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

Epic. Summer. PR. #andBacon

…because what’s the point of running a repeat race if it doesn’t count for something? ~Dr. Splits on Trees & Alicia Keykey

They were right. What’s the point? If you’re going to run a repeat race, make it worth the #15in2015 #2015kIn2015. What’s left on the list? Well, I need the miles because I’m so behind. Okay, got it. What else? The only viable options for this race was to run with a new friend, or PR. And since we know I’m not about to PR, I need to make me a new friend… Or perhaps find a race to run on Monday and do back to back races.

Right. Make a new friend. #RunTwerkDrink(Eat)Repeat

At the Race Expo I did everything but make a new friend. I got my jelly belly energy and recovery beans, took my #EpicSummerRun race bib photo, and I sampled all the healthy serious runner nutritional things. Because, well, I’m a serious athlete. I even took the tour of the new #RnRHeavyMedals! OMG! I want them ALL! Perused the course map *looks the same as last year* and shaded a couple of classes people.

But, beach. So we left. And I did not make a single new friend. Ugh.

That’s okay though. I’m in San Diego, and I am going to have an amazing time. That’s more than enough. I’ve got half a year left to be great. I’ll be great then. Today, I’m chillin’.

And that was the plan. Show up, run a good race, then binge on wine and bacon. Because, Temecula and Slater's 50/50.

START: *marathon start* Dammit! I gotta pee. I hate these damn porta-potties. *my knee hurts* #JesusBeABalmInGilead

Mile 1: I actually feel good. I honestly think this is going to be a good run. Look at me being all positive and whatnot. Go Girl. Look at God work in your life!

Mile 2: Okay, maybe this is going to just be an “okay” run. *rubs knee* But, I’m still surprisingly positive. Go Figure?

Mile 3: That. Smells. Delicious! OMG! Who is making breakfast out here like that? Imma need a biscuit and some local honey. #allergies

Mile 4: Open Bar? For real though? You’re just going to make specialty drinks right in front of me? #TheyTriedIt

Mile 5: Shots of patron? Bruh!!!!!! C’mon legs…jog to the left just a little. Grab that cup…Remember, you gotta make a new friend! No? I gotta keep running? #ThisSucks #iHateSanDiego #andByHateImeanILoveThisPlace

Mile 6: Look at this mess. Half Marathon Relay exchange. People are finished running. And I’m out here acting like my knee don’t hurt and that refreshed runner over there doesn’t want to be my new friend.

Mile 7: Soooooo. You’re just going to pass me with a running stroller? You tried it. *turns jets on* I’m the RunLeader Dammit! Ask about me homey.

Mile 8: Okay. Maybe turning on the jets was a little premature. Lemme slow down and act like the 3 hour plus HALF of a marathon runner that likes to wear heels that I am.

Mile 9: That gottdamn hill. How in the hell did I forget about this? Fawwwwk! I quit. It’s not worth it Miss Celie.

Mile 10: This gottdamn Big 10 Water/Aid Station. No Mr. Ohio State Man, I don’t want nothing from you. #Michigan #FabFive #AllDay

Mile 11: Father God, if I don’t make it, please allow my phone batter to send a GPS signal to somebody to find my body…so I can be resuscitated and have wine with my friends.

Mile 12: That dude though. Heeeeey Bae! How You Doin??? Mr. No Shirt Running the Marathon Looking All Refreshed … while I’m over here dragging in this half looking all…oh…my…God…what…do…I…look…like? #RunToTheOtherSideOfTheStreet *prays he didn’t see me*

Mile 13: If there isn’t any chocolate milk at the finish OR if Alicia Keykey drinks it all, heads will rock and roll!!!! #seewhatididthere?

Mile 13(0.1): Welp. You tried it. Well, kinda not really, but hey, it was a good effort in running a good race. You’ll get that PR one day. But today? You’re getting wine and bacon. You did good! You iz impo’tant.

         

Finish: Awwwww… Looked at my homeys all waiting for me to finish. I luhhhh dem! Now about that wine and bacon? #ImFocusedMan #Priorities #DrinksChocolateMilk

I was pretty over this whole situation. I ran a decent race. I was in San Diego with my friends. I felt pretty good, despite my knee. I was pretty done with running in that moment, and ready to enjoy the rest of my #Racecation #Runcation.

We made it back to the hotel and began the dance of getting ready for our adventures. Out of sheer curiosity, I decided to take a look at my time to see how I did. I mean, the last #EpicSummerRun was awesome, and I ended up running my fastest time. Sure I didn’t run my fastest time today, but I probably did better than I think I did, right? I mean, I actually feel good, right?

*screams*screams*screams*MORE SCREAMS*

Yup. You guessed. It. Got that PR. By 6 minutes. 6 whole minutes.

I can’t with myself sometimes. There are all of the things to say about this. Mostly, one would think that I’ve learned by now that my subconscious’ will to be great is too strong to be anything but great.

Flawless victory on the pavement. And I had no idea I even did it.

#15ThingsIn2015 Challenge

5 new states (Louisiana – 1 down, 4 to go)

4 new friends (OldieButNewbie #RunningHubby; My Child – 2 down, 2 to go)

3 new running events (Shamrock Half; St Charles Road Race; Orange County Half – 3 down, 0 to go)

2 back-to-back running events

1 Half Marathon PR (Rock N Roll San Diego! 6 minutes! – 1 down, 0 to go)

Ohhhh Ladies First, Ladies First... #TheQueenSaidIt

Chivalry ain’t dead. It wasn’t even lost. Know where it was? San Diego…on racecation. It was quite clear to me once I stopped being so damn busy.

I have never believed that chivalry died. It like many virtues is learned at a young age, tested through the developmental years, then realized as truth when it arrives at maturation.

I rocked and rolled San Diego, remember? I joined some male colleagues in higher education in the city of sunshine on my quest to 14. And among the beaching, the laughing, the traveling, the getting ready(ing) and hugging, I saw it.

…and I know what you’re thinking. Well, you were the only female on the trip. Duh. Of course the men would act differently around you. Tis’ some truth to that. I have to use a different restroom. My walking around topless would go over differently than their shirtless mornings. But not every man on the trip, that I came in contact with, did chivalrous things.

Like #conferencehubby. He always checks in. Are you okay? Do you need anything? Can I get that for you? Or SPL. After running a full marathon quicker than I ran a half, he carried my belongings whilst at Coronado Beach. His exact words? My mother taught me better than that. He then reached for my stuff and we walked to the car. Awkwardly walked to the car together.

So, while I was in town I got to see my Southern California parents. My friend played football with my cousin. Athletes and housing folk are on campus all the time, so it made sense that through or respective work, familial connection, and well we lived in the same place, that we would see each other all the time. I came to know his mother very well. She wished me a happy 21^st birthday. She never actually said that. It was more like, …stay right here, don’t move. Then she left. 45 minutes later we were still in our footsteps. When I went looking for her to inform her that I was attempting to head out for my birthday plans, she said, …I thought I told yall not to move. I’ll be there in just one second. You’re thinking, …that’s not happy birthday but from her, it is that and so much more.

My Foster parents came to meet me post-13.1 miles as we haven’t seen each other in years. We smile, hug, greet…and then I listen to them argue about the location of the car keys. Foster Dad is introduced to my companions because well, they’re men…and he’s Daddie. Foster Mom meets them. They interrogate my friends briefly and then we’re off.

I respond to questions about my friends in their nicest parental Harpo who dem men? inspired tone. We eat, we laugh, we catch up…we pick up where a gap of years left off. They show me off to Foster Mom's friend…and my medal. Then we leave. It’s time for me to get to Coronado to meet up with my friends.

Once we arrive to Village Pizzeria, I am ready to hop out of the car. Sitting still for too long is painful after a hard run. Before I can latch my hand to the door Foster Dad looks back at me and says, Call your friend and tell him to come out here and get you. I’m thinking, …oh my friend that I can see from the window of the Pizzeria? Oh. Okay. Now I’m 16 years old again and embarrassed. I have to call one of my adult friends and have one of them come fetch me from the car. How am I going to explain this? I call SLP. I tell him to have Conference Hubby come out to meet me, as I have just arrived. And to my surprise, SLP comments, …did you specifically need him, or would you like for me to come outside?

That’s when I knew that everyone got it, but me. Chivalry. It’s such a complex thing. Multifaceted and multidimensional. Varying definitions and interpretations. And as such, it’s the easiest thing. It’s so simple. And because it is so simple, many of us will be perplexed by it – like I was in the back seat.

It’s the right thing, to make sure that a person you love like a child you birth is safe. So you look the person who’s joining her in this adventure in the eye. I watched their eyes have a conversation.

This is our child who we love.

   I care for her as well. She is my friend.

I am entrusting her to you.

   I will make sure she is safe.

Thank you.

   It is my pleasure, Sir.

In the days and times of equality on all fronts, especially gender, one might not see the novelty in this. They might recall days of old when women were the property of their husbands (some still are), couldn’t freely walk around without the accompaniment of a male family member, and be seen as too fragile and weak to care for herself. And one could contend that chivalry was born of this. The expectations of men and their responsibility for the “fairer” sex.

But beyond gender, there is something bigger. Responsibility. My Foster parents had me under their care. And though it was only for a few hours, the fact remains that once they picked me up, they were responsible for me. And we live in a crazy world, where bad things happen to people. Things they can’t protect their children from. So at the very least, they can look the man in the eye traversing the streets of downtown San Diego with their child, before parting ways. And in order for it to work, I have to comply. I have to submit.

It got me to thinking. There are people in my life who obviously feel a sense of responsibility to me. The feel invested in my health, my strength, my smile, in my life really. And when I am around these people I observe, I witness these effortless acts of chivalry. And I have to admit that sometimes it makes me uncomfortable because I’m not used to it – those feelings on a regular and consistent basis.

Chivalry isn’t dead at all.

I just spend time with the wrong people. That’ll desensitize you.

Can You Hear Me Now? #ListenSamListen

I am not a nag. I don’t care what that Jerk (Ernie) or SDP tells you. It ain’t true! I just insist on telling you what we’re you’re going to do with your life multiple times within an hour period because, well…You Are Not Listening To Me. I genuinely care about you, and that’s just the way I show it. Deal. Now what are you wearing today, because I need to iron it.

Okay, I can be a bit of a nag. But it’s part of my charm. I don’t mean it in a nagging kind of way, I just worry, and I want to make sure that everything is taken care of. My mental checklist is so long that if I don’t share it, I will forget it. And now that AWB is not around to leave post-its on my desk, many things will be forgotten in the latter half of this year.

Okay, so where was I going with this? Right. Those of you who identify as men in my life do not listen to me! This awesome weekend in San Diego illuminated that factoid right there. And here is m proof…

So, we have all gathered in San Diego to have an #epic vacation/race weekend. That means hotel, traveling, navigating the city, parking, logistics etc, right? Right. This is right up my alley. While I am a total go with the flow type on vacation #kinda, when I’m with a group of people I care about, I NEED to take care of them.

And conference hubby wants something sweet to eat. Only it’s late, the evening before the race, and we’re kind of tired. But, I’ve been in the city almost a day longer than he has, so I am familiar with the options around the city. He wants a brownie and ice cream. I suggest we go out to a nearby store to satisfy his sweet tooth. He insists that we will do no such a thing. So, room service. While I am confirming his room service order (because I had to call on his behalf), he mentions coffee. I tell him that we already have some in the room. He is offended, literally OFFENDED by the suggestion, so we order coffee as well from room service.

Yummy desert, tasty ice cream, substandard coffee and $30 dollars later, he is feeling like this was not a great idea. No, he actually knows and admits that this was not a great idea. I just smile and hand him the receipt. #IWontSayIToldYouSoYet #ItsJustTheFirstNight

Early Sunday morning, I have finally gotten myself together. I have all of the items that I will need post-race. Meds for the aches and pain. Recovery supplements. My wallet. My digital camera to supplement dead smart phones #thosebatteriesneverlast. Everything I would need but could not carry. I tell him where the bag is located. I even put the room key (that he would have to take) on top of it to remind him to grab it. I text him while I was awaiting the start of my event just to remind him about it because, I mean, well he was kinda sleepy. Post-race I find them, we hug it out, and I look for my bag. He admits that he forgot to bring it (but has the room key with him). #ItsLikeHeDidItOnPurpose #JustToSpiteMe #ThatAin’tHoly #ItWasSunday

He comments on all of the things that I have in my hands and if I needed help carrying them. I mentioned casually that a bag would help. He carried oddly shaped nourishment, refreshing liquids, and other race items. He notices the other runners are changing, stretching and pulling stuff out of their bags. He inquires if I needed to do any of that. I smiled and replied, It’s all in my bag. #IMeanItWas #IdidSmileTho

Now it is Sunday evening and we’re working out the parking post epic race and night out in SD. I tell them to park at the lot we parked the night before and pay $10. That way they won’t have to get up early in the morning to rush to move the car and potentially not find another space. It is late and we are so tired, right? Well, why in the world would he do that when he could park on the street for free, and just set an alarm and move his car in the morning? How could I be so silly? Especially when the drunk lady you just met in the lobby that you don’t know, who does not give a damn about your car said parking on the street is a good idea. Yea. That. Well, morning comes and he is annoyed by the alarm, as opposed to eager to move his car. I do nothing.

Once he finally gets up, gets dressed and gets to his car to move it, he’s greeted by a ticket. See, he’s parked on a hill. He didn’t turn his wheels in to the curb. He’s from Detroit so, well, earthquakes aren’t a thing. And get this, He’s Mad! Tell us why you mad though honey… Because they didn’t have a sign telling people to do what EVERY OTHER CAR ON THE STREET has done. #OhOkay #IReallyWantToSayIToldYouSo #I’llKeepItToMyself

All the while getting ready for breakfast and on the walk over, I had to listen to how this travesty of justice and reckless citing by parking enforcement will not go unpunished, right? In my mind I’m thinking, this could have been avoided by listening. The car ended up in the parking lot I told them to park in, in the first place. But instead of that, I tell myself, You know, they had a rough morning and are suffering the consequences of not listening to me. I’m just gonna treat them to breakfast #Panera. Yea, that’ll be a good idea.

We get to the register. DRice falls in line. Makes his order and moves on. It’s Hubby’s turn and this fool has to just be a man about it. Naw, I can’t let you do that. No, no, no, I got it. What are you doing? You’re not paying for this.

I am just damn DONE by this point! So, I did what every woman who’s ready to explode but recognizes that she’s not sure how much bail would be, and all these people are kinda watching because she is wearing her race medal around her neck #MedalMonday. I have a mildly controlled #AngryBlackWomanMoment.

I’m about to lose it. I am really about to break down and snap on you! Just order your damn food. Tell them what you want, just say it! OMG. OMG. OMG. Just listen and do what I say. OMG. OMG. OMG. Why won’t you just listen to me… *real fake tears are beginning to form*

…and his response? *queue up handsome smile* Awww, I wish I had my smart phone so I could record my boo snapping…you so cute…look at you. *still handsomely smiling*

This fool is at the brink of death in Panera, literally the cliff…and I’m feeling my inner Spartan… What does he do? Make the moment absolutely hilarious and cute! I hate him. He doesn’t listen. If a man’s test in life is a woman. I believe part of the woman’s test is getting that man to listen to her – and really hear what she is saying – and comply with her words. #WeNeedMorePractice lol

There’s more. Like him attempting to pay for the hotel room that was already paid for. WHEN I TOLD HIM IT WAS BEFORE WE WENT TO CHECK OUT!!!! But we’ll keep that between us and the hotel staff wondering if I was going to cause a violent domestic scene about all the renovating.

…but now he knows not listening to me comes with a price. 

#YouWillBeCited #ImAlwaysRight #BetYouWontForgetToTurnYourWheelsInNextTime #ListenSamListen