RIP Mr. Salinger

Growing up reading was not my favorite thing to do. With a speech impediment, and many years of speech therapy, reading out loud was my nemesis. Reading felt like a punishment. I hated it. Having hated reading out loud, lead to not enjoying reading at all.

Then one day in junior high school (somewhere around 12-13 years old) I saw a book in the library titled “Catcher in the Rye”. The title caught my eye and I ignored it.

The next week, while walking home from school, my best friend told me in her Advanced English class, (unlike me, she liked to read). They were reading “Catcher in the Rye”. The next day I walked into the library, and walked out with the book. I didn’t necessarily check it out. Don’t ask me why. I had a strange rebellious streak.

I read the book over the course of a weekend and now our 2.5 mile walks home were consumed of talking and quoting from this book, discussions of what Holden Caulfield would be like in person and how we both dreamed of meeting a boy like that. When other girls were oogling boys in school, we both developed huge crushes on Holden Caulfield. I still have a strange school-girl crush on this fictional character. I read that stolen copy over a dozen times before it found a new owner in my collegiate years. Ironically it was stolen from me. A book that good tends to grow legs.

I believe karma has paid me back for my stealing of my original copy. I have since bought more than a half-dozen copies of this book as gifts for my nieces and nephews and anyone that has ever said they have not read this book. It is a must read.

Because of “Catcher in the Rye”, I learned that reading can be enjoyable and sometimes I can relate to the characters. Because of J.D Salingers writing, I developed a love affair with reading.

RIP Holden Caulfield. I hope they throw you in a river or something and no-one brings you flowers when you’re dead. Who wants flowers when their dead anyways? Nobody.

Home From Sundance Film Festival

Late last night I made it home from Park City Utah, where some movies were being shown and some celebrities were spotted.

After a long nap, I'll tell ya all about it, including what Paris Hilton smells like and who is hot, and who is not.

For now, ‘nighty night. I must recover with some sleep.

2:30:12

Wednesday, January 13. Thanks to “Travelocity last minute deals” I decide to go to Phoenix and run in my second Rock and Roll half marathon.

Thank you to my high school girlfriend Kara for registering me considering my plane landed as the expo was closing.

Here is the report:

Coral #15. These people look serious, they are all talking about their pace times, what their averages are…I am thinking I am in trouble, I know my overall best times and I have seen my pace from Rock Canyon before but I can only remember seeing high numbers from the fall series like 14 minute miles…When did I see that? Was it Palmer Park? Was it yesterday ? Uh oh, this could get ugly. Wait, this a smooth, flat road, no ice, no trail, no wall to climb up, no river to cross, or run up for that matter. I am at sea-level. I have oxygen. I’ll be fine. I feel good, I can do this. I will do this. I know the course and I know I am more prepared this time than last time I ran this event. I will do great. Plus the weather is ideal, high supposed to be in the low 60’s, overcast, a slight breeze. Who could ask for better conditions?

Mile 1- Seriously? This is great! I feel great! That was a fast mile. It is usually in the first mile I think, “I am not hydrated enough”, or “maybe I shouldn’t have eaten oatmeal for breakfast”. Or “ That wine was not such a good idea last night.” Not today. I am in perfect condition I feel like.
Oh but I do have to pee. There is a porta potty station at the 1 mile marker with a ridiculous line, yeah not going to waste time there.

Mile 2- still feeling good, oh yeah, I still gotta pee, but that line was too long, there has to be more on course.

Mile 2.5 Oh I REALLY gotta go, I see a Taco Bell and I run in, there is a large black woman cleaning the dining room. As I come in the door she yells at me “You go Girl! You got this! You keep running” I laughed thinking that she was going to scold me for using the restroom, instead the woman’s is occupied and I see the men’s is open. I tell her I am going in, she says she will make sure no man comes in while I use the restroom. As I finish and run out she yells again “you go get ‘em girl!” (total restroom break is 2 minutes, much better than waiting in line). As I get back on course the 2:30 pace sign passes me. Damn, I want to stay in front of the pace sign. So I slowly work my way back up and in front of the sign that will prove to be my race nemesis. I vow to not let the sign pass me again.

Mile 3- look here is the 5k marker.
Last time I ran this event, I remember feeling pains in my ankle and knee around here. I feel Awesome! My knees are happy and my ankle is content. This is GREAT!

Mile 4—1/4 of the way done, well kinda, just coming up, I got this.

Mile 5- Sweet! 5 miles! Seriously, I am thinking Oxygen is an amazing thing, who knew?

Mile 6- I guess I am good, because I am not remembering Mile 6-7-8-9.
The great thing about this event is the music and the bands that are plating along the course. Most are ok. However around mile 8 there was a band that played the worst rendition of “I Shot the Sherriff” by Bob Marley. Think of a Thrash Metal band coving Reggae, yah, doesn’t work so well. I then think “Hey, they never said they were GOOD bands along the course.”

Mile 9- A lady I holding a sign saying “beer in just 4 more miles”. That was way before Mile 9. She lied! Mile 9 is here. 4 more miles. The thought of beer is not a good thought at all. Still it is something to think about. Mmmm, beeeerr. See, I almost forgot I was running.

Mile 10—Okay, I am feeling it, still good over all, but the little aches are popping up.
At some point I was thinking of a quote I saw on a friends blog, it stated “the first half you run with your legs the second you run with your heart.” It was in reference to Ultra-marathons, but I could relate, I needed this inspiration. I am feeling good, but not going to lie. I am feeling it and I am now reminding myself of why I started running, cycling, and other crazy active adventures.
My thoughts go to my family. My friends, people I love and care about that are fighting daily battles with health and life.

Keep running.

I start to get emotional in my head. I pull it together and think of how great I feel. Okay so I may lie to myself a bit. Truth be told, I did feel great. I was out here doing it. What more could a person ask for?

Keep Running

Mile 11- I am tired, I see my 2:30 pace sign go by, I was so good to hold them off until now. I think to myself “I can’t keep up this pace”. I am upset with myself. I got to walk/run in small bits. I was HOPING for a 2:30 time, but as the sign goes off in the distance I want to cry. I am hitting my wall.
Keep running. Break down the wall

Mile 12—My head starts playing games with me, I am asking myself “does that mean 12th and 13th mile left? 1 more mile? 2 more miles? 12 more miles?” yeah, I am spent. It is amazing how your head plays games on you. Normally I love numbers, math, playing with numbers almost constantly in my head. But now I cannot comprehend what this 12 sign means for my 13.1 mile run.

Keep running.

Mile 13—Oh, I know this game, I learned it last time I was here. The finish line seems right up around the next turn, it’s not, nor the next, nor the next. I am prepared. Prepared to keep running

Oh damn, a man collapsed less than 100 feet from the finish, that sucks. When I come by I see the EMT’s working on him. He is not good. Kind of a bummer thing to see, he is certainly unconscious, and in bad shape. I later learned the doctors were incubating him right there on the street, not a good thing at all.

Keep running.

Finish strong.

I go for my finish line sprint, yeah not happening, I ran in with all I had.

I cross the finish line to look at my watch 2:30:12. REALLY???!!!

I think to myself “HOLY SHIT! I DID IT!” Plus I don’t feel like barfing. AWESOME!!!

My new PR for a half marathon!!!

As I milled around the finish line, looked around the crowd my mind settled in again to my motivation. I did this today because others can’t.

Then I wanted to barf. Thankfully I never did.


Here is me and my high school friend and event cheerleader Kara at the finish line

Next event, Boulder Half Marathon in March.

Fruitcake Toss

What does one do with all that fruitcake after Christmas?

As a child I had a theory that there were only a few fruitcakes in the world and they were re-gifted year after year after year.

This theory was crushed when I saw my father actually EAT a fruitcake. I thought, "Well now there is one less. They will soon be extinct."

In Manitou Springs, for the past 15 years, we Southern Coloradoans know EXACTLY what to do with fruitcake.

TOSS IT!



See this man's form? He is winding up. Fruitcake tossing takes serious skill.


"My Daddy is tossing A Fruitcake"


The announcer. Who entertained us with tales of his fruitcake museum, tips of what to do with fruitcake and other life lessons. Such as, do not leave the dogs alone with the Fruitcake Museum, for they may eat it.

Did you know fruitcake was the first post-it note?
Can be used as an emergency sand-bag?
Used in place of bricks?
These are just a few tid-bits we were taught while we were spectating.

This is the man that won the Men's "Hand-Toss" division.

Holy far throw, Batman!!!
Someone check out that man's arm!

okay, it may be hard to see, but there is a circle with an arrow wayyyyy back in the picture. See it? (I need to work on my editing skills)

It got a little strange when my friend Jess asked for a photo with a fruitcake.

Then she touched his nuts.

Awkward

Next was the Heavy Equipment round.

There were Canon's, Catapults, Sling Shots, Bows, and




a gun.

The one that impressed me.

A gun, that literally shot the fruitcake THROUGH a door.
I am not kidding.

Now I am not a big fan of firearms, but that was fascinating. You could literally kill someone with that thing.

Death by Fruitcake.

Ponder that

The Bow had an amazing launch.

It was made out of skis



The ingenuity was amazing. Human power was necessary set up to fill the air compressors in order to shoot the canon and the gun. For the canon, a man rode this stationary bicycle. For the gun, three people with bike pumps pumped air into a compressor.



Now, you know exactly what to do with fruitcake.

2010 Rescue Run

Jan. 1
5k
Palmer Park
36:28

Horrible time but considering I prepped by drinking champagne and vodka until well after midnight and I rolled out of bed minutes before the run. I'll take it!

Notice the guy next to me. I think he drank a lot of champagne also.

Also prop's to 'Raisin' (I don't know her real name--damn Hashers) for providing mimosa's at the finish line. I love you.

Tour De Colorado Snowboard Festival

5 days, Three Mountains, a very exclusive list of participants.


Me.

Plus my trusty sidekick Sasha. (Someone needed to protect the car and/or condo while I was out riding.)

Along the way I did however run into some of my fan club.

Like this guy, rumored to be one of the top ski instructors in the state.


Or these little clowns. Watch out 2022 Olympics. They may very well be on the ski team.


This is all I see of them is their backs, because they are THAT fast.