If Found In A Bar… #LeaveMe #ItsTooColdWindyRainy2Run

Bruh. Las Vegas was a really awful place in a past life. Had to be for the weather to be that damn disrespectful yo. I mean, c’mon! I pay my taxes. I talk to Jesus on occasion about getting my life right. I give Sallie’s henchmen a pint of blood on a regular basis. Like really, did we deserve that????

I know what you’re thinking. It’s like Winter or something. Don’t you expect it to be cold in Winter?

Naw homey, I grew up in California where Winter is for suckas. So, we don’t do the whole “winter” thing in the cold sense of the word. We do it in the fashion sense of the word. You know, northface jackets and timberlands in well air conditioned malls. Because, brrrr.

Okay, seriously, I expected the cold. That’s why I had on my super cute layers and warm-like running gear. As me and #RunningBae took our vegas running selfies and bib photos, we realized that it was going to be another chilly one under the Vegas lights. But we weren’t expecting this.

START: Was that a rain drop? *runner passes with a water bottle in hand* Oh, that must have been condensation from his bottle #ImNotSweatin #MorrisDay.

Mile 1: Nah homey, that’s rain. Like rain…rain. You know, from clouds and ish in the sky, You know, like precipitation. After the condensation step. Remember that?

Mile 2: I’m definitely stopping at the “Welcome To Las Vegas Sign”… *gets in like to take the picture* then *gets my super cute, I’ve only done like 1 mile pose on*

         

Oh Wow! That was a really great picture!

Gurl, I know, right? #sassafras

Mile 3: This. Is. So. Stupid! Why do I come to Las Vegas every year and run? OMG I wanna hurt myself more than I’m already hurting… *big gust of wind pushes me into another runner*

Mile 4: I see where Yolanda got the inspiration for that song. I’m out here running through the storm, Lord. ♫…the storms of life will blow, they’re sure to come and go…they meet me at a time…when I’m cold calm and doing running fine…♪

Mile 5: I think these winds forgot about the …and go… part of the song.

Mile 6: Nope. I quit. I’m going to Walgreens. I’m getting me a ginger ale, a bottle of wine. Some gloves. And some tights. This is stupid and I’m beyond over it. *goes to the bathroom in Walgreens and chats with other runners waiting*

Mile 7: One of these days I’m going to learn to be a quitter. Ahhh! Celia!!! Come Through!!! ♫…ay, no hay que llorar, que la vida es un carnaval, es más bello vivir cantando…♪ Ugh, fine. I’ll get to it then. Why come every time I wanna complain and be a baby the ancestors (I got Latin Ancestors too) be coming for me like this? #WipingTears #SingingAndRunning #YesImBilateral #iMeanLingual #EvelinPickedThisSong #ThanksGurl

Mile 8: I’ve never wanted anything to end more than I wanted this to end.

Mile 9: *gust of wind literally dislodges my headphone from my left ear* #ThereAreNoWords and *clap*clap* #NoMusic

Mile 10: *Mali Music – Walking Shoes comes on* You damn right I’m walking! Eff this. That medal will be there when I get there. Well, except that one time the medal wasn’t there when you got there. DAMMIMT! *running again*

Mile 11: And lookie here. All these over achievers a couple of blocks over taking all my greatness. Running a whole 26.2 miles in the time it takes me to ingest the fluid building up in my lungs – I mean run 13.1 miles. Jerks. #ReallyImpressivePeopleImHatingOnBecauseImNotGreatYet

Mile 12: I’m definitely going to get some more Garrett’s Popcorn. #EarnedIt

Mile 13: This is literally the hardest mile I’ve ever run in my entire life.

Mile 13(0.1): OMG! There is a tenth of a mile more. Just come collect my weary soul and take me home to glory Lord. I’m ready. #TakeMeUpYonder

FINISH: Dude. I’m going to drink a gallon of chocolate milk. And they better have some firm bananas back there. Or there will be hell. I mean, not from me because I have no feeling left in any of my extremities. But suffice it to say, I will type a strongly worded letter within the next week!

Another Vegas experience in the books. I mean, I could go on and on about the weather (and will, because that’s my thing) but it was a great weekend. The weather made this 13.1 miles ridiculously hard, but I suppose that’s the lesson. How bad do you want it? Are you only willing to go out and get it when it’s easy? When the conditions are favorable? When everything is in the right place for you to be successful?

Oh, that’s the only time you want it?

You have got to take the sweet with the salt. And I was hella salty after this one. It’s honestly reminiscent of that very first half marathon. Aside from the wind. There were more points in that first one, and this one in which I was ready to tap out. Like RET-TA-GO!

But something inside of me refuses to quit.

I suppose firsts aren’t the only memorable ones. The tough ones are pretty unforgettable too.

…and I just made another memory.

#15ThingsIn2015 Challenge

5 new states (Louisiana, Texas – 2 down, 3 to go) #iShouldWorkOnThisOne #2MonthsLeft

4 new friends (OldieButNewbie #RunningHubby; My Child; WickedWineRunCrew (6 people!); Ragnar Napa Valley (10 people!); Cuzzo; NotQuiteTwinSister & BruinBuddy – 22 down)

3 new running events (Shamrock Half; St Charles Road Race; Orange County Half; Wicked Wine Run; Ragnar Napa Valley; Let’s Go 510…5k; Monster Dash 5k – 7 down)

2 back-to-back running events (Rock N Roll San Jose 5K & Half; Ragnar Napa Valley & Let’s Go 510…5K, Rock N Roll Las Vegas 5K & Half, 3 down)

1 Half Marathon PR (Rock N Roll San Diego Half! 6 minutes!, Rock N Roll Las Vegas 5K – 35 seconds to spare! – 2 down!)

PRing in San Diego #ItWasEpicHomey

Someone once said that leadership wasn’t about being better than everyone else. But rather, being better than a former self. Your former self, specifically. If one is better than they once were, they may perhaps possess what it takes to be a leader. Humph. Well, perhaps…

So… Year Two of this #EpicSummerRun and I have returned to the precise location where I did just that. I, just a year ago, almost to the day, realized that I was better than my former self. Only I had no idea that was even happening. I had no idea it was a thing. Uh, you know why I was there… #Medals

As such, I PR’d my half marathon time. I PR’d that very first half marathon (ever) time by 32 minutes #Vegas2011 #MedalessMonday #NeverForget and that last half marathon #Vegas2013 before #EpicSummerRun2014 by 17 minutes. I killed those Rock n Roll Las Vegas times! I suppose that I figured that I would be just a runner. Definitely not a good one. Not a runner I would describe as bad either #ImSoPerfect but never one that would be accomplished in a way that a PR would mean something.

Gurl, bye.

There are too many unattended happy hours and concerts in the world to try to be actually great on the pavement. I need more time for all of this.

So, in all the attempting to no be great, I found some greatness. Because, I’m a leader. The Runleader, actually. I kind of do this for fun. And, I encourage other people to do it for (my) fun too. Because, that’s definitely a thing.

I am the Runleader. I didn’t really put much emphasis into that running part, but I have been all over the leading #ImALeo #ItComesNaturally. Encouraging my people to get out there and run! From the runners who don’t know that they are really great runners, to the runners who are mostly walkers, but jog sometimes – eff you! They are great too! Watching them start. And meeting their new selves when they finish. Sore. Tired. Weary. Mentally Spent. Smiling. Medal around the neck. Complete.

I take so much from them. And they have no idea just how much it sustains me. But they don’t always get to see that though. The Runleader has much to do. But, while I’ve been leading, I’ve been doing some running myself.

…and, well, err, shaved 6 minutes off my “fastest” time…no matter how long or short it took me to haul ass 13.1 miles…6 gottdamn minutes is a big deal! 6 minutes? 6 minutes? Not 5 minutes, or 4 minutes, but 6 minutes? *in my A.I. voice* …do you know what could happen in 6 minutes?

You could…

…walk into a 7-11 twice, make a cherry cola slurpee, by a $2 scratch off for your (race)wife, say Hey to the clerk, remember that you forgot to get a ginger ale – grab one, then go back to the ginger ale’s because you want to confirm the price, then you realize you can get 2 of them for $2.22 – and you know your (race)wife is going to say something about spending almost $2 for 1 when you could have paid an additional $0.22 and gotten 2 of them, and you ain’t trying to hear that, so you grab another one, pay for it, get back in your car, and have like a minute to spare.

6 minutes??? Even damn Doug E. Fresh knew what a big deal 6 minutes was…even he needed a 6 minute alert so he could be “on”…6 MINUTES! He was like, Bruh…let me know when I got 6 minutes. I wanna make sure I’m ON. And they were like, Cool…no problem Doug.

Since leadership is about being better than the person you once were, maybe I wasn’t much of a leader because I sure as the sun is shining in the middle kingdom did not expect this. I was like legit surprised when I saw the unofficial time posted. I know Alicia & Dr. Splits were thinking, wheeetttt is wrong with her? because that scream came from my soul like Shug singing for that redemptive hug from Daddie #GetYourHealingShug #IWasThereForThat. Like I just knew that it wasn’t going to be better than anything I’ve done. And I was already looking for excuses while the pages loaded. I’m supposed to be great, but I just “knew” I wasn’t on this day. My knee waasss hurting… I didn’t get enough sleep… I didn’t get a good pre-run stretch in… Perhaps those things were true, but were they the real reasons? All of these obstacles, known and unknown, but really the real one… Me. And how I feel about her. Myself with these issues, yo.

And perhaps you too. It could be running. Or maybe it’s some other form of elite athleticism #ImASeriousAthlete, or something else. But why is it, often on the brink of success, we choose to steal our own greatness? I need only think it and I could be it. I could be the one. But the thought of it is so far beyond me, it’s like I’d need to daily drink the blood of a unicorn to sustain it. Or go on a Narnian quest to find it. It requires something I don’t already possess. And it’s so perfect, so great, so rare, that it can’t be found in any old place, right? Right.

Everything about that is accurate. It does require something that I don’t possess – Confidence. That thing isn’t just in any old place. It’s inside of me, lost in my brokenness. Where all my failures, unlearned lessons, and mistake keep me hostage like hugs in San Diego #someonewillseewhatididthere. With just a little courage, I could unbind my confidence and be great.

Until then, I’ll just keep showing up. You won’t believe how hard that is to do, even after all of this running. Occasionally, I’ll do something a great person would do, you know? Like PR. Be great on accident. Or I’ll get a little help from the universe. Willing me to be great and whatnot.

I’ll keep being the Runleader the crew needs, until I can be the confident runner I need.

What you still need to know is this: before a dream is realized, the Soul of the World tests everything that was learned along the way. It does this not because it is evil, but so that we can, in addition to realizing our dreams, master the lessons we've learned as we've moved toward that dream. That's the point at which most people give up. #TheAlchemist

About Las Vegas… #Race17Medal16 #redemption #ChallengeMedal4

Redemption time. Time to get it. Go after greatness. Pull up my camo running pants, take photos in a tutu, get to my corral, and make history. Third time is the charm.

But it’s hella cold tho. I mean, like really. And I’m in like one of these hella late corrals… I’m going to be here a while, waiting, in the cold. I mean, she hype as hell on the mic, but it looks like it’s warmer on that stage than it is out here on this dusty pavement. I shoulda took a bathrobe from the hotel. #NBMA

Plans to meet Rikki before the race turned into plans to meet her exactly before we were ready to get in our Corrals. But, that didn't stop us from taking that picture in our tutus. You would not believe how anxious I was...about wearing a tutu. Not about the 13.1 miles. Or the fact that I had been getting it in the past few days Vegas style. No...a glittery tutu has me clicking my heels wishing that I was someplace else, and not in these camo running pants. And she was so gracious. I had to take a picture in it, because I promised, but she let me take it off for the run. I owe her big. Like my butt. That looked pretty damn big in the tutu...and kinda the same size in the camo running pants... #message

Okay, decisions, decisions. To stop at Mile 1 and take a photo at the Welcome To Las Vegas sign or not. I mean, I have one from last year. Well, I don’t “have” one. MarathonFoto has one. I mean, they keep it on their servers, but it’s a picture of me, so it’s like both ours. Anyway, I digress. Okay, I’m not gonna do it. I’m going to run this race as fast as I can. I got this… PR time…

*minutes later*

F*** that. I’m too cute to be passing up picture opportunities. Let me work on my pose and smile since I got all this time before my corral starts. *takes a selfie*

Start Line: I’m not taking a picture at that damn sign. It’s too cold. Just finish the race and be great already. Damn. Please?

Mile 1: Like seriously, it’s cold as a mutha out here. Who pissed Mother Nature off? I can feel each of my fingers. I think they hate me more than my feet will when I put those heels on after this… #ItsVegas *sees people taking the pictures at the sign but keeps running*

          I have no will power. I’m next.

Mile 2: I actually feel good. Like really good. I think this might be a good run. Sure I totally f’d up any hope of a PR with that 5 minute photo shoot. And, maybe it was a bit much to ask that lady to take a picture of me from her camera and text it to me. Point is, I’m the most fabulous person you know. And runners are hella nice. And her camera was better than mine in that moment. #MySmartAssPhoneWontLetMeBeGreat

Mile 3: Are. They. Giving. People. Beers? As in, beer from the finish line side of Las Vegas Boulevard. As in, people who are only 3 miles into the race. And, you’re not going over there to get one because, why?

Mile 4: My hands feel like they are made of adamantium. I just cut my tongue trying to pop one of these Jelly Belly energy beans. Man…that means Wolverine probably can’t eat finger foods when he’s mad. That sucks.

Mile 5: Wait, why am I running in Las Vegas? Because it’s fun? Oh, okay. Just checking. I mean, I didn’t get that from what I was doing right now, but if you say so. However, the fact that this air is so fresh and so clean, I’m only like 75% upset that I’m out here freezing. Like seriously…people still smoke? How is that even legal?

Mile 6: This is when the strip gets interesting…I wonder how much I could pawn my common sense for? It’s not like I use it ever. I mean, current situation…

Mile 7: I want some french fries. From McDonalds. Man it’s cold. Maybe Riki was on to something with that whole tutu thing. I’m f’n freezing! Mother Nature hates every part of me.

Mile 8: I think I need to use the bathroom. I’m not going in those porta potties though. Those things are fckin disgusting. *pace gets slower and slower* Okay, I mean, they aren’t so bad. It’s not like I don’t have this lovely hand sanitizer with me. I mean…they brought them all the way out here for us, so I should maybe use one. *peed so long I almost missed The Return of the King*

Mile 9: Yoooooo I’m like fckin speed racer tho. Where did I get all this energy from? I mean, I literally cannot see anyone’s face because I am moving at the speed of light! Yasssssss running!

Mile 10: I wonder what this gu would take like spread on crackers? Or apple slices for that matter. Imma try that. I bet it’s hella good. You’re welcome life. You are welcome for that.

Mile 11: I know what, if this lady runs in front of one of my epic race picture faces one more time…I swear fo’Lord she ain’t crossing the finish line with her shoe laces. Yea, I’m petty. So what.

Mile 12: Wow. These people next to me have run 20+ miles in the time it took me to run 10+ miles. That’s pretty amazing. I am also running very slow. I am actually Speed Racer’s alter ego…

Mile 13: You know, it’s just cold enough for me to perfect my Kappa shimmy. *begins to shiver/shimmy uncontrollably to the music…on beat ‘cause I’m fancy* Where Cori at??? #Yassss #UCA #StadiumParkShenanigans

Mile 13 (0.1): Pictures are stupid. Why are you trying to take a picture of me when you should be handing me a martini? I’m not smiling for you. I’m not here for that.

Finish: My medal please. Thank you very much. Now excuse me, they’re waiting for my photo shoot. Hair and make-up!! *snap*snap* Let’s make this happen! I’m on a schedule.

Man, and believe me, there was a photo shoot. Like literally every photographer that works for Marathonfoto was there. I just wanted to take a picture Jesus, and get some chocolate milk. But it took forever to get past that part! But when I did, I drank that chocolate milk like it was Sunday morning and I was sitting in front of the TV watching cartoons trying to not get ready for church. Yupppp Thundercats… And then I went back for another one.

Things got bad though when I got to the banana station. I reach for a banana and was like, that’s weird because it was super soft. So I figured that particular banana had been out in the casino gambling and things didn’t turn out so great so I reached for another. But they were all the same. Now, I have had nothing but WONDERFUL things to say about RnRLV despite not getting a medal the first time #NeverLettingThatGo but that? That offense? That crime should be punishable by shin splints! I NEED MY POTASSIUM SIR! Those bananas felt like pudding on the inside! Who puts the pudding inside the banana? I can’t deal Jesus. I’m trying to stay near the cross Lord.

And I realized that I had all the time in the world to have that thought completely because I was still in the medical tent area. When will this ever end? I just wanna get my remix medal and get some eat. You can’t open things very well with adamantium hands. They aren’t that flexible. And my feet are giving me their 30 minutes’ notice. So I have to move with a purpose.

When I got back to my room, I looked down at my race bib and my medals. I ran a second race with those 3 words…sweet and simple. Run to Win. Those were the words Meb placed on my race bib yesterday. We all run to win. But what are we winning? Certainly not these race medals; we pay for these…its part of the fees. And if you don’t come in first, technically, you lost, right?

Well, technically yes…but technically no. What does it mean to “win”… What will it take to impress the critics? How many impossible things can I make into blog posts? We’ve often associated this word with being the first one to cross the finish line. That was my mistake entering into this #14in2014. I had a goal. I had a plan. I knew what I wanted to do. But, I never defined the word. And after every single medal, I was closer to a goal, and farther away from that feeling. From feeling like I won. Like I did it. I spent the whole year going after a goal, because that’s what Mr. 20D says I do.

I did not create the rubric for what it means to win. I won’t make that mistake in 2015.

I’ll define it. And I’ll do it. …and I kinda want my tutu back.

This Race: Rock N Roll Las Vegas #StripAtNight, Half Marathon, Las Vegas NV
Medaled Miles to date: 92.97 miles

Total Raced Miles to date: 116.07 miles 

-2 Medals To Go ǁ 114% Complete

(Challenge Medal 4, 20 Medals ǁ 143% Complete)

Viva Las Vegas! #StillRunnin #Race16Medal15

I’m back. And it’s sure to be amazing because 3rd time is the charm, right? There was 2011 #nomedal #neverforget and then 2013 #VegasRedemption...because when you leave your very first half marathon without a medal you go to Spain the next year. And now we’re here. Back at McCarran Airport, praying that your bag comes out of any carousel, except 13.

 
This year was the very first Remix Challenge for Vegas. You know, that silliness I did in San Jose #5kSaturday then #13pt1Sunday?? I’m back at it. But this time it’s different because it’s at night. I get to rock the strip at night, twice!

They still won't let the #HalfOfTheHalf be great. SMH

 

But....I should probably pick up my race bib from the expo. Because yesterday was Friday, its Saturday morning, and you’re running tonight. To the expo I go!

This year, Tour Pass holders got to meet Meb Keflezighi. Autographs and photos! Right? You know, just the guy who won #NYC2009 and #BostonStron2014… You know, just another runner… He was hella excited to meet me! Anywho...I got to the front of the line, introduced myself, shared with him my congratulations as he’s gonba be an Uncle again *his brother & I went to school together #Bruins #BruWins, I’m not like family*, took a picture, and he signed both my race bibs. Awesomeness.

 

The rest of the afternoon was spent staring out of the Aria room hotel, wondering about that. My real life interaction with a real life winner. Then my phone reminded me of the Black Girls Run Happy Hour, so I made my way to Yardhouse. 

There, at Yardhouse, was the most excitable groups of black women from all over the United States, ready to rock and run. Women from everywhere and every level or running. One of which, was doing her first 5k that very evening. Her run cherry being popped in the city of sin, just like my half marathon cherry in 2011. And they let me tag along to see it.

Start Line: Remember, you and Ketel One had an intense conversation last night. You couldn’t keep your hands off of him. And you have to run like a whole heap of these 5k’s tomorrow. Nobody cares what you do here. They’re all drunk and gambling.

Mile 1: I swear I hate vodka. My chest is on fire... Oh, hey Mr. Black Men Running…you just gonna GoPro me and my new friend here running? Oh, okay? Maybe I should look like I’m excited…Okay…

         

Black Man Running: You ladies warming up, right?

         

Black Girl Dying (me): Yep! We sure are! Just getting warmed up! *please Jesus let him hurry up and run past me…I…Can’t…Breathe…And…Smile…And…Run* #atthesamedamntime #MyHeartMightFail I mean, he looked like he was cute…well sounded like he was cute…anyway…Maybe I should try to see what we looks like…or breathe. Maybe I should just do that.

Mile 2: That was close. For a second there, I thought I signed up to do a 5k in Vegas the night before the half. A night after epic #AriaShenanigans.

Oh wait. Dammit. Wait...where did all my friends go? Dammit!

Mile 3: HOW DARE YOU OFFER ME A DELICIOUS DRINK MADE WITH VODKA! Please sir, go back to your gambling. I am a serious runner and would never take a drink (from a stranger) while running! The nerve! What kind of woman do you think I am? #HeActuallyKnowsMeQuiteWell

Mile 3 (0.1): I wonder where that guy went? I didn’t even ask him what kind of vodka was in that drink. I was sorta rude...

         

Finish Line: There they are. Each one of my friends…and I don’t know any of their names. Waiting for me to finish. Not only do #BlackGirlsRun but #BlackGirlsRock too!

We ended the running experience just as we began. Making sure the group was together as we traveled through the packs of people. Taking pictures of every moment. Smiling for selfies. Posing for group pictures. Trying to talk the MarathonFoto people into hooking us up with a picture or 10, you know, runner stuff.

It’s amazing the people I have met, the courses I’ve seen running, and the incredible things I have been able to do. All from the discomfort of my Saucony’s… I got to enjoy that race experience with people I just met…and was greeted by my dear friends who desperately made their way to the finish. Of all the things I have been during this running experience, I have been lucky. Lucky to experience such acts of love.

But there was this one thing that happened before the start of the race. There was this super tall and completely obnoxious white guy behind us pack of #BlackGirlsRunning being a total jerk. First it was funny photo bombing our group selfies… But after the 10^th time, it got a little old. Like his dry humor and corny jokes. But we let it slide because runners stick together and ish, right?

Well…he thought it would be funny to scare me. Righttttt? So he acted like it was running from something behind me, and kind of shook my left shoulder, to startle me. I obviously reacted like a person would, with unknown chaos behind them.

He and his friends erupt in laughter… Awww, did I scare you? I’m so sorry…We were just playing…Are you okay? So everyone is looking at me, my new friends, to make sure that I am okay and checking in. I look back at him. And he’s expecting me to laugh it off. But, um, I’m trying to figure out, when did homicide become comedy? Because I was ready to end the life of whatever it was behind me. Sure you’re 7 feet tall. However, lest you forget at 5’2, you groin is easily assessable. And my elbow was made in Texas… Sir, count, your, blessings, that my Mama told me to act like I got some sense in public. My mother saved your life. And bail money. The fact that I don’t have enough bail money saved your life.

Jerk.

This Race: Rock N Roll Las Vegas #StripAtNight, 5K, Las Vegas NV
Medaled Miles to date: 89.87 miles

Total Raced Miles to date: 102.97 miles 

-1 Medals To Go ǁ 107% Complete

(Challenge Medal 3, 18 Medals ǁ 129% Complete)