Lives Lived Out Loud
It’s been called the Event of the Year and I’m not talking about a royal baby – king, shming. Millions of women will pop out babies this year. Only one woman ran six miles of trails with a veil attached to her running visor before sprinting down the “aisle” to an unscheduled performance of “Here Comes The Bride” by the Plastic Kazoo Band.
Here are the photos of the best day EVER (including “official” race photos on the trail) – enjoy! They’re also accessible in our photo gallery to the right.
June 23, 2013
It is a day I will never forget. It was a day filled with joy, love, happiness, laughter, and friendship. It was the day I married my best friend in the company of friends and family in a beautiful park.
When I agreed to marry Greg after he proposed in New Zealand, I assumed we would get married before a justice of the peace. I just wanted to be married to him and didn’t need a big to-do. And, I didn’t want to wear a dress! When a friend suggested that those who loved us might want to share in the celebration of our union, I decided a small, drama free wedding would be fun. Greg and I kicked around some ideas and decided a trail run, brief ceremony, and low-key reception at Lake Chabot Regional Park would be just the ticket.
The only problem: I suffer from a fair amount of social anxiety. The idea of planning and hosting a party causes my hands to sweat. Way, way too stressful. The answer: my amazing neighbor, Marci, who can plan a successful party in seconds flat and never stresses about socializing. That girl can walk into a room full of strangers, know everyone within minutes, and leave with several new life long friends.
Marci offered to plan our wedding. Early on, she asked how many details I wanted to know. As few as possible was my answer as I hoped being kept in the dark would help keep me from stressing out. I was completely comfortable leaving it in her hands and just writing checks to cover the costs. I happily completed my assigned tasks: getting the running shirts for all involved in the wedding, ordering bracelets for favors, and sending out the E-vite.
When the day arrived, I quickly realized Marci and her assistants had gone above and beyond for us. Wow! Everything was beautiful and so much attention had been paid to the smallest of details. I was speechless – yes, me….speechless.
I remember standing on the picnic table so I could address the crowd and get us all running/jogging/walking in the right direction. As I looked out upon all our friends, it was impossible not to be overwhelmed with gratitude for all those who came out to celebrate with Greg and me. I remember thinking I was so damn lucky and so, so grateful. As someone who grew up in a home seriously lacking in love, I figured I must have done something right to be on the receiving end of all this love now. It filled my heart beyond capacity.
The ceremony completely captured what Greg and I are as individuals and as a couple. It was truly “us”. My face hurt the next day from constantly smiling. I think that was a sign of success.
My only regret is that Greg’s family was too far away to make the trip. I know they were all there in spirit and their best wishes were beautifully woven into the ceremony by our talented officiant, Chris. I look forward to celebrating with them this summer.
(Just for info: we will be posting a wedding day photo album on this blog when we are done gathering all the photos. Feel free to subscribe to the blog so you get an e-mail notification when this happens.)
I just want to say thank you to everyone who made the day so awesome. To Marci, Michael, Miguel, Chris O, Christie, Michelle, Dina, Ruth, Mary Kay, Chester, Leslie, Heather, Naomi, Sandie, Dave, Al, Chris W, and Vinnie. To Team Clubsporters, RePeeters, Lake Chabot Running Peeps, HPD’ers, our biking buddies, Fab Five +1‘ers, GNO’ers, and all our other friends. To Bosco, Bodie, Kora, Finn, Oscar, Maximus, Jack and Buddy (in spirit). And, lastly, to my husband, who makes me feel loved every minute of every day. It’s an honor to wear this ring.
Bev and I are a week away from tying the knot, getting hitched, taking the plunge, and vowing to stick together even when we can no longer run, bike, hike, climb, kayak, swim, paddle board, bungee jump, skydive, or rappel. Friends have asked if I’m nervous, which strikes me as a funny question to ask someone who doesn’t think twice about throwing himself off a 140’ bridge, tethered only by a springy rope. Let’s face it – if I wasn’t nervous about walking backwards down the outside of a 40-story hotel in San Francisco’s Union Square, marrying my best friend and soulmate isn’t going to rattle me.
Some of the guests are looking equally at ease about the whole thing. Our friend Bodie held his own dress rehearsal, appearing confident and relaxed. Note the bow tie.
Contagious (adjective): likely to affect others: quickly spread from one person to another.
Insanity (noun): lack of reason or good sense: extreme foolishness, or an act that demonstrates such foolishness.
This is an example of contagious insanity. Watch the entire video.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xYzz4wCQnxw
On day #2 of our two week adventure tour of New Zealand’s South Island in February 2013, we learned that the Kiwis are a tough bunch. That day, our unsuspecting group of 12 set off to hike from the valley floor of the Aoraki/Mt Cook National Park to the Mueller Range. Our first clue of the day to come presented itself when we reached a set of wooden steps. “Just 1810 steps left” was carved into the bottom one. Huh??? The track zig-zagged steeply up to Sealy Tarns, where we collapsed at the picnic table.
Our guide Nick, who, at only 20 years old, bounded up and down the trail like a goat on speed, told us we were half way done with the uphill climb, with the next part being “easier”. We then climbed an alpine route (not some easy to follow trail) that was marked with orange triangles on metal posts, every 100 meters or so. It was steep and wound through alpine scrub to a large boulder field. We had to scale some serious boulders, while keeping an eye out for the elusive orange markers, only to reach a large scree field. It was an exhausting “two-steps up, one-slide back” climb to the top.
It was no easier coming down. Many times, as my feet slipped out from under me or I tripped on a jagged rock, I was sure I was going to roll right down the mountain. It didn’t help that the sun was blazing, with temperatures over 90 degrees F.
Greg and I both made it safely up and down the climb, as did about 2/3rds of our group. Conversation at the bottom was all about how difficult the climb had been. None of us recalled reading about such a challenging hike. I pulled out our itinerary and discovered that this day hike was described simply as a “tough slog”. That description can only be described as an understatement.
We noticed there were no warning signs at the foot of the trail. No signs warning of the difficulty, the lack of water sources, or the need for a high level of fitness to safely complete the hike. Being American, I would have expected a giant sign with all kinds of warnings, including images of a person rolling ass over tea kettle down the mountain or being squished to death by a giant boulder. Certainly the words “proceed at your own risk” would have been prominently displayed.
We did see some people heading up who seemed quite unprepared for the physical challenge, the hot weather, or the possibility of a blink-of-an-eye change in weather. In fact, one young girl approached us as we neared the finish and asked how long it would take to climb to Mueller Hut. At 3:30pm, we told her it was about 4 hours away. Off she went, dressed only in short shorts and a tank top, carrying a small backpack and no visible water. Proceed at your own risk, dear.
This was our first exposure to New Zealand’s attitude of personal accountability. Frankly, if you’re stupid enough to set out on a hike without proper knowledge of the track or proper equipment, then you deserve whatever happens to you. And, don’t think you can sue someone for your own stupidity. New Zealand’s legal systems bars most forms of personal litigation.
This is not a country where the coffee cups are (embarrassingly) printed with: “Warning, contents are hot!” In fact, we did not even sign a liability form prior to flying in the helicopter over Milford Sound, even though we landed on top of a glacier. There, Amy and I, without a second thought, jumped over a crack in the snow. It wasn’t until later that the pilot told us we probably shouldn’t go near the crack as it could widen without warning. He wasn’t angry and seemed rather amused by our death-defying leaps. However, I definitely got the feeling that if the crack widened and swallowed us whole, he would have just shrugged and said, “Well, what do you expect? You were stupid enough to play around a giant crack in a glacier.”
At Key Summit, Greg and I decided we wanted to jog back down the trail to the bus, as most of the trail was perfect for running. We checked with our guide, Amelia, who not only gave us permission, but handed us the bus keys. I got the feeling she was impressed by our need to challenge ourselves but also expectant that should we hurt ourselves, there would be no whining or complaining.
I loved this attitude. I loved that toughness and physically pushing oneself were valued. I loved that we were allowed to do it even though we were part of a tour. In America, I have no doubt we would have been managed much more closely and had our choices limited by rules and guidelines. I loved the expectation that I would be held accountable for my own behavior. That the consequences of my actions, whether good or bad, were mine to own.
When we discussed this attitude with several older New Zealanders, they scoffed and said the younger generation no longer believed in personal accountability; that the toughness of their generation and those before was not found in today’s softer Kiwi. I’m not sure I believe this although we did notice the only warning signs we saw were posted at the Fox Glacier, which only opened to the public a year ago. On the other hand, our two guides were young New Zealanders and they were tough as nails. I can’t imagine them ever being whiny, blame placing, softies.
This rugged individualism, self reliance, and toughness brought to mind America’s Wild West, or at least Hollywood’s version of it. I imagine John Wayne would have been quite content living on New Zealand’s South Island.