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)

I'm going to spend a lot of time NOT in heels. . . #14in2014

I’m a runner.

There was a time when I would have said something like: I’m not athletic – at all. I’m something of a runner, but would never confuse that with athletic prowess or anything of the sort. I said exactly that, this one time. I mean, look at me. I do not look anything like a runner. Go ahead, find a picture. I will wait for you to confirm what I already know to be your reaction when I say that I like to run. But f*ck it, I run. I LOVE getting medals, so I “like” running. There’s no indication of speed, distance, style, or anything. I start running and I finish. Every. Single. Time.

So, the homeys and I are running 14 medal races in 2014 #14in2014. We are planning our running schedules, coordinating travel plans, and looking for as many opportunities possible to have a Medal Monday. It is literally the best feeling ever. It is like having dark chocolate after giving it up cold turkey to fit in a dress you are only wearing one time, because you are a bridesmaid…and bridezilla has your picture at every fast food restaurant from here to Galilee. All I wanted was a small fry! It's McDonald's! I didn't even ask for the bbq sauce. Or finding a shoe sale with a price so incredibly ridiculously cheap, you buy the shoes EVEN THOUGH they are not your size, you have a pair of them already and are sending them to your friend Just BeFreakingCause, even though the postage is more than what you paid for said duplicate shoes. You know what I feel like on Medal Monday? Like a mutha-fckin-boss! Like a gottdamn Olympian! I did this ish for the U. S. of A! With my red, white, blue and Olympic Gold!

Anyway, one day amidst all this daggone running, I subconsciously embraced it as part of who I am. You know? Me and the running thing. I had the epiphany that I was outwardly espousing that part of my inner identity whilst yelling at the flat screen out some Bruin Alum #CollegeFootball. Having a discussion with fellow alum about life, work, traffic, Banana Republic, food, beer and touchdowns, I found a way to bring up running. I am also kind of snobby about it. Actually, I’m an accidentally humble bragging snob about it. I was doing a 10K in San Francisco that next morning in preparation for the Rock n Roll Half in Las Vegas the following weekend. You know, get a little organized running in before the coup de grâce, right? “Oh, don’t worry, it’s just a 10K…I’m only having two beers.” #SnobAlert

You should see the creepy excited look on my face when I have an opportunity to baptize another set of Asics in the Running Cult o_O. Right. Creepy! I mean, I’m not just the President, I’m also Leg 2 in Marathon Relay #BlackGirlsRunOakland #RunLikeHella #TeamTallsAndSmalls. So this was an opportunity to connect to those who practice the dark art of running, or better yet, create new converts. AND, they are Bruins. This is a win – win, right? Wrong – Wrong. Though they continued to engage in the conversation with me, it was completely awkward. Picture this conversation… I will tell you what I said, and the corresponding responses from their photo-shopped and questionably fit non-verbal reactions.

Me: “So, OMG, I LOVE getting medals! I’m doing a 10K this weekend so I can get my mind ready for the RnR Half in Vegas next Sunday, I’m sooo excited!” #MedalRedemption

Their Non-Verbals: *wait, did she just say that she runs? like her feet move in the walking motion, but faster?* #confused

Me: “Really? You run too?! That’s so exciting… RnR have great races…”

Their Non-Verbals: *oh, this must be the first time she’s like run. ever. in life. no wonder she’s so excited. she thinks a half is like half a 10K or something. she’s never actually done a HALF Marathon. it’s going to be really awkward when we tell her how far she’s going to have to run.*

Me: “OMG! You’ve ran RnR in Las Vegas too? It’s such a great race, right? The lights, the bands, the music, the people! I did it in 2011. It’s redemption for me; I didn’t get a medal when I did it the first time. I was soooo disappointed.”

Their Non-Verbals: *this b*tch lyin. if she’s ran a half marathon, then the president is still black. wait…*

I’ve had to defend my identity for most of my life. People seeing the outside of me, and making assumptions about what the insides look and/or act like #theyrephysiologicallythesameasyours. I’m a woman. I’m not thin. I’m educated. I’m Black #obviously. I have a fantastic sense of style. I’m pretty accomplished in my career – though there is plenty more to do. I suppose I expected I would have to defend my religious beliefs, or my kinda conservatively liberal political views, or the fact that I drive a Cadillac because Mother Nature gives exactly no f*cks about me for a week every month #payback. But when I started running, I did not prepare myself for their non-verbal responses. Until those judgmental looks on their faces, the strange movements of their socially acceptable bodies, and their passive aggressive insistence on a new conversation topic, I believed that everyone in the not so United States of America and its suburbs (the world) would cheer me on to the finish.

But, even runners have haters. Runners cannot see them because, hello?!!? They’re running! Haters do not run. They do not even compete. They never start – running. Mostly because they are too busy hating to start. And they will never see the finish line.

And they for damn sure ain’t got no bling to hold up the line at TSA on Medal Monday. Yea, I said it. Bling.

An actual writer (I’m pretending to write), Mary Oliver wrote, “Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.” I have received a couple few boxes packed FULL of darkness that I am not ready to show any gratitude for #StillBitter. I know, right? I am sooo popular #meh. But this one gifted to me by their non verbal responses? It did not take me years to understand its purpose. This box has my redemption medal from RnR Vegas 2013 right on top of it. Thank you, Bruin Alum, for that box full of darkness. It was the gift I needed. It’s heavy enough to hold the weight of my medal. Oh, and it glows in the dark.

#14in2014 started before I met them. I will finish this despite them. I did not need them to motivate me to do it. The race medal and support from Erin and Kim is more than enough. But, I did need a reminder. I need to remember to prepare. Not everyone I meet is going to believe in me. They will not believe in #14in2014 the way that I do. There will be people who never speak it and others who will doubt the possibility that I will see 14 Start and Finish lines. When I meet these people, these Jason Lock’s of running, I will invoke my inner Morpheus… When they say to me, they don’t believe in 14 in 2014 like I believe, I will make sure to remember and remind them that my belief in #14in2014 doesn’t require them to. Believe.

See you at the Start Line.

Have my mimosa ready for me at the Finish. I’m pretty sure you will get there before me.

I never said I was fast. I just said I Finished.

I know what you're thinking. Right. I'm Hella Bossy! #kelis

Note: I honestly do not know another time in my entire life that I have ever been more inspired to do something like what I'm doing right now. 

This. Is. Really. Happening. Like. Seriously. Happening. I hope that you will join me in this effort with your love, prayers (for health, I fall down a lot. hard.), and maybe even your sneakers! Sign up for a race with me! I want to share my love, the pavement, my epic #14in2014 & #MedalMondays with you! Then you can write me and tell the world how much FUN you had #RUNNIN!!!