Which is fairly ironic, since I deliberately went to bed a little early last night. The alarm went off at 5 -- I briefly debated snoozing it, and decided that I shouldn't.
I flopped back on the pillow to stop the room from spinning -- I blinked, and it was 5:30.
Which meant there was no way to get Robin up, dressed, fed and to the bus, but there *was* sufficient time for us to do what we needed to do, and me to *drive* her to school.
So we did that. Got nearly to the corner when I realized that I didn't have enough gas to get to Gibbs and back. And, as per my usual routine, I'd only grabbed my keys.
Ended up "borrowing" three dollars in quarters off Robin.
It's officially been quite a morning. Part of me feels like I should just ctrl-alt-del the day, but I'm actually in a fairly good mood and feeling fairly energized. Not to mention, I've already showered.
Writing on "Convicted" is going *really* well since I got back from the 3 day. I was beginning to worry about how tight a hold Jason had on the narrative, but he finally wound to a close, and now I'm in Diane's scene.
Loving it! It's actually really weird seeing people talk about NaNo prep and knowing that I'm only going to be participating in the loosest sense of the word. It's kind of like how strange last year ended up being -- I cranked out 50,000 words in 6-1/2 days, but because I was busy moving during the authentication period 2006 stands as a year that I signed up, but didn't officially "finish".
I think in the long run that's going to help, though. I'm shooting for between 80K and 100K words by the end of November. It's completely doable with the story I've got to tell -- the challenge has been reminding myself that it's *okay* to keep talking. I've got the space.
Final 3 day thoughts --
It's weird how the farther you get away from a weekend, the harder it is to hold a coherent narrative thread. I find this to be true all the time with my convention trips. Real life gets between you and the experience and starts to confuse things.
Which I guess is how it's supposed to be.crevette
's posted pictures.
As she says, you can definitely see the quality of our appearance deteriorating as the weekend wears on.
We do still manage to smile, though -- and surprisingly kept smiling even when the camera wasn't on us. I'd like to think it was because we were still enjoying ourselves, but there's probably some mysterious hormonal imbalance at work that causes a Joker-like reaction to events.
She also found a link to some of the local news coverage
. The video gallery is definitely worth a look. Channel 10, the local CBS affiliate, fielded a 16 person team, plus their own squad of "walker stalkers".
Sunday morning started off with us colder than Saturday morning. Yes, I'd gone to bed wearing my long-sleeved shirt, but it really hadn't helped all that much.
Sunday was also the morning that we had to break camp, since we weren't coming back that evening. It all went fairly efficiently, with much amusement at the latent SCA skills that came into play.
I would find out later that crevette
's glasses got bundled into my bedding and shoved into my suitcase. How they didn't end up twisted and broken beyond all recognition is still one of the great mysteries of the day.
Sunday was the shortest distance we had to walk -- and had cheering stations and pit stops set early in the distance. Our first cheering station was less than a mile away, and peacockharpy
were waiting with Starbucks! Sweet, sweet caffeine!
I did feel kind of bad for Jan, because we never did manage to get things coordinated for her, but she was good-natured about it.
Jan, as it turns out, didn't have tendonitis -- just a bad sprain. She and crevette
were also sporting some kick-ass blisters, making the fact that they both finished that much more impressive.
I've also described Sunday elsewhere as the day that was measured in the distance between porta-potties. It was *so* true. Not only was the Starbucks we'd imbibed working on us, but I was having my usual issues with all the carbs and crap I'd been eating all weekend. Memo to the dude in charge of medical -- it's probably a good thing you didn't point out the *price* we'd have to pay when you were encouraging us to continue eating the potato chips and pretzels being provided. You would have had a revolt on your hands, assuming any of us could stay vertical long enough to reach you.
Plus, it took about three days for my body to realize that the amount of water I was sucking down did *not* have to be horded against some mysterious impending drought condition.
"Drink and pee and no IV!" (the actual chant of many of the staff).
Weather-wise, Sunday was very pleasant -- taking us through some really pretty residential neighborhoods. Crev and I did a lot of architectural dissection -- talking about house styles, what we liked, and what we didn't like.
We also ran into some enthusiastic walker-stalkers -- the soccer team from St. Leo's college had set up along one of the brick-paved streets. They'd brought popsicles and water, and written encouraging messages to us in sidewalk chalk.
Then when we actually drew even with us, they turned on "Riding Dirty" (the hell?) and started a cheer routine for us. Tres bizarre.
Second cheering station was before lunch -- which was good. This one was very well attended, including akasha63
, and some of their brood. It was *so* good to see them, even if we could only stay for a few minutes (not only because of progress, but because the muscles start to seize up if you don't keep moving).
Any of you reading this that might be in one of the remaining walk cities (Dallas, Phoenix, Atlanta, or San Diego) *please* don't underestimate the effect your presence will have at a cheering station. You may not know anyone walking, or you may only get to spend a couple of minutes with people you *do* know walking -- but just by being there, you're helping keep those people going.
And if you can hand out popsicles or water or ice -- so much the better. Heaven never looked so good.
Lunch was at Crescent Lake Park -- a welcome break. We'd decided to take our time in the afternoon stretch. At our usual pace, we would have reached the finish line *hours* before closing ceremonies, necessitating us waiting.
Better to keep moving.
Funniest part of the afternoon had to have been getting overtaken by the Chicas walking through Snell Isle.
"The Chicas go marching one by one, hurrah! Hurrah!"
Tel *sniffs*: I smell Chicas.
Crev *picking up pace*: Must...go...faster...
Objects in mirror were *definitely* closer than they appeared. :)
We fell behind them and got ahead of them pretty consistently over the last few miles -- but the ultimate irony was that we walked across the finish line directly ahead of them. Almost as though they'd absorbed us at last.
We ended up only having to wait about an hour at the finish line -- during which time we made sure to line up for the last walker in. They make a big deal about the 3 Day not being a race, and to punctuate that the last walker is brought in each day with a great deal of cheering and fanfare.
At the finish line, she came in with a bike escort, a checkered flag, and roses. Very cool.
After waiting, we lined up again to walk to the closing ceremonies, where the tears and pride came again in full (and have been remarked on in other entries). The sick joke part of that hour or so was not that we had to walk to the closing ceremonies -- it was the half-mile we had to walk *after* closing ceremonies to get to the car! *facepalm*
I'm sure there's stuff I've missed in the telling, but that -- in a nutshell (consisting of three really long posts) -- is the weekend that culminated six months of training, stress and preparation.
It was well worth it.
Interestingly enough, I've already gotten an e-mail from the Komen Foundation offering me $30.00 off if I register now for next year.
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!! I think I'm going to let somebody else have the life-changing experiences next year.
Mustn't be greedy.