Viva part two

So I'm in the airport waiting for a very delayed flight. I have a client meeting in less than twelve hours. Should be fun.

But back to the race...

I was in a corral with a guy from Denver who told me that he walked the last two half marathons in less than three hours- that made me feel better. Either way the waiting was agony. There was a rush of excitement once our corral began to move and before I knew it, I was running under the start line (a bridge over the boulevard with a blues brothers band on it).



Almost instantly I had to pee. Fml.

One wierd thing about my psyche when I run is that I always have this disturbing feeling like everyone is passing me. This time was no different. It was a couple miles in when I finally had the guts to look back, fearing that I would see no one however I saw tons of people! Like thousands! Perhaps I could do this after all.

Meanwhile, with every portapotty I passed the lines got longer and my need got stronger.

I spent the first part of the race in utter amazement. I was really running this. It was really happening. I was on the strip in Vegas with 30000 other runners and I wasn't bringing up the tail end! There was the MGM then the new aria and cosmopolitan, then the bellagio. Then here was the Venetian, where countless couples were celebrating run through weddings.

Sick thing is that most of those people still beat me!



4.5 miles into the race and I finally gave in to the need to pee. I waited in line with a lady who I had been running near the whole time. I took a picture of her shirt as proof for my stepm-mother that she isn't too old to run one of these with me...



Then we got to the end of the traditional strip and I passed the farthest point in which I had ever ran. I was now boldly going where no Jodi had ever gone before, seeking out a new life, new accomplishments and challenges... In other words, at this point I was in unfamiliar territory- I remembered that I really no idea how long this run would be given that I hadn't ran even close to the same distance... but, one foot after the other and I continued on my way, even giving a cheer Or two to the high school cheerleaders on the sidelines.

One claim to fame of this run is that there are bands at each mile point. I though they would be a welcome distraction from the running, however, once I got into the zone I had to rely on the only thing I knew - my iPhone. Next thing I new it we were turning and making the loop around freemont street HALFWAY!!!!! I wanted to scream with delight at the top of my lungs! Then... My feet reminded me that I had already ran 6.5 Miles and my head reminded that I had another 6.5 miles to go. This next leg of the race would be the most difficult mentally for me. Suddenly I lost my groove- I had long lost the greatgrand mother and was being passed by more than one group of strong-minded runners.



There was one woman ahead of me, and judge me you may, who looked a lot like Shawna. I may have been deluding myself at this poor, but I thought if I just kept focus on her I could keep pace and finish. I am sure hey looked nothing alike but it worked for what I needed.

Back on the strip and passing the stratosphere my body began to ache. I wholly expected my knee to be in agony by this point and was unpleasantly surprised by the strong ache emanating from my ankle, previously broken in a very dumb activity. the ache shot up my entire leg, as the rest of my body compensated the best it could. At this point I walked almost as much as I ran. I had so little left. The water stations were making me angry- their tiny little cups did nothing to quench my thirst so finally I grabbed the jug they were using to fill these sad little cups and filled my water bottle to the brim. I did this once more before the race was finished.



By this time it was late enough in the morning that the usual Vegas tourists began to line the streets gawking with morbid curiosity at those crazy people who came to sin city to showcase their life of virtue.

Halfway up the strip and I hit the two more important milestones in the race. Firstly, i passed the 15km mark. Three quarters of the race were over. My mind frame in the last quarter would shift from agony and desperation to agony, desperation, achievement and pride. I would be finishing this race. Then the realization that I may just finish under three hours, my secret goal for finishing. Secondly, the Mandalay bay sign emerged in the distance, the rainbow to the finish lines pot of old. The end was in sight and no matter the strain, agony and physical cry to give up, my mind took over- god dammit I was going to finish even if I had to run two minutes then walk two. At this point I was not sure what was more painful, that or straight running.



At some Point my desire to win got spiritual, I had lost the Shawna alike and focused my attention on the shirt of the lady ahead of me, which attributed her strength to gods will. That would do for me. I prayed, asking for just a little extra oomph and for some companionship as this was starting to feel like quite the lonely endeavor.

Then I thought of Shawna. she was the inspiration for my run in the first place. It was her running room sweatshirt hanging in the front of the funeral home that gave me the inspiration. I had never took the time to be inspired by her in life, sadly it took her death for me to see her strength and want to emulate it rather than avoid it as as a reminder that she was stronger than me. This run was a year in the making. I had thought of her countless times, on my way home from work and after the gym, wondering if in another life I was still in lethbridge and we were running together.

Then I played her song - Buble's "let me go home". Prior to her death I listened to this song over and over on my way home from Europe, knowing that I was coming home to T.J. to be his forever and forever. Then it became a symbol of her good bye. Then my way of tapping into her strength. My one year of grieving was coming to a close mile by mile, step by step.

The finish line kept getting farther away. The bay was in full sight but where did this fucking thing end??? Turns out that the end was in the parking lot. There were thousands of people watching and cheering. Every step was agony and I couldnt wait to finish. I honestly wondered if I could lift my feet high enough to avoid tripping on the white plastic buttons used in place of white lines on the road.

Then it was done and I was finished. First stop was water, then ice for my head and ankle, then the best banana I had ever tasted. My sense of accomplishment was stronger than anything in my life, and was only slightly tempered by the aching in my legs.



I had just ran a half marathon. Even though my time would later show I ran it in just over three hours, I had exceeded my expectations.

I found T.J. At the K sign, and cried like a baby while he held me.

A pizza and four hour nap later, we would both be sore and walking funny for days.

You know, before I began I hated running. Those of you who played various sports with me would remember that I was always the last one, gasping desperately for air. I ran to remember, to forget, to challenge myself and to prove to myself once again that there are no limits to what I can achieve, and no hurdles others than those I occasionally and inadvertently impose on myself.

Ultimately, I look back and smile, and hope that one day someone may take up the same challenge that I accepted from an amazing woman in a funeral home.

Ps. for those who wish to join me, I'll be beating my time in Vancouver In May.

Viva Las Vegas 2010!

So what a weekend!

For those of you who don't know, I have been "training" for a half marathon since shortly after Shawna died. She was a runner, and the image of her running room sweatshirt hanging in the funeral home next to her ashes stuck in my head for quite some time. Long distance running was ALWAYS something i was terrible at. What better way to look life/death in the face and say "I'm not afraid of you" than picking something you despite, and learning to love it in the name of a lost friend? When I ran, every time that I thought I could go no further, push myself no harder, I thought of her.

It just so happened to be that the Las Vegas Rock and Run was approximately 1 year from her funeral. So I ran it.


And what a run it was! I must first admit that I haven't trained that well lately. Laziness has gotten the best of me (and it doesn't help that it is cold in Edmonton, and the sun won't shine outside of office hours until next March). Excuses, excuses, I was full of them. I came to Las Vegas scared shitless that I wouldn't finish, let her down and look like a fool.

Then I saw the advertisement for Garth Brooks in the airport.

Now... for those of you who don't know me, I am easily distracted. And I am one with impulse purchases. Now picture me, in the airport, making a mad dash for change so I can use the public phone to call and get tickets to my childhood idol. I mean, c'mon, the guy was on my bucket list! After determining the tickets would cost me a fortune, but that there was a seat available at the 10:30 show (the night before the 6:45 am race...) I bit the bullet and bought a ticket - I mean, I'd make it back to the Luxor from the Wynn at 1 am at the latest, giving me lots of time to sleep...

It was worth every penny. He can sing... and sing... and play one mean guitar. The theatre only sat 1400, and, with it being the national finals rodeo here this weekend, half the audience wore stetsons, and the other half had simply left theirs in their hotel room. It was second only to Elton John. It was nothing but Garth, his guitar and some lighting effects. Oh yeah, and his wife Trisha Yearwood! I mean, holy crap! He went through his life and what music inspired him (starting in the 60s). Tell you the truth, he didn't even play that many of his own songs, probably 10 max - the rest were Merle Haggart, Elton John, America, Randy Travis, the Beatles, and countless others (approximately 75-100 in total, though he didn't play the whole song, just the best parts!)



I laughed, I cried, I stood up to give a thundering applause more than once. He even put up the house lights and did a question and answer at the end (and even took requests!)

Then I took the train back to the Luxor at 2 AM.


For those of you who know a little about Las Vegas, you know its late when your on the Monorail all by yourself.

But again, the three hours of sleep that I got the night before the half marathon was worth every penny!

So, Sunday morning, up at 5:30 AM (see, in Vegas, it takes 20 minutes to walk to the next hotel, and with 30,000 people walking the same direction, it takes 45 minutes, so we had to be up really early, even though the race didn't start until 6:45). I was in corral 27, my bib number was 27384. My D-chip was tied to my laces (to track my time), and I was ready to run... or walk, in a mass of people through Luxor to the Mandalay Bay parking lot. I have never seen that many people.

Now, I had been warned that it could take as long as 45 minutes for my corral to actually start the race. It took us 41 minutes. The gun would go off for each group, and each corral would move up closer to the start line. I was in 27 of 32, so you can imagine how long I had to wait. It was interesting to see what people were wearing - there were many Canucks, you could tell by the light clothing they were wearing. Those from the southern USA were wearing mittens - that made me laugh. Part of the race process was that they would donate any clothing you threw on the street to charity, so many a hoodie was discarded along Las Vegas Boulevard.

For 41 minutes I watched runners pass by - so many Elvis', the occasional Marilyn Monroe, and even Big Bird, and Elmo. There was even a spongebob Elvis. Talk about crazy - here I was, not even sure if I would finish, and people are dressed up in uncomfortable costumes? This oughtta be good. Anyway, i had 41 minutes to contemplate my life, as corral after corral of much faster runners bolted past the start line, onto the Las Vegas strip.

My main thought at this point? Dear God, please don't accept my resignation in the next 13.1 miles (20.9 Kilometres).

An Update I guess

Well, yet another blog post beginning with the phrase... "it's been awhile". In the famous words of a rather devious old-English sister, "I'm a married woman now, I don't have time for such things." Oh Lydia. Remind me to watch that show sometime in the near future. The BBC edition. None of this freakishly-skinny, "you've bewitched me, body and soul" bullshit.

I've fallen in love. Not only with my husband, but with Netflix. You see, carrying on two love affairs at once is exhausting. Add in work and my ability to blog with any frequency wanes.

Where was I? Oh yeah, Netflix. The content is sad, (stupid Canadian version), but I hope it to be better in the near future. The main reason I love netflix? Jeremiah. See, I'm terrible at watching shows. My friend Tanelle used to have a list of her "shows" that she would dedicate a portion of each Thursday evening to. Me? I'd watch whatever happened to be on (which was most likely CBC Newsworld, even when it was on repeat... cause I'm cool like that). Tanelle's dedication to the world of television viewing was something I could only aspire to. Not anymore... thanks to Netflix. Now I can (*gasp*)... and did watch two complete seasons of Jeremiah in a week. Yep folks, I work 50-70 hours per week, and I somehow found the time to watch 35 episodes. I'm a winner.



I also have managed to develop a TV crush. Perhaps this is the third love affair I am carrying on. C'mon, I know all of the 5 people that read this (and the occasional foreigner randomly surfing the web who stumbles across this blog and actually sticks around to read it) have fell in love with a tv character/actor/actress at some point in their life. The whole point of television is to get you to identify, emulate or at least enjoy a fake character played by a real human being for a set time per week. When you watch approximately 30 hours of one show in less than a week the attachment one develops is freakishly strong... well, it's like a romance that just ends too quickly. Just last week you were being introduced and now you're eating ice cream all alone wondering what to do with the emptiness.

Then you have the realization that the human beings that you just gotten to know and love actually played the character almost a decade ago and are long gone.

See, I blame my addictive personality. I have learned recently that I never really complete anything - I like to think my high intelligence causes me to tire quickly of the trivial nuances hobbies and the like have. I do, however, get easily caught into well-written (and sometimes even not well-written *ahem* Days of our Lives) stories. I love a good story. Before I know it, I am in the story, swinging the blade, kissing the hero and feeling the immensity that can only be felt when facing an insurmountable foe. The shitty thing about stories is that they inevitably end.

On that happy note...

Married life is great. Some people have asked me if it feels any different than before. The truth? Yes, though I notice it some days more than others. Like when I sign my name Jodi K instead of Jodi G. Like when I refer to him as my husband. Like when there is laundry all over the floor, I grumble at his laziness... then realize it's mine. Yep, love and marriage.

Off to watch TV.

Hawaii

So, Hawaii is everything that I thought it would be, and more. Actually, going into this vacation I had remarkably few expectations, as I did't have enough time to form any. A quick breakdown of my activities the past 10 days (well, most of my activities) - this is mainly for my guidance, and not for readership:

(and for those of you wondering why I have found the time to blog while on my honeymoon - T.J. likes to sleep in, I don't. Simple as that).

1. Turtle bay resort was amazing! I am blown away though, by how early things shut down on the island each night. I guess I am used to Alberta, where the sun stays up over 5 hours later each day in the summer.
2. We snorkelled and used glass-bottom Kayaks to see sea turtles in the bay near the resort - talk about cool! First one we found was on the beach sleeping and couldn't have cared less that we were there!
3. I ate bacon every morning at the buffet! Totally scared to step on a scale now, but happy that I don't have the stress of trying to fit into my dress.
4. Giovanni's shrimp truck was yummy!
5. Kualoa Ranch - I got to see where part of Jurassic Park was filmed, as well as Lost, Pearl Harbour and many many more.
6. Snorkelling in Shark's Cove was epic!
7. Shave Ice is the best ever, though I wonder at how Matsumoto's got such a good reputation, as I found it mediocre at best. There was a little place by the food land on the East side of the island (I think it was called Angel's) that had the best shave ice.
8. I have never spent so much time napping - I love it!
9. Driving round the island in a blue mustang convertible rocks. Thank goodness that T.J. and I work well as a team when it comes to directions though.
10. Sunday we went shopping at the Aloha stadium - checked out all the vendors surrounding the stadium - I spent a lot of money!
11. Yesterday was the Honolulu Zoo - pictures will be up soon!

(daily itinerary, from the best I can remember)

Sunday September 12 - arrived at the hotel really late after getting our car and driving up the island after getting a little lost.
Monday September 13 - Went for a walk along the beach first thing in the morning. Walked really far, it was so warm, and humid! Then went for a drive down the east side of the island and ended up going around almost the whole thing - the drive was awesome!
Tuesday September 14 - went to Kualoa Ranch and Giovanni's shrimp truck in the morning. The ranch trip was a couple hours, and we saw tons of movie sets and a WWII bunker. After a lovely nap, we went snorkelling in a bay near our resort and saw our first turtle.
Wednesday September 15 - went kayaking in the same bay as before, with glass-bottom kayaks. Also saw the Lost giant Banyan tree. Also went golfing at the George Fazio course, was so fun! I was doing quite well by the end of it (we were the last on the course at the end of the day.) I had ribs for dinner at the clubhouse.
Thursday September 16 - Went snorkelling at Shark's Cove first thing in the morning, long before the crowds could get there. after an afternoon nap we went into Haweli for some shopping, and had Aloha General Store shave ice, as well as New York Style Pizza.
Friday September 17 - Went to the Dole Plantation, took the Pineapple Express train, ate more pineapple than I could ever imagine, went shopping and went through the world's biggest maze with a woman named Lin from Seattle. enjoyed our last night at Turtle bay by drinking our champagne and watching the sun set while walking around the resort. Dinner was a hawaiian buffet with prime rib at the resort.
Saturday September 18 - after our last buffet breakfast, we drove from the resort down the east side of the island towards Waikiki. I slept most of the way. Stopped at McDonald's where there was a very epic mural. It was really weird. Woke up in the middle of Waikiki and T.J.'s need for a map - a little stressful to say the least. After we checked in, we headed to the A La Moana mall (which is massive!) Ate Bubba Gump's Shrimp Co. shrimp, and did some shopping. We then walked down the main street which was closed for a festival - otherwise known as a business promo - found out there were 6 coach stores within 10 blocks of each other. There were stages on each block, and the music was really good.
Sunday September 19 - went shopping at the Aloha Stadium, had another epic nap, and watched the sunset at the Waikiki beach. Then went for dinner at this famous buffalo wings place, and played Buzztime - thanks to the time changes, we were 15th in the US at one point!
Monday September 20 - Spent the morning at the Honolulu Zoo after doing laundry at the hotel (our hotel pool is depressing) - we walked there which took a long time. Took lots of pictures of animals. Walked back to the hotel, then off to the beach for a sunset snorkel. Nightlife in Waikiki not really great (as we are not bar folk and don't really care about hitting a luau all the time, and are generally fooded out), so we went to a movie at the Ward Centre. Saw "the Town" with Ben Affleck - wasn't too bad.

And now here I am, all caught up.

Moments

There are certain moments in time that need memorializing, no, deserve memorializing. Here I sit, at my computer in the first room I ever lived in in my Clareview condo, contemplating how fast my single life on this planet has come to an end.

Of course, it's two in the morning and I can't sleep. Actually, who am I kidding, I don't want to. I don't want tomorrow to come and go as fast as I know that it will. I anticipate the smiles on people's faces, and the joy that I will feel (something that is too rare nowadays, and not just with me.) I will see my parents cry, my relatives attempt to dance, and my friends drink more liquor than they probably should.

I anticipate ahead of time that there will be a moment in all of this chaos, where I will look from the head table around at those who are most important to me on this planet, and feel the sense of calmness and serenity that is wholly inappropriate for the circumstances, but right nonetheless, as it will be a reflection of the pride I have, the pride I have in where I come from, where I've been, and who I am today. That was a long sentence... I wonder if it is grammatically correct... The bonus is that I get to have this moment of accomplishment sitting next to the most handsome man I know. The uber bonus is that if everything turns out right, at that time we will share a common name.

This week has been a whirlwind, from throat infection to birthday and bar call. Many have remarked at how crazy I have made this week for myself. I have thought of this, and find it funny, as this is how I have done things for as long as I can remember. When it comes to events, parties and life changes, go big or go home. It's like a band-aid analogy, only with a positive spin (yes, there can be a positive spin on ripping a band-aid off of a semi-healed wound).

Oh, the girls have gotten quiet - it may really be time for me to go to bed. You see, some of my closest friends (sadly, one missing, but that is how life changes as we age... eek - I'm almost 30) are sleeping in the master bedroom of my condo right now. Yep, all four of us are having a girls night, eating junk (dear G - please let my dress fit) and watching the dumbest movie of all time. At least we were, until it was 2 in the morning, and sleep became more important than calories.

It's funny, there's so much I want to say, yet I'm struggling. Rarely do I struggle with words, even at 2 am (yep, it's been a 20 hour day). I'm trying to capture this moment in a picture made of words, to look at years down the line, when such a big day becomes remembered by a simple romantic dinner at home, (or a blow-out vacation on Turks & Caicos when we grow old... and wealthy). Drawing a picture with words is not an easy task (though one I have to get much better at in order to fulfill the T&C fantasy!)

So... what's going through my head right now (yep folks, the bare, honest and brutal truth):

1. Oh dear, I've pulled in a 20 hour day, which means I will likely have a migraine tomorrow. That will ruin my wedding. How will I push through it?
2. The redbull is in the fridge, right?
3. I hope I don't forget my vows (remember... 11 lines, and count them on your fingers).
4. I wonder how the rum and coke T.J. is drinking out of a coffee pot at the Delta is tasting? Perhaps he will be more hurting than I.
5. What the heck did I ever do to end up with such a handsome, successful, and (gulp) normal man?
6. Forever sure is a hell of a long time.
7. I wonder what our kids will look like?
8. I can always sleep in Hawaii.
...
9. Hopefully that brief pause was a sign of sleepiness... nope. Damn.
10. The quiet at 2 am is remarkably refreshing.
11. I can't wait to see him smile. I hope my vows make him cry. I hope his vows make him cry, but not too much... a manly cry, no gratuitous weeping.

So there you have it, what I think about on the night (ha ha - morning) of our wedding.

During the dress rehearsal there was a full double rainbow in the sky. Was it a sign? The humble part of me doesn't want to admit that I have any significance to anyone with the power to make a rainbow, let alone two of them. The dreamer in me says "I knew you'd come" in response.

My final thoughts drift to those in my life who could not make it. Not those who are across the country, or stuck working, as those are positions that are full of life and consequence. We all have to live, our wedding does not stop the passage of time for the world, just me and T.J. I think of those who would have not missed it for the world, had they still walked it. Perhaps the tendency towards the morbid has roots in my childhood, or those traumatic teenage years. Perhaps it's the joy I get in thinking that they're not really gone, but silent observers at the happiest day of my life, as of yet. It may be a soft warm hug, telling me that there are things that go so much deeper than a dress, flowers, centre-pieces and fireworks, but that for the time being, it is perfectly OK to focus on these diversions as the even the fundamental tapestry of time gets to celebrate and party occasionally.

Time to attempt to sleep. I await some epic dreams.