Thursday, September 1, 2011

Jamaica - Retro Diary (Part Two)

For those of you catching up with my recent blog posts, this is Part Two of my Jamaica Retro-Diary. If you have not yet read Part One, click here!

So where were we....?

Our awesome balcony!

So after standing far too long gawking at the awesome view from our balcony, we finally decided to get some food and explore the resort a bit while it was still light out. So we left our room and walked down to the main beach (which our room overlooked) and promptly found "The Sand Trap", a small outdoor bungalow that was open for lunch. I ordered Jamaican Jerk chicken, because I had already had a Red Stripe and needed to immediately immerse myself in the Jamaican culture! The chicken was excellent (for sake of my readers' time, I will not detail every piece of food I ate on this trip...you can imagine what the two of us took down in seven days).

First meal in Jamaica - Jamaican Jerk Chicken!

We then made our way to one of two resort pools, both of which feature a swim-up pool bar. We quickly jumped in the water and swam up and met my two new favorite bartenders, Brian and Martin. For the entire trip, I'm not sure I ever actually ordered a drink. I just went up to them and said "Surprise me" or "Give me something I've never had before"...sound logic, I know. Within ten minutes of being in the pool, we heard someone yell "Pool Shots", and before we knew it, we were taking a shot of some sweet liquor while Brian the Bartender sung "Ain't no party like a pool bar party, cuz a pool bar party never stop!" Suffice to say this would not be the last time we heard this song, nor was it the last "pool shot" of the trip...not by a long shot.

Pool Bar!

By far, the toughest part about the trip was choosing where we wanted to eat, as the resort boasted an impressive eleven restaurants. But we decided to pace ourselves and have faith that we would, by the end of the trip, have tried them all. I'm not sure if I'm ready to dedicate an entire blog post to the different restaurants of Sandals Grande Riviera (or if my readers can stomach more Jamaica-blabber), so for now I will tell you that we ate a TON, and seeing that it was an all-inclusive resort, we certainly did not skimp on our choices!

Julie at Neptune's, our first dinner stop.

After dinner on our first night, Julie and I ventured out to the pier surrounding the property and found a fire-pit with a huge sofa lounge. We quickly sunk into the couch and were set in a trance from a combination of the cool evening air, a solid meal, the lapping of the water on the rocks, and a long day (and night) of travel. Before I knew it, I found myself opening my eyes after a 30-minute siesta and looking at Julie with a "Where am I look?" Yep, it was official...Marc was on vacation!

Julie at the fire-pit sofa where I crashed the first night.

Every night the entertainment team at Sandals, known as "PlayMakers" (not Playmates, which Julie frequently mistook them), had some sort of entertainment planned for their guests, and we took advantage of it. Over the seven nights we saw a steel drum band, talent show, a reggae band, swimsuit fashion show, two dance-parties, a reggae-style Jamboree, and a beach party. We befriended one of the PlayMakers and hung out with her a few nights, which made for some entertaining evenings when she was teaching Kelly (our friend from Toronto) how to shake her booty, while I shamelessly took notes in the corner.

Steel Drum band at the amphitheater.

We spent the next day, our first full day at the resort, exploring all the different beaches, pools, bars, views, cabanas and restaurants of the hotel. We settled at one of the far beaches and got working on our tans. And of course, no beach day was complete without the hotel staff checking on the level of our cocktails every 15 minutes! After a couple days of straight drinking and sun, Julie and I realized we were going to have to tone down both, as we were on pace to start looking like leather-skinned drunks by the end of the trip.

One of the pierside cabanas.

View of the far beach.

As I mentioned before, we started to run into Ryan and Kelly everywhere at the resort. Whether it be at one of the pool bars, the beach, the action sport center or dinner, we couldn't seem to shake them (I still think they were still just trying to figure out if I was actually Ben Stiller). Finally we gave into our stalkers and started meeting up with them every day for a meal or an activity. It was definitely great to actually meet another couple at this couples-only resort who wasn't a) on their honeymoon, b) engaged, or c) celebrating an anniversary (not to mention the fact that Julie would have probably gone nuts spending eight straight days with me, with no human interference).

Julie and Kelly at the Jamboree.

When we made our way to the second pool bar, we met Bishop, the crazy bartender whose favorite saying was "WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY....WHY NOT?!", a saying that had an eerie resemblance to to the birds in Finding Nemo that say "Mine, mine, mine!" Whether we liked it or not, this line would stick with us for the rest of the trip (much to our own chagrin).

Now, no trip would be complete without me taking 18,000,000 photos, right? Well, not only did we bring my camera, we brought two more (a point-and-shoot and Julie's nice one) to ensure that every square inch of the resort would be digitally remembered. I definitely made Julie pose for more than her fair share of photos, but I figured, "Hey, I'm in Jamaica and it's pretty. My girlfriend is in a bathing suit. Need I say more?" It's just simple math, people. I know this blog post has some select photos featured to help show what I'm referring to, but if you'd like to see more...you can click here for my full Jamaica album.

*NOTE - These are just the ones from my camera. If you start to notice photos of only Julie, there is a reason. I managed to steer clear of most photos. If you want the ones with my goofy mug in them, you have to contact my lawyer (Julie).

Me and Kelly learning some new moves.

About midway through our trip we decided to take advantage of a very unique activity covered in the "all-inclusive" umbrella - GOLF! For those of you who have been to an all-inclusive resort, you know that it includes food and drink and some activities, but it almost never includes golf. But Sandals Ocho Rios allows you to play any of its courses for free (although you do have to pay for a caddy). So Julie and I knew this in advance, so we brought our clubs along with us on the plane and prepared for a day of golf in the tropical Jamaican heat!

Smidge and me on the last hole.

The night before we golfed, we met a caddy named Rudolph (who told us he went by "Rudy", but when he wrote his name down as a referral for the next day, he spelled it R-U-D-D-Y). So when we got to the course, we asked for Ruddy Rudy and he caddied for our 9-hole extravaganza. The course was in average shape, with lots of slopes and hills and relatively solid greens. Julie was able to get some great tips from Ruddy Rudy, and by the end of the round, she was starting to hit and putt lights out! Golf was one of the best parts of the trip, as we were able to get off the resort, see some more sights, had a great guide in Ruddy Rudy, and just enjoy our wonderful vacation. Taking our clubs and playing golf was the best decision we made, by far.

Julie and our caddy, Ruddy Rudy.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention one of the dinner restaurants we tried. A few nights into the trip we made our way to Kimono's - a Japanese-style restaurant where the chef stands in front of you as he cooks your food. As if that weren't enough entertainment, the chefs coerced their guests to bang their chopsticks on their plated to whatever beat he had in his mind at the given moment. After drumming to Johnny B. Good, Billie Jean and other songs, we all had certainly worked up an appetite. After all the food had been eaten, our chef had one last game he wanted to play. He placed a shrimp on his spatula and wanted to toss it to us and catch it in our mouths, no hands. And who was the first to volunteer? JULIE!!! Not only was she the first to try it, she caught it first try and triumphantly thrust her arms in the air as if she had just won the Boston Marathon. Epic highlight.

Shrimp tossing at Kimono's.

*FUNNY SIDE STORY* - Our chef at Kimono's started the evening by asking the four couples at the table where they were from and what they were celebrating. Julie and I were last in the line. The first couple said they were on their honeymoon. Then the second couple said they were on their honeymoon. Then the couple seated next to us said they were on their...you guessed it....honeymoon. Then he came to us and asked "And what are you celebrating?", and before I even had time to answer, my trusty sidekick pipes up next to me and yells, "LIFE!" Yep, that's my girl...proudly celebrating life amongst honeymooners.

The resort offered all sorts of amenities, bars and activities on a daily basis, including random things like darts, life-size chess, a sports bar and a piano bar. And yes, we hit them all. In addition to those activities, the resort also offered complimentary water sports, including sailing, wind surfing, snorkeling, scuba diving, paddle-boarding, aqua-tricycles, and glass-bottom boat tours. During our stay, Julie and I opted for the aqua tricycle, paddle-boarding and snorkeling off the glass-bottom boat.

Julie before she got KILLED in giant chess.

Cruising on the aqua-trike!

During our one hour snorkel, I kind of separated from the group and started diving down low into the reef to look at some of the bright fish. All of a sudden, I heard another person yelling underwater (you know, that underwater "MMM! MMM!" sound) trying to get my attention. I turned to see Julie frantically waving at me, so I went to the surface and she said "There is a stingray over here!" My little adventurer had ventured away from the group as well, and sure enough she had found a huge ray. I swam to her and then dove down deep to glide over the top of it. It had a four foot wingspan and was about three feet long (minus the tail), and it was actually spotted! I asked our guide later and he said that was actually an Eagle Ray. Definitely one of the highlights of the trip. Point for Julie.

One of the nights of the trip we went to the "Hot White Chocolate" night, which was basically a giant chocolate bar with tables covered in different types of chocolate. And the kicker? We all had to wear white! Who thought of that idea?! Anyone that knows me knows that I have a major problem with eating without spilling, and now they are combining chocolate and white clothes?! I am happy to report that I did not spill a single ounce of chocolate on myself, although I must admit I curbed the amount of chocolate I ate for fear of inevitably staining my awesome white linen pants.

White Night!

Toward the end of the trip, we signed up for one of many off-site excursions offered by the resort - a catamaran cruise to the Dunn's River Falls. The cruise included an hour of snorkeling, then a hike up 800 feet of cascading waterfalls (hiking in the water), then an hour-long booze cruise back to the resort. The snorkeling was so-so (not nearly as good as the eagle ray sighting the day before), but one of our guides was really cool and dove down to the bottom and gave Julie and I an abandoned sand dollar that we got to take home. You can imagine how customs suspiciously eyed that piece in my luggage on the way home! The guide also picked up a spiny sea urchin and cracked it open and fed all the fish with the insides! The fish swarmed his hand like bees on a hive. It was unreal.

The hike up the Falls was spectacular. The water was much cooler than it was at the beaches, and it was actually quite refreshing as we started our trek up each set of waterfalls. There were tour guides who held your camera for you and took photos along the way, and they made sure we knew they were doing us a favor, as they hovered next to our catamaran yelling "We took care of you," obviously waiting for their tip. They deserved a tip, but man, did they hound us!

Dunn's River Falls

The booze cruise back was one of the most bizarre experiences in my life. After serving some appetizers, they busted out the Red Stripe kegs and opened the bar and people made their way out to the deck where they played music and started dancing. The crew was extremely lively and did their best to make sure everyone was having a good time, had a full drink and was ready to party. About thirty minutes into the cruise, they announced they wanted to play a game, and needed "a brave man" to participate. I looked around to see who would volunteer, and before I knew it, there were quite a few hands pointing at me (the effort no doubt led by my not-so-awesome girlfriend). So they called me up, had me sit down and asked me to hold a plastic water cup between my legs. Odd, right? Well, then they called up four female participants, including Julie, and gave them a full water bottle with a hole poked in the cap. Then they were instructed to place the bottle between their thighs, and when the whistle was blown, they walked toward me and tried to squeeze the bottle with their thighs and spray as much water as possible in the cup between my legs in 30 seconds. If you're not sure you are understanding this correctly, let me remove all doubts...yes, the basic goal was to pee on me as much as possible. So the four girls took their turns aiming at the cup, except for Julie, who took it upon herself to just spray it all over my face and chest, giggling the whole time. Suffice to say Julie did not win (she got second), and after four girls taking their turns spraying me, the game ended. Anybody else find this to be the weirdest game ever?

...the game...

One thing I failed to mention earlier is that we were in Jamaica during thunderstorm season, and there were predictions of rain and isolated storms every day. We were incredibly lucky, and had absolutely picturesque weather until the final day, where we encountered a three hour thunderstorm that had bright lightning and equally loud thunder. The clouds that rolled in looked like the spaceship in Independence Day that covers the entire sky. It was very eerie and pretty cool to watch develop. We got rained on a bit on our way back to shelter, and ate some lunch as we watched the staff clear all the soaked towels off the chaise-lounges. We walked back to our room, and before I could even put my stuff down, Julie raced out to the balcony, opened the doors, and started dancing in the rain in her clothes. You could tell the girl was on vacation and had just let go of everything and was enjoying life. Needless to say, for anyone that knows Julie and her grueling job, it was refreshing to see.

Independence Day storm.

That night, we met up with Ryan and Kelly for drinks and dinner, and as they came into the bar, Kelly had a larger-than-normal smile on her face. Before we could even ask, she held up her hand to show off the new ring she was wearing! Damnit Ryan! We were the only two couples on the whole damn resort that weren't engaged or married, and then you propose on the final day?! His first question to Kelly after he had popped the question was "Do you think Focker is going to be mad?" We were very excited for our new friends, and we laughed about it the rest of the night, as Julie and I enjoyed every minute of being the only two soldiers still standing amidst the litany of engaged and married troops around us. As Julie says "We = Awesome."

This is our idea of a "not engaged" photo.

Our final night at the resort was perfect. After dinner with Ryan and Kelly at a big beach party, we made our way to the beach-side nightclub at the resort and ordered drinks from the shore. We kicked off our sandals and talked and danced in the sand and reminisced about the trip and how much fun the week had been. Ryan and Kelly finally left Julie and I on the beach around midnight, and Julie and I just started dancing on the beach, just the two of us. There were people all around on the pier, but we were the only two on the beach, and we just let loose. We didn't care about anything. We had no shame, no embarrassment, no inhibitions. We just danced and laughed. It couldn't have been any more awesome. And besides, I wasn't about to leave Jamaica without busting out all my crazy-good moves.

Chillin on the shore outside the nightclub.

Our trip back to the states was not without incident. To shorten the story, let's just say we waited two hours in customs in Charlotte, then another thirty minutes in security, and then ran as fast as we could (well, as fast as I could to keep up with my runner-girlfriend), and got to our boarding gate in time for the flight attendant to tell us they had held the plane for us. We caught it by three minutes. After another lengthy delay on the runway, we began our trip back to San Diego. They lost our golf clubs on the transfer, and after waiting for two hours at the airport in San Diego at 10pm, we left with the assurance they would be delivered the next day to our house (which they were).

All the airport/airplane mistakes in the world weren't going to ruin this trip for us. It's the best trip I've ever been on, and I wish I was still there. Julie and I laughed every second of every day, we met some great new friends, ate tons of food, got tons of sun, drank tons of booze, and relaxed for seven straight days. It was, as they say, just what the doctor ordered.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Jamaica - Retro Diary (Part One)

At the beginning of this month, Julie and I spent one incredible week (eight days, seven nights) in Jamaica, where we stayed at Sandals Grande Riviera, Ocho Rios, an all-inclusive resort in a beautiful part of the island nation. The resort was an adult-only (no kids allowed) that only allowed couples (no singles allowed). It was paradise.

Given that this trip was seven days and jam-packed with activities and stories, I have decided to write a two-part retrospective diary about the trip. This is 'Part One' of a two-part series, where I detail the journey to Jamaica, and the setup of what would turn out to be one amazing week. We hope you enjoy our trip as much as we did (I know it won't be as good, but hopefully you can take a relaxing break from your Excel, Word or Outlook and breathe easy as you take a retrospective journey to a tropical paradise).

JAMAICA RETRO-DIARY: PART ONE - "THE JOURNEY"

The trip started with a red-eye flight (10:30pm) from San Diego to Charlotte. Being someone who has trouble sleeping in his own bed, you can imagine my concern with the thought of not being able to sleep on a plane! To calm my nerves I had three glasses of wine at home (don't worry folks, mom drove us to the airport). We got through security at the airport relatively quickly, and had some time to kill. We started walking inside the terminal, and like an oasis mirage in a desert you see in the movies, a beautiful site presented itself to Julie and I...Karl Strauss! Feeling the need to sedate myself in any way possible, we went into Strauss for another beer, Red Trolley, which was excellent. At the time we did not appreciate the fact that we would be drinking beers that start with "Red" the rest of the trip. "Hooray Beer!"

As expected, I slept ZERO percent of the flights, despite my attempts of alcoholic self-tranquilizing. Our flights were relatively uneventful, save for our one-hour delay in Charlotte en route to Montego Bay, Jamaica. The delay occurred out on the runway, but surprisingly this didn't affect my travel partner, who, after sleeping the entire 4.5 hour flight to Charlotte, promptly slept the entire delay on the runway. As we took off, she stirred and woke up and said, "Are we running late?" Oh, how I envy her.

Upon arriving in Montego Bay, we went through customs, which always takes longer than anyone would like. Standing in a line of B.O.-smelling, Hawaiian shirt wearing, Teva-wearing tourists is nobody's idea of a good time. As we got to the customs agent, I realized I was traveling with an experienced world-traveler when Julie pulled out her passport and had to find a page with any sort of open space to get stamped. I, on the other hand, opened mine to the first page and got my first international travel stamp. Mommy wow, I'm a big kid now.

After winding our way through the aforementioned Teva-travelers, we got our first taste of the hospitality that awaited us at the resort. Around the corner from the customs line was the Sandals Airport Lounge, where all Sandals guests (there are seven Sandals Resorts in Jamaica) were welcomed into a private, beautiful, air-conditioned lounge. We were immediately handed a cool towel, and were instructed where the bathrooms were, as well as the light refreshments. After cleaning up a bit, I made my way to the refreshment area, where I expected to find water and lemonade. Instead I found myself grabbing a cup and pouring myself a Red Stripe straight from a tap. Welcome to Jamaica!

Julie getting refreshments at the Sandals Airport Lounge.

Sandals Ocho Rios is about two hours away from the Montego Bay airport, and as part of our all-inclusive package, the resort runs shuttles to and from the airport to pick up its newly-arriving guests. After forgetting to fill my Red Stripe for the road, we were herded out to the "shuttles", which ended up being more like a sketchy, stretched-out 1994 Mazda MPV. We were divided up into groups of eight, and we met our driver Frederick and we were on our way.

When we weren't praying for our lives or gripping the hand-rails as tight as possible, our shuttle-ride was our best chance of seeing the countryside, as we would end up spending most of our time on the resort. So we took in all the tropical sights and beautiful water, while also noticing a few heavily-armed officers on street corners. The country of Jamaica is relatively poor, with many of their buildings lacking a roof or running water. It is always somewhat of an odd feeling to spend a week of pampered, spoiled activity, seemingly oblivious to the world outside the resort gates.

During the shuttle ride, we introduced ourselves to the other couples and had some idle chit-chat about travel and where everyone was from. After we exchanged pleasantries, we all started enjoying the scenery and starting to decompress and work our way into "vacation mode." And about five minutes later, a very sweet girl from Toronto seated next to Julie looked at me and somewhat shyly said, "I'm sorry, I have to ask...has anyone ever told you that you like that Focker guy?"

For those of you that know me and my distaste for "that Focker guy" well, you can imagine my response. I rolled my eyes emphatically and politely said "Yes, unfortunately I get that a lot," to which she replied, "I think he's funny."

The best part about that story? We ended up spending the majority of our time on the resort with that couple from Toronto (Ryan & Kelly). More to come on them later.

Ryan & Kelly

After a quick stop at a local gas station where we were able to watch a game of cricket, we competed our trek to Sandals Ocho Rios. Upon arriving at the hotel, we went to help our driver with the bags, but before I could even get my hand on the bag, one of the Sandals employees raised his voice and said "No, no no. You are on vacation now. You don't touch that bag until you're in your room!" Sir, yes sir!

Maybe the single bets part of the trip came when we set foot in our room. We immediately looked straight ahead to find ourselves with not only an ocean view, but with a huge, shared balcony with three other rooms. This may not sound that impressive given that we're in Jamaica, but one thing we learned as we looked up at the rest of the hotel was that there are 500 rooms, and only FOUR have walk-out balconies...and we had one of them. And the kicker? We didn't pay any more than anyone else...we just got lucky with our room assignment!

Looking out to our balcony.

Our killer balcony.

Needless to say, we were awestruck. While I struggled to keep my mouth from gaping open, my travel partner/roommate/girlfriend was having trouble holding back tears. She was absolutely in heaven with the setup, and she just couldn't believe we were in Jamaica, in the most perfect room, with seven nights free from phones, work, e-mail and the constant buzz we so desperately needed a break from.

And so our week had begun. We had made it to Jamaica and survived our moderately-scary shuttle ride. Now it was time to get into "relaxation mode", and see all there was to see at the Sandals Grande Riviera...

Stay tuned for Part Two, where we encounter aqua tricycles, dance competitions, eleven restaurants, toe-sucking fish, pool-bar parties and some of the craziest people-watching you've ever seen.

See you in Jamaica!

I Owe You All a Post

So I made a mistake. As soon as I got home from Jamaica, I should have put together a blog entry recapping the trip highlights, complete with some photos. I know some of you have browsed through the photos on Facebook, but they is still so much that we left out.

I am going to attempt to back-log this trip and post it later (within the next week). I apologize for the delay in this.

It's going to be a beast of an entry!

Friday, July 29, 2011

Oh Hey, Blog World!

Wow, I haven't posted since June 9th? I bet you all are wondering what the hell happened to me and my blogging. Well, if any of you read the last post, you'll understand that I've been recovering from the half-marathon ever since. You know, running kills your typing fingers...

But enough with the excuses! I'm back and now have to figure out what I'm going to write about! While I come up with my next extensive blog topic, here's a cornucopia of Marc's Random Thoughts to hold you over:

SINCE WHEN ARE WE GROWNUPS?
It is only July, and between Julie and I, we have figured out we have at least six weddings to go to in 2012 and we've got two close friends that are pregnant and due this week! What the hell people? When did we stop running at recess and getting grass stains on our knees? And when did we start trading in Ring Pops for engagement rings?

JAMAICA!
Yep, that's right. Next week Julie and I take off for a one week vacation to Ochos Rios, Jamaica! You can imagine how excited my camera-happy self is right about now!

NFL & NBA LOCKOUTS
What a bunch of fools. I have followed the NFL lockout closely, and I have a relatively good understanding of the collective bargaining agreement and the respective sides of the lockout (i.e. owners vs. players). And with all that being said, I still only have one sentiment I'd like to share with both sides...SHUT THE HELL UP, ALL OF YOU! Lockouts in professional sports should never happen. Owners have so much money, they don't know what to do with it so they spend it on "high quality investments" like the Detroit Lions (sorry, Tom) and Sacramento Kings...(yes, sarcasm). Players are getting paid millions to play a sport. I can understand why Kobe Bryant feels he deserves more money than say, Brian Scalabrine, but their scale is so warped that Scalabrine (a 4-minute man) still made $1.22 million in 2010-11. But these lockouts are sickening.

*SIDE NOTE - Prior to the NFL lockout being lifted, I could have still guaranteed you they will come out of this, and be fine. Because they are the NFL, the world's largest sports operation. But let me be clear on something...The NBA is not the NFL. After its rise to prominence peaked in the mid-90's with Jordan winning titles like crazy, the NBA suffered horrendously as they developed a perceived reputation as a "thug" or "hip-hop" league, and they spent over a decade trying to rid themselves of that stigma. And in 2008, they were back in the public's good graces, thanks to some huge trades, an influx of young talent, and some old-school teams returning to their roots with some major rivalries (i.e. Lakers vs. Celtics). They held this through this past year. And now they are throwing it all away. The public does not need much ammunition to remind them of their old sentiments about the league, and the NBA lockout is enough. Hearing about players wanting more money, whether right or wrong, is disenchanting for us fans. We all have real lives outside of sports, and when the "privileged few" start raising hell over their Escalade, mansion, Bentley lifestyle...we want to vomit. Just watch...the NBA will suffer from this, and it will be their own damn fault.

OTHER SUMMER ACTIVITIES THAT MARC HAS ENJOYED
1) SUP Boarding - Julie's friend lent us a stand-up paddle board for a week, and it is awesome. Took it out in the ocean and rode through the surf, and learned to surf the waves as well on it. Cruising out beyond the waves is so relaxing.

2) The Wire - I watched Seasons 1-5 of this show and was hooked from the beginning. If you enjoy police detective type shows/movies, I highly recommend this. This show effectively makes you connect not only with the police officers, but for the drug dealers as well.

3) Surfing - Been surfing 2-3 times per week, and loving it. The water is ridiculously warm, which just makes it that much more awesome. Seen lots of dolphins, bat-rays and tiny schools of fish over the last month, too.

4) Beach Cruising - I bought Julie a beach cruiser for her birthday in June, and she hasn't stopped riding it yet. I have a little mountain bike, so I am able to ride with her. But she is obsessed! We ride everywhere...from the Farmer's Market two blocks away, to Encinitas bars/restaurants (8 miles round-trip). It's been another good source of exercise for my out-of-shape ass.

Oh yeah, did I mention I'm going to JAMAICA?!

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Marc + Half-Marathon = Humbled

As I mentioned earlier this year, I signed up to run the Rock 'n Roll Half-Marathon in San Diego, which was this past Sunday, June 5th. I always said I had wanted to complete a half-marathon, and this was the year I committed to the training and race...or so I thought.

Back in March, my training started off as one might expect, with short mileage runs a few times a week. I slowly started to increase my mileage to four runs a week averaging between 3-5 miles. I had a very solid training plan in place, as well as consistent motivation from my roommate/coach/girlfriend. I was feeling good about my commitment to the race.

Then in mid-April, nagging injuries started to rear their ugly head. I developed some pretty gnarly shin pains, which then made their way up my leg to my knees and hips. I ended up developing some tendinitis in both knees, and my training began to suffer. Over the course of the next two months leading up to the race, I was only able to extend my long run to 6 miles. Yes, SIX, as in less than half of the target distance of 13.1 miles.

And then, before I knew it, it was the week of the race. How the heck was I going to pull this one off? The stress levels the weeks leading up to the race got worse and worse for me, worrying about whether I should run the race, how my body would hold up, would I be risking worse injury by running, etc. But I was resolute in my decision to run this half-marathon, regardless of the physical toll it may take on my ridiculously unprepared body.

I am lucky enough to have three of the most awesome friends in history of the planet. About three months prior to the race, I had convinced my friend Heidi to complete the half-marathon RELAY with her husband Tom, who happens to be my best friend. Now I'm pretty sure Tom still fosters some hatred toward me for convincing his wife (over a beer) to make him run this relay without him being there to take part in the decision, but nonetheless, these two wound up being integral to my race-day strategy.

So on race-day, Heidi ran the opening leg of the relay (which, by some sick twist of planning, ended up being 8.2 miles...not the 6.5 miles one would expect for half of a half-marathon relay), and we decided that since I no longer had aspirations of beating a certain time, but rather just finishing, I would run with Heidi and try to enjoy the race atmosphere with a friend. So Miss Positive and I took off at 6:15am and she hung right on my hip for all 8 miles of her leg, smiling and keeping my mind off my legs the whole time.

At the relay transition zone, Heidi passed the baton (which by that time, I'm pretty sure I was the baton) off to Tom, and he decided to forget whatever time goals he had, and dropped back to stick with me for the remainder of the race. I feel bad for Tom...cuz he got me when I was hurting bad and not a happy guy. Heidi had me when there was still some adrenaline running through my veins. So Tom and I set out on my tortoise-speed pace for the final 5 miles, all of which began to feel miserable, as my legs started to give.
*SIDE NOTE* - At no point did I have problems breathing or side-aches or wheezing. My endurance seemed fine. I attribute this to a much slower pace than I had intended when I started my training. I am certain that if I went out faster in the beginning, I would have suffered in more than just my legs.

As Tom single-handedly pulled me from miles 9-11, my condition suffered greatly. By the time we passed the 11-mile marker, my body was spent. I had lost the "bounce" of the running pace. I was literally dragging each leg for every step. And worst of all, I had broken down mentally. I did not think I had another step in me, and certainly not another two miles! I told Tom to leave me at my pace and go on and finish the race, as I continued to slow my pace. With a look of minor disappointment from Tom (I couldn't blame the poor guy after he tried agonizingly hard to keep me motivated for two miles), he took off to finish his leg of the relay.

I then found myself facing the biggest physical challenge I'd ever encountered...and I was on my own. No positive Heidi. No best friend Tom convincing me to dig deeper, believing I had more in me. And my own motivation to finish was wavering, as my mind wandered somewhere between the pain, the seemingly endless distance to the finish line, and a rapidly increasing feeling of disappointment in myself, as I found myself actually walking. For a grown man to realize he doesn't have what it takes is a tough thing to stomach. But I could not let myself just walk this race the rest of the way...I had to find something inside, but I had no idea where to look...I felt done.

I walked for about 25-30 seconds just past the 11.1 mark, and then gave myself a spirited pep-talk (although the people around me were almost certainly thinking I was suffering from mild delusions and had turned into one of those hobos that curses the world, while never really directing his words at anyone in particular), and tried to re-gain the running pace. The speech worked, as I began to rally (although I'm not sure what I was doing at that point could actually count as "running") and trolled my way through the remainder of the course...very slowly.

And then, right when I was coming to the conclusion that I had nothing left in my legs to continue running, who should appear but my kick-ass girlfriend who, after finishing the half-marathon in 1:26 (12th fastest woman), decided to weave her way back through the course and find me. There I was, looking like I was running in place in quicksand, when Julie came flying into the course, looking as if she hadn't yet run her race, and somehow found a way to get my legs moving again. All of a sudden, I had the third person of the day helping me get through this damn race, and I needed every one of them.

So Julie and I trudged the final 1.5 miles together, sometimes in spirited running, sometimes in dead silence after I told her "no more talking the rest of the race" (yes, I actually said that to my girlfriend trying to coach me...I know I know, I'm a dick), and sometime just trying to see straight. At this point I knew I was going to finish, but with no clue when or how.

And then I saw the clock.

Now before I go any further, I should say that because my training did not go as I had hoped, I no longer had any idea of how long this race would/should take me. I figured it would be somewhere between 1:50 and 2:20...with no real clue which of those ends was more likely.

With about half a mile to go, I saw that I had about four minutes to break two hours. At this point, this was neither exciting nor disappointing...it was just the easiest goal to set for myself at that point in the race. So I looked to Julie and said "Make me break 2 hours." She nodded (I think she was still shocked she had been told not to talk the rest of the race) and kept running. The pace picked up, then slowed dramatically, and I had no clue if I was going to break the 2-hour mark. Then, as Julie and I got to the final chute, I saw the finish line within close distance, and I yelled "C'mon!" like a crazed war-cry, and turned on (what felt like) the jets and floored it down the final turn. I kinda scared Julie with the shout, and before she knew it, she was trailing me as I dragged my 50lb shoes through the finish line.

The Final Time - 1:59:35

My body started cramping as a volunteer put the medal around my neck, but I was proud to have finished my first half-marathon. And then I was immediately humbled when the volunteer went to give Julie her medal and she responded "Oh, I already finished earlier." F-M-L. I love her, but F-M-L.

I walked through the runner area, grabbing all sorts of bananas, raisins, power bars, water (and air), the whole time Julie sticking by me telling me she was proud of me for finishing, despite my training setbacks. I probably acted like I didn't hear her, but I did. And I was proud to. But not of myself....

I was proud to have the three friends that were the sole reason I finished that race. Heidi kept me smiling and my mind off the daunting distances that lay ahead for those first 8 miles. Tom gave me the necessary kick in the pants combined with positive encouragement you could only get from your best buddy. And Julie gave me hope and reason to finish. By the time Julie basically picked me up off the floor when she found me, I had to finish the race because I owed it to those three to finish. They sacrificed their own races, their own days, to make sure I finished, regardless of what it did to their times, their bodies, and their expectations. They had one goal in mind, and it was to help me meet mine.

Those are some good friends. The best friends, actually.

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Catchy Commercials from Childhood

No idea why, but I had some random commercial jingle from back in the day stuck in my head this morning. I used to annoy the crap out of my sister by singing commercial jingles all day as a kid (one of my favorite memories = annoying my sister). Anyway, thought I'd find the links of some old jingles (some of which even out-date me) that always find their way into my head!

CARAMELLO
Stretch it out out out, Caramell-ooooo!

MATTRESS DISCOUNTERS
Have a good night sleep on us....Matt-tress Dis-count-ers!

DOUBLE MINT
Double double your refreshment,
Double double your enjoyyyyyment,
No single gum double freshens your mouth liiiiike,
Double Mint, Double Mint, (oh it's the Double Mint),
Double Mint, Double Mint....Gum.
THERE"S NO SINGLE GUM LIKE IT.

HONEY NUT CHEERIOS
It's a race for the taste, of Honey Nut Cheer-eeee-O's!

LIFESAVERS
I never knew the words to this song, but I always loved this commercial. I'm just gonna let you watch this one for yourself. Enjoy!

BAGEL BITES
Pizza in the morning,
Pizza in the evening,
Pizza at supper time!
When pizza's on a bagel,
You can eat pizza any time!

ALKA SELTZER
Plop Plop,
Fizz Fizz,
Oh what a relief it is,


Which ones do YOU remember?

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

How Are We Already in May?

How in the world are we already in mid-May? Guess it's time for a quick "Land of Marc" update:

1) Two of my UCLA friends (1-4-3) are getting married this weekend up in L.A. Gonna be a huge reunion of all the UCLA people I used to cheer with, sleep with, eat with, tailgate with, camp with, plan events with, throw frisbees with, brush my teeth in a science lab with, jump up-and-down and yell "Ohhhhhh" with, look like a doofus with, and much, much more. I can't wait.

2) Next weekend is my work's annual Jack in the Box "Hoops at the Beach" tournament in Mission Bay. We're expecting around 160 teams to take part in this two-day 3-on-3 basketball tournament, and crossing our fingers for good weather too. If you're bored and looking for something entertaining to pass the day, check out this video from last year's Slam Dunk contest. These guys were ridiculous. Best dunk contest in the 24-year history of the event:

2010 "Hoops at the Beach" Slam Dunk Contest


3) I am still planning on running the San Diego Rock n Roll Half-Marathon on June 5th...and it's not gonna be pretty. Training has been severely affected by an annoyingly consistent barrage of injuries, and now the race is right around the corner. Let's just say my goals have changed from wanting a certain time...to just finishing.

4) I love the comments from the "Board Game" blog post. Let me know what other nostalgic topics could be fun for me to explore!