A million dollar idea came to me in a dream last night. What if all the drama in the NBA was played out through a comic book? Lebron’s Decision, Phil Jackson’s Retirement, The Lock Out, The Chris Paul Trade, and the list goes on and on. I woke Michael up to tell him my idea, and he said Marvel stole my idea two years ago.
http://www.digitalbusstop.com/espn-marvel-comic-covers-for-the-nba/
my new years resolution
replace ashtrays with vegetation
i hope they don’t die
“It’s a true fact.”
ohhh, not just a regular fact…
It was awful. Plain awful. I mean really, what can you say? I ran 26.2 miles voluntarily, because I thought it would be fun? So I can tell everyone how superior I am? It was the hardest thing I ever tried to do. So that’s what I’ve been up to the past 6 months. My training regiment consisted of 8 miles twice to three times a week. I had been ramping up my long runs every other weekend, up until two weeks prior to the Marathon. My longest run was 20 miles in 3 hours 10 minutes and I was feeling great. There were no indications of exhaustion, or over exertion. I truly believed at mile 20 that another 6.2 miles wouldn’t be a problem. (Yeah that was a lot of numbers, and any math wizard would compute that level of training to be … <calculating> …spectacular.)
So my initial goal was 4 hours. If Darin on the biggest loser could weighed 400 pounds and 6 months later run the marathon in a little over 4 hours, what excuse did I have. At one point I was even looking at qualifying times for Boston, just to keep in the back of my head. Of course I had to be realistic. Natalie was running her 22nd marathon and had been finishing at 4 hours consistently. Me? I could count the number of times I’ve been to the gym on one hand. What hope could I have to compete with that kind of experience?
I woke up at 3:50 that morning, had my peanut butter sandwich and we left the house at 4:15. Six months of work, all boiling down to one day. I couldn’t think of much else besides “I wonder why people find running so addicting. I guess I’ll find out today.” The first corral began at 6:15 and I was with the 4:15 pacer in corral 16. The horn blew and I started at my normal pace. I picked out a group of boys to draft, but they were horrible. They couldn’t keep a consistent pace so I ditched them before mile 1. As soon as I ditched them I found my running partner. She was in her 40s weaving in and out of the crowd. She was perfect, until mile 4 when she decided to run the half marathon. Then I was all alone again.
I looked down at my phone and I was making good time. REALLY good time. 9 minutes per mile - I was flying. Even coming up the 163 “hill” was unnoticeable. At the half marathon mile marker, my time was at 2:01. However, something troubled me. My phone said I had ran 13.4 miles, when clearly the sign said 13.1. Was I training with faulty equipment? Well, there’s nothing I could do about that sign. I could either accept the millage since it was an official race, or I could accept the challenge that they were making us run 26.8 miles!
Marathoners talk about an imaginary “wall”. For a long time I thought the “wall” was kind of like the Bermuda Triangle. You couldn’t physically pinpoint its GPS location, but weird things happen when you find it. An article I read on “avoiding the wall” talked about envisioning the race in three parts. The first 10 miles should be your warm up. Miles 10-20 should be getting into your stride. As you approach the final 6.2, you should be imagining that you are approaching the start line to the real race. As I passed mile marker 20, I finished my second and final GU pack that I had been nursing since mile 13. And that was when I saw the sign.
“The first 20 miles is all LEGS! The last 6 miles is all HEART!” and it started to get emotional. The last six months was in preparation for this moment, all those early morning weekend runs, and weekday runs when I had to drag on my running clothes. All those hours in the gym and on the road. Had I done everything in my power to prepare for this moment? Whatever happens, it was undeniable how momentous this moment would be. My time was 3:15.
Mile 21. A jolt runs up my right leg. Goddamn a Charlie Horse. That pain I’ve had once in my childhood, in the middle of the night that bites into your leg and won’t let go. I can’t shake it. I step aside and stretch breathing like a woman about to bear a child. I’ve come too far to stop now, so I am dragging my right leg behind me determined to run it off.
Mile 22. Crap. Yes, I have to poop. I’m on the John and look down at my phone. I’ve been running for 3 hours and forty minutes. My legs are cramped. My blisters have popped. I’m pretty sure I’m going to lose a toenail in the next couple miles. My back and shoulders are sunburned. I am hungry, tired, and exhausted. So exhausted I am not hovering over the public toilet seat. I am sitting on it. And in too much pain to get up. My face wrinkles in agony and I am on the verge of tears, but I suck it up and remind myself I am not a quitter.
Mile 22.5. I am calling the six people that are probably waiting for me at the finish line and no one is picking up. I hadn’t seen anyone on the entire race course. I was desperate to hear a familiar voice say that I could do it, but no one was picking up. Had no one had come to cheer me on? Such a thought was unbearable at that point. As I shuffled my feet toward mile 23, my heart sank with each step. Was it time to throw in the towel?
Mile 23. Mike, my wonderful boyfriend, runs out of the crowd to run along my side and I burst into tears! “I don’t want to run anymore!” I am hyperventilating. Tears are streaming down my face, and I am so overwhelmed that I am not alone anymore all my feelings spill out. “I’ve been running for four hours. I am in so much pain. I don’t think I can make another 3 miles, when each mile is more painful than the last.” He looks at me and smiles, then points down the road. “You see that? That’s mile 24! Just make it over there and you can see the finish line. I promise you. All you need to do is see the finish line and it will carry you through.” So I suck it up and we run/walk from trash can to pole. Just run to the next can, then we can walk. Okay run to the next pole and we can walk.
Mile 24. Hallelujah! SEA WORLD! AND A WATER STATION! Could it get any better? I down three cups of water and throw one on my face. It is just over four hours.
As I turn the corner and head toward Sea World,
the road across the shore isn’t there.
No.
It stretches back.
Way back.
A fucking mile back to the neck of Fiesta Island.
ARE YOU SHITTING ME RIGHT NOW??
And I am cussing and swearing and crying all over again. Despair is written all over my face, and Mike says it’s closer than I think. That mile was the longest mile of my life.
Mile 25. I am pretty sure the blood in my shoes are dry. I hate these people that are cheering. Yeah great. Come in at the end and expect me to have enough energy to high five you?? I am still unable to put weight on my right leg. I have given up all sympathy for myself as well as all determination to finish. Apathy takes over. If I die, I die. If there is a finish, that’s good too. Either way, I won’t have to run anymore. I am trying to be considerate of these people that are running pass me. I am probably in their way. Oh look, another trash can that I can run to - so many trash cans… they have lost all meaning.
Mile 26.2. 4 hours and 47 minutes. I push my way through the people standing around the finish line and I don’t even want to grab my finishers medal. I just want to sit down. I decide, fuckit. here is good, and I’m about to sit down in the middle of the crowd and a smile starts to form on my face, but then Mike comes along lifts me by his shoulder and says not until I get my medal. I only have enough energy to wrinkle my face in agony once more and I’m all cried out.
There are no shortcuts, no fast-passes, no props or silly rules. The marathon tests the limits of human strength and commitment, allowing us to see what the human body is capable of. There are epic untold tales of men overcoming all obstacles and surprising themselves. It is a test of the human will, potential, strength, agility, speed, and the capacity of the human body.
thousands of birds fell from the sky
i wish this was an isolated incident. however, two days after this event, millions of fish washed up ashore, thousands of crabs were found dead on the beach, and millions of seashells are appearing in pakistan. this is also occurring in south america.
i guess we’re just waiting for the locust?
the people who are covering the case in arkansas want to believe that these dead birds have no connection with the other mass animal deaths around the world. some people say it’s pollution, some say its climate change, and still others say there’s a magnetic shift in which have thrown these animals off their natural alignment. whatever is happening, i hope we will be able to prepare ourselves for what might be the worse.
Last year was a pretty big year. I bought condo. It was the biggest purchase of my life. I think it aged me, like any rite of passage would. Nicole bought a place too, and she too seems much wiser than before. My dad always said that your home will be the best investment you’ll ever make. In the end I thought the only recognizable difference would be that I would make my check out to Wells Fargo Home Mortgage, instead of some landlord who would end up keeping my deposit, but that’s not the case. When you own, there’s a huge difference. My life feels more stable, like most of life’s uncertainties have already been decided, like a rushing river flowing into the deep blue ocean. That’s the best way I can explain it.
Have you met Taylor?
We got her in March. She finally stopped peeing in the house, but still eats things she’s not supposed to. Sometimes I dread coming home, afraid to see what else she’s consumed and destroyed, and yet I love her because sometimes she is the only one who understands me.
I also drove across America. Everyone says you have to do it once. When you decide to take the drive always remember: Your vehicle is your lifeline. Do not drive in the mud.
Besides that, I read some books: Dante’s Inferno, Paradise Lost, The Bell Curve, the Invisible Monster, and Proust. Mardi Gras in New Orleans was cool, and I got to photograph Banksy’s work. I wrote to Post-Secret, zorbed the orb, walked down the Yellow Brick Road, constructed a Halloween costume, saw a koala bear, went white water rafting, and discovered an underwater cave.
Here are my plans for 2011:
Run a Marathon, Learn to Change my Oil, Crush Grape with my Bare Feet, Teach an Illiterate to Read, Adopt a Debate Team, See the Northern Lights, Attend Comic Con, Bake a Souffle, Go Night Diving, Visit Australia, Drink Myself Silly in New Zealand, Learn to Play Bridge, Read Eightfold Teachings, Mush a Dog Sled, Ride the Kingda Ka, Know the periodic table by heart, Light a Fart, Eat Blowfish, Learn Korean, and look into going back to school.
Things to buy in 2011: Rock’N’Roll Marathon Registration, new shoes, dri-fit socks, 24 Hr Fitness Membership, iphone4 with Verizon network (February whoot!), oil change pump, tickets to the grape stomp festival, comic-con tickets (if they will ever get the site to work), plane flight to Australia and New Zealand, ticket to Washington DC with bus pass to New Jersey/New York, pay off the mini, buy a new computer, wooden floors, fix the wall that taylor ate, buy a new couch, a new mattress, and a new dinning room table and chairs.
Life can be simple again.
“where is the iphone4? i need an iphone4. …is it an iphone? if it’s not an iphone why would i want it?” hahaha!!! so true.
it really sux trying to sell anything but the iphone.
“(The HTC) can grant up to three wishes, even if one of those wishes is for an iphone.”
“i don’t care.”
One day my Geodefense addiction will lead Mike to this logical conclusion.
I started watching Avatar: The Last Airbender the anime series. I’ve heard from more than one source that despite the horrible movie, the series is pretty great and it has 4.5 stars on netflix so how bad could it be? If I told you it was produce by Nickelodeon, would you groan? Ah, maybe. I just don’t get how so many people know about this damn series. It’s not like they were watching Nickelodeon and it happened to be the next show. These are grown people who’ve admitted that they’re fans. Anyway, I’m 8 episodes into the first book, and I have to admit, it’s pretty catchy. If you’re an anime-niac, then you’ve probably seen better.
Mike is into Naruto, so when Friday rolls around he’s huddled over his comp downloading the latest episode. Lately, Naruto has rolled out some depressing events and - no joke - Mike will start tearing up. …I want to hold him and tell him everything will be okay, but he’ll push me away and say that I don’t understand. I wish I could catch up but I’m eight years behind and the series is about to end. *sigh*
People who get anime are so cool.
After Avatar, my next series will be Cowboy Bebop. Joy!!
I like it.
