Alas, it has been awhile: My apologies! With Cam being in town for his spring break, me going home for Easter, and jobs starting to roll in for me to apply to, I haven’t been able to sit down and relay my love for all things color. Boo! At least my hiatus has been for good reasons. Well, enough of that: We have some serious catching up to do!
Let’s start with Cam’s week in Tucson. Throughout the week, we embarked on many adventures. Monday and Tuesday Cam braved school with me—twice—for some quality work with Romeo and Juliet. Notably, despite the lack of allure, he “doth [not] protest too much[1]!”
Once we were relieved of our “school duties,” Cam and I visited the Pima Air and Space Museum to both witness how the scientific miracle that is flight has progressed throughout the years and also hear the inspiring stories behind many of the planes, often from veterans who actually flew the planes Alas, it has been awhile: My apologies! With Cam being in town for his spring break, me going home for Easter, and jobs starting to roll in for me to apply to, I haven’t been able to sit down and relay my love for all things color. Boo! At least my hiatus has been for good reasons. Well, enough of that: We have some serious catching up to do!
Let’s start with Cam’s week in Tucson. Throughout the week, we embarked on many adventures. Monday and Tuesday Cam braved school with me—twice—for some quality work with Romeo and Juliet. Notably, despite the lack of allure, he “doth [not] protest too much[1]!”
Once we were relieved of our “school duties,” Cam and I visited the Pima Air and Space Museum to both witness how the scientific miracle that is flight has progressed throughout the years and also hear the inspiring stories behind many of the planes, often from veterans who actually flew the planes themselves! Additionally, we visited the infamous “bone yard” on the adjacent Davis-Monthan Air Force base by means of a tour offered through the museum. The bone yard, which is officially named the 309th Aerospace Maintenance and Regeneration Group, houses nearly 4,000 U.S. military aircraft headed for scrap, storage, or potential rebirth, all parked on 2,600 acres of Arizona desert. Just a few miles down the road from my school, I beheld more planes in one location than I had even thought possible. It was quite mind-blowing. Notably, while these planes are out of commission, the docent informed us that the government plans to keep the planes for historical purposes, employ them for target training practice, or recycle the parts for money, metamorphosing planes into drones. Pretty cool, huh? I have to admit, the whole day I felt like a cross between my Uncle Warren and Tom Cruise’s character in Top Gun… In other terms, I am basically an aviator[2]-wearing badass.
The day following our aviation adventures, we decided to hike the Hugh Norris trail at Saguaro West National Park to Wasson Peak. It is worth mentioning that we had previously attempted to complete the full, 10-mile hike to one of the highest peaks in Tucson last spring when Cam was in town, but, much to our disappointment, we had started the hike too late in the day to be able to complete it with sufficient daylight. This time around we started off nice and early, fully equipped for a relatively grueling day of hiking. Or so we thought. Cam and I started the hike off strong—our hopes were high and our spirits were particularly buoyant as the resilient Arizona sun was, at this point, only partially visible in the blue sky. We reached the top of Wasson Peak in no time, and its panoramic views of Tucson and the numerous mountain ranges that surround the city did not disappoint. Admittedly, it called for one of the prettiest “snack times” I have had in a while.
As we continued, however, we quickly realized that the climate didn’t stay pleasing for long. I’m not sure if this is public, well-known information or not, but Arizona is kind of, well, HOT. And sunny. And dry. All of these factors, in addition to the fact that I have now lived in Tucson for closing in on two years, should have indicated to me the need to pack copious amounts of water. And, despite the fact that each of us had filled a full, icy Nalgene bottle, our planning was not sufficient. (Apparently my first excursion to “Seven Falls” in Sabino Canyon also did not serve as a sufficient warning… Oh, you know, hiking 9 miles at considerable elevation with one water bottle, no food, and no backpack in August in freaking ARIZONA… Smart choices.) I guess this Midwest girl will never truly learn.
Needless to say, we survived (perhaps so I can now write this blog to share my stupidity with all of you), but this did not come without a fair amount of thirst and arid-driven agony on our parts. Shout out to Chick-fil-a for getting us through our darkest times: If it wasn’t for you and your frozen lemonade goodness, I truly don’t think we would have survived to see another sun-scorched day. Indeed, it was our mouth-watering, tongue-smacking thoughts of your frosted offerings that kept us holding on. We are forever in your citrusy-sweet debt. All I can say is thank god[3] it wasn’t a Sunday.
On Friday we opted for more of a low-key, slow paced day. Cam and I worked diligently to finish the puzzle I had started while drinking copious amounts of coffee and blowing our way through countless episodes of Friends. At some point we awoke from our puzzle-crazed stupor[4] and decided we needed to eat lunch and get out of the house. Consequently, we hopped in the car, drove almost an hour north to Oro Valley, and picked up our race packets for Sunday’s Arizona Distance Classic half marathon. Much to our surprise, we were bestowed with goodie bags full of free[5] swag[6] that included $20 we could spend at a host of local vendors. Pondering the list, Cam and I decided to cash in our “run money” at Fleet Feet Sports, a running store in the area. With much glee I purchased my second lightweight Brooks running hat: this one a white little number with the phrase “run happy” stitched in cursive on the front. While it’s no “pink hat[7],” I was quite pleased with my purchase and felt all the more ready to run our half marathon.
Saturday we decided to amp up our adventure-level a few degrees (but not to the full level of Wasson Peak madness) and venture southwest to Kit Peak National Observatory. Now, I know what you are thinking: There is somewhere more southwest than Tucson?! Yes, there is, my friends, and we call that place Mexico. However, Kit Peak lies just before you reach Mexico— indeed, perhaps a mere stones-throw away as was made evident by 1) Google maps, 2) the endless number of Border Patrol cars we saw both on and off the road, and 3) the dilapidated U.S. Government border checkpoint we were required to pass through in order to reach our final destination[8]. Once we made it to the top of a very scenic mountain, we were impressed less by the 24 optical telescopes and two radio telescopes and more by the fact that we were the only ones there. Granted, it was 9’oclock on a Saturday[9], but still. However, as time progressed, a few more tourists made their way up the mountain and kept our growing fears of being the only people on the tours at bay. Throughout the day we toured three different giant telescopes, all with the accompanied narration of two very enthusiastic docents who were more than a little quirky. While we were a bit disappointed we weren’t able to see any of the images captured by the local telescopes[10], we very much enjoyed our visit and the opportunity to witness this astrological wonder.
Sunday: RACE DAY! Cam and I woke up at the[11]crack of dawn to drive back up to Oro Valley. Notably, the temperature outside was frigid— I’m serious: It was only 50 degrees at 6am—but we felt both excited and nervous for the run ahead. Leaving the car, I shed my quarter zip to reveal my choice race day attire: My Notre Dame running tights,[12] laser lemon Red Coyote dry-fit shirt[13], and— OF COURSE— my pink hat! Admittedly, I was going for the perfect combination of comfort and color, and I did not disappoint [myself].
Although it was only my second 13.1 miles to date, I can honestly say that was the most challenging half marathon I have ever run![14] This was no Holy Half, ladies and gentlemen. I swear, if we were not running uphill, we were running downhill:[15] this course was loaded with hills on hills on hills![16] Around our 9th mile—the toughest mile (plus a little extra!) of the race, we ran straight uphill (both ways, it felt like!) for over a mile. It was pure torture, and I truly think that if I hadn’t had Cam right there to see the same expression of pain and agony in his eyes, I would have straight keeled over dead. Luckily, we had the demanding mantra of Rihanna’s “Work” (and each other) to goad us onward to victory—I mean, the finish line— and, despite our pooped-ness we actually had a considerable “kick” at the end. Indeed, perhaps in spite of the killer hills, we somehow[17] managed to beat our target time by about five minutes![18] All in all, we crossed the finish line with a time of 1:52:15 and the satisfaction of the great feat we had overcome together. In fact, my runner’s high and acute sense of relief were so strong that I ended up peeing my pants. That’s right, ladies and gentleman: I, a twenty-four-year-old adult woman, peed myself. In public. I don’t know what came over me, but my muscles completely spazzed out, and once it started… Well, let’s just say I was a goner.
Helpless, I tried to get Cam’s attention, but he thought—with good reason—that I was pulling his leg. The look of sheer terror and my increasingly darkening leggings quickly changed his mind, however, causing him to launch into the courageous, valiant act of… Laughing his butt off. Thanks, Cameron! I’m glad my post-race lack of bladder control humors you. We’ll see who’s laughing when you are forced to drive an hour home with dried “pee pants” girl in the car next to you… Vengeance is mine!
All[19] things considered, it was a terrific race and the perfect way to cap off a week with Cam in Arizona. I’m very proud of everything we have (and continue to) accomplished, and while it was definitely sad to see him return to OKC, we parted with unforgettable memories and new race swag in hand. I call that a spring break success!
[1] Okay, I know this is a reference to Hamlet, but humor me.
[2] Or wayfarer… Same difference.
[3] Literally. Thank you, God. Pun intended.
[4] During which we had to exert LASER-like focus… Keep reading, and you will see what I did there…
[5] Well it was “free” if you ignore the $90 race fee…
[6] Swagggggg: S.tuff W.e A.ll G.et! -Michael G. Scott
[7] Don’t worry, Red Coyote… I wouldn’t do that to you.
[8] I don’t know if it was the Illinois plates, blinding pallid nature of the vehicle’s occupants, or that the border patrol guards wanted Cam to stop belting Adele at the top of his lungs, but we were granted admittance. After all, nothing says hello, America, it’s me like Adele. (Dad, please find the irony and sarcasm here.)
[9] Not the Billy Joel kind. The AM kind, but I admire you recognizing the allusion nonetheless.
[10] Note: This is what disappointed Cam. He wanted to see pictures of space stuff, you know, starts, planets, etc. I was disappointed by the lack of alien pictures.
[11] Ass-crack
[12] Gotta represent. Go Irish!
[13] Hence the crayon color tie-in!
[14] And prettiest! The Arizona Distance Classic is toted as one of the most scenic half marathons in the country. Its rolling mountain views did not disappoint… even if they inevitably came at steep price of hills.
[15] …Isn’t it funny how hills work that way?
[16] …Leading us, quite literally, to run for the hills! See what I did there?
[17] I say “somehow,” but let’s clarify: “somehow” and “Cam and his Garmin GPS watch” are synonymous here.
[18] I’d like to point out that, as we were cooling off after the race, a fellow runner stretching nearby recognized us as her “rabbits” and complemented us for maintaining a strong pace for her to follow. And how did she remember us, you may ask? It was the laser lemon gear (and pink hat)!
[19] Urine-soaked
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