Motivational signs

I just ran a half marathon in Nashville, Tennessee.  Yes, three weeks ago I ran a marathon in Paris, France.  No, I'm not on a mission to kill myself.

And the truth is, I don't even LOVE running.  I like how I feel when it's over.  I like being part of something that is "larger than me".  A community of people with common goals.

EVERY time I participate in a sporting event, I think "I hope I'm doing this when I'm 80".  Looking around at a group of people all trying something.  Trying.  Doing.  Less than 1% of the world population has ever completed a marathon.

We forget those things when all our friends are doing it.  When everyone we know does it.  We are just a little "blip" of the world.  All shapes.  All sizes.  All participating in something "bigger".

But something even greater than the participants?  The fans.  The crowd.

The individuals on the sides of the race cheering the participants on.  They are the best.  I don't think they know what it means to have them say "Keep going".

Even though we train - or we don't - it's the "fans" that help us out.

In Paris, after I saw my family, there was a huge group of volunteers all in green shirts saying "Andele, Andele"  (Hurry Up! - in Spanish) Those two things kept me going for at least a mile.

Or the German crowd with "Hop, Hop"  (once again, Go, Go)

And in America, there are signs.  I don't recall any in Paris or Athens - but they are all over the USA.  Signs, that make you smile and take away your thoughts from the pain.

"U are the only TEN-I-SEE"  (took me a few minutes to think why that was funny as there is no "I" in Tennessee)

"I tried running, but I kept spilling my wine"

"All 30-39 males, turn here, I'll show you a short cut"  (from cute girls at a corner)

"The only thing we run is up a bar tab" - from the cute college boys near Vanderbilt

"Go, Elise, Peter and Random Stranger"

"Growing out your bangs was harder than this - keep going"

"Mom, we are hungry - hurry up!"

"Have you seen my dad?"

And how the kids lined up along the way?  You have to give them a "high five" it makes their day.

Or not the sign, but the guy with no legs running on the "running legs" with his Army shirt on.  How can you pass him?  Yet, how can you not keep up with him?

Oh, yes, then there is a lady in a wheelchair on a corner, with her sweater on and a blanket over her legs - she's holding out her hand.  Cheering everyone on.

How can you not, go let her cheer you on?  They tell me, people came from across the street to touch her hand.  Later a random stranger will stop her to tell her thank you for cheering her on - she touched her hand.

But for me, she is my Granny.  She lives in Dallas. I live in Denver. She turns 85 tomorrow. I turn 45 in a few weeks. We are here to celebrate our birthdays together - in Nashville, TN.  Neither one of us had been here before. It doesn't get much more motivating than that.

Sure, that's great

We had this great, incredible, wonderful time in Europe.  And you know, the very first question from EVERYONE is?  Are you going back to Hawaii???

Yes, we get:  did you enjoy your trip?  How did Lily get to go with you?  SO, what's next???

Are you still going to Hawaii this summer?

It breaks my heart.  All of it.  The fact that we aren't going back and the fact that still that is the first question asked.

We broke up.  We have to break up.  For now.  At least, me and Hawaii.

But you know what happens, some how, some place, someone begins to root for the under-dog.  The one against all odds.

Yes - that's great you went to Europe.  It's great that your kids went with you.  It's great that you ran a marathon.  BUT, what about Hawaii?  What about your summers?  Are you going back??

I guess I'm not the only one whom knows when someone else is in love.  That Europe thing - that was nice. distractions are always good.  Much like the young boyfriend whom distracts you from your mission. It was fun. That was adventurous, but us readers know, it didn't fill your soul.

More stories

There are more stories from our trip to Europe coming.  Hence the reason the summary of events was given.

I have realized if I don't keep up with the day to day moments, they are lost.  Not lost, but stored in the back of your mind.  Stored until we need them again.

We had an incredible wonderful time.  The boys were put on a plane back home - in Paris - by themselves. I couldn't even go through security.  It was a first. I sat and waited until their plane was in the air.  They flew from Paris to DC to Denver - three capitals in one day.

Lily and her mom continued on to their next adventure.  Headed to Italy for more travels.

Me, letting the caterpillars start their next stage into the butterflies I know they will become.

The Boat Thieves

After the pick pocketing event - well, at least part of it - we ended up at the Police Station......

Lily's mom had chased down the guys.  One guy ran away from the police.  The other was arrested.  I had Lily and the boys.  We were told by the police that Lily's mom was headed to the police station.  Too bad the police didn't tell her mom she was okay.

All was good on our end.

Boys and I arrive at the police station.  One of the pickpocketer's was sitting on the bench in the middle of the police station.  On the other bench, three still drunk college guys were sitting.

The other guys kept offering to help us translate.  Kept offering to help us talk to the police.  One of the police officers kept telling them to be quiet.

It wasn't until after Lily's mom arrived at the police station and we were all told to sit down, that I noticed our three helpful still drunk college students were handcuffed to the bench.  The pick pocketer was also handcuffed to his bench - I guess this is what they used instead of holding cells.

They were cute.  Really cute.  They spoke French and English and were SOOO trying to help us.  We kept getting sushed!

When I realized they were handcuffed to the bench, I asked what they did.  "Oh, we took a boat and were riding up and down the Thames River."  I giggled.

How could you not?

Isn't that what drunk college students were supposed to be doing?  I wasn't sure if they stole the boat or were just driving an unlicensed boat up and down the river.  I don't promote stealing.  I am also against damaging others property.  But hey, if this was a joy-ride...... Well, I thought it was kinda funny.

The other guy says to me, "Did you just laugh?"  Yes.  He says, "you thought it was funny"  "Yes, Yes I did."  How could you not?

I mean, if they were damaging things, I would not have thought it was funny.  A joy ride?  I just shook my head.

I joke, "I fell in love in the back of a cop car".  These guys were good looking, helpful and the hangover had not set in yet.  How could you not fall in love with them?  They were like watching a movie.

Nolan and I leave the police station.  Duncan said they continued to carry on.  Everyone was annoyed with them.  Of course they were.  They were drunk college boys not quite yet regretting their decision from the night before.

Fun to watch them still think they made a not so bad decision.  Not sure I would feel this way if it was my boat.  Unless, they only wanted to borrow it.

Duncan and the rest of the group set there for a few more hours with them.  I'm sure I would have fallen out of love with the boat thieves......

Characters in the play

I figured I should give details to the characters in this play:

"My running buddy" - aka Dave. I met him 4 years ago when I needed help training for my first marathon.  He lives in Denver.  He is married with three grown kids and now four grand-daughters.  I'm blessed to have him as my friend.  He's been married for over 40 years.  One of the greatest things about our friendship.  Is well, we are friends.  It's not romantic.  We run together.  Literally.

"My sons" - the two boys I gave birth

"My kids" - the two boys I gave birth to and a daughter I picked up along the way.

"Lily's mom" aka Cristina - my daughters mom.  We are a modern family as is as much as I might love her daughter, she is her mothers daughter.  Also, we are friends now too.  (The mom is also my ex-boyfriends' ex-wife, but I would rather concentrate on the present, not the past).

Me - mother, daughter, sister, friend.

Friends - those people you meet along the way.

Don't pick my pocket

There are signs all over Paris to watch for pick pocketers.  I guess this is the case in most major cities, but it happened it us.  

Here is Lily's version of the story.  (paragraph breaks inserted by moi)

We were on our way to run the Pre Paris Marathon, Nolan and Duncan were waving their American flags. We walked down into the metro and my mom and I looked at the map to see which stop leads us I the Champs Elyseés. I said this way mom and she said no let's go this way today just for a change.

 So Nolan, Duncan, my mom, and I walked towards the turn style. Nolan first then Duncan put their tickets into the machine. My mom attempted to insert hers but it didn't work because she put it in upside down so she let me go ahead of her. 

Just as I put my ticket through I feel someone pretty much feel me up. I turn around and I see a hot French guy and I was just like well ok then. But then Duncan screams "they took your phone!" The boys split- 2 one way, the other boy a different way. My mom turns around and runs fucking fast after the two boys, (being her ticket didn't work the first time so she was still outside the turnstyle). Shes screaming "stop them!" So after watching my momrun faster than I've ever seen, I jump over the turnstyle and run up the stairs after the other boy. I get up to ground level and walk in the only direction the boy could've gone.

 I see him just causally sitting down on the curb. I walk up to him and stick my hand out and say give me my phone. He just stands up and looks away like he doesn't know what I am talking about. A French woman walks past and I stop her and try to explain in the little french I know that that boy pickpocketed me and to please help but she doesn't understand. 

The boy walks down the street with me following him. He turns a corner and sprints, bitch I followed him as fast as I could. I am yelling help, stop him but it was all old people on that street. He takes another turn and then disappears. So there lily is crying her eyes out telling herself to calm the fuck down and to think. So I walk back to the metro, & as I am walking a man notices I am hyperventilating and stops me and asks if I need help. He says he will take me to the police office but I told him I should go back to the apt. first to tell the rest of my family so he writes the address of the police station for me on a piece of paper.

 As I am crossing the street I see a police man. Well apparently the police in France doesn't speak English. He recognizes me because my mom was running down the street. As he Is trying to find my mom through the walkie talkie, Nolan and Duncan show up with their mom. 

We end up walking to the police station. Once we get in I spot one of the boys right away, handcuffed to the bench. Then my mom walks through the door with five police men. Little did we know, after my mom sprinted out of the metro station. She ended up running after the two boys three streets over screaming "police" at the top of her lungs (she peed her pants). Two policemen on motorcycles chased after the two boys while my mom trailed behind. The policemen did a James Bond slide with the motorcycles and stopped the boys in their tracks. 

The police patted down the hot French guy and sure enough found my phone. As they told the boys to stand up and face the wall in order to handcuff them, the hot one sprinted and didn't look back. One police ran after him but after 10 steps realized with all of his gear on he wouldn't be able to catch him so he backtracked and hopped on his motorcycle. 

Long story short the policeman didn't catch the hot one but we got one boy and he's sitting in a cell right now, and will be for 48 hours. Oh and obviously lily got her phone back. 

This is me again - needless to say, it was a dramatic morning.  The boys had run back to get me.  The 5k they were about to do ran right past the apartment and I was going to finish with them - no one got to run.  And poor Dave was at the apartment (command central) not knowing what was going on.  As when Lily's mom didn't know we had Lily with us.  Nolan and I walked back to the apartment leaving Duncan, Cristina and Lily at the police station to fill out the report.  

All safe.  

Conspiracy Theory

What if we all believed the same way?  Thought the same way?  Had no original ideas?

In my opinion - it would be a VERY boring world.  The problem is, not everyone thinks it would be a boring world.  Most people think "You should think the way I think".  It's comfortable there.

That's okay too.  Some people think, I'm right.  You are wrong.  Or you might not be wrong, but my way is better.

The problem with that is, that you must accept that I am wrong, and maybe other people are right.

For instance, I remember having a conversation about the Pope.  My ex-husband thought the Pope should be willing to change his way of thinking.  Modify to modern times.  I thought, I think it's great that he doesn't. In this day and age, for someone NOT to change for everyone else I admire.  I also admire you for not sub-coming to my thoughts because of yours.

I've always had a connection to Princess Diana.

There were times when I was told I looked like her.  Of course, I had the haircut.  Many I people I know were told they looked like her.  Maybe that was why we all loved her - we all thought we looked a bit like her.

My entire last trip through Europe, I would think of her and my eyes would water.  I couldn't have a conversation about her without my eyes watering up.

Which is really ironic - as I don't watch TV, I don't read the "popular" magazines - I'm not sure of the "popular" celebrities. Even my oldest son said "I don't get your obsession with this Princess".  Of course, I was pregnant with him when she died.

Of course he wouldn't.  She was the American Princess too.  Maybe the next generation feels that way for Kate too.

But for me, it made me cry several times.

I cried at Kennigston Palace.  (her house)
My eyes water up when I see her sons together.
Or when there are pictures of her grand-son.
Or either of her boys.

All I can think, is please, can I go tell her sons how proud their mom would be?

I was standing on a bridge in London and thinking "Diana, you would be proud"

Then during the marathon, we run through many tunnels. Short ones.  Tunnels above the ground (which I'm not sure what this really means), then a LONG tunnel.  When we first start the tunnel, "Dancing Queen" by ABBA is playing.  There are strobe lights.  It made my day.

Then about half way through the tunnel - they are still playing music (all in English), but now it's hard to breathe.  There is no air.  There is no light.  I want out of this tunnel.

Finally, you can see the light, it's bit uphill.  There is still no air.  According to my watch, which stopped working - this was my best mile.  But there was light.

Upon exiting the tunnel, my family was within the next mile.  They told me my running buddy had already passed.  But they were there cheering me on.

I later realized that was the tunnel where Diana had been killed.  The memorial is just outside the tunnel.

I'm telling this story on the plane from Paris to London to the lady sitting next to me.  Wishing I had known before the story of the tunnel I started out liking.

She's says to me:  "You want to know my theory?"

"Why of course", I reply.

"Diana didn't really die in that tunnel - there are too many weird things about it".  "Prince Charles couldn't really "leave her" to marry the love of his life - the world was in love with Diana.

"Hmmm", I replied.

"I have a conspiracy theory", she says.

"Oh yes?" I say

"Prince Charles knew he couldn't really be with the one he loved.  So, Diana took "the buyout", the boys (her children) know. So they made a deal.  She died.

She's living with the love of her life on an island. Her boys still come visit.  I'm guessing she has dark hair now."

After that story, I didn't cry any more.