Aurora's Blog

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.

Picking up from yesterday –

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 I 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.

Another some miles down! And onward we go!

Picking up from yesterday –

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.)

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.

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.

And this is where I’ll pick up tomorrow.

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…

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.

[Still catching up!]

[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].

Another 13.1 down. And onward we go!

Picking up from yesterday –

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.

And then, boom, I was off to sleeeeeeeeeeeeep.

Oh goodness, goodness gracious.

This was crazy.

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!

That was sweet of them.

And this is where I’ll pick up tomorrow!

Picking up from yesterday –

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!

My first Divas race! (Finally.)

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).

And this is where I’ll pick up tomorrow!

Picking up from yesterday –

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…

So I took a gamble…

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

Picking up from yesterday –

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…  As we will get into next time.

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…

And this is where I’ll pick up tomorrow!

Picking up from last time –

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 🙂

Picking up from yesterday –

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 – 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…

And I’ll finish this out soon!

Picking up from yesterday –

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.”

And this is where I’ll pick up tomorrow!

Picking up from yesterday –

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 this is where I’ll pick up tomorrow!

Picking up from yesterday –

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.)

And this is where I’ll pick up tomorrow!

Picking up from yesterday –

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.

1. 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.
2. 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.

And this is where I’ll pick up tomorrow!

Picking up from yesterday –

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.

And this is where I’ll pick up tomorrow!

Picking up from yesterday –

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.

And this is where I’ll pick up tomorrow!

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.

But no.

And this is where I’ll pick up tomorrow!

[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*