Dream On.

I have a recurring dream that I’m back in Springfield going back to college and I have nowhere to live.

It changes a bit from time to time. Sometimes I literally have NO where to live and am thinking I’ll have to commute from my parent’s house. In last night’s dream I lived back in the sorority house. The funniest part of living in the house in my dream- was that I did not have DVR and I missed all the episodes of New Jersey Housewives. I just kept thinking- I can’t wait until I can go back home and get caught up on my shows. However, I was deeply grateful for the never ending supply of choco tacos and mango madness Snapple icees- remember those? Oh Donna…

Sometimes in the dream I can’t find a roommate. Sometimes in the dream I have to find an apartment really far from campus and DRIVE to school. NONE of these things ever happened.

Part of me thinks the dream means I’m not where I am supposed to be. Too deep? Probably. I had some vodka last night … that doesn’t help.

Someone I know might say I am yearning to find a time when I was not a vegetarian- so I could eat bacon again.

Yesterday I was talking about the poem I wrote in college that was put on the side of the bus- remember that, Bears? And I thought about how much I love words. I re read my favorite poem, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"… and how it sounds so painfully beautiful when you read it aloud… and I felt sad.

I wanted to be a writer. And now the closest thing I get to writing is this blog (kinda sorta), and quarterly reports, and witty gchats.

So maybe the dream means I need to focus on writing?

Maybe the dream means I need to focus on my house... fix the basement carpet I ripped up by myself.

Or maybe it just means I really miss mango madness Snapple.

Attitudes are contagious...

I got home last night and rather than greeting me at the door like he always does, Eliot was standing on the steps that lead to the basement… I couldn’t figure it out I just assumed he was hungry- because he is a huge fatty – so I went to feed him.

About 10 minutes later he was still in the basement. I went down and he was staring intently at the floor.. I just assumed a bug I couldn’t see.. so I went upstairs.

Two hours later he is STILL down there staring and what do you know? It’s almost like he was a detective cat! There was a leak in the hot water heater. Eliot reminds me of a little old man with OCD. He gets terrible anxiety if things are out of order and he also likes to follow the rules- which is why he is not so fond of Estella, the bratty bad girls club cat. Anyway- it's no surprise he was so caught up in this leak...

Anyway- the moment I noticed there was a problem, did my googling about water heater leaking, and called a plumber, Eliot was able to relax.

But the point of this post is not to talk about my cat’s anxiety. It’s mostly to talk about attitude.

In our sorority house, my friend Lindsey once posted a sign in our bathroom that said “Attitudes are contagious. Is yours worth catching?” It still rings true. And last night as I discovered I was about to shell out well over $1,000 for water heater repair, I realized in the grand scheme of things it wasn’t that big of a deal. I thought about how others may get pissed, and post something about how crappy it was on their facebook page, or just bitch about it constantly for the rest of the week. But why bother? It’s a water heater. It’s going to have to be replaced at some point. At least Eliot caught the issue in time and my floor won’t be ruined. Plus watching a cat so concerned over a water heater is pretty funny.

Basically you get two choices in how you can react to something like this.. you can get pissed and throw a fit, or you can deal with it and go back upstairs finish watching Top Chef and move on. Not saying that you can’t have your moments of being irritated.. but eventually you have to let it go. Because your attitude is contagious…

One of my favorite stories about having a good attitude comes from my mom (who when told about the leak says to me, “Oh that’s too bad. Do you want to hear a funny story?” And totally changes the subject. Classic Dtaylo.)

Anyone who knows Dtaylo knows she LOVES to gamble. A few years ago we were in Las Vegas for my birthday visiting Julia and Tim. We had gone to lunch at Mesa Grill (my all time favorite place) and mom realizes she’s lost her wallet. The wallet contains not only her money, credit cards, ID – but MY credit cards, ID as well… so she says “OH NO! I must have left it at the King of Cash slot machine!” So she takes off to go find the wallet. Julia and I pay for lunch and head off to find Dtaylo- we assume she’s at Lost and Found.

Nope. There’s Dtaylo at King of Cash again.

Kacee: “Mom, did you find your wallet?”
Mom: “Oh, I haven’t gone to look yet.”

Dtaylo had found a hot machine and she wasn’t giving it up for anything. She did find her wallet and thankfully only the cash was gone… but this story makes me laugh because that’s my mom’s attitude. She could’ve freaked out. She could’ve ruined the day by having a terrible attitude about the whole ordeal but instead she chose to assume that by that point if the wallet was stolen, it was stolen…

So she might as well make the most of the situation and try to go for the bonus.

I don't like NPR. There I said it.

I don’t like NPR. There I said it.

I’m a smart girl. I have a Masters Degree in International and Intercultural Communication (sounds fancy right?) I read smart books. I watch smart movies. ( I do however watch tragically DUMB tv) but I can’t stand NPR. I don’t like their mellow voices. That is all there is to it.

Worse than not liking NPR is being judged for not liking NPR.

You don’t listen to NPR?
No.
Really?
Really.
Why?
I don’ t like it. I’ve tried. I just don’t like it.
Oh. Not even This American Life?
No.

One of my biggest, craziest fears is that I will die without reading all the books I want to read. Therefore, I listen to books in the car. And sometimes I listen to one of my girlfriends who is on a morning radio show. And sometimes I have dance parties. And sometimes I sing really loudly to the Glee soundtracks. With hand motions.

My friend’s little boy doesn’t like chocolate… people are like what! You don’t like chocolate?

So to him and to everyone else out there who is left handed, or has never seen a Star Wars movie, or still has a Myspace… it’s ok to not like NPR. It’s ok to not like chocolate. It's ok to be different.

It gets better... but bad perms don't.

So a lot has been going on lately about bullying. Bullying comes from a place of insecurity and therefore breeds insecurity. Last night an incident occurred that I consider my “It Gets Better” tribute. Sadly, even as an adult it’s still possible to get bullied.

I remember being a kid and a teenager and hearing the boys on the bus or in gym class making fun of me for a whole host of reasons and thankfully I got over that. I may not ever like them, but I’ll be their facebook friend… because at this point? Who cares? And I also know that I was probably a bully too. I know that if I felt uncomfortable or wanted to fit in… the go to reaction is to make fun… and recognizing that I acted that way has made me a better person.

Last night some friends and I were at a wine bar and we were telling stories and laughing and probably being loud and my friend B. says about the couple across from us (a man and a woman) “I think they are talking about us.” So I look over and the guy at the table says DO YOU HAVE A PROBLEM? Taken aback, I say …no… First of all.. who says that? second of all... I didn't have a problem.

Then the two proceed to make fun of me… well, my hair… calling it a bad perm. Ok- there are MILLIONS of things to make fun of about me… but my hair? Really? Ok. So this goes on and on and they are being obvious about what they are saying and doing (which is drawing a picture of my “bad perm”)… and it was completely obvious that they had nothing else to talk about except our table… and the lovely Amelia Earhart from Channel 9 news… sitting next to us. Who seemed to be on a first date or something? Anyway.. she’s really tall.

As this went on I thought… make fun of me all you want… I’m probably way better at it than you.. so my friends and I start laughing about all the real reasons they should make fun of us… because let’s face it… we are all our own biggest bullies.
So I need to use the restroom and I decide it’s time to confront them…
I went over to their table and squatted down and said, "Listen if you want to make fun of me letme give you some real reasons because my hair is naturally curly." then I was like here are some actual reasons you should make fun of me and listed a few things about myself… and then I said, “I'm sorry that you and your friend are having such a bad time that the only thing that entertains you is making fun of other people." And then I got up and went to the bathroom...

My friends had no idea what I had said to them. I go to the bathroom and in my mind a fist fight must have broken out… they must be screaming back and forth with my friends… but then I get back and the couple is paying their check and left without a word.

It just goes to show that remaining calm and speaking with intelligence is bully kryptonite.

And don’t mess with a girl with naturally curly hair. We’re feisty.

Did you win?

“Did you win?” asked Landon after the marathon. For those of you who don’t know, Landon is 3 and one of my biggest supporters.

So now that it’s all said and done what do I think? Well, from mile 22 through mile 25.5 I thought this is the dumbest thing I have ever done in my life. But my mom says it’s just like having a baby- you forget the pain. AND a little part of me really wants to try it again…

Before I forget- here are a few minor details about the race as a whole:
1. The Denver police were AMAZING! They did a great job of controlling traffic and were so encouraging… every time we passed they would say looking strong or way to go… love it.
2. The Rock n Roll portion of the race was not so rock n roll. If the bands weren’t on breaks.. they were playing like slow jamz.
3. The cheerleaders along the way were the best! There were Denver Metro high school cheerleaders along the course and they were so enthusiastic and it really helped.
4. Also the text messaging alerts that told my friends and family where I was along with the fact that friends could watch the finish line online was really cool.
And now…

Here’s a rundown of the day:
4:30 I get up and get ready. Everyone knows I am quite a planner so I had everything laid out and ready to go. We take pictures like it’s the first day of Kindergarten, Kristal arrives to drive my parents around town.
5:30 I hear my mom open up the champagne in the back seat. I get jealous. No mimosa for me.
5:55 Kristal reads me a list of funny quotes from Modern Family to make me laugh.
From 6- 7:21 it’s basically waiting for the port a potty, finding our corral and standing… and by 7:21 we finally cross the starting line.

Things are going great- we are laughing- running a good pace- feeling strong—singing Fresh Prince of Bel Air. .. and then we get to City Park.

Right in front of me I notice my office mate, Linda. Linda is probably the greatest inspiration for me when it comes to running and in so many ways she is my Colorado Mom. She is running the half… So I run next to her for a bit and say, “I’ll text you when I finish” and she says, “I signed up for the automatic texts so I’ll know when you finish.” Me= waterworks. I was so touched. So I run ahead and Kara asks, “Are you crying?” and I said “Um, no.” Liar.

So City park isn’t too bad. I see friends, we see some pretty great signs, most people are in great moods, lots of cheering… then we hit Cheeseman and I see my friends and family… super exciting… and still feeling good and strong about mile 11 and then we have to separate. Vivian and Nathalie have to go one way for the Half Marathoners and Nicole, Kara, and I go the other way. In my mind I thought- they only have two miles to go… and I have 15. Ouch.

Once we turn that corner it suddenly became silent. The street opened up and rather than seeing hundreds of people line the streets we saw just a few. Granted- the people who were out were amazing- handing out everything from water to donuts, to Twizzlers to beer. Denver people know what’s up. Also one house kept playing Don’t Stop Believing…

We also totally pick up our pace at that point… probably because there was really no one else around and we didn’t have any crazy hills to contend with…. But Cry #2 came right around mile 13 when I overheard some dude say “We’re running a marathon!” and I was like HOLY Toledo! This is real. AND really far from being over…

So I’m having fun and feeling great until we stop at the port a potties at mile 15 and I get a look at myself in the mirror and think uh oh… I don’t look so hot… and by that I looked super hot. Red face… frazzled… and my fuel belt was starting to hurt me… I trained with it so I felt like I should run with it. Note: Not doing that again.

Miles 15-20 were in Washington Park… and as a general rule I don’t LOVE running there. I love the park- but all the loops make me crazy. And this was even worse because now there were even more loops… At this point Nicole’s dad joined us and ran along for a bit and that was cry #3.

Side note- the first thing in the morning Jill sent me a text that says, “You’ve got this” and that is what I told myself the entire time… “you’ve got this, you’ve got this, you’ve got this.”

At mile 19 I saw Joan from work and that made me feel better and then I handed off my belt to Nicole’s parents- assuming at that point I would now be able to run like the wind. Wrong.

Around mile 20 I had to walk for the first time… it wasn’t necessarily that I hit the “wall” but I was having a hard time breathing. So for the rest of the race I ran/walked until about mile 25. I was never in any pain physically I was just SO tired and could not catch my breath.

At mile 21 I see all my friends and family and realize for the first time … Oh.. they have TEAM KACEE shirts on… surprisingly I didn’t cry then… but probably b/c I needed all the fluids I could get.

We’re finally out of Wash park and things are going ok with the walk/run until at mile 23 I realize we have to basically run up and back down a bridge. But the worst part is that there is NO place for anyone to stand along the sidelines and cheer.
This is also when I began to see other people struggling… a lot of other people were walking at this point too. I had to keep my eye on Nicole and Kara ahead and I would let them get just so far ahead of me then I would run and catch up and do it again. I’d even told them at one point if they needed to leave me I would be fine.

At mile 25 I realize we are almost there and I really expected this surge of adrenaline to kick in and I’d run so fast and just finish. NOPE.

It was tough, it was mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausting. When it was over I just walked around with my medal in a total daze… I didn’t know what to do or think or feel.. Meghan took a great pic of me just sitting there with a smile on my face, but my eyes are totally glazed over… I had no words.

And in the winner’s photo on the marathon website Ronald McDonald is standing there clapping… um first of all huh? And Second of all… where was he when I finished?
It was truly the best feeling in the world to know that I had so many people supporting me along the way. I mean people were wearing shirts with my name on it? WHAT? How unbelievable is that?

So what now? I just spent the last 8 months mentally preparing, and the last 4 months physically preparing… so now what do I do?

Again- a huge thank you to everyone. It meant so much knowing that I had so many people on my side. Not just during the race- but all those months of training. Yesterday I was finally able to catch up with all the texts and facebook messages and I was completely overwhelmed with all the love.

So to answer Landon’s question- yeah I guess I did win.

Way to go Jogging Babes... much love to you all!

It's the final countdown... nah nah nah nah... nah nah nah nah nah...

So I love running, I do.

I love getting up super early on a Saturday and running for three hours. I love going for coffee after and laughing about whatever ridiculous thing happened during the run… like the Santa Claus walking down 13th, or the number of times Kara fell, or the fact that we sang the entire theme song to Fresh Prince of Bel Air out of nowhere and we all remembered all the words. I’m thankful to the Joggin Babes who kept me going… ps – we didn’t name ourselves the joggin babes… some kind stranger once yelled out “Hey, it’s the Joggin Babes!” and though creepy - at that point we needed that support-so the name stuck.

That being said… I hope I continue to run after this marathon… who knows what will happen and if I’ll continue with full marathons… or if I’ll stick to halves. I am SO happy I did it… BUT I am ready to have my life back.

I’m ready for my pants to fit again. I didn’t realize my thighs would get so huge. I thought they’d get small and cute… wrong.

I’m ready to say Yes, I can attend that function…

I’m ready to go to the gym and do something other than run.

I’m ready to STOP eating bananas.

I’m ready to stop worrying if my toenails will turn black or fall off (neither happened).

I’m ready to start drinking mimosas at 9 am on a Wildcat Saturday.

I’m ready to not spend a weekend lying under bags of frozen vegetables. From my experience- Brussels sprouts work best.

I’m also ready to finish this as a thank you to all my friends and family who have stood by me and supported me the entire way. More than anything I’ve learned that I am one lucky girl. I can’t believe how many amazing people I have in my life.

I’m ready to cross the finish line....

and then drink a really big, ice cold beer.

Natural Gatorade = Natural Disaster

I know you all are DYING for updates on my training… but first what you REALLY want to know…

1.Last night on Big Brother After Dark, Lane used Just for Men on his beard. It stung a little and Hayden thought he should have left it on a little longer so it would be darker, however, Enzo thinks it’s dark enough.
2.I watched the entire second season of Everest: Beyond the Limit and ANOTHER documentary on Mt. Everest. It’s like I’m stalking the mountain. Last night I was recognizing landmarks without the help of the narrator. Seriously… this has gotten out of hand.

This last weekend marked my longest run to date. I woke up at 5:30 on Saturday… drank my coffee.. watched Big Brother and ate my Power Bar. I met my friends at 7 and thought.. ok last week for 16 miles I drank only Gatorade during the run and I felt great. I’ll do that this time- but because I’ve lost a bottle on my fuel belt (which would normally just hold water) I’ll bring an extra Gatorade with me. And not just regular Gatorade… “NATURAL” Gatorade—bought on a whim at Whole Foods. Spoiler Alert… this was not a good whim.

So we’re off. I drink all the Gatorades and I’m feeling ok until we climb a huge hill at about mile 16… we’ve had to stop because of traffic a few times and I really am not sure my legs can take it… but even worse- I realize that my stomach can’t take it… in fact it’s pissed about this Natural Gatorade and wants to make sure I know it. I’m already sensitive to sugar … and the “natural” gatorade was sitting like a rock in my stomach and I feared the worst… I’ve seen the pictures.. I know what can happen.

I tell the girls to go on ahead when we reach mile 17… I’m going to have to walk. I couldn’t believe it. I’d made it 17 miles and I was going to WALK the last mile? I jog/walked the rest of the way… and as my stomach began to feel better, my ego felt worse.

On my drive home I called my mom nearly in tears. I felt like a failure. I didn't make it... and I should have. However, two of my friends ran 12.5 miles on Saturday rather than the 13 they’d planned. Was I disappointed in them? No… I was happy for them and excited… so why would I be so hard on myself?

I went home and paced around the house… I couldn't relax and I couldn't even get into my post race routine … I just couldn't get it out of my head that I didn’t “RUN” 18 miles… I couldn’t see that what I had accomplished was a pretty big deal.

Yesterday I was telling my massage therapist about it and she says, “Kacee, you are stupid.” That made me laugh 1. Because she is Ukrainian and her voice always sounds like she’s scolding me and 2. I realized she was completely right. One way or another I accomplished my 18 mile training run… and it’s called “training” for a reason. So for the next five weeks I’m not only training my body, I’m training my mind and trying to realize that sometimes everyone has to walk.