Another reason to make sure the schedule is correct! No Surf City for ME this year!

I couldn’t sleep. Woke up and checked my e-mail to get the “Final Instructions” for Surf City … and realized that it was the 1st NOT the 8th! When your cousin writes the best betting information in the nation … one would think I would know when the bloody hell Super Bowl was, but I biffed it! I’d already made my travel arrangements and although I could move the flight, I couldn’t move the hotel — great deal but non-cancellable.

POOP!

Ok – after leaving a few “I’m so frustrated” teary messages on fellow racing friends’ phones, I started thinking logically and calmed myself down. Although I am not thrilled about spending the money for the room, I’m less thrilled with losing not only the race fee but the room cost. Not on your bloody life!

1. I went in to the Goofy injured and came out a bit more beaten up than I thought.
2. I haven’t been able to train properly for the Surf City 1/2 because of 1 above.
3. I’ve got my first judged 20k next month in Huntington Beach and, in the grand scheme of things, that’s more important right now.
4. I’ve never really taken any sort of a vacation … really … uh … ever!

On 4 … Seriously! I have never really just taken myself someplace to kind of be someplace. I’ve done a little travelling with boyfriends or friends in the past, but it’s been a bit of a destination reason: Seeing my Grandmother in New Hampshire before she passed away, Going to Jazz Fest, Going to New York for the AES Conference … dang … I’m boring, hu? So – this time I’m going to Huntington Beach … a place with coastline … and I’m going to go … rel… uh … I can’t say the word.

I’m going to go and figure out where the Huntington Beach race will be held and find an inexpensive lodging situation.
I’m going to go to this neat coffee shop I found in Seal Beach and another one just up the coast from that.
I’m going to train next to the ocean …
I’m going to the ocean.

Sigh … the ocean … a landlocked San Franciscian – Tiburon Bay Girl … is a sad thing!

You know … that’s the big thing … I’m going to my beloved Pacific Ocean to recharge … and if it’s pouring rain … I’ll deal with it!

Patti and the Post Half!

 

Two tired and hungry girls who had their Duck Medals!

Ok – So I finished my race and was getting my leg all covered in ice. I wondered where my buddy Patti was. She said she was going to be behind me as she’d not been able to train well and had been sick. It was probably safer for her to be behind me because in the 5k for Camp, I’d accidentally stepped on the back of her shoe, popping it right off. In fact, probably the last thing she said before we took off was “Hey Lizzy – don’t take off anyone’s shoes!”

Well … it’s a great way to deal with the competition, right?

Anyway – it was a little crazy when we ended and I was seriously bummed that we weren’t able to get a photo at the end just of the two of us. I’d tried Roger’s phone, but must have put the number in wrong after Patti’s and my marathon pre-race conversation. I did my TNT check-in thing and then figured I’d try one more time on the phone before I tried to figure out if there were any characters of interest to have a photo with.

Put a fork in us ... we're done!

I couldn’t believe it – Patti and Roger were JUST LEAVING! We stayed on the phone while she walked backward through the gates. Now, it’s really important to remember there is a … uh … slight height difference between Patti and myself. I figured she would have seen me as I was still walking about in my ears, but it turned out I spotted her! She was tired, hungry and they had an agenda … I believe it was Waffle House –> hotel to pack and shower –> Epcot for Champagne in France. All I waned was to eat and get out of my clothes. A couple of times when I thought I was dumping water down my back, I was dumping Powerade. GAK!

Several jokes about how pathetic I looked with a leg full of ice and, truly, waddling like a duck were laughed at. It was true … I was kind of being careful about that right leg.  Even more of a giggle was the fact that I have the tech shirt that goes with the shorts she was wearing. Through Camp, we’d decided I had no sense of color with what I would choose to wear. I proved this in my “swimsuit cover-up” outfit.

 

We were thinking about getting group shots with the Disney Characters, but I’d not yet found out where they were located and, lets face it, we were both really tired! We’d done it, however. AND we’d found each other before and after the race. It was probably better that we didn’t go roaming around.

Patti was the first voice I heard on my phone post Marathon … one happy chirping upper damn awesome pal!

And … next year, Girlfriend, I’m going to France with you guys!!! 🙂

Patti goes to France! Cheers!!!

I’m so proud of you, Girlfriend!!

The Girls … and the Gingerbread … yes this is going to lead into the Marathon Report at some point!

What a trustworthy group of Blondes! The Blonde Racewalking Girls behaving themselves ...

 Ok – I think I wrote about Racewalking Camp and my new Partners In Crime – Patti W (of Florida), Linda J (of Virginia Beach) and Lisa W (of Calgary, Canada). (back to front: Lisa, Me, Patti, Linda) Patti and Lisa were in one house and Linda and I were in the other … if we were all together in one, I’m sure we would have had entirely too much fun and gotten no sleep at all … good move on Dave’s part sort of separating us! The three of them met earlier as I was on the earliest flight out of Denver that landed in the early afternoon … but we’re a pack now!

The second to last afternoon at Camp was time to all go hang out someplace. Patti’s husband Roger came down for the night and since they have annual passes to the Disney Property, they knew the free places to go. The interesting thing is that precisely where we were was right at the last part of the full marathon (see there’s a reference) – and if it wasn’t for the memory of the afternoon with The Girls, I think I would have really lost it! Ok … it just kept me focused!

We all met at the Disney Boardwalk for lunch. I’m sure I posted the Gang photo. It was great fun, with the probable exception that I spent more on an appetiser and cocktail than I would have on a full dinner normally … but it was nice.

While we were waiting for our reservation, the small pack of us went in different directions. Linda, Lisa and I went over toward the Swan and Fish (I think that’s what it’s called) hotel. I’d only seen it from a far, so it was cool to see it up close. (as soon as I get photos, I’ll update this) Linda and I have a very … similar … personality … so the Terrible Two wandered about the lagoon where we ran into these two guys who were there from Minnesota (?) or Michigan for a candy conference. They had a t-shirt that caught my eye.

After a bit of … coaching … Linda, Lisa & I had our photo taken by these two. I knew the walkway we were on as it was part of the Marathon I’d done two years previously. We wandered back to the restaurant, met up with the rest of the gang and ate.

It's only because my legs are longer ...

Afterward, most of the gang wanted to go back to the houses Dave’d rented. Patti, Lisa, Linda, Roger and I wandered the shops and over toward where the race went. Since Patti and I were the only two who had done the Disney World Marathon, we had memories to share … and there were many comments regarding my lack of sanity doing the Goofy.

When we got close to Epcot, Patti made sure I saw … the Green Gates … Ok – they’re the doors or gates or whatever leading to the end of the race. Of course I thought that pretending to climb over would be a great fun idea … but as I popped my head over, I saw a Disney Security Transport … um coming in the general direction … pop down … I looked over and we play acted again!

The cool thing was the Boardwalk, as I say, was free. We probably should have tried to take the boat ride and gone along the waterway, but we were having a grand time with Linda zipping around with her camera and all being a crazy group of Blondes (I just realized that now!).

 

There was a candy shop that Patti and Roger wanted to stop at. As the person who brought about 15 chocolate bars to share with my housemates, candy shop sounded lovely. I’m not sure if you are familiar with Pixie Sticks, but when I was a kid, they were these huge plastic tubes filled with flavored sugar. Sure they had the tiny little paper tube ones too … but the big plastic ones were enough to give dentists fits – or the full knowledge that they’d be able to put their own kids through med school on the cavity charges! Anyway – Patti became a happy 5 year old filling a tube with different flavors of sugar. The funny thing, of course, is that we four are within a couple of years of each other and our happy 5 year old is a step-grandmother!

this thing is huge ... that's me in the corner in the red to give you an idea!

As we were leaving, Patti said “we’ve got to see the Gingerbread House!” Um … trust the locals! I wanted to give them a map so if we were going to be able to hook up at my hotel after Patti and I finished the 1/2 we could.

 

 

The hotel was decked out in Holiday Finery. We weren’t quite at Thanksgiving, but it was Christmas in Florida. Of course, we were in the middle of a Florida cold snap and it kind of felt like Christmas. The smell of fresh gingerbread was amazing. I couldn’t believe my eyes. This thing is huge – that’s me standing relatively straight over on the right.

 

What you’re to do, however, is find the little golden Mickey Mouse ears that were hidden in the display. They weren’t all that easy to find actually. In the side view of the house, Patti is in the flowered shirt looking for the Golden Mickeys … complete with see-through Pixie Stick!!

The other side of the house Patti searching

 

The very interesting thing about this is that absolutely every bit – from the walls to the railroad tracks to the tree inside and Donald and Daisy – was created and edible! When I was enjoying some Fish & Chips at the pub on Consumer Island the day before the 1/2 marathon, my 24 year old/8 year survivor patient honoree Brittany and I met the wife of the man who is responsible for making the thing!

 

It truly is amazing, however. I was hoping that the others had seen it too. It did turn out that the others

Stitch in the Box

saw the gingerbread house because when we got back for dinner that evening, I think it was Loretta who said Dave had something for me.  He’d used his brand new – he’d washed the other one a couple of days before Camp started – Blackberry to take a photo of  Stitch In The Box for me … I have now raced Disney 2x with the Stitch ears on … The Goofy was a bit hard because 2 days in a row and the things start to dig in as they’re Children’s size!

Earlier in the day, he did ask me, while we were wandering about the shops before lunch, about the reason for the ears. I smiled and said I liked Stitch – a well-meaning, slightly perplexed by humans, sometimes short tempered alien creation … I would have been surprised if he’d made some “derisive” comment because, after all, he is the man who wore Mickey Mouse glasses during much of his racing career.

 

I tell this story about The Girls and the Gingerbread House before I write up my notes on the Marathon because I was thinking of those crazy friends while I did my event. I was even wearing the Mickey Mouse charm I’d picked up when we were goofing around wearing hats … it’s on the long silver chain in the photos!

Massage rocks!

Last night I showed up at my friend Jackie’s … limping and still in pain. I probably should have made the time a long time ago, but I didn’t … I sit here this morning feeling unlocked and a log better. I’m carefully moving because I know that it only has been a matter of hours that I’ve been unlocked, but … dang … great massage works!

Randomness

Over the weekend, I started reconnecting with some parts of my past and this has had interesting reprocussions. Trust has never come easily but tossing out the rubbish of the past is coming along nicely.

Trust isn’t something that comes naturally. Of course, it is somewhat funny to have this read on an Internet blog, but it is the truth. I’ve been accustomed to those who operate from “what’s in it for me” that I can see that long before I can accept that people actually want to know me for who I am vs. only what value I have for them. It’s a very new feeling, however I am not so blind as to realize that different people know me in different ways and are afforded different amounts of access.

I guess I have always thought there had to be more to life than the petty games people play on one another and prey upon those they feel to be weaker. The problem, of course, was that I couldn’t seem to extracate myself from the spiky game players because they seem to be everywhere.

I was talking with a friend of mine who has become, actually, a great deal closer than I would have anticipated. In one of our marathon conversations, I came up with a Solar System of Friends. There are those who have been around for a while and have their own orbits … there are others who are like comets and flow in and out; burning brightly then retreating maybe to come along again.

The head injury of 2K4 … or was it before then, I’ve forgotten … was a real turning point. I’d been surrounded by a lot of the past and had it constantly closing in on me. Chronic depression and thoughts of blindly playing in traffic were usually counterbalanced by some strange inner survival mechanism which has kept me wandering the planet even after a lot of the horrors I found for myself. It was interesting when my memory was temporarily suspended how people would attempt to re-write the history that I had with them to their betterment … or, in more interesting cases, attempt to state “Your memory is faulty … this is how it *really* happened …” when I knew better.

I know I’ve written about my memory before, but here we go again. I’ve had to have an encylopedic memory of events in an effort to keep from having things used against me by those whom should know better. It’s been that way for the majority of my life, and keeping those hurts open has just invited more. It’s sapped so much because of constantly being on guard. I know that having to have a detailed record of things open on the coffee table has just invited pain because that’s all I’ve truly known. I was taught I was only as good as a person as a resource I was for others. Nothing more and a whole lot less than the worth of those more ‘powerful’ than me around.

Power does not, however, come from bullying or forcing … but is something that stems quietly from within. Using and abusing others by force of personality creates a deficit and a bad habit. Life is very long and those deficits do add up.

I have learned, over the long course, that giving doesn’t mean sacrificing onesself and taking doesn’t mean non-acceptance. I’m surprised that people don’t get this, but so be it. I’ve made a boatload of mistakes, but on the whole I’m probably a lot happier because I’ve learned from them.

I love to compete, but it’s more important to be a gracious competitor who can balance individual accomplishment with humility. A friend of mine was blown away that now twice I’ve finished races and then waited in the rain or while feeling extremely sick to cheer them in. I finished a race that I get laughed at for doing because it’s not a “serious” race, then went back to collect friends and cheered everyone behind me in. Does this make me a weak competitor or human being? Maybe … but this world is so full of one-up-man-ship that it makes me sick.

I’ve been accused of being too weak to be a true competitor. I’ve been laughed at and told that because I don’t act like others or have their outward confidence that I’m never going anyplace. The fact I don’t have my life in proper order and that I have to work to get my training in proves that I have no clue as to priorities. I operated last year with a chip on my shoulder – feeling like I *had* to power through and all I did was hurt myself. I stopped caring and started acting as one who didn’t have anything worthwhile to stick around for – and found myself not only injured but constantly behind on everything. Nothing was of importance – and I was living 3 weeks behind.

I sit here in a towel – typing this randomness – and thinking aobut how different things might have been had I didn’t have to re-live the horrors of my life and do such, as usual, alone. However, I’m realizing that by looking at those horrors, closing the book and putting it on the shelf, I’m getting happier and stronger. As I drag out the refuse that has been littering my life, I’m not looking at the bags as they get carried to the curb … because it’s not worth re-living … and those who are bound and determined to force-feed me their versions of events or make certain I re-live them are just no longer worth my consideration.

The best part of the head injury/memory loss has been reconnecting with people whom I might have completely embarrassed myself during one of my many periods of self destruction. I’m past those periods now that I know from wence they were birthed. It’s like being able to start a new chapter without really having to re-read the previous ones.

“Ah, Lizzy” said an old friend a long time ago. “Miss Lizzy, Dear, you think just a smidge too deeply and care even deeper than that.” I agree.