Category: 60 Minutes


I recently read a book called, “Honeymoon with my Brother,” by Franz Wisner.  It’s a story about a man who was left at the alter and, instead of losing his honeymoon, he asked his brother to come along.  After their trip to Coast Rica, they realized how much they wanted to travel abroad.  They quit their jobs (their ridiculously high-paying jobs) and took to the globe four different times for about four months at a time.  They only came home to see their family, attend weddings, etc.

The book outlines their travels through Syria, Turkey, Italy, Russia, Vietnam, Thailand, Argentina, Brazil, Peru, and finally a tour of Africa (They hit about a million other countries, but those are the ones I remember). How great would it be to just quit your job and travel–meeting new people, learning about new cultures, seeing things you’ve only ever seen in photos?  Needless to say, the book gave me an unbelievable travel-itch.

So I have come up with a game plan.  I’ve always wanted to pursue a PhD.  In 2-3 years, I think I’ll take a year off, travel, and then start a doctoral program.  I’m currently accepting applications for any partners-in-crime who would like to join me or meet me in the country of their choice.

Here are some steps I have to accomplish before I jump on a plane:

1) Learn Spanish.  Why Spanish?  Yo no se.  I know I want to travel a lot in Latin America, so maybe this will help?  Is it silly that I took three years of this mess in high school, made As, and now I’m having to re-teach myself and get a tutor?  Am I dumb for starting this the same week I’m starting Orientation and my busiest/most stressful time of the year?  Don’t answer any of that.  But I am finding myself wandering around my apartment, repeating, “La mujer come. Las mujeres nadan.  Un nino bebe.”   #fluent

2) Save money.  Oy.

3) Pick a route.  So many places!  Here are some of my thoughts (In no particular order):  Chile, Peru (climb Machu Picchu), Nicaragua, Rio de Jeneiro (Olympics?!), Greece, Austria, Syria, New Zealand, Ireland, Spain, Thailand…

Oh snap.  I’m getting excited already.  Alright–keep checking back in on my progress.  Until then– “Los hombres cocinan!”

Marathons are Silly

Marathons are silly.  Just really silly.  Am I right?  I’m right.

This weekend I headed to Virginia Beach to run the Shamrock Marathon–my third marathon.  I hadn’t trained well for it, but was excited because it was my first visit to Virginia Beach and I was raising money for Lauren’s scholarship.

My friend, Amanda, was running the half-marathon so Kingsford and I road tripped with her.  Here we are at the Expo to pick up our packets:IMG_2587 IMG_2588 IMG_2589

On race day, we woke up at 5am to head for the beach.  It was 40 degrees and with the wind blowing, it felt like 30.  I was NOT pumped.  But I headed to the Start Line anyway…

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This race was awful. I couldn’t find my stride..

I kept thinking about how many more miles I had…

When was the next checkpoint…

Why was I running a full marathon when a half would have taken two hours…

What kind of burger will I eat after this…

Is that mile 15 or mile 20? Because it feels like mile 20…

To pass the time I took pictures.  Here’s the ocean:

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Here’s a guy with no shoes:

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Here’s my favorite couple ever:

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And here’s how I felt for 26.2 miles:

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I finished the race in a grizzley 4 hours, 30 minutes, and 38 seconds later and it wasn’t pretty.  This marathon made me realize how much money people actually spend to put themselves through 26.2 miles of torture.  Why do we do this??  Think about it–I spent $100 for:

  • A dri-fit shirt- $25
  • A crazy-heavy medal- $10
  • A banana on the course- $.99
  • A gatorade on the course- $1.50
  • Four Yuengling beers (that I did not drink)– $15
  • Sore hips
  • Hurt ankles
  • Bruised pride
  • Lost toenails

Does all of that add up to $100?  No, it doesn’t.

I’m done with paying $100 for this mess.  I’m done with marathons.  DONE.

My buddy Matt said it best when he said (in his southern drawl):

“You can go out and run 26.2 miles any ol’ time you want.  I pay for the obstacle races because I can’t make my own obstacles.”

Touche, Matt.  Touche.  So from now on, I’m only running obstacle races and half-marathons.  No more of that 26.2 mile crap.  I’ll do 5 Rugged Maniacs, 10 Tough Mudders, and 5 Savage Races before I ever do a marathon again.

I’m being negative-The good news is: I raised a little over $700 for Lauren’s scholarship.  And I’m DONE with marathons.  Did I mention that earlier?

The Shamrock was one of my student workers, Mary’s, first marathon.  She passed me at Mile 3–This picture captures our post-race feelings perfectly:

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I’m old.  She’s young. I’m broken.  She’s pumped.  And she kicked my butt by 30 minutes.

Lesson learned.  Body hurting. I need some Advil.  Until my next race/adventure…

I was waiting for my plane in the Baltimore Washington International Airport this weekend when I met Federal Agent Chuck. Our conversation began when we saw President Jimmy Carter board the plane that departed before ours.

Chuck was awesome and, quite possibly, one of the nicest people I ever met. In the terminal, we chatted constantly. We shared a love of hunting, the Northeast, running, and Texas.

Chuck is a Federal Agent for Homeland Security and works close to the border in Texas. He does all sorts of cool things: catches child predators, finds smuggled folks from Mexico, etc etc.

It’s not shocking, but Chuck is a lot more interesting than me. He spent some time stationed in Hawaii for the Army, traveled to a million different countries, and served as a Police Officer in Boston. True story: He only ever gave two tickets while he was a police officer and one of them was to a Kennedy.

We switched seats on the plane so we could sit next to each other and continue our weird conversation.

Federal Agent Chuck: “…So you’re not married? Good. You’ve got plenty of time to figure that out. I didn’t get married until I was 30. You need to be picky. What’s your type?”

Me: “Well, I don’t have a type, but I have the 3Gs: Goals, Gentleman, and Jesus..and I know Jesus doesn’t start with a “G” but it sounds like it so it works.”

FAC: “Ahaha..the 3 Gs.”

Me: “I’ve been thinking I need to add an additional G because the 3Gs isn’t working.”

FAC: “He needs to have a couple of Gs in his pocket. Or Gentile?”

Me: “Ahaha. Perfect.”

Overall, Chuck had some great advice for me:

On boyfriends…

FAC: “You need to date someone who is active. You like being outside and running, you need to date someone who likes the same. “

Me: “I absolutely agree.”

FAC: “An old friend gave me the best piece of advice, ‘When you’re running toward your goals, your significant other should be right in the rear view mirror, chasing them with you.’ You need someone to support what you’re doing.”

On work…

FAC: “I had the time of my life in Hawaii. Go live in Hawaii.”

Me: “Chuck, I love the seasons. And I’d be too far from home. And isn’t it a big tourist trap?”

FAC: “Not if you know where to go. I had tons of friends in education and they made a great living and had a great time. Consider living in Hawaii while you’re not tied down.”

Me: *hmmmmm*

On being adventurous…

FAC: “What’s the most adventurous think you’ve ever done?”

Me: “…Ummm…well…Oh my goodness. I’m so boring. I’ve run marathons. And a Tough Mudder? Oh my. I need help.”

FAC: “OK, you need to do one adventurous thing a year. Promise me that you will come up with five things to do in the next five years. You’re young. Enjoy it.”

Thanks to Chuck, I’m in the process of making my list of five things. While they won’t compare to Chuck’s black water rafting in New Zealand or lava tube diving with a weighted belt in Hawaii or exploring Thailand, it will be awesome. I’m accepting suggestions.

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