Friends

My friend Jenni posted on Facebook for friends to sign up for the Warrior Dash, a trail run featuring several military-type obstacles, in southern Wisconsin.

Man, I thought, I would if I were closer.

Obstacle races haven’t reached Wyoming yet. Honestly, running races are scant and when I look for races, I always end up looking in Colorado.

A few days passed and I realized I had more vacation days left than I though, days that had to be used before the end of this fiscal year. I was already taking two days for a wedding in Missouri, but the four-day series running this week made it easy to take the rest of the week off.

And it wasn’t too late to sign up for the Warrior Dash.

Unfortunately, we couldn’t corral our siblings and friends to join us, so we battled the cold, rainy (and challenging) course on our own. The 5K course involved climbing a lot of 12-foot walls and hanging and dropping down on the other side — two things Jenni have never done and rarely do.

But we did it at our own pace and had fun, finished in about 43 minutes. The race was very well organized and I would definitely do another.

Before

So clean. (Sept. 18, 2011)

After

Post-mud pit glory (Sept. 18, 2011)

Oh, yeah.

When we finished (wading through a mud pit under barbed wire), the announcer saw our shirts and said, “We need some Kool Aid over here!” And spectators chanted, “Oh, yeah, oh, yeah, oh, yeah.”

It was a good time. Getting hosed down by firemen was not.

Even better: Changing into dry clothes before retrieving our free beer.

I visited college friends in New York at the end of last month — my first real vacation (not tied to work or family obligations) in a year.

I had a few must-do’s but I left the weekend up to my friends, with the goal of relaxation. We walked, ate well, shopped and saw some sights — in record summer heat. I’ve lived in big cities before, but Wyoming has turned me into somewhat of a country girl. Dinner at 9 p.m.? You don’t smile and say “hi” to people you pass? Buying jewelry on the street?

I didn’t take many pictures. I was too busy living it.

A 12-mile run was on the calendar for Saturday, so I decided to do it Friday morning while everyone else had to work. I didn’t plan for 101 degree heat. I decided to go for it, carrying 2 water bottles and cash for Gatorade on my person.

I mapped a route from Brooklyn to Manhattan and back, “laminated” it with tape and pinned it to my shirt. I didn’t care I looked like a total dork; I didn’t want to get lost. But then I did, right away, by taking the wrong bridge into Manhattan. I planned to take the Brooklyn Bridge over (to avoid tourist crowds) and the Manhattan Bridge back. When I realized I was on the Manhattan Bridge, I decided to go with it and reverse the route. It was a little tricky, but I did it.

Nosh at Eatly. (July 22)

You just ran 12 miles on the hottest day of the summer, what’s next?

Eatly!

Foodie heaven on earth: Giant Italian food store with restaurants themed around a food group such as seafood or salami. All the seating was full, so my friend Monica and I saddled up to a wooden cutting board full of meat and cheese, with a side of sardines, caprese salad and soft, rustic Italian bread.

Waiting in line at the Met. (July 23)

We woke up earrrrrrly to make it to the museum member hours for Savage Beauty, the Alexander McQueen exhibit. This line was nothing; when we left 1.5 hours later, the line was easily a couple hours long. Quotes from McQueen scattered throughout and the eerie music made the exhibit more than just clothes.

Late night cab back to Brooklyn. No AC.

Frozen bananas at the Brooklyn flea. (July 24)

Sunday Funday started at the Brooklyn Flea. Holy hipsters, Batman! We cruised through vendors selling costume jewelry, records, old artwork and other crap knicknacks. Pupusas, biscuits and fruits were consumed. And the cloud cover and light breeze offered some relief from the sweaty weekend.

I bought a Polaroid camera, and then continued to take Polaroid style photos on my smartphone. (July 24)

Josh bought an old SX-70 Polaroid camera at a garage sale the week before. Polaroid stopped making film years ago, but a handful of Polaroid employees saved the last film production plant in The Netherlands and started The Impossible Project. And one of the few places they sell film happens to be in New York. I picked up some film for him and a new-to-me Polaroid 600.

Subway. (July 24)

Street shopping. (July 24)

Bathesda Fountain, Central Park. (July 25)

The weather cooled down Monday, so I took the subway to Central Park for an easy four mile run. Like Friday’s 12 miler, it went by quickly due to the constantly changing scenery. I ate breakfast in the park, cleaned up and walked around the Garment District and Midtown. I met a more college friends, whom I hadn’t seen in years, for dinner at Westville in Chelsea. Good food, great conversation.

And very, very early the next morning (too early), I left. Sixteen hours later, I crawled into bed for an early evening nap.

The new house feels more like home now that we’ve had three visitors.

Yes, we’ve only been here one month. But remember, I had 10 visitors in my first year here. And people say Casper is in the middle of nowhere…

1) My sister who lives in Colorado helped me move in the first weekend. Unfortunately, we didn’t have much time outside of putting away my kitchen and running to Walmart/Menards/Target. We did have enough time to stuff our faces with sushi.

2) Two weeks ago, my brother stayed for a few days after a bachelors’ weekend in Vegas. He spent the first day on my couch, nursing a hangover of the magnitude you’d expect from a group of frat brothers celebrating three upcoming weddings. Once his stomach settled, we ate well and made it up to Casper Mountain for a mini hike.

3) Last Thursday and last night, Eric, a high school friend, stopped in Casper during his 48-state motorcycle trip. Casper was a little out of his way, but I’m glad he stopped in. He’s documenting and reflecting on his travels in a blog worth checking out.

Only after taking him to dinner at the Wonder Bar did I realize I took all three visitors there.

Another high school friend might stop in on the way to the Tetons in July. Who’s next?

Most would say my Valentine’s Day sucked:
- my valentine was 1,000 miles away
- I spent most of the day with the school board
- in between shifts, I went to a matinee of the Natalie Portman/Ashton Kutcher rom-com. So did one other guy, which made laughing a bit awkward.
- I came home to half of the young couple above me standing outside with her parents and two police officers. I don’t know what happened to cause the situation, but the husband locked the wife outside and refused to open the door, even for the cops.

Lovely. After that, I was more than happy to sit in a school board meeting for 3+ hours.

Then again, every day last week gave me something to love.

Tuesday: Firemen were called to break out the husband. He had rigged some wires in between the front door and the door up the stairs. They didn’t pay their rent, so they had until Friday to move out. And now they’re gone and I don’t have to hear their baby crying at odd hours of the night. I love sleep.

Wednesday: Reporting road trip! I traveled down to Elk Mountain, a tiny town off I-80 in between Rawlins and Laramie, for two stories: one for business and a food story for the Live Well Wyoming magazine we publish quarterly. A photographer, videographer and I were treated to the best meal I’ve had in Wyoming: venison wellington, duck, salmon, samosas, hummus and white chocolate bread pudding. I love food. And getting out of the office.

At the Elk Mountain Hotel, suited up for chopping duty. [Feb. 16, 2011]

Thursday: My friend Cat bought tickets to visit Wyoming for my birthday in a few weeks. She’ll be my 11th visitor! I think a snowshoeing trip in the Wind River Mountains is in order… I love Cat.

Friday: I finished writing the mainbar and editing three national stories for a package about federal education stimulus funding. I had forgotten how much fun editing others’ work can be. I love what I do.

And I received my last v-day card from my first valentine, my mom, whom I obviously love.

If the point of Valentine’s Day is to send red cards and eat chocolate and tell people “I love you,” mission accomplished. If it’s to experience joy and feel loved, mission accomplished.

Has it really been more than a week since Christmas?

Clint checks the turkey. It was done. [Dec. 25]

Christmas truly has become a season for me, beginning the day after Thanksgiving when I buy and wrap 90 percent of my gifts and ending a week into January when cards and packages stop trickling in. The weeks in between offer parties, treats and warm, fuzzy moments that make you say, “It feels like Christmas.”

The guys might kill me for writing this, but Christmas night had several of those moments. Two sports guys hosted the journalist orphans for turkey with all the fixin’s.

It’s not Christmas without oysters.

It seemed Christmas was white everywhere but this part of Wyoming. Everyone else got snow except us.

The dry weather helped me get down to Colorado and Arizona, to continue on to Missouri and Kansas. It also allowed me to return safely to a very snowy Casper.

The week away was eventful and uneventful at the same time. Arizona was all about the Insight Bowl, but Josh and I also explored Phoenix, spent time with the illustrious Ryan Gibbons, shopped used book stores, hiked through a cactus forest and visited the new Musical Instrument Museum.

Phoenix Mountains Preserve [Dec. 30, 2010]

In Missouri we both worked New Year’s Eve — I finished a 50-inch legislative preview and he compiled a “best of” photo gallery in the car. We both have a hard time not working during vacations.

Friends hosted a casual New Year’s Eve dinner of fondue and champagne before we shuffled to the Power and Light District. We only stayed long enough to watch an imitation ball drop and greedy people dive after cash confetti shot from cannons. Just like last year, we were in PJs, eating pizza before 2.

Also like last year, we spent New Year’s Day lounging on the couch, watching the Jersey Shore marathon.

Holidays don’t have to be extravagant to be celebrated. Vacation doesn’t have to be exciting to be vacation.