Wedtrip 2016: How Chuck, Bucky & Ron Kept Me Moving

‘Out battered suitcases were piled high on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.’ -Jack Kerouac, On the Road

Topping off at 6300 miles round-trip, this year’s ‘Wedding Roadtrip’ was by far mine and the General’s most extensive excursion yet.

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Inside the General–probably the most common setting for my snapchats

I was so thankful when I heard the three weddings I wanted to go to this summer all happened to be in an eight-day span–I did not have to consider choosing.

 

midwest15Seeing college buddies again after a year of separation brought me to tears on more than one occasion. Thank you to all the happy couples for gathering everyone together again! I also stayed with friends en route–Matt and Maddy in Portland, The Sean Berry outside Denver, Mitch during one of my four treks across the state of Nebraska. In St. Louis I had three days ‘off’ from driving, and stayed with Emily & Tommy, experiencing St. Louis and relaxing by the pool. I also explored St. Charles with college friend Brittany and Arizona-childhood friend Kristen, the latter of whom moved to St. Louis and strangely enough met Brittany at their mutual church.

midwest12I could not even begin to list all the beautiful people with whom I reconnected at the weddings and during Seward NE’s famous Fourth of July celebration. I love making friends wherever I go, but relaxing in the presence of dozens of people you love and who love you back brings a peace beyond words. We reminisced old memories, made new ones, listened to a lot of country music, shared a few drinks, talked about tractors, and danced the night away. Country people and their gracious communities will always captivate me.

midwest7The mechanical issues on this trip were a bit disheartening, but each situation was better manageable. I left Seattle almost directly from the shop after replacing a severely frayed throttle cable. After 2000 miles, only 100 miles short of my first destination, the bearings in my A/C compressor locked up and snapped the fan belt while I was on the highway at 9 p.m. on a Friday. (Nothing ever breaks during normal business hours, does it?) I tearfully called Dad in Montana and he immediately had a tow truck take me to a mechanic who was open late, and I drove away two hours later. In addition, I knew plenty of people in Omaha NE, and the Doerrs opened their home to me, complete with air mattress, until I could finish the final stretch the following morning. On the return trip I ran out of oil in Kimberly ID at 10 p.m., but a helpful country boy and his sister added oil to the thirsty General, directed me to my campground, and gave me the name and address of a mechanic who opened early the next morning for a proper oil change.

midwest5In regards to timing, I broke down in all the ‘right’ places and without major readjustments to my schedule. The bigger damage was, of course, to my wallet. I had budgeted generously for the trip and even portioned out a few bucks for a tune-up at Chuck’s Auto Repair before the trip, but did not think I would have two more trips to–you guessed it–Bucky’s Express and Ron’s American Car Care Center before returning to Seattle.

midwest3Financially there was one major thing that kept me from complete disaster: an app called Roadie. Roadie, the self-termed ‘On-the-Way Delivery Network,’ allowed me to compare my route with people who needed stuff hauled across the country. Kevin C. wanted his motorcycle hauled from Portland OR to Millcreek UT, and I happened to be going that way. By using the app to contact Kevin, I met his brother outside Portland, who loaded Kevin’s bike into the bed of my pickup, securing it themselves with their own equipment.

I was off! I drove 13 hours with what felt like half the gold of Fort Knox in the bed of my pickup. ‘You’re paying for this trip,’ I whispered continually to the red machine in my rearview mirror. ‘Please don’t get stolen. Please don’t bounce out. Please don’t break.’ I even slowed down around mountainous corners and did not drive more than four miles per hour over the speed limit (vast improvement, for those of you who are unaware of my safe yet cop-infested driving record).

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Castle Rock NE–I also spent time in Castle Rock CO on this trip

Since I was pulling into Millcreek late, Kevin and his wife Katie offered to swap me a night on their couch for two six-packs of Oregonian beer. Another trade in the books, and I not only saved on money for lodging, but got paid enough cash to cover my gas money from Seattle to Omaha! Thanks to Roadie, and Kevin, I was able to finish my roadtrip only $25 over my original budget, which includes expenses paid to Chuck, Bucky and Ron. My diet for the past couple weeks has consisted mostly of rice and Top Ramen-esque meals, and the General’s A/C is permanently condemned–but this trip was worth every penny for the sake of mental clarity and emotional fulfillment.

 

Joining a national gym (24-Hour Fitness) last December turned out to be one of my better ideas in regards to travel plans, because I was able to lift in Denver and Portland to supplement my running and burn off some extra drive energy. I ran around three lakes, in Storm Lake IA, one outside St. Louis, and one outside Lincoln NE. Regarding diet, this was also my healthiest trip yet: I only ate out twice, and bought everything else at grocery stores to pre-make meals in St. Louis, the halfway point.

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St. Louis: penguins, pool time, and a museum exhibit that possibly inspired a future roadtrip…

This year I only spent one night in a campground (sorry Mom) (she hates when I do that) (but it’s cheap and I love falling asleep under the stars while surrounded by the comforting sides of the General’s truck bed) (sorry Mom), as opposed to the four nights last year on a shorter roadtrip. I was also travelling through areas where I knew more people, and to my benefit (?) my friends have spread out more, allowing me to see more people on a given route rather than only at a destination.

 

There was a moment, while crossing the desert north of Moab UT at 84 mph, that I thought, ‘Even if my truck is disintegrating around me, perhaps I can make it just a little closer to home before the inevitable happens,’ and I laughed a maniacal laugh. My windows were rolled down and half my current driving outfit was lying on the passenger seat while I tried in vain to beat the heat, and my left arm became more sunburned with each passing minute, and my hair was tangled and my face was grimy. I was high on hugs and love from all the people I had seen in the previous two weeks, and I laughed. I was rocketing through hundreds of miles of burning sand on a tiny strip of pavement inside an inanimate machine which was the closet thing to a best friend an inanimate machine has ever been to me, and currently my only friend for as far as the eye could see, and I laughed. For a time I did not know if I would have enough money for fuel to get home to Seattle, but I just kept laughing, because my mind was at peace and there was still road ahead of me, so why not laugh?

‘But no matter, the road is life.’

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Running Compass Says: Athens Marathon 2014

Spring Break 2014. Plane was delayed. Pro: free night in Minneapolis. Con: missed Greek IV class the following morning.

My bag was a flight or two behind me, so I parked near an outlet to charge my phone and pass time by flipping through my newest issue of Runner’s World magazine. I scanned through the list of upcoming races in the back as is my habit: Vegas at Night, RunDisney, maybe Boston someday… I’ll just have to keep running my whole life so I can do all these fun races.

Then my finger landed on something unexpected: Athens Marathon. November 9. Original course of Pheidippides. The Athenian herald collapsed and died after sprinting 26.2 miles from Marathon to Athens to give word of the Athenians’ surprising victory over the Persians. Hence the marathon was born.

History Me began to wind up as it united with Runner Me and became a whooping, hollering, skipping fool in an airport basement around a lot of grumpy people without their luggage. Few would have understood my ecstasy, so I didn’t pause to explain.

In three days I had my registration confirmation in my email inbox.

But the email was in Greek. So I hope it was the confirmation anyway…

Since then I have run two half marathons to keep me in shape but still rest my knees after 2013’s crazed marathoning rampage. Feeling sufficiently rested, I began training a week before I flew out for Italy this August.clv3

I didn’t know how training would be in a place with which I was not familiar. Even in places I know well, it can be difficult to find 24+-mile routes with proper hills and little vehicular traffic. What if everyone thought I was crazy? What if I was the only runner? What if the streets were dangerous at night?

Whatif whatif whatif.

I refuse to let ‘whatif’ control my life. So I set my sights on re-entering a strict training regimen.

I ran the Corri la Vita (Race for Life) last Sunday: a fundraiser for cancer research. Thousands of runners gathered between the duomo and the baptistery. I didn’t know where to line up for the 13K as opposed to the 5K, so I followed the crowd and kept my fingers crossed.

Note: a race of any length is called a ‘marathon’ in Italy, so things got a bit confusing when my host mom asked me if I wanted to run this race.

There were so many runners that I walked for parts of the first three miles. The course was beautiful: we ran up into the hills behind the Piazzale Michelangelo, which has great views of the city.

There was a man in a gray shirt and shorts, a bit shorter than myself, with a distinctive running style and a large vein on the left side of his forehead that I could see from my vantage point of…behind him, for most of the race. We passed one another several times on the 8-mile course.

The roads were narrow and had two-meter stone walls on each side, so when the crowd got tight, there was no way to get around the mob. It was a fun run for me, so I didn’t worry about it. I cruised up the last two hills and back down along the Arno into the city center. We ran through the Piazza della Repubblica and ended in the Piazza della Signoria, in front of my favorite castle tower (which, I learned in Medici class, is where Cosimo the Elder was imprisoned in 1433). A band played and there was free water (a big deal in Florence–almost as big as free bathrooms), and thousands of people milled about the square, mostly happy, friendly runners.

The man in gray had passed me with half of a kilometer left, and turning a corner I suddenly found myself stuck behind three walkers. ‘No–I can’t let him leave me behind after all this–‘ and I leapt around the runners and caught up to the man. We crossed the line in stride together, and he laughed and gave me a slap on the back–he knows what’s up. I wasn’t imagining our friendly competition.

It has been encouraging to find that Italians are quite active people. I knew they were famous for soccer and such (I’m trying to catch a home game for Florence’s team sometime this semester) but I didn’t realize athletics so permeated the daily lives of the people.

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I am certainly not alone in running. In fact on some mornings, if I sleep in a little and let the Italians and the daylight catch up with me (Florentines are not morning people in general), it’s so crowded on the paths along the Arno that I feel as though I am in a race already. There are just as many female runners as male, and scores of walkers, many with dogs.

Gyms here are expensive, probably due to lack of space in a city where the buildings are hundreds of years old and difficult to renovate to fit large equipment. Despite the expense, however, many Italians are members of one gym or another. I have been intimidated by the apparent fitness of many of the Florentines with whom I rub shoulders on a daily basis. My Pilates instructor looks like he could punch through a brick wall.

Athletics and active lifestyles are greatly promoted through ads, classes for activities outside the gym, and the presence of athletic stores. Yet I am still surprised at the number of people who light up a cigarette before or after a run.

Cristina, my host mom, religiously uses Virgin Active a couple miles away. Friends of members get one free trial day, so I made the most of mine, staying for over four hours! I could have lived there–after lifting for over an hour, I swam in two of the three pools and tanned on the lawn for a while. I finished off my day with a salad from the cafeteria. If I had $450 just lying around, I would definitely sign up for a semester’s worth of this bliss.

But since I don’t, I have been ‘forced’ to find other ways of keeping in shape. I brought a jump rope with me, and that has saved me many mornings when I have already maxed my weekly mileage but my muscles are still zinging from inactivity.

You know. Zinging.

I’ve also taken up yoga and Pilates with classes through the school. Although they are not a fair replacement for my regular lifting sessions, which I miss dearly, I have noticed great improvement in my micro muscles, stability, and flexibility.

My newest workout craze is pushups: I took on the ‘100 pushups/day’ challenge for the month of October. I just heard about it this morning: I’m only 40 into my 100 as I write late at night, but I’ll get them in! Who’s with me?