Bragging Rights...

Pre-reading caveat...

I AM NOT AN ATHLETE...

See, here's the thing, though, I have always wanted to be...and in particular, I have always wanted to be a runner. I don't know what it is about the sport of running that I find so compelling. Maybe it's that you can run anywhere, anytime...it is the quintessential individualist sport (as one who doesn't play nice with others...and by that I mean I'm not any good at anything...I don't like being subjected other people's ridicule and competitive nature...might I also add I blame a lot of jr. high scarring on this particular fact...), maybe it's that my grandfather ran the Boston Marathon, oh, you know, a couple of times, no big deal...maybe it's the fact that I look really great in spandex (okay, fine, maybe not so much that one) maybe it's the fact that runners (distance runners in particular) have copious amounts of self-control and discipline...of which I have none...could be any number of things.

But, the honest truth is I am just not genetically disposed to athletics...running in particular. I'm 5'4" I have a stride of approximately 6 inches and I have to buy running shoes with soles made of tempered steel to correct the pronation in my gate because my arches are so high you could drive a train through them...See, if Botticelli was convening a team of some sort I would have been his first round draft pick, but I'm pretty sure Bill Bowerman wouldn't have let me carry his team's towels for fear I might infect his runners with curvaceous slowness, or at least bad knees or something...by all accounts me and running are just not meant to be...

For the visual learners in the group...

This
Not ThisEverybody still with me? A seriously sad plight indeed. I never thought I would be able to run any sort of distance...and of course sprinting was just out. Some people have fast twitch muscles, some people have slow twitch muscles...I'm just lucky if I can get mine to twitch. Now, don't get me wrong, I take good care of myself (with the one unfortunate exception of a particularly depressing year of college fueled by a lot of Law & Order and toast)...I go to the gym, I lift weights, I do aerobics, kickboxing, yoga, and did dance and cheerleading in high school...I'm not a total lot cause, I just always believed running was not my calling because let's face it, I'm shaped like classic glassware, and I just always figured my joints couldn't handle it, because...well...I guess 'cause my mom told me they couldn't, and why question momma?

Anyway...the bottom line is, this weekend I did something to prove myself wrong. This weekend, on Saturday, the 15th of November, I RAN A HALF MARATHON. That's right folks...13.1 miles...and I ran the whole way.

Remember...

This
Not ThisNow, I know for some of you this is not a big deal...10 miles is like a leisure run for you. Again, a little more context...after we ran the mile for gym class I had to excuse myself, and went and laid down on the cold cement floor in the locker room (I know, you're asking me "isn't the floor in the locker room disgusting? to which I will answer you..."ummm, yeah") because I nearly blacked out. Again...running, not my calling.

Still With Me...?

ThisNot This

Since moving out to DC I've just decided that it's time I do a few things I always told myself I could never do. One of those things included running a road race of some significant length. Now, to this point the closest I've come was my office 5K...not that 3.1 miles is something to scoff at...but it just wasn't enough. Why I felt the compulsion to jump to a half-marathon rather than a 10K or even a 10 miler I have no idea...but I did...and the craziest part is...

I liked it.
(okay, fine...I liked most of it..miles 9-12 I could have done without...but you get the idea)

No kidding. I had a blast. The race was so fun, and I actually found myself smiling as I chugged along mile marker after mile marker. Maybe I was smiling because I knew I was about to accomplish something I thought was impossible...maybe it was because the inhabitants of Richmond had come out in full force and were camped out on their lawns waving flags and blowing noisemakers cheering on perfect strangers towards the finish line...maybe it was the satisfaction of passing that really fit looking African guy (don't worry, I'm pretty sure he was injured as there is no way I would have passed him otherwise..and yes, I know I'm profiling here...forgive me)...regardless of what it was...I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Particularly the finishing part...


The Richmond Half Marathon winds its way through downtown Richmond, VA as well as through some of the surrounding neighborhoods. The bulk of the course is quite flat with some barely intelligible changes in incline as you go along. My personal opinion on hills is that while they are a beast to get up, the pay off of getting to run with gravity on the other side is totally worth it...and by about mile 11 I was really ready to see some downhill. As I came around the final bend in the course and I could actually see the finish line and realized I was standing atop a fairly decent sized hill (possibly the only one in Richmond) but wasn't quite sure how I got there because you don't remember running up anything that significant...at that point, however, I didn't much care because I'd just run 12.6 miles and could see the goal at the bottom of that hill. It felt like I was flying.


I was only conscious enough of my feet to try and keep myself from completely eating it on the downhill (does it still count as a "strong finish" if you roll across the finish line?) but I ran as fast as I could (yes, I think I even managed what would qualify as a sprint). When I crossed the finish line I was completely out of breath, but so overjoyed to have finished strong that I was nearly in tears. As I gasped for breath one of the men handing out medals asked "Are you okay?" and all I could get out between gasps was "No, I'm great!"

Cheezy? Totally. But it's true. I don't know what felt better...knowing that I didn't have to run anymore or knowing that I had just proved myself wrong. In the end all the training, all the blisters, and all the sweat, tears, and pain that went into preparation were worth it. I didn't set any records, that's for sure (as in, the guy who won the marathon ran it 22 minutes faster than I ran the half) but I did something I had always told myself I could never do. I ran 13.1 miles. On top of that, I enjoyed running 13.1 miles. I'm really not too worried about what all the pounding is doing to my knees...my brain on the other hand is a completely different story...

Many kudos to all those who pushed me through, encouraged me, and expressed their admiration at my apparent insanity. I couldn't have done it without you. Big time props to Josh M for signing up for the dang thing with me and training despite some serious aches, pains, and scheduling issues...you were a champ and our weekend in Richmond will forever live in infamy...So, the bottom line is, never write yourself off. You may find you actually enjoy doing something you never thought you were capable of, and that it teaches you a lot about yourself while you're doing it. You may even cultivate a little self control and discipline along the way (not saying I did...I definitely had a milkshake to celebrate...I'm just saying some people might...)

So, as it turns out I'm kind of hooked and am looking forward to the next one. Should be ready to go as soon as all the scabs heal over...

Oh, and by the way...

ThisNot ThisThere's crazy, and then there's suicidal...I'll stick with just plain crazy, thanks very much.

Fire In The Hole...

This one you have to see to believe...

So, I love living in DC because there is the craziest variety of stuff to do around here. One night you can go watch b-boys battle in a breakdancing competition held in a church in a neighborhood in northeast and the next night you can go to La Boheme at the Kennedy Center and enjoy the rest of the evening strolling along the Potomac waterfront. There is no end to the things you can do in this area.

Not only is DC full of totally varied activities, but you have the entire East Coast within just a few hours...from the Hamptons to the Hills of West Virginny...you can do and see it all and don't have to go that far out of your way.

This past weekend, however, may have topped my list of craziest and most fun things I have done while living out here. Last Saturday's activity definitely takes the cake...or pie, rather...punkin' pie.

Last Saturday, several of my friends and I got up at the crack of dawn...okay, pre-dawn, let's be honest, there is no semblance of sunlight at 5:30 in the morning...which seems particularly cruel on a Saturday...anyway...tanget...sorry...

We got up early and headed to Bridgeville, Delaware. What's that? You've never heard of it? Well there's a reason...There's NOTHING there...Except of course for the annual World Championship Punkin Chunkin! The Punkin Chunkin (heretofor referred to as "the Chunkin" or "PC") takes place annually in Bridgeville, and is, by all accounts, the biggest deal of the year. The point of said Chunkin is basically to build a contraption for the sole purpose of flinging, rocketing, or basically propelling a pumpkin as far as you possibly can. The competition is broken into three categories...Catapaults, Trebuchets, and Pneumatic Guns. Let me tell you, if you've never seen a pumpkin come rocketing out of a steel pipe at 200 mph and subsequently fly over 3,000 feet, you are missing out.
Now, don't get me wrong, I grew up in a small town...The rodeo every year was a big deal and there was an inordinate amount of drunken beligerence and debauchery that went along with that whole scene (my parents, being the responsible folks they were felt it wasn't the place for a little girl, and thus I was never allowed to compete in any of the rodeo events like my other little tyke farmhand friends...I still feel this is why I never claimed my title in mutton busting...but I'm not bitter). Anyway, the point is, I've been around rough crowds and seen my fair share of tailgating and associated activites, but this brought things to a whole new level...

On entrance to the Chunkin, we were greeted by what appeared to be the entire student body of Bridgeville Jr. High School, along with a few booster club moms sprinkled in for good measure and supervision (?) directing traffic. By all appearances they had been there since about 6 am.

Not only had the traffic directors been there since about 6am, it seems that so had the tailgaters. There were people in RV's, pickup trucks, vans, you name it, they brought it. It looked like some of these people had been camped out for days just waiting for the PC events to begin. Not only had these folks been camped out since whenever, but that's about the time they started drinking (beer of choice, Natural Ice or "Natty Ice" to anyone who's ever been to college party where the point was not to enjoy the finer bouquets of an alcoholic beverage, but to get wasted as quickly and as cheaply as possible...so I've been told anyway).

In addition to the beer of choice, there were definitely some popular clothing options...camouflage, overalls, hunters orange, cut off denim, and hard hats.

So, the first few seem obvious...tailgating, public intoxication, mass gatherings in fallow soy bean fields in Delaware...but "why the hard hats?" you ask. Well, I'll tell you why...Because on the off occasion these pumpkin-flinging contraptions will have a misfire. What this usually results in is the gourd in question being flung backwards into or over the crowd of onlookers..."isn't that dangerous?" you ask...to which I say, "ummm, yeah, it is. " I was pretty much afraid for my life during the entire Trebuchet competition after watching one of the machines completely self destruct in a flurry of snapping cables and cracking timbers (no one was hurt, thank goodness) and then seeing yet another of these modified war machines fling its payload backwards over the crowd of onlookers and into the fairgrounds area where normal carnival type activities were taking place...good thing there were no innocent and unsuspecting children in that area...oh wait...

Luckily we all made it out unscathed, and managed to escape falling victim to even one stray seed.

Some highlights from the day included BBQ for lunch (they just do it better in places where people have fewer teeth, I really don't understand it, but I'm working on a theory), watchingwhat appeard to be the entire population of Bridgeville High School act as the pumpkin chasers (basically a fleet of them out on 4-wheelers sitting in the field waiting for the pumpkins to drop out of the sky so they can measure the distance of the chunk...again you may ask "isn't that dangerous?" and again I will answer you..."ummm, yeah."), playing "spot the minority" (not a lot of them out in Bridgeville, and yes I was among Asian friends so it was okay...geez, so sensitive), and, of course, seeing what was basically a huge airsoft gun shoot a pumpkin 4,482 feet...yeah, that's right almost A MILE...a pumpkin...like I said...you haven't lived until you've seen that.

By the end of the day we were completely exhausted and had watched about all the Chunkin we could handle...despite the enticing invitation to stay and watch that night's fireworks display (billed as second to none in the world...imagine that...move over Paris...back off New York, Tokyo, DC...Bridgeville is about to show you what's up) we decided it would probably be a good idea to get on the road before all the drunken tailgaters, so we headed back to what appeared a much tamer DC.

All in all, it was a very fun and unique day, and I think I have definitely gained a greater appreciation for all the types of personalities that make this world a much more interesting place.