i love the cumbercollective
We went to the beach this morning, J, Guinness and I.
I had ulterior motives… It seems like, whenever possible, there’s a part of the Challenge where the team winds up in the water. (Check out some of the pics from Challenges past.) There’s a lot of stuff online where people talk about what they wear, which makes sense. There’s a lot of sweating and, of course, the water so moisture wicking stuff is important.
I got fully dressed in every thing I intend to wear next weekend: 30 lb. ruck, sneakers, socks, compression shorts, moisture wicking tank top, running shorts, t-shirt.
And then my ass headed directly into the ocean.
THAT WATER WAS COLD.
Yes, I know - this is not a newsflash. I live in New England. I’ve spent a lot of time at the beaches here. But, at 7AM when it’s barely 70 degrees outside, and you haven’t broken a sweat yet?
COLD. COLD. COLD. COLD!
The best part was when Guinness decided to join me. He was so afraid, but he ‘embraced the suck’ and came in with me. Not a huge fan of the waves because I think they took him by surprise, but still! He’s a real New England beach dog now. (You’d be amazed by the number of people who bring their dogs to the beach ass-early so they can run and play in the water.) I’m amazed that for all the times he and J have gone to the beach - Guinness being off-leash, no less - he hasn’t wound up in the water by now.
We went in a couple of times. The last time, I underestimated the tide, gravity and momentum and wound up on my ass. Had the waves been much bigger, I would have been submerged. I wanted to get totally wet, but I had stayed closer to the edge because Guinness kept following me in and I didn’t want him in over his head. That last time, the Universe had it’s own plan. It must have thought I was wussing out or something…
The good news is, the moisture wicking clothing wicked moisture. The sneakers and socks did OK. My wet, pruney, feet didn’t blister. The ruck seems to be waterproof.
I’m going to call that a success and get ready to leave to meet up with my gym buddy for a long walk/jog.
i am literally crying, i’m laughing so hard
I was going to blog about something completely different, possibly some more about why the Supernatural fandom is awesome, but then THIS showed up on Facebook.
WE HAVE SHIPPERS!
The sad thing is, as one of those Americans who would be poking the already poked hornets nest, I totally get it. It’s hard to fall in love with something outside of your ‘world’. Doctor Who, Sherlock, Cabin Pressure - all British things loved by Americans, all seeming to require fan fiction written by Americans who are trying their hardest to nail something completely foreign to us. (Wow. That came out weird. Fuck it. I’m leaving it as is.) A lot of what’s out there is not brit-picked and as my most recent experience proves, finding brit-pickers is hard work. Finding beta readers are just as hard… So we try.
I’ve googled, Mapquested, and otherwise used every avenue available to ensure that I get as much right as I can, but it is hard work. I’m starting to wonder if the other side has it easy. Throw some nonsense words together. Talk about New York, maybe Boston, possibly something on the west coast like LA. Lather, rinse, repeat.
OK. Enough about that…
Tuesday ended up getting kicked in the nuts after all.
We were doing so well, Tuesday and I. Brilliantly, in fact. (Too much Cabin Pressure. See?!?)
And then it went and fucked it all up.
1) Still no word about the industry job.
2) The cost job has gone *poof* - they stopped talking to the recruiter. (WTH?)
3) And the oddest bit of all:
I applied for a full time job at this company I found on my own. Three things happened with this company:
a) I applied for the job because I found it on Monster. It was close to home. Skill set was in my wheelhouse (Fuck me. I hate business speak.), and it paid what I need it to.
b) Jimmy the Pimp calls to tell me they’re hiring a temp, possibly temp to perm, because they’re desperate right now, and would I be interested. I say, why not. Then it dawns on me that he can’t help me out because I’ve applied outside of his company. (He wouldn’t get a commission because they could argue that he didn’t place me. His company doesn’t play that game. I can’t say I’d argue with them…)
c) Tony the Pimp calls me with the SAME EXACT position. Temp to perm, etc. I tell him that I sent them my resume on 6/6. He tells me he doesn’t care. He’s the owner. He’s OK with waiving the placement fee if they take me on.
So, I applied for a job, and haven’t heard squat from the company. Now I have a recruiter pushing me on them. It’s odd, happy news, and frustrating all at the same time. Plus, I have to tell Jimmy the Pimp that he got screwed by the other headhunter… *sigh* FML.
And in other, other news…
I have been FREAKING OUT about the GORUCK Challenge. I’m not sure I’m strong enough. I’m not sure I’m in good enough shape. I’m frightened that I’m going to be the weak link and responsible for any extra “good livin’” our team may require. It’s not a good feeling.
It’s mostly mental - if you can shut up the voices in your head and become a team, the PT is supposedly not that bad. SUPPOSEDLY. Guess who is not in a healthy enough place to get the voices to shut up?
July will be hot, too. I don’t do hot. My father enjoyed sweating like a pig… I don’t. I’m assuming I got that from my mother, because my father would wait until he sweat off a thousand pounds before going in the pool. During the summer, when my mother got overheated, the first thing she did was run to the pool. (Not one of her worse traits, so I guess I’m OK with it. But still…)
I’m going to try to grab J and head to the beach early one morning. EARLY. Like pre-tourist early so I can get used to being submerged with the ruck on. And get used to the cold water. And get used to being soaking wet. And find out how long it takes for my moisture wicking clothing to wick away the moisture. I suppose I can go to the boat launch around the corner… but again, that silly fear of something happening to me while I’m alone is pretty powerful.
That may be the worst thing about growing up an only child. Not having a built in buddy makes life hard when you’re little. My mother was infamous for not letting me go anywhere alone. I mean ANYWHERE. I was driven to different neighborhoods if she had to leave before the bus so I could wait for the bus with other people. And this happened well into the pre-teen years. We moved out when I was 14/15, so probably I was 12 or 13 when she finally stopped.
Then again, it’s not completely her fault. My father had one child and that child was a female. The cop in him always wanted to make sure I was safe. He gave me a lot more freedom, but I also got a lot of lectures on “Stranger Danger”... always be aware of your surroundings, try not to go anywhere alone if you can help it, really try not to walk anywhere at night unless you’re in a group.
It’s funny. My first birthday after he died, I took off for London. I stayed there a week, completely alone, and had life worked out, I would have spent some time with a guy I met over the internet. Yep. Alone in a strange city, in a strange country, with an even stranger MAN. Dad would have shit. Repeatedly. As it was, I’m surprised he didn’t return from the dead just to kick my ass for going on this trip.
I was almost pick pocketed while heading back to the hotel, but I saw the guy in the reflection of a window and was able to stay safe. I walked alone through the Piccadilly area one night and this guy grabbed me out of nowhere. He worked for the HRC (got a business card to prove it) and wanted a picture of me in my hat. He was with a group of people, but it was painfully obvious that they were all gay and therefore not a threat.
I can walk around a strange city, by myself and not feel one bit of fear, but leave me alone in my very safe neighborhood and I’m afraid to leave the house by myself. Age? Bipolar? I don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s a bit not good. (And there’s a Sherlock reference.)
OK… since I worked out this morning, today’s gone off the rails and I need to get back on track and start looking for a job.
radio ruck, four bricks, 3 liters water, yoga block, and spare bricks
I have no idea how much this bag weighs. I’m afraid to find out.
Yes, I am well aware that the yoga block is peeeeeeenk. I just need it to hold the bricks in place. I should probably use velcro, too, but everything is jammed in there pretty tight.
I have both the GR1 and the Radio Ruck. I’m glad I “splurged” and got the RR. The GR1 is a little too long and hits my tailbone. This one is a much better fit, plus it’s smaller so it limits the amount of crap I can stick in it. I’ve read a lot about people over packing. The only other stuff I’m packing are some little tablets that turn the water into something gatorade-ish and some protein bars, and my $20 for an emergency cab.
I am still freaked out by the fact that I’m doing it.
I still can’t put into words why I want to do it.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again - breaking in a bag with bricks does it quickly, but I still wouldn’t recommend it.
Four bricks are fucking HEAVY.
probably photoshopped, but still very cute
(Does anyone know where the title of this entry came from? I’ll give you a cookie if you can tell me!)
That was one of the hardest phone screens I’ve ever done. It was hard to separate being a sports fan from working for the arena which has absolutely nothing to do with the teams.
In my favor, however, was my experience in pro hockey and working with the ownership of the Toledo Sports Arena.
The job feels a little beneath me, and I’m sure I botched the interview. Plus, there are a shit ton of people vying for this job. (I’ll bet the majority want to work IN sports, not for the company that houses the teams’ battlegrounds. There’s a difference.)
One of my recruiters called me this morning and tried to talk me out of accepting the offer at the industry company. (I haven’t even gotten it yet!)
After that one-two punch, I’m feeling pretty unsettled.
I just want this to end.
As much as I don’t want to, I should probably go ruck for a bit. The clock is ticking and focusing on not dying during the challenge will keep my mind off my shitty job search.
and this is why i’ll miss matt smith
I can’t put it off any more… it’s time to start rucking with a fully loaded ruck. Four bricks, 3 litres of water, and a yoga block to keep the bricks in place. It is fucking heavy and if I don’t get used to doing some serious miles with it on, I will die in July. Die, I tell you!
I’ve been putting it off and putting it off because I HATE being on a treadmill. I don’t need to do it on a treadmill. I live in a relatively safe neighborhood, I’m home during the afternoon when the sun is shining bright… there is absolutely no reason I haven’t started yet.
Except for a stupid fear:
I’m afraid to go for a walk by myself - what if I go too far, get too tired and can’t make it back home?
I know, I know, I know.
Today’s big plan includes looking for a job, logging some serious time on the treadmill, going to the Apple store to fix my baby, and going to my work out.
No interviews today, but I have one tomorrow. It’s a second so there’s really nothing more I can do except show up. Besides, they don’t have a website or anything.
I hate this… I really hate this… and it’s been going on over a month.