The Fat Lady Has Sung

There are a few things in my world that are officially over.

First thing's first.... 

My brother's tour in Iraq

Dallas is coming home, y'all!! 

He lands in the USA on Friday morning. Thank you Lord for keeping him safe and bringing him back in one piece! I am devastated I can't be there, as I'll already be in California. 

Ever since he left, I had a plan that when he came back I was going to wear some sort of ridiculous red/white/blue outfit and hold a sign that says "Welcome Home". So Dallas, you can bet your bottom dollar that the next time I see you, I'll be in an embarrassing patriotic get-up holding a homemade sign!! So get ready!

Auburn's Defense 

Ted, there is nothing to fist pump about.

Oh, Ted Roof. What are you doing down there on the Plains? Y'all can't see the forest for the trees. This is the SEC. You've still got Florida, LSU and Alabama to deal with. Get your head out of your *(expletive also meaning "donkey")*.

Tampa Bay Rays Cinderalla Story, part 2 

Defeat in the Dugout

The night they came back from 7-0 to beat the Yankees and clinch a playoff spot will go down in history as one of the best nights of baseball ever played. Unfortunately for the Rays, the Rangers had a different idea of who should go onto the ALCS and knocked them out in game 4. Sadly, the Cinderella Story of 2008's Tampa Bay Rays could not be repeated. I have to say its so fun to see my city get pumped up about our teams, whether it's the Rays postseason or the Lightning hockey playoffs (and the Bucs....well...I guess back in 2002 it must have been pretty fun?!)
I kid, I kid. Kind of.

Phillies World Series hopes 

The Phillies limped off the field in a literal sense on Friday night after their game 5 loss

With the best record in baseball and 3 all-star pitchers, one would assume that a team could do some work and at least get to the NLCS. But alas, Philadelphia, you never let us down easy. Not much else to say about the Phillies except they have warranted a place on failblog. But, it does bring me to my next team.

Philadelphia Eagles - you call that football?!

A missed tackle - imagine that

 Let's be honest, I can't say that I am as die-hard as Prateek, or that I literally bleed green. But, I do love football and I've taken them as my NFL team and have earned the right to be pessimistic. What you see out there on the field is not football. It's a bunch of very talented guys, running around wilder than a peach orchard hog, trying to deal with the ridiculous play-calling coming from the sideline. Oh, and the defense is apparently still trying to learn how to tackle. Any pee-wee teams in the area want to show these guys the fundamentals? 

Just stay away from Auburn's playbook for God's sake.

I'm not sure who on the sideline will take the blame at this point, but there is talent oozing out their ears and they don't know what to do with it come game day.

At least there's the Flyers. 

Last but not least.....

Marathon Training

 

The grueling months of training are finally over!! This week, I get to eat as many carbs as I want, wear flats, do a few light jogs and do some yoga. Sunday morning's forecast is perfect - a low of 54 and high of 63 degrees. I can already taste the salty air coming off the San Francisco Bay.

I don't know what I'm going to do with myself after it's over (besides sport that Tiffany necklace around like it's going out of style!), but you know what they say: when one door closes, another door opens!

Go ahead and sing, fat lady. You can't scare me. 

Someone Would Love to Have My First World Problems

After re-reading my post last week where I complained about life in general, I realized that I kinda sounded like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum because I didn't have things going the exact way I'd like them to. Consider this a public apology for being a brat.

Everything I complained about was what some might consider a "first world problem", AKA "white whine". As in,  my minor inconveniences seem ridiculous to other problems in this world.

It all made sense last Saturday. 

I decided last minute to sign up for a 10K. I haven't technically "raced" since the Gasparilla Half Marathon this past February, and felt that it was necessary to get myself back into a race-pace mindset before the marathon (which is next weekend already). It was a Susan G Komen "Race for the Cure", so there was sure to be pink everywhere. And who doesn't love pink?!

At the starting line, sporting a new sweaty band and my lucky race ribbon. And pink shorts, of course.

There isn't anyone close to me that has had to deal with breast cancer, but I figure it's a good cause so I ponied up the $30 to do the race. 

I hadn't done a short distance run in at least a few months, so I had no clue what my pace was going to be. I figured I'd be slower than I was before my injury, so guesstimated about a 8:30-8:45/mile pace. I got lined up ready to go between the 8/mi and 9/mi pace markers and tried to remember what it was that you're supposed to do before a race - set up my playlist, stretch, check out the competition in my pace group, things of that sort. There were only about 750 people that raced the 10K so it was nice having personal space. 

This is my "game face"

I overheard some of the women around me talking about their chemotherapy treatments, and where they found wigs to cover up their hair loss. There were proud husbands on the sideline sporting homemade buttons with photos of their wives attached to their lapels with "proud of my survivor" printed on top.

That's when it hit me like a ton of bricks.

I forgot about the stress of everyday life. I tossed aside the overwhelming nature of training that had overcome me in the past few weeks. At that moment, I felt extremely lucky and almost guilty for thinking that I had it so tough.

Sunrise over the Bay at the starting line

The gun went off, and naturally there were people not lined up in the proper pace areas. There were walkers at the very front who caused traffic coming through the starting line. Usually I would be irritated and give them the stank eye, but that morning I just smiled. Good for them for getting up early to stay active and walk a 10K, after God-knows-what they've gone through.

There were a few women proudly wearing their 'breast cancer survivor' shirts in front of me, complete with hot pink feather boas and pink socks, which left me in a quandary- Is it bad race etiquette to blow past the survivors?

I paced myself with a few guys that were racing in memory of loved ones, which not only helped me run faster but also gave me motivation. I can't relate to breast cancer, but you bet your bottom dollar I'm familiar with the "C" word in general.

I think this was around mile 4

Before I knew it, I was finished. 49:00 flat. A sub-8 pace! A new PR (personal record). I have no idea where that came from, but it gave me a boost of confidence that I needed to tackle next weekend's marathon. And it also reminded me that I'm pretty darn lucky.

I topped off the day with an Auburn win, and a Phillies win too. 

P.S.

By the way, speaking of the Phillies...

I laughed harder than I can remember in a long time, right around the top of the 6th inning during Saturday's game. 

I didn't get it at first, but after figuring it out my inner 10-year-old couldn't. stop. laughing.

I begged ESPN via Twitter to show the highlights on SportsCenter. 

I leave you with these images:

 

See the kids with the towels, behind Pujols? Here's a closer look: 

God Bless Philadelphia.