put it on, because we had no time. The race had already started!
Then, when I reach the start, there are barriers surrounding it – and not the barriers like at the US Rock ‘n’ Roll races where we can actually get through, but like these full barriers you can’t climb under. So, then I’m pushing through the crowd – saying excuse me, but I’m not 100% sure everyone can understand me because I’m just some dumb American being pushy. Then I leap up on top of the barrier and flip over. (I do not have an easy time with these at Spartan events. But dang. I go over this one like this is my job. I guess anything’s possible when adrenaline is flowing.)
Then I start jogging.
Now, I just have to outrun the shuttle. (Dum dum duuuuuuum [*scary chords*].)
So, I’m trying to outrun the shuttle, and let me tell you… it is not going well.
People keep asking me if I’m okay, and trying to encourage me to just get a little boost, but I just keep refusing and trying to hard to stay up with the time limit.
And then…
Ooooh, and then…
Somewhere around the section where we’re going into the highway, this guy on this scooter/motorcycle-y thing is trying to explain to me (again, in a language I lamely don’t speak) that I need to get on his scootery-motorcycle thing. But IÂ really don’t want to. (Of course.)
But.
I don’t really speak the language to argue. I don’t know where I am. They’re opening the road to traffic, and I see cars coming on. I’m gonna be lost and in trouble if I stay out here like this.
I don’t know how to say much to him, but the only thing I do know how to say is “poquito!” I just keep saying “poquito, poquito” while holding my fingers very close together – like “you’ll only take me a liiiittle little bit, right?”
He says poquito, and I try to just look at it as a new adventure. I’ve never ridden one of these two-wheeled vehicles, so I hop on and hold on and go on forward, holding onto him.
I feel the wind whipping through my hair and if you’re gonna do something as awfully lame as get on a shuttle, I suppose this is the way to do it.
He drives me forward about 3 kilometers, and then I join in with everybody else again.
AS the race gets closer to the end, it’s starting to feel painful – like the end is never going to come.
It doesn’t help that there are so many turns and turns and turns (and turns!). Every time you think you’re going toward the finish line? You’re not, friend!
The one part that was super the coolest though was that the course had you run right between the band’s stage at the finish festival the giant screaming crowd. So, you got to feel like a huge celebrity for a minute.
So, finally I “finished,” and of course I put that in quotes because I had to ride for part of the race and I’ve never done that before.
And I know the Aurora we all know (and maybe hopefully love), you’d think would grab that medal and throw it. (And then she’d go retrieve it and give it to charity, but certainly not keep it.)
However, I don’t know if I’m just getting soft or too apathetic or what, but I was kinda like, “Weeeeeeeeeeell… If you look at my phone tracking, I did the 3 kilometers in all the running around (with my bags!) before the race. Like, it was part of a whole day event that didn’t run the way we were told and this was me improvising the best I could.
Of course, fitter people were able to do it better/faster… They weren’t stuck on any vehicles (even if they were super cool ones).
So, this probably shouldn’t count as a half marathon when I couldn’t my lifetime half marathons… But I am kinda like, “Eh, come on. You did the best you could in a situation you didn’t know you’d be in…” And now I’m just rambling in a circle.
The most important thing is how I’m gonna count it for Project882. And I’m counting 10 miles. Instead of just taking off 3 kilometers, I’m taking off 3.1 miles to be on the safe side, but I’m gonna count the 10 I did because this is a lot of miles, y’all. And I gotta count what my feet are doing on the ground! Even if counting the whole race is iffy, those 10 miles were real and so hard and they’re going in the total.
After the race, I had a hotel room, though ultimately, I’m not 100% sure why when you really thought about what time I was getting there vs. what time I had to leave.
I got up to my room I think around 11:30pm. My flight was around 5am the next morning.
When I peeled my poor socks off, my feet were bleeding from who even knows what – shoes, blisters, whatever.
Even planning for the day, it was still super hard. But I showered, changed, ate some vegetarian tacos in the restaurant with some of the people who’d done the race, and then I went to the airport.
And I sat on the ground as I waited to check into my flight, ’cause at this point I could barely move. Once I landed, I went straight to work and somehow hobbled through the day.
So, the Dallas race was over. I had found my uber driver even in the craziness of tents and trucks and everything that is the remains of a half marathon.
And I’m like, “Hey, new friend! I need to get to the airport liiiiike as fast as we can go.”
And we take off and he tells me we need to get gas… Of course.
I’m all, “Isn’t there aaaaany way that maybe just maybe you could get gas after the airport?”
But no. He’s not confident we can make it to the airport with the gas we have.
So, he stops off for a super quick trip. I felt bad that he didn’t even have time to fill the tank, but appreciative that he only got what he needed since we were on a time crunch.
I ate some food in the backseat and took a couple of selfies with my medal, and small talked with Juan (my driver).
Before you know it, I was at the airport. And when I walked in, I might as well have had one of those chorus of angels sound effects play. Because the line for the American Airlines ticket counter was empty.
I go up there and start to hurriedly (scardly (not a real adverb, but I’m using it)) explain, “I keep trying to change a typo of one letter in my last name. Please help me!” And Kim sweetly says, “You’re fine. You’re here. You’ve made it. Take a deep breath. We’re gonna get you on the plane.”
(Woot!)
She’s training someone. So, I kind of hear them talking about options of what they do when there’s a misprint on someone’s name. And ultimately, what she does is write a note on my boarding pass to security that it’s off by one letter, but I am Aurora and they should let me through. And she leaves her gate agent number or whatever is it airline employees have. She signs it. And off I go. I’m told I’ll probably get extra screening (like a pat down or a bag check), but whatever. I don’t care.
So, I go to security. They tell me my pass isn’t good there. “How do we know you didn’t just write this yourself?” They won’t get me go through. So, I go back toward the counter.
Kim is either getting off her shift or taking a break or something because I see walking away from the counter. “Kim! They won’t let me through!”
“Oh yes they will!” she says as she comes to escort me.
She comes over to security and a security supervisor is summoned. Everyone is looking at my documents and boarding pass, and finally, I’m allowed through. (Thank you Kim and everybody! …It was especially nice of her to take time to escort me when it seemed like she wasn’t even on the clock anymore.)
Just putting my foot in my face as I stretch out before the flight
So, I get through security. Now that I’ve taken that pair of half marathon shoes off, I don’t put them back on again.
When I grab my stuff, I change shoes and socks. I also have some blisters and a couple of little cuts on my foot (I guess from dry skin or blisters that popped. (Ew.))
There’s one of those little spa right next to security. So, I go ask them for band-aids, and they give me some! They also let me sit in a comfy chair. And one woman, whom I tell about my big fundraising effort, even gives me a free 10-minute foot massage!
Then, it’s time to run to the gate, ’cause as awesome as this all is, I don’t have time for this.
I get on the plane, and every single person in business class is a runner. (Cool. In the words of High School Musical (which I’ve never seen, but certainly have seen memes), “We’re all in this together.”
The flight attendant has left gigantic water bottles for all of us – which I greatly appreciate. (I end up going through 3 of them(!)… and using the bathroom twice. Gotta hydrate. It was hot in Texas. I am slightly worried about over-hydrating. But not really. With a plane ride coming off a hot race, I don’t think I’m actually in any real danger of that.
We also get food. (I could get used to business class!) We get warm nuts. (Yes, those are actually a thing – not just a thing fancy people in movies get to eat on planes.)
And there was this awesome salty chocolate they had… I don’t super love chocolate, but I do love salt. And the really nice seatmate next to me scored me an extra piece when I was in the bathroom. (Super cool, right?)
Also, when I got on board, I got one of those little things to fill out for customs. Any international business was new to me, ’cause it was my first international flight!
So, I filled out the thing and when you get to Mexico, somebody checks it and then you fill out another thing about your bags. Then you click a button that tells you whether your bags have to be screened or not. (It feels like we should have things like that in America to make random searches a little more actually random, no?)
Anyway… So, Mexico. We did it. We flew. We napped. (The flight attendant even made a comment about how the people in business class got sleep, but in coach, they did not… Take your party class, y’all! I was happy to nap.) We landed. We made it through customs.
The Rock ‘n’ Roll series had a couple of people with a big sign waiting for us, as they had arranged a shuttle for us. So, we followed the sign, we got on the shuttle.
(just a pic of those mystical warm nuts (and my stretching) on the plane)
I love the Rock ‘n’ Roll series. So, when I tell you the beginning of the Mexico City race for this American was a total mess, please don’t take that to mean I don’t love them… I’m hoping you can take it for the love/hilarity/silliness/ridiculousness with which it is spoken.
So.
We’re on this bus. And the race starts in this stadium/horse-race track place. My understanding is that the bus is supposed to be able to drive into the middle area. (I later find out there are indeed buses there, and that our bus picks us up from there later that night. So, it seems like it could’ve been super possible indeed.)
But instead, we end up getting stopped in a parking lot. I don’t know where the miscommunication was or who was really in charge of what… because I guess that horse racing place has some ownership or at least autonomy of some kind when it comes to parking. And I think there’s another international company that’s helping Rock ‘n’ Roll put on the race – like, I don’t think the Rock ‘n’ Roll series actually runs everything and has the final say in everything… Because…
I’m only sort of kind of getting the story (in large part because I don’t speak Spanish). But someone who does speak Spanish is translating as best they can what they can hear from outside the bus. Apparently the parking people are asking for money even though the bus people are trying to explain that we’re supposed to have permission to go on the field.
At first, we’re all pretty strong in this feeling of, “We’re not doing a long walk with our luggage! Let our bus through!”
…Aaaaaaaand then we all realize we don’t have any power at all and when they tell us to get off the bus and grab our luggage, we do as we’re told.
So, here we go.
I’m now carrying a heavy duffel bag and bookbag (’cause they have all my stuff for an international trip that includes two races (plus a dress and such because I stopped in Ohio for my grandma’s 90th birthdya on my way to Texas)).
And we’re going. We’re moving through crowds, trying to figure out which way to go (as the crowd is not all going in the same direction since some are maybe going to their cars or who knows where).
And we come upon this woman from the race standing blocking the path to move through barriers toward the race. Again, I don’t speak Spanish. (Goodness, I should learn!) But someone in our group is explaining to me that she’s saying she can only let people with bibs through…
But we were told we were going to get our bibs once we got there… We don’t know where our bibs are, but they’re somewhere past where she’s standing, and we don’t have them.
So, there’s talk back and forth and then someone from our group has the idea – what if we show our vanity bibs? We got these fun bibs that say #Tex2Mex (even though they don’t actually mean anything). But, they show we’re from a group our something. And there’s more talking back and forth and begging until she reluctantly agrees.
So, everyone is fishing through their bags, and we all get through – or at least, I think we all get through.
It seems like with nearly every step we take we’re losing someone off of our gigantic group who disappears into the giant crowd around us.
We keep walking, walking, and then we go down some stairs which leads us to this giant track and field with tents and people everywhere. And I look around and realize – uh oh… I’m one of the people who’s been lost.
Here we go! The first race of the #Tex2Mex challenge – that means Texas in the morning and Mexico at night!
[And there was a 5k on the weekend as well. It was fun and lovely.]
I have tried to be very deliberate in my planning of this weekend.
I tried to get a pretty good amount of sleep (for once, with my crazy work/travel schedule :-P). I got my ankle KT-taped at the expo (just to be on the safe side). I have a second pair of shoes I changed into after security at the airport. Like, I am doing everything I can to be ready for this crazy adventure!
This morning, I woke up and stopped over to the VIP bag check. (Thank heavens for the sweet Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon series giving me the awesome VIP treatment for singing The National Anthem.) I wasn’t 100% sure on the luggage rules, but I was hoping to goodness the Rock ‘n’ Roll VIP place would take my duffel bag, bookbag, and coat, because as soon as the race was over, I wanted to grab that stuff and get in an Uber – no time for this walking to some hotel and getting it from behind a desk.
Thankfully, yes. They took my luggage. Then I went over to the start line where all the “Los Locos” (members of the #Tex2Mex challenge) were hanging out. We took some pictures and warmed up and all that jazz, and then I sang the National Anthem. Then, bam! It was time to start! We all got to start up in the 1st corral(!), since the Rock ‘n’ Roll series knew we all had to catch our flights. (That was super nice of them.) It was crazy starting behind the elites! Hello great start line view!
Then I went along and did the course. The bridge was pretty. The weather got kinda hot. And I ended up spending the last number of miles on the phone(!). I’d been having trouble checking in for my flight, and I’d found out it was because somehow there was a typo in my last name. (Dum dum duuuuuum – scary chords.)
I was on hold alone (not even counting talking time) somewhere around 50 minutes during the race…
in the back of the Uber, documenting the day/medal while covering my mouth overflowing with biscuit – trying to “carb up” for race 2 on the way to the airport
I had tried to get the problem fixed before the race
First, I’d talked to an agent at the airport when I first landed in Dallas. I saw I was having trouble checking in, and she said it was because it was more than 24 hours before the flight. Oh, duh! That made sense to me, of course. (Apparently I’d somehow forgotten how Friday and Sunday work and that they are not in fact within 24-hours of each other.)
Because that was such a simple, normal explanation, neither of us thought to look for anything else, or noticed the typo.
Then, when I tried to check in within the actual 24-hour period, I couldn’t. So, I called in to American Airlines. That was when I was told about the typo problem, but said that it couldn’t be fixed over the phone since we were within 24-hours – I’d have to wait ’til I got to the airport.
As the race continued, and I thought about how relatively little time I was gonna have at the airport, I called American asking if I could upgrade to first class. All I could see in my future were lines and lines – to the ticket counter, through security, and I wanted to try to bypass them (’cause I thought I might not make it to Mexico otherwise.)
Turns out, I was already in business class! (And the flight didn’t have a first class, so I was officially good to go.) I don’t know how that happened. But shhhhh, try not to move and hope it all just stays that way!
Then, since we were already on the phone, I asked if there were any way at all the typo could be changed while I was on the phone…
She said no, but that since I booked through Priceline, they could help me change it.
And this is where that super long hold time came into place.
I felt bad because I totally snipped at the woman who was just trying to do her job. (“We’ve been on the phone for nearly an hour and you can’t help me change one letter in a reservation?” Or something along those lines is what I annoyingly told the poor customer service agent who probably gets snipped at all day every day.)
So, we got off the phone, and I finished the race. As I was turning the corner toward the finish, I made a mental note of the intersection where I saw cars/taxis being able to drive because I knew I’d want to put that into Uber very soon.
Crossed the finish line. Went to pick up my Remix medal. They were out. (They’re gonna send ’em out to everyone who didn’t get one.) I did get my Lone Star for doing San Antonio last year and Dallas this year. Then, over to the VIP tent to grab food and my stuff, and on my walk over there, I ordered an uber (knowing it would take at least a few minutes for the uber to get there in half marathon traffic).
I grabbed my bags and some food. (Yet again I felt bad because I dropped a biscuit and a couple of pickles on the grass, but did I pick them up? Nope. I was like, “There’s too much stuff in my hands and I’m in a super hurry. I just let them sit there… Apparently this is the day where Aurora’s just a big jerk…)
So, I took a new biscuit and pickles and hurried across the field to meet my very nice Uber driver… Who informed me we needed gas. (Dum dum duuuuuum!) And this is where I’ll pick up tomorrow.
I guess technically, I didn’t have to fly so much, but goodness, did I.
[Sorry, this is just a random draft I never posted, and now I have space for it!]
I started the week in California. Then on election day, I flew to Ohio to knock on doors for Hillary Clinton. Then on election night, I flew to New York to be close the Javits Center. On Wednesday, I was about to go to the airport, when I got the news I could hang with Cory Booker. So, I called and changed my flight. And on Thursday, I went to Jersey to see Cory. Then I got on a flight (back in New York), and flew to Ohio to get the perfect dress for the Marine Ball.
I was having such a hard time finding a dress… I’m sure I could’ve found a place in New York or New Jersey to buy one, but I had to pick up some stuff from my parent’s house anyway. Plus, there was a perfect dress place there. Then Friday morning, I flew to San Diego for the Marine Ball that night.
I Marine ball’d it up and had a fantastic time. And then Saturday I flew to Boston. Sunday I did the Spartan Sprint in Fenway Park. Then, I bussed down to New York where I started a long stint at work on Monday.
Oof! It just felt like a lot of flights and buses and such and a lot to keep straight… It felt like the time I was first moving to New York haha
[lip smack – I couldn’t decide between Oof! Aye aye aye! Phew! Woo! etc… So, let’s go with one of those lip roll raspberries thing, because I don’t know what sound I want… Anyway…]
My bus was delayed, and I got in preeeeetty late (or early in the morning – however you wanna look at it).
I made my way to my friend’s house, and we went to bed.
Then, it was time to get up suuuuuper early in the morning. The marathon started, I think an hour or so before the half, and I was singing for both.
The cool part about singing twice in one morning – and having a good friend of mine with me – was that he recorded my performance for me, and we went over it between performances, so I could pick out little things I wanted to do better.
After the first performance, we got to go have VIP breakfast. (Yum!)
We met a number of interesting people there – some also tacking big projects of running in all the states and all kinda jazz.
And then it was back out to sing again and then take off.
Fareed is lovely, so lovely. And he stuck around with me, even though I was quite slow until we got to mile 10. I had to toooootally slow down, as I was way tired, and he had a full day of some things he had to do. So, he went ahead with my blessing.
But it is embarrassing as all get out that I can’t keep up with my friends!
Aye aye aye aye aye aye aye aye aye.
Sigh.
Then once I got back to his house, I slept for approximately 80,000 years. And then he and his sister and I all went out to dinner and eventually I bussed back to New York and slept some more [laughs exhaustedly].
Also, look! A sweet, sweet chance to use one of the million port-o-potties down there. I wanted to pee at the airport, but I’d been too afraid of time constraints and missing the race. But finally, there was room. The lines were not crazy. I was safely at the race. But alas, now they were all out of toilet paper. Eep!
Aaaanyway, soon enough I made it to a Starbucks where I totally used the bathroom (and bought something small – I’m not about to be ruuude, if I can help it).
The sunrise and palm trees were gorgeous, as per usual. (When are palm trees not gorgeous?)
I slowly (slooooowly) made my way around.
I was the last person to cross the turnaround timing mat for the half. “Look who it is! We’ve been waiting for you!” (They were nice and silly and we had fun.) I felt bad and apologized to the people manning it, being totally sorry they had to wait for me. But they were soooo nice about it. “Hey, we’re here for you! No worries!”
And slooooowly but surely, I made it to the end.
The medal was great and I got a long massage. One of my ankles was really really stiff and not moving like my other one. That’s probably not good, but here’s hoping it clears up soon enough.
Then I hung on the beach for a small bit ’cause it was beautiful and yay, sand and all that.
So, I did Divas Temecula the day before this one. And then I got on a plane and flew to Florida and right when the plane landed, I was booking it out to my uber.
Thankfully the race was small enough that there wasn’t craaaazy traffic trying to get there. My uber driver was able to get my really close pretty quickly.
I checked my bag, and tried to use the bathroom, but all the lines were so long I figured I’d do it somewhere along the course.
And I semi-narrowly made it to another half marathon on the opposite side of the coast (going the “wrong” way time-wise (or at least the less helpful way to me).
I didn’t stretch at all. (I made basically this *exact* same mistake 5(!) years ago after I got off a long bus ride from Florida to Louisiana. Back then I was like, “Don’t ever forget to stretch before a race if you’ve been in the same seat on public transportation for a while.” And now I’m like, “Stretching? What’s stretching?”
Like, oh my goodness, gracious. Learn a lesson, Aurora.
Anyway.
The time limit on this race was long, because it was the same for the half and the full. So, thankfully I had 6 hours. So, being sore didn’t matter all that much in the grand scheme of things.
One thing that was funny was that very soon after we all took off for this race, we got stopped at train tracks that just took foreeeeeever. (I mean, obviously not literally forever, because I’m not writing you from the train tracks now.) But it took a reeeeally long time – long enough that the person in charge of the race walked down the street and announced that we all should come back to the start, and they’d re-start the race so people weren’t losing so much time!
Weather forecasts called for all of that the next day too. It was supposed to rain during the whole race. So, I went in my full coat (as I did for the San Antonio Marathon in December – it poured there and that coat kept me going!).
But alas, it just kept not raining. It was so hot.
During the 5k, I whipped my coat off as I could not bear to wear it anymore. I ran across the street (in the lane where people were turning around), and hung it on a fence post – thinking that someday, when I get to that turnaround, I’ll just grab it.
Or not.
It was nowhere to be found at the end of the race. I asked the race people if they had any idea where it could be. I told them I was well aware it was my fault it was gone and I can’t expect to leave something and have it be there. But I was just hoping maybe since it was hung, not thrown, and since it was a big winter coat – just maybe it would be around?
Even if it had been picked up – I hoped maybe clothes wouldn’t have been taken in yet to whatever place they were donating them to… And I could rummage through whatever was there. But alas, my coat was nowhere to be found. So, that was a bummer. It had some stuff in the pocket that would’ve been nice to have (including a little cash and a credit card).
BUT, I’m the idiot who just left my coat there. I see how I could’ve been hopeful, maybe, since there was a turnaround… But, I also see how I was willing to take the gamble because I was so very hot (on this day that was supposed to be miserable with rain).
So, that covers it – ran through dirt, but around leftover mud, got a really cool medal, lost my coat (and the Divas staff was very nice and forgiving about it). Made a new friend randomly through social media.
After the race, we went and ate together. Then when I got home, I jumped in the hot tub and one my best friends in the world came by and joined me and we had dinner together.
California was so very beautiful and I really cannot wait to tell you all about it. But first…
After dinner, I went and got on a redeye. That’s right. I have a race tomorrow in Florida. So, it’s bedtime now!
I’ve been hearing about this race series since the 52 half marathons in 52 weeks. If you do 5 in a year, you get this “Supreme Diva” plaque. And I was like, “yeeeeeeah, I’m not gonna do some if I can’t do 5, because I might as well just get the plaque.”
And alas, now we are in a year where 5 makes sense. I was barely able to fit them all in the schedule with the various Rock ‘n’ Roll races I need to do, but exactly 5 can fit. (Although, now with the cancellation of Queretaro, I actually have 6 available Divas races available. Wiggle room. Cool.)
Anyway, I heard that if you’re gonna do a Divas race, you gotta do Temecula. Apparently it has the coolest medals and nicest swag. (As of now, it’s the only one I’ve done. So, I have nothing to compare it to. Ask me again in October.)
Originally, a friend was going to take me to Temecula, but he was called away on business. So, I posted in this random running Facebook group (that I recently found this year and love), asking if anyone was driving from LA to Temecula. And a sweet girl wrote me back, offering to drive. (Yaaaaay!)
I woke up around 2 am, and we ended up leaving around 3ish. (So. Early.)
You had to get there early to take a shuttle from the parking lot to the vineyard. They were pretty intense in the race instructions about getting there on an early shuttle to be sure you had time to get your packet (if you hadn’t picked it up the day before). So, we obliged.
We had a nice drive talking about future races and goals and all that fun stuff.
When we got our packets, everybody got race jackets (not the thin loud ones, but just like a zip-up warm thing), and pink light-up tutus.
As for the race itself, I was actually wondering how I could talk about it any differently than I did about the races I did in wine country from the 52 half marathons. ‘Cause it felt kind of the same – animals, quiet, scenery.
We had to walk over some wooden things that kept mud away from us, so it was nice those were down. That was something random and different about this race…
And that leads to talking about the weather – which leads to talking about losing my coat! And that’s what’s different about this – the race where I oh so irresponsibly lost my coat.
It rained like craaaaaazy in SoCal the day before this. A video was posted online about how outdoor steps at a parking garage had basically become a waterslide. Sinkholes were happening. It was crazy. People were saying they couldn’t even make it to packet pick-up. Driving seemed too dangerous (or maybe even a little impossible).
Someone (I think one of the guys taking the sticker off the ground) says something like “she’s fine. She’s right here. Just let her finish.”
And the woman says emphatically, “she’s not a runner!”
And I yell out “I am!” Weirdly enough some people around me also yell out “she is,” even though I guess they don’t actually know any more than she would. So, I don’t understand why they know or why they’re so caring, but I’m glad they are.
Anyway, she’s like “where’s your bib?”
TA-DA!
Thank goodness I was able to pull it out of my pocket. And I went on.
And I could hear that woman behind me saying “I heard them say the last runner was crossing, and she didn’t have her bib. How was I supposed to know?”
And I felt really bad that she seemed to feel bad like she messed up or something, because her point was very valid.
Anyway, I went on down that last little stretch, and then I saw Annie. And she was like “wait! One more runner! I know you.” And she was saying nice things about me in the mic. And she came to greet me. And I said, “The timing’s mat’s still down, right?! I’m gonna get to finish?!”
And she was like “we got you!”
She said into the mic, “Keep the timing mat down for one more!” And I ran on through and got my medal and the remix medal and the jacket – oh that illustrious marathon jacket…
(And the woman in the van did not have a happy face on that I refused her orders *and* still got to finish, for anyone who’s wondering.)
If it had truly come down to it, I suppose I would’ve rather finished the actual distance and not gotten a medal (if that really had to happen – even though that would’ve had some dire consequences on the year-long-plan, oof…) than the other way around… but thankfully, I got both! (Yay!)
(By the way, I know I was being a little selfish, and I did take longer than I should have. So, while this is sort of a story of persistence and stubbornness and finishing, it’s also possible the story of an entitled girl who expected bent rules. So, I am sorry to the extra strain I put on the people around me. And THANK YOU so much for letting me finish! And onward we go!! :-))
Just as I was about to the final bit – At the white barriers that lead you into the finish line, I heard “I hear we have our last finisher coming in!” – about the person right in front of the race vehicle (the race vehicle driven by the woman who’s mad at me – all other race vehicles are still tailing me).
Oh my gosh. I am SO close! I can literally see the finish. I bet I can get in before the timing mat comes up…
Then, just as I’m about to pass the guys pulling up the “New Orleans 2017 sticker off the ground” (like, I am SO ridiculously close at this point), a woman’s like “you gotta get out of here”
She’s very firm about it, basically literally blocking my path with her body telling me I can’t be in there.
And I’m thinking “wow, they were not kidding about that forfeit thing. I *barely* didn’t beat the van and they are cloooosing down the finish line”
But then the guys taking up the sticker (and someone else by the barrier) are all like “she’s fine. She’s fine.”
And so I say thanks and start to move forward, but the woman’s like “you can’t go that way!”
And then I’m asking how I leave the barriers (still hoping to figure out a way to run over the timing mat before they take it up). And it’s very confusing ’cause I’m getting down to crawl out from the barriers and keep moving forward. But she seems to be suggesting I turn around and leave the area completely, just not going toward the finish.
And I don’t 100% understand why she’s acting like not only closing down the finish line, but not letting a runner go anywhere near it would be totally normal and not frustrating for a runner… Like, she seems to not understand why I want to keep going forward… So, it’s this whole bru-ha-ha of confusion that no one really understands is happening until…
And I wanted to make *sure* I still had my bib on me, in case I could pass the van (or even come in after it, before the finish line is down).
So, knowing I was falling behind, I put my bib in my pocket when nobody was looking. And when that woman told me I had to give it up, I was like “a friend came by and took it for me,” which doesn’t really make sense any sense at all, and also I was a big liar, and I’m 99.999% certain she knew I was lying. (Go listen to my appearance on the Runner of a Certain Age Podcast, and you’ll hear more. :-)) But even though she knew I was lying, since she couldn’t see my bib, and I guess maybe felt she couldn’t ask to see my pockets, she angrily passed me by.
I tried to stay out of the way, and on the shoulder and sidewalks and stuff, but, even still, a huge caravan of vehicles followed me.
I almost made a wrong turn at some point, and the cop told me I had to turn right to stay on course. And this wave of gratitude and hope washed over me. “He’s helping me to stay on course? He wants to help me and make sure I finish?”
“Are they gonna let me finish,” I asked full of hope. And he told me yes!
As I said, originally, the race vehicles were trying to convince me to board the shuttle. (It’s funny because after refusing, I later caught up to (and passed) a spot where they were boarding a ton of people – but then I fell behind again when they drove right passed me, ’cause you know… they were in a vehicle, and I was not.)
And the one woman was not happy that I was refusing. (I get it. I’m sure it was annoying for her.) But the other sweeping race vehicle, just joined on board with my pursuit and even asked me if I wanted water. (Isn’t that sweet? :-))
So, once I got to the halfway point, I was around 3 hours and 30 minutes – not ideal, but close enough that I thought, “I can do this. I’ve gotta do this.” So, forget that out I gave myself to just do the half if I wanted. I kept on going on the full course.
Between mile 23 and 24, a woman slowed down beside me in the race vehicle and started to tell me she was gonna “give me a little bump,” and I was like “nope.”
And she seemed really taken aback – like apparently no one else had fought with her (or at least her reaction would’ve made you think that).
I felt if I could get to mile 23, I’d be safe – because we were back in the park. They weren’t holding up major streets anymore. So, I felt safer in the idea that if I fell behind, it might not be the end of the world.
When she tried to convince me, I was like “I’ll just walk on the sidewalk. I’m a pedestrian now.”
And she said “if you get in, you’ll still get a medal. If you don’t, we’re not responsible for you. You forfeit your right to be in the race”
And I was like “okay. I’m not getting in.” (‘Cause that’s not a marathon if I ride part of the way.)
Then she was like “well, I have to take your bib if you’re forfeiting…”
I’d read that if someone chooses not to board the van, they had to give up their bib.
Well, I want to keep all of my race bibs. Plus, I was still preeeeetty certain that I was gonna get to the finish before they’d totally torn it down – even if they had torn some stuff down… it was a gamble, but I know they don’t just snap their fingers and all of the sudden the timing mat is up – and I wasn’t *that* far behind…
But that meant, if I didn’t do this one, I was painting myself into a corner. I’m leaving no space for a bad day or a sick day or what have you in any of the three possible ones in the future (the ones that have the long time limit – San Diego, Savannah, and San Antonio). And quite honestly, I’m kinda hoping I get the three marathons in before San Antonio so I can switch down to the half (since I’ve already done the full), and have more time to enjoy the city.
Anyway, I knew a marathon was preferable, but a half was possible. And of course, as I keep saying lately, work had been busy, life had been busy, whatever. My sleep schedule was a bit messed up (as per usual).
I’d heard from a number of people that you the New Orleans full is awful – that you split off so close to the half finishers that you can *hear* them finishing and all the cheering and everything… and that the back half is lonely and boring – many spectators aren’t around, etc.
I mean, I heard it over and over and over from so many people. “That’s the worst half of the series. Don’t do it.”
But I thought, “It cannot be that bad.” And in my opinion, it really wasn’t. I don’t know if it’s because I was told to expect the worst of what. But I didn’t think it was so bad.
I mean, yes. I did hear the half finishers. But that happens in other marathons. That tooooootally happens at my favorite marathon (the San Francisco marathon). You know. It’s whatever. And yes, technically, it did feel like there were fewer spectators in the second half. But there was this out and back that had awesome blaring upbeat pop music. I felt they were really making a party, as much as they could, out of those back miles.
I actually felt I really found my stride around mile 19. I saw runners coming back from the other way, so I felt their energy. The music was great. I got a jolt of energy!
That super energy did not last though…Â As we will get into next time.
(My favorite sign. This was taken at mile 7 of 26.2 hahahaha)
Rock ‘n’ Roll New Orleans, baby!
I remember loving this one from the 52 half marathons in 52 weeks. And it was just as lovely as I remember it…
I mean… I’m pretty sure the route had to be different, because I remember some streets that were something that wasn’t normal road – cobblestone maybe or something like that?
Anyway, the point is, I don’t remember seeing that this time around. I know my last Nola race was 5 years ago, so what would I know really about the route? But I think there was a change and somebody can tell me if I was right – if they want. 🙂
Aaaaaaaaanyway, the gist was the same though – all those fantastic jazz bands. Horns everywhere. I love the vibe.
I also forgot how much New Orleans wants to eff you up – even early in the morning. The alcohol is always flowing. There was a stop with vodka martinis. There was a stop with a sign that said “Beer free, water $5.” There was a stop with mimosas. (All unofficial race stops, just for the record.) But if you wanted to be drunk while you did your marathon… New Orleans had your back!
The crowd was great. Bands were great. Everything was great.
Since I did the half last time (and wanted to do something more/new/exciting), and since I’ve gotta get 882 miles in this year, I was going after the marathon!
I did mentally give myself a *bit* of an out. I knew that if I switched down to the half, I could still make up those miles. (I’ve got room in my schedule.) Also, I’m trying to do 3 Rock ‘n’ Roll full marathons this year (because they have a sweeeet new heavy medal for doing 3 in one year). And I knew I had 3 other marathons that were possible…
I also think it’s such a silly thing to say, “Who would register and not follow your social media”? Um, lots of people. Think of all the people who do over 100 races in a year. Do you think they follow every race? Do you think even if they do that they get every notification? What, people are supposed to live on Facebook? That’s what twitter’s for. 😉
And so I’m trying not to go respond on Facebook because I know it probably won’t lead to anything good or people so staunch in their “Facbeook was enough!” view to see things a different way… But then if I only talk about it here, am I now the one sub-blogging, I suppose?
Aye aye aye aye aye.
Also, I do just want to throw one little note in here that as much as I’m annoyed that I don’t feel like I’m hearing the “voice of reason” or whatever in the comments of that thread, I still am happy the race has people to back them up. I mean, I’d love some admission they could’ve done better. But I am happy the people who run it seem to have a strong support system in the middle of them feeling attacked (whether we meant to “attack” them or not).
Anyway, if you have opinions on this, I’d love to hear. And if not, that’s cool too! Have a great night! The end 🙂
I mean, I know it absolutely might not be about me, of course. But it feels a little like it is since I got such a big response. You read the literal exact screenshots of the exchange. Did I come off as rude? You can tell me if I did.
I wasted hundreds of dollars for no reason. I’m *not* mad at them because the city forced them to cancel their race. Their hands were tied. How could I be mad about that? I’m mad that they had information for over 9 hours the day before the race without sending an email about it (the easiest way to make sure everyone would know). I’m upset that my flight didn’t leave until after 6pm. There was ample time for me to find out and not have to go. (And I was not the only person with a story like this.)
And I believe I have a legitimate right to be made about that. But again, please tell me if you think I’m being unreasonable.
I just personally don’t think it has to be an “us against our mean customers” thing. Just an apology for mishandling the situation would’ve made me feel approximately 1,000 times better than just continuing to defend something that could’ve been done better.
And then there’s a big string of contents just totally defending this place. It is totally taking way too much self control (which might not last forever) to not go on there and trying to give a piece of my mind – especially to the person who said, “In this day and age who would register and not follow your social media? It happens!! Get over it! Hurricane Matthew caused cancellation of vero beach in Oct. we are alive…we will live to run again!”
Because I just want to explain, “We’re not upset about the weather! We’re upset about ruined weekends and lost money –Â that didn’t have to be lost. That’s the big part. Had the race found out at 9pm, and we were all already there. Okay. What else could they have done? But that wasn’t the case. They knew for more than a full workday and couldn’t write an email…
I’m sorry to get so worked up about arguing and social media here. But they did one more Facebook post.
One of the things said in there is: “Soon after, I started seeing posts on Facebook wondering why they hadn’t received email notification earlier, as if to suggest we were hiding from our athletes, or not being open to them in making our announcements. Some complained right here on Facebook that the “only” word they heard was through Facebook, leaving me to wonder, “wasn’t that enough?””
I don’t want to act like the whole world revolves around me, but I feel a little bit like I’m being sub-Facebooked there… And if I happen to be in the group of people he’s talking about, I certainly wasn’t meaning to suggest he was hiding anything. I’m just saying, I feel like I’m allowed to be upset that an email and website update wasn’t done in a timely fashion.
And the whole “if they’re saying it on Facebook, then they’re reading Facebook” thing… I can’t speak for everyone else, but I was on Facebook because I’d already checked my email and the website and twitter. And heard nothing. And when someone who worked for the hotel and a runner in the lobby said the race was cancelled, I went to one of the only sources I had left. And in answer to the question, no. Of course Facebook isn’t enough. You can’t assume people are on FB all the time, or even that they will see all of their notifications. You can’t assume everyone even has FB. (Someone in my hotel didn’t.)
Just, this idea that there were so many runners to deal with that they didn’t have time for the email… It just makes me think, “You’re not dealing with the real underlying problem that will help you not have people confused over and over…. If you had a big cut in your arm and blood was pouring down, you wouldn’t constantly keep wiping up the blood that was falling onto your forearm (or kitchen floor or whatever). You’d bandage up the source. You’d stop the bleeding. Then you’d clean up. (Otherwise, where are you getting?)
Also, the other place I feel potentially sub-Facebooked is here. “My only regret in how I handled this difficult situation is that I responded to a small handful of overly negative posts and emails, when I was extremely upset after being called a fraud in an email remark.”
This was actually a gigantic point of contention with this year’s Dopey Challenge. I wasn’t there, but I read about it. The half marathon was cancelled. So, some people went out and ran 13.1 miles in the middle of their multi-day running adventure, because they wanted to feel they earned their Dopey medals…
And there was soooo much back and forth on running message boards.
Some people were like, “Disney gave me no choice! They cancelled it. And I still wanted to finish. Therefore I went and did it on my own. And I’m counting myself as a Dopey finisher because I did the mileage – even at the location – on the day I was supposed to. That’s gotta be enough.” (I’m inclined to agree with them…)
But then others chimed in. “So you ran around 13 miles? Even with a group of people, that’s a training run, my friend. Races are races for a reason. There’s adrenaline. There’s order. You can’t count every time you run a half or marathon distance as doing a race. That’s ridiculous.”
And I can see that side too.
To me, there was no magical consensus as to the “right” answer. People are choosing to view it however they want.
But because there is so much controversy around the idea of counting it, I chose not to run 26.2 in Clearwater by myself and count it as a marathon.
I do not begrudge or judge the people who do. Again, I’m more in that camp than the other one.
But because I’m doing a gigantic project (and it’s for charity), I don’t want anything that happens to have an asterisk next to it of any reason why it maybe wouldn’t be counted as actually real.
For me, I thought that day could be better used to catch up on sleep – which is what I did.
As far as the t-shirt and medal, my best guess is that I’m going to give it to charity – unless I decide to display it anyway (in however I display all the medals for the 882 project) for the memory of the race that wasn’t.
And that’s when I tried to slow down, and still be nice, and just say calmly that I really believed him that word probably did get out quickly in Clearwater. But the people who most needed to know as quickly as possible were the out-of-towners (because they have more plans to potentially change).
Aaaaaanyway, even when I said how the email would’ve helped the people who needed it most, he just told me that he bet I was one of only a few people – and that most people who traveled probably came on Friday. (The race was on Sunday.)
And I said that of course I don’t work for the city or the race. So, I don’t have the data to back this up, but anecdotally, at my hotel, there were numerous people I’d met who’d left for Clearwater after 11:30am (the time he knew of the cancellation).
And he still didn’t really care. No matter what, he was right.
So, we just have difference of opinion on which I guess we just can’t meet in the middle.
I stand firm that based on all races I’ve ever done, email is used as the main communication form. (I set up an entire email address that I just use for race registrations because I know how many katrillions of times they email you.)
I’ve had races cancel before. I’ve had races move the start times because of weather advisories. And do you know what’s happened every single time? I’ve gotten an email. (Or 2. Or 5…. Sometimes they reeeeeally wanna drive it home.)
Anyway…. I was accidentally about to re-lay-out my points here. But you’ve heard them. I think you get the gist.
So, I dunno. The point is, it was a bummer. I could’ve been with my friends in DC, not rushing off, not wasting money. But alas, I was not.
I do always adore any chance to sleep in a hotel bed, though. And I looooved the amazing breakfast at my dope hotel. (Residence Inn for the win.)
p.s. What did I ultimately do with the medal and stuff? Well… here’s “part 3” (if they were separated out):
Some people decided to do their mileage that morning to “earn” their medal. (Quotes because that’s how people have been phrasing it – not because I’m making a value judgement on whether that’s real or not.)
Now, a smart person would’ve immediately corrected course and figured out the race within a two-hour radius that day and done that one.
And someone did point out that race on Facebook. And I started to look into it a little. But I was tired and didn’t know the easiest way to go so far – seemed too expensive to take a rideshare vehicle. And I was so tired, I didn’t think it would’ve been super safe for me to get get a car and drive it. And on and on and on. Blah blah blah – stuff that could’ve been figured out, but I didn’t.
Instead, I went down and got my packet, and talked with the man from the Facebook comments.
He was nicer in real life. (Of course. People usually are.) But he still held his ground a bit.
He kept explaining that there wasn’t time to send an email until many, many hours later because
a) He had to order and pickup the sign for the expo.
b) Packet pick-up was so swamped that they didn’t have the time during those hours.
…But here are my two issues.
Who cares about printing a sign? Having a sign printed, I feel, is one of the least of your worries. Write something huge in sharpie if you need to. If the sign is keeping you from sending an email – an email is so much more important.
Packet pick-up is now a moot thing. There’s not even a reason to have it anymore. My feeling was that if people had actually known the race was cancelled that I would assume only half or even fewer people would actually show up. (Because why would they?)
Basically, we just had very differing views of the situation. His view was that he was trying to problem solve as fast as possible, and to him the way to problem solve was to turn the race into a “virtual race.”
It sounded like he made the assumption everyone would still want to do it – they’d still want their shirt and medal and would just do the mileage on their own.
I mean, okay. I guess I kinda sorta see that, maybe. But I’m not paying tons of money to fly to Florida just to get a medal for a virtual race. That seems very silly and kind of defeats the purpose of a virtual race…
Also, as he re-explained to me how a bunch of people who do most (or all) of his races are his Facebook friends, and that word spread quickly among the Florida crowd.
I was going to try to write out here how I felt or how that conversation went… It’s so much easier to just post the screenshots.
I didn’t really super want to get my shirt and medal for this race, because what in the world am I going to do with it?
But, I was already all the way there in Florida within walking distance of the start. I might as well go down there and grab my stuff – especially since I was still up at 5:30am after all the all-night complaining/commiserating haha.
I didn’t want my second race weekend into the project to be me procrastinating. I know how hard this year is gonna be. And this is a full marathon. So, I need to get these miles in…
Well…
I get to the airport just baaaaaaarely in time. In fact, not even in time. Because I feel like a total jerk weaving through all these lovely people in pink hats at security. “Hi! I’m so sorry! It was so hard getting through the march. I have 25 minutes ’til my plane leaves. Could I pretty please cut?” And everyone was so so so sweet about it. (Of course everyone was in a fantastic giving mood after such a lovely heartening day.)
And I know that I always let the people in a rush go through. I know it’s not the end of the world, but I still felt bad doing it. But I did. Because I had to. And thankfully people allowed it.
And I made it in time.
Then I got on the plane.
And there happened to be a woman on my flight who was already sitting (which I was in the backed up line in the aisle) who was doing the race! And she told me she heard a rumor it might have been cancelled.
What?! I wondered. We didn’t really get a chance to go into it because the line started moving and I moved forward away from her seat.
So, I checked my emails to see if I’d been alerted. Nope. Checked the official race website to see if there was any notice on that. Nope. I even gave twitter a quick check. Nothing there either.
Okay then. Well, it’s almost certainly not cancelled then, right?
I know sometimes rumors get slightly out of hand and spread a little. And runners can get nervous sometimes. (After all, we train and pay to do these races, and make plans that surround them, and tell our friends and families.)… So, anything that threatens the weekend we had planned doesn’t feel so super great.
So, I think a rumor has just spread. But it’s gotta be fine…
I hope.
I sleep through the flight. Get to the airport and then book it on down to the hotel. (I wanted to get there as fast as possible, because I just wanted as much sweet sweet sleep before the race as I could get.)
And when I checked in, the front desk clerk told me, “You know the race is cancelled, right?”
WHAT?!
I ended up running into some runners in the lobbies. Everybody was upset. One woman even checked out and just left for the airport – even knowing she couldn’t get another flight for like 6 hours, at least. “I just don’t want to be here anymore.” And she left.
It was fun to commiserate, at least. And since we didn’t have to be up early, a bunch of us stayed up pretty late.
Once I got to my room, I took a little looksie on Facebook to see if anybody was talking about everything.
So, the women’s march was insanely ridiculously unbelievably crowded. And it was really hard to weave our way through the crowd back to Fareed’s house – but we did.
I basically had enough time to pee and grab my bag and get out – because I had to catch my flight.
By the time we got back to his place, there was basically no room for error.
Taking public transport was gonna take too long. Phones weren’t working quite as well, I think, because of the incredible amount of people overrunning DC all using their phones at once.
So, I couldn’t even get my uber app to open. So, I tried Lyft. And because of the giant(!) (GIANT!) surge prices, it was going to be $200(!) to get to the airport.
It was going to cost me more to get to the airport than it was to fly from DC to Tampa. (Eeesh.)
But at that point, I really had no other options. It was very cute because Fareed and friends went into overdrive googling and trying other apps, seeing if we could call a cab, all of that. And we couldn’t get ahold of a cab company. It was too late for a Super Shuttle. I was out of options.
And at that point, even though I did not want to spend that money, I’d already registered for the marathon, and booked the hotel, and bought some plane tickets.
Actually, because it was a pretty inexpensive trip (and my outbound plane ticket could be changed, because it was Southwest…), and because I knew I had room in the schedule for other races later… I almost just gave up and stayed in DC and called it a day.
Anyway, we went out and honestly kinda sorta had no idea where we needed to go (ish). I mean, my friends are super knowledgeable about DC. But it just felt like once we got to where we thought we needed to go it was so crowded that nobody could see the monitor anyway, so we just kept going around to different places.
And nobody seemed to truly be able to tell when the march actually started – since we couldn’t see or hear a monitor. And then we saw some people going down some streets chanting. So, like, is that chanting and marching just happening? …Or, is the march officially starting and all?
(Eventually we did make it to a monitor where we could see and hear, and we saw the last speaker. And then went forward for the official march part.)
It was amazing to see so many fantastic signs and outfits.
And it was really cool to have so many men there being truly supportive with incredible signs, and chanting and all of that. I know that it’s so annoying when people praise the men too much for a march put on by women… But when a group of people from the group doing the oppressing comes out to support the oppressed group and stand alongside with them… It was special. And helpful. And I appreciated it. And I loved hearing a sea of mean around me as the chant, “Her body, her choice” (echo) “My body, my choice” happened.
It was a really magical day and I am so honored that I got to be there for a part of history.Now, I just need to get one of those pink hats!
Friday night, I ended up working late. So, I didn’t have time to go home and grab a bag or anything (like I thought I would)… I mean, I almost packed before work. I just didn’t think I’d be getting out at 1am.
So, I went in the clothes I had figuring I could get through a crazy exciting/full weekend. (I mean, stores exist, right?)
I rushed out of work close to 1am, and got to the Port Authority – which was packed with people going down to DC.
One of the Greyhound workers was telling me that apparently they have 3 buses that usually do that route through the night (on a normal tonight). Tonight? Over 20.
We all filled the buses and went on our way.
Once I got to DC, there were people all over Union Station at such an early time of morning/night. It was so cool to see people on the ground making signs and new friends. I liked hearing empowering conversations and feeling great energy.
I headed to my friend Fareed’s house, and on the way I stopped and bought a couple of women’s marches shirts. (See? I didn’t need to pack clothes after all! :-))
(woman from union station in the morning)
I went and took and quick shower, and dropped off my bag (because of all the rules of the march of not being allowed to have a bag with you unless it was very small or see-through, etc.).
I didn’t realize that he and his roommates and gotten a whole group together. It was so cute seeing everybody in the morning milling about his house, looking out for each other. People packed each other snack bags and made signs for themselves and each other. I gave Sheeva (Fareed’s sister) on of my shirts.
A bunch of us wrote in sharpie on our arms the phone number of a place that could give legal help if we were arrested… I did it, but thought it was a wee bit silly of an idea because:
a) I couldn’t imagine being arrested for peacefully protesting.
b) I could only imagine the police being super helpful if I were arrested.
…And that means I’m super privileged. And I guess I was slightly worried that if I wrote the number on my arm, I’d be looking ridiculous, like someone knowing she’s privileged taking extra steps to “look like a protestor.”
But since I really didn’t know what was gonna go down, I wrote the number on my arm.
[Spoiler alert: Nothing “went down,” but this is where I’ll pick up tomorrow!]
I’m running 882 race miles in a year to represent the 882 Americans sexually assaulted every *day*. (Statistics from RAINN.) We will get into this more later, but *most importantly:
TO DONATE:
I explain in a moment why there are 3 options, but I want to give you the links first:
1) To donate to Peace Over Violence (a fantastic organization in Los Angeles), go RIGHT HERE! 🙂.
Or text AURORARUNS to 41444.
2) To donate to the Crime Victim’s Treatment Center (a wonderful place in New York City) RIGHT HERE 🙂.
3) To donate to RAINN (Rape Abuse and Incest National Network – so, as it says in the title, a national organization) go RIGHT HERE! 🙂.
*Important note: I just want to be super duper clear that not a single penny goes toward any of my expenses when it comes to running. None of your money pays for a race entry, a flight, a hotel, nothing. It all goes straight to the charities doing great work. Thanks! (So, go on and give! (Links above).)
Now, onto why there are 3 – I am giving 3 options because I know people feel differently about whether they’d rather their money go to a big national organization or a smaller local one.
While I love and believe in RAINN, and I think important things get done at a national level, I also think that smaller local places can sometimes really feel the difference a lot more with this amount of money.
I do believe in small and local places. And as someone who lives in New York and Los Angeles, I was happy to find places on both coasts I really, really believe in.
And if you live on one of those coasts and want to see your money go into your own community, bam! Go for it.
(Or even if you don’t live there, still feel free to give to either!)
But not all of you live in New York or Los Angeles. While I believe helping a woman (or any survivor) anywhere is helping women (and other survivors) everywhere, I also could see how you wouldn’t want to put your resources in a local place where you don’t live (where you may not feel the return as much). So, I’m happy to give RAINN as an option, because they’re very helpful too!
Now let’s get more into the details of everything!
WHAT:What’s my new project? Well, thank you for asking! I’m running 882 miles in a year to represent the 882 American’s sexually assaulted every day. That’s right. It will take a year to represent the people sexually assaulted every day. (That’s one every 98 seconds – statistics from RAINN.)
882 miles is the equivalent of running from Los Angeles to El Paso, Texas or from New York City to Milwaukee, WI. (Or it’s running over 33 marathons or over 67 half marathons in one year… That’s an extra 15 half marathons from my last running project (or an extra 200 almost miles).
WHO am I raising money for? All 3 organizations are established 501(c)(3) organizations with great track records.
Peace Over Violence (Los Angeles) an organization helping victims of sexual assault and domestic violence for over 46 years. They work on prevention and on helping survivors. You can read more about what they do here.
On a personal level, When I was sexually assaulted last year, and having the hardest time dealing with it, I called a national helpline [RAINN’s] that happened to route me to Peace Over Violence because of my area code. And the volunteer there was SO helpful.
I had recently moved to New York, and being that this organization is west coast based, she didn’t have resources on hand. But she asked if it would be okay if she called me later. So, she did research and found different options of places that may be able to help me…
And she followed up with me again about a week later to make sure I went and got help. When she called me, I hadn’t yet reached out to any of those places, because, well, I was pretty depressed, and even reaching out for help felt like a lot of work. But this sweet volunteer checked in on me and made sure that I got into some good hands, and got help and got therapy and all of that.
I’ve read about experiences other women had there, and I’ve been helped personally. I really believe in Peace Over Violence, and am happy to raise money for them.
Crime Victim’s Treatment Center (New York)
This place is amazing. It’s New York based and if you know a victim of sexual assault in New York, I can wholeheartedly recommend you send them there.
They offer individual therapy, group therapy, even acupuncture. They have a psychiatrist in case you need to be evaluated for medications. Basically anything you need in your recovery, they can either help you, or they can help you find it.
I’m hesitant to talk too much about my treatment out here in New York, because I’m still going through it. But I can say that the staff at the Crime Victim’s Treatment Center is amazing, and they’re basically saving my life. I have seen firsthand the work they do, and I feel 100% confident that money going toward them is money worth donating. (And I would love to see them get tons of money!)
You can read more about everything they offer here.
RAINN (National) RAINN was how I found out about any of this stuff in the first place. It’s the immediate place I turned when I needed help. It’s important to have one hub that can help lead you to these places you may otherwise not know about… Plus, they obviously do soooo much in addition to that. This is a famous organization, so I’m sure you probably know some about them already. But in case you don’t, check them out here.
WHY did I choose this running project? Well, I ran 52 half marathons in 52 weeks after open-heart surgery plus a year in-and-out of the hospital for a weird congenital heart defect. That was the way I knew how to deal with this life-altering thing that was hard for me to deal with. And now that another life-alerting hard-to-deal-with thing has happened, this is the best way I know how to deal with it… I dream of someday volunteering with survivors of sexual assault. I am not to that point yet. I am still in a therapy program. I am still triggered too often. I know that I could not be a rock solid steady volunteer that these people need… So, I can’t help one-on-one yet, but I can run for sexual assault survivors. I hope it helps others – and hopefully also helps me to feel whole and strong again! [Rargh!]
As far as I know, that covers everything. If somehow I missed something, please let me know! Write a comment, or send me an email to WriteToAurora [at] gmail [dot] com.
Oh, yeah, and WHERE do you donate? (The links are up earlier in the post. But since we’ve gotten so far down here, let me give ’em to you again):
1) To donate to the Crime Victim’s Treatment Center (a wonderful place in New York City) [GO HERE ].
2) To donate to Peace Over Violence (a fantastic organization in Los Angeles), go RIGHT HERE! 🙂.
Or text AURORARUNS to 41444.
3) To donate to RAINN (Rape Abuse and Incest National Network – so, as it says in the title, a national organization) go RIGHT HERE! 🙂.
It would really, really mean a lot to me if you give. Every tiny bit helps. And the more money we get now, hopefully the more people will pay attention… And the more people pay attention, hopefully the more money we get! So, please give right now! [Click those links!]
And tell your friends!
(And you can follow along with progress here.) xoxoxo
[Edited to add: This hadn’t been announced quite yet at the time, but these were the first race of Project 882.]
I’ve done Rock ‘n’ Roll Arizona a few times now. And I’m sorry, I don’t know how much more new I have to say.
I stayed with a super nice family. I struggled a bit on the half distance which isn’t a great sign for a full year of this. But yeah, I really have nothing new to say. I’m sorry. A sort blog post for a short girl. *shrugs*
It probably should’ve dawned on my that Times Square would take a whole lot of cleanup – but I don’t think I realized how much cleanup.
I went to view the ball at 3am, to be in Times Square snapchatting my friends in California during New Year their time.
And there was a crane taking down a stage and all right there around my intersection were 3 people with leaf-blowers and two street-sweeping vehicles.
I could still hear the sweet-sweepers going down my street at 7am.
Also, that photo of the street above is from a full day later. This is taken deep into the night of the first/morning of the second.
In addition, it’s funny if you look up, there is confetti lining the bottom of the balcony of the Marriott Marquis (in the same way salt would line a glass of some drink). A safety officer in Times Square told me that confetti will randomly fall for months – a little here, a little there in certain winds.
He also told me that’s where some people stood to drop the confetti. I don’t know where I thought confetti came from, but I didn’t realize it was people hurling it out from roofs/balconies around Times Square. I guess I thought there was one big machine or something.
Anyway, I don’t have much else to say. I guess just, even with a huge crew working all hours, this cleanup takes a whiiiile. (There’s still plenty of confetti in the entryway to my building.
I asked someone why he left Times Square (someone from France, by the way! Traveled across an ocean, and still didn’t stay in Times Square proper for New Year’s).
He said that since all of the performances are meant for television, not the crowd, that you can hardly see anything. And you’re squished with no idea what’s even going on and not really being entertained… That was interesting to me.
As it got closer to midnight, I decided my best bet was the roof.
Police actually moved people farther back than the original barricades (from which you still couldn’t see the ball). I saw some people try to make a run for it and cops stop them in their tracks. It was getting serious around midnight…
In fact, I was a little worried the officers patrolling the streets all night might get antsy if someone was on a roof. But thankfully everyone started coming out on their roofs (including the people across from me). And then I was no longer worried.
I got to hear the huge countdown and see the people, but not the ball.
BUT, confetti made it over to us with no issue. It was a beautiful storm of confetti. While there were people on roofs around me (and we all shouted Happy New Year to each other), I was the only person on the specific roof where I was standing…
And it was this weird, interesting, super cool, surreal feeling to get to dance alone on this roof – with all this space, almost in this fun confetti vacuum – while technically in the company of thousands of people. As I spun around in the confetti, Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” played and it felt like the world sang along. And I just thought, “Yeah. We’re really here. I am really dancing on the rooftop of my dream apartment right smack dab in the middle of New York City, being covered by all this gorgeous confetti (with some balloons flying in to).
I always thought about watching the ball drop. I never realized there was this incredibly adjacent cool experience that I wanted… The moment I realized I could have it was the moment I got it.
When I got home from work Friday, it took forever to walk through Times Square going home. Stuff was already happening on the stages around 8pm on the 30th. I don’t know if it was rehearsal or what. But crowds were insane (even though we weren’t kept out of anywhere by barricades yet – many barricades were set up, but not all, and no streets were off-limit as far as I could tell… I don’t know when that starts).
There’s more than one countdown! There’s a countdown to the ball being lit. (I didn’t know that was a ceremonious part. I just heard it from my apartment.) And there are countdowns to the hour practically every hour. I’m not sure why – practice, celebrating in other time zones… I don’t now. I just know I heard a countdown over and over and over again.
As far as I could tell, the street to the side (the 40s) work as a staging area! How did it never occur to me – someone who literally makes her living working in entertainment – that all of the performers and crew members and such would need a place to go for equipment or costumes or even food or a bathroom. There were multiple trailers of some kind on my street. And when I was walking around around 3-something, I saw a crew hanging out on my street as well.
It’s a bit of a weird feeling that it’s a zoo just not all that far to your left, and a semi-zoo way down the street to your right. But there are so many barricades and so much is blocked off that it’s almost like a ghost town right in front of you…
I went downtstairs and walked in the area I was allowed to a few more times in the night. And I walked on the roof again. There has to be a way to see it, right? (Well, I didn’t figure it out.)
One more thing that was interesting to me was that I saw multiple people in our little barricaded area with the Planet Fitness hats that seemed to be being given out in Times Square! (Also, for such a cheap gym, what a huge marketing budget, right?)
