My First Year in Dallas

Howdy! Hope ya’ll had a very happy Labor Day! This is my second Labor Day Weekend in Dallas, which means I’ve officially made it a year in Texas! Still a little shocked I survived this long, especially with the ever looming fear of contracting West Nile from the pesky, murderous mosquitoes you’ve probably seen on the news.  It’s kind of turned into a problem and I’ve taken extra precautions this summer by wearing nothing but turtlenecks, cargo pants, and mosquito nets fashioned into a Burka for when I go on my evening runs. I don’t mess around. I mean people are dying and I’d like to think my immune system is stronger than that of a 95-year-old man but let’s be real, we all have our off days.

Despite the fact that this recent holiday usually implies that people should take a break from working I have done quite the opposite. This weekend was moving time so I have had my hands full convincing strangers on Craigslist that they should buy my cheap Ikea furniture, boxing up my belongings, and spraying 409 on everything in sight.  I am pretty excited about my new place because not only do I finally have access to a pool and exercise facility, but for the first time ever I have a washer and dryer that doesn’t require quarters to start a cycle ! It really is the little things in life.

 Looking back this has been quite the year in Texas. I really don’t think I had very high expectations when I moved south last July with my friend Robbie (also known as Vobbie when I talk in my second language of Svedish) but I must say Dallas has had it’s unexpected surprises and it’s provided me with a host of new opportunities and experiences. Some of the top highlights would have to be:

1.     I finally got my first job as a Graphic Designer, which alone made the move worth it. At age 26 I was really starting to stress about how this whole career thing was going to get started but I feel like I’ve learned a lot this year and that I’m finally catching my stride as a designer.

2.     I ran my first marathon!

3.     After years of devoted television watching I finally met the talented, beautiful and New York Times best selling author Lauren Conrad. I’m talking about LC of Laguna Beach and The Hills and yes, meeting her was definitely on my “unwritten” bucket list. Where my fascination and love with her stems from I’ll never know. What I do know is I don’t think I’ve ever been more nervous in my life than during the meet and greet at Barnes and Noble to promote her new book “The Fame Game”.  I swear every teenage girl in the Dallas/Fort Worth area was there and I was a one out of five guys, three of which were boyfriends who were simply there to document the whole thing. Luckily I had my office BFF Marlee to provide moral support, take pictures, and she may have packed a few smelling salts in the likelihood that I passed out in front of Lauren. Fortunately I kept it together despite the fact that girls were literally in tears at the thought of talking to her and I was being asked questions such as “what are you going to say to her!?!?!” or “will it be weird if I tell her she’s perfect, because I think she is!?!?” When my turn came to approach the book signing table I literally had an out of body experience. I completely forgot my monologue that I had rehearsed and I had such bad cotton mouth that I could barely squeak out a hello. Even though things didn’t go as planned and I was reduced to acting like every other school girl in the room, Lauren was the sweetest and hopefully at the next signing I’ll be able to keep more cool, calm, and collected. 

4.     I joined my first softball league! My friends Bart and Jason somehow convinced Robbie and I to join their team, Taddy’s Terriers, despite the fact that all games were held on Sunday morning, which can be a bit rough for an A-List socialite like myself.  Not that I was worried at all about my talent because I used to be a pretty big deal in the Walla Walla Valley Farm League. Granted it was over 15 years ago but age is just a number. After my coach made the mistake of thinking I was cut out for the outfield he put me on 2^nd base for the remainder of the season and I must say it was a much better fit. Turns out my hand eye coordination with fly balls ain’t what it was in 3^rd grade. But the end of the season I was voted the distinguished and sought after title of Most Improved. By now I’m used to accolades and critics choice awards and obviously I saw myself more as the Team MVP but beggars can’t be choosers. Robbie got Best Defensive and although you can’t count on him to throw a ball to first and have it be in the general vicinity of the 1^st baseman he sure knows how to hit a home run.

5.     I survived my first twister!

6.     I’m fairly certain I’m on a reality show and no one told me/failed to have me sign a consent form.  Literally everywhere I turn I see a cast member from  A-List Dallas and Dallas Most Eligible. The person I see the most is Matt Nordgren from Most Eligible and I’ve run into him buying jeans at the gap, watching a charity fashion show, and most recently at a Tuesday night worship service for young professionals. We of course haven’t talked but I assume it’s because the producers are trying to start of feud between us. Last week I went for a run on Katy Trail and ran by Glenn Pakulak from Most Eligible and I debated talking to him about the whole thing but I’m pretty sure I wasn’t mic’d  and there didn’t seem to be any cameras in sight so I didn’t see the point of having the conversation. Bravo recently confirmed that Courtney is going to have her own show soon and I’m expecting a letter from producers begging me to be her sassy male friend. I”ll consider it, but I may need to call LC to get her blessing before making any final decisions.

But most of all, thank you to all the wonderful folks I've met during my year here. It wouldn't have been half as fun with you :)

White Rock Marathon

I finally did it. I ran a marathon.  Still not exactly sure what provoked me to do such a thing. Possibly, the fact that I recently turned 26 and am just beginning to come to grips with the fact that the prime years of my life were at least 4 years ago. Back when Jack and Kate were still trapped on a island, Lauren Conrad was still friends with Heidi Montag and Marissa Cooper had just OD’d in TJ.  Ahhh, the golden years. Thus with only a few more good years left before the arthritis kicks in, time is of the essence. And besides, bucket lists don’t check themselves off! I had it narrowed down to the race or skydiving so I went for the slightly less terrifying option.  I started training back in the summer but once I moved to Texas where it was a cool 100 degrees by 11pm, the whole workout plan sort of fell apart. Especially, after the 3^rd minor heat stroke. Once October came around I started to hit it hard again and was really starting to put some miles on my new pair of Asics. Then came daylight savings and although I hate running in the dark I tried to make the best of it. For obvious safety reason I started running with an elastic headlamp around my waist as a way to light the way as I frantically prayed to God to send down a few ripped guardian angels to keep me and my iPod shuffle safe. Unfortunately the baby muffin top I‘ve acquired from my mixture of a year living with mom’s home cooking/ being drawn to In n Out like a moth to the flame, had a knack for pressing the on/off switch as I made my way down the road. Giving off a sort of strobe light effect it’s highly likely I sent several night drivers into fits of epilepsy.  My bad. Safety first people!

The 3 weeks leading up to the actual marathon weren’t pretty. I had come down with a slight chest cold right before my birthday and it ended up staying with me for 3 weeks, which really put a damper on my training regime. I was starting to wonder if I should call it quits because I had never run more than 13 miles at any given time. Seeing as I’d already spent half my birthday money on this non-refundable gift I decided to suck it up and give it my best shot. After carb loading like a mad man the night before, the morning of the race I awoke at the ungodly hour of 5:30 am to the sound of torrential downfall. I was not pleased. I hadn’t really done my research on weather conditions for the day of the race so I wasn’t really equipped with the most appropriate attire. Luckily I had red emergency rain poncho that I’m guestimating I purchased back in 2002 and I’d been saving for a time of crisis. The time had come to break that seal and wave my poncho in all it’s glory, even if it did mean covering up my new slim fitting Dri Nike running shirt I’d purchased specifically for the occasion. I had totally dressed to impress because even if I didn’t make it to the finish line, I still wanted to look as Sporty Spice as possible.

I had 3 big fears going into racing day: 

Number 1 –

The possibility that I would shit my self myself mid race

Number 2-

The big unknown of where chafage might and most likely would occur over the course of four hours.

Number 3-

What would happen if my Ipod battery died and I no longer had the thumping beats of a Britney remix to keep me motivated??

As usual, I hadn’t done a very in depth research on marathon running and it wasn’t until talking with my friend Tamara the night before did I learn that it’s a common problem for people to poop themselves while running over long distances.  Thanks to a deadly combination of a generous helping of granola the morning of and pre race jitters, upon arriving at the starting line I had one of those “gotta go gotta go gotta go right now sort of moments.” Apparently I was not alone in the feeling and after standing in line for the honey buckets for almost 15 minutes I was finally able to take care of business before my ass exploded all over the streets of Dallas. I was sort of relieved in a way because I figured I probably wouldn’t need to go again for awhile, although due to my impromptu pit stop I was late for the start of the race and I totally missed the singing of the star spangled banner. When ya gotta go, ya gotta go.

Aside from the fact that it was cold, rainy and I looked like the red M&M with my bright red poncho and icy white hands….Oh and did I mention I had to keep taking off my glasess every mile or so to wipe away the rain with a torn up Hanes shirt?? Yeah, that made me feel REAL cool. All that aside, the first 20 miles of the race were great. I was excited to be there.  I was tossin’ back Gatorade and electrolytes gummies like they were Jell-O shots. There were lots of enthusiastic people with hilarious signs like ““It’s long and hard, so do it fast” ,“Beer misses you too”, “1 Hours till Margaritas”, “Just keep swimming”.  I was digging my playlist and I had gotten a dry pair of socks at mile 9 from Bart, Tamara and KT, which put a little spring in my step while the rest of me was soaked to the bone.

Then came mile 20. Like a freight train. Turns out the episode of The Office where Andy’s nipples start to bleed during the company fun run were based on true events. I mean I had totally put Vaseline on the ol’ nips but I think a mixture of rain and sweat had swept it away miles back. In other words my chest was beginning to resemble a crime scene. I sure didn’t remember this part of “Chariots of Fire”??!! Thank goodness I’d gone with the black windbreaker instead of the white one cuz that would have been embarrassing. I was desperately looking around for anything to ease the pain and was keeping my peripherals peeled for someone with a tube of lip gloss, Chapstick, a maxi pad….ANYTHING to form a barrier between me and my wet shirt. I eventually gave up on that dream and went with the no pain no gain mentality.  As if I weren’t in enough agony, my legs started cramping up like crazy around this same time and I was pretty much over the whole marathon thing by mile 23. I tried my best to imagine myself gliding along on a Segway but it wasn't really helping. Deep down I was praying some random civilian would come out of nowhere and go all Nancy Kerrigan on my legs with a crowbar. At that point they would have been doing me a favor. I know that was so the 1990’s but at least that way I would’ve had a legit reason for not finishing the marathon and still left with some dignity.

26.2 miles and a copious amount of pop songs later, and by the grace of God, I did make it. It’s all a bit of a blur after crossing that finish line because I’m pretty sure hypothermia was kicking in big time at that point and I hardly had the strength to peel a banana for nourishment. After slowly and painfully stumbling around the fairgrounds parking lot in search of my car whose location I had completely forgotten, I was finally able to crank up the heat and thaw out before losing any of my limbs to gangrene. What. A. Relief.  The craziest part of the whole thing is I kind of want to do it again….but next time I’ll be sure to have these….