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tabloidtoc · 4 years ago

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National Enquirer, October 26

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover Story: Death Mysteries -- Whitney Houston autopsy cover-up; Kenny Rogers’ body is missing

Page 2: Reba McEntire’s new romance with Rex Linn convinced Kelly Clarkson she needed to walk away from her unhappy marriage -- while Reba’s love life was heating up Kelly’s relationship with husband Brandon Blackstock who is Reba’s former stepson was hitting the rocks and Kelly remained very close with Reba and Reba would tell her how happy Rex had made her

Page 3: Control freak Tom Cruise is a basket case after he couldn’t charm Cher into leaving their steamy fling out of her upcoming memoir and the image-conscious actor was so panicky over Cher spilling their sexy secrets that he personally called her -- they had a strong physical attraction when they met at a White House event back in the ‘80s and eventually they hooked up and it was very hot and very intense and over in a matter of weeks but it left a nice impression on Cher so she only has good things to say about their relationship but what happened between them could prove very embarrassing if it got out and Tom doesn’t want that to happen -- unfortunately for Tom Cher wouldn’t say anything about what she intends to write and wouldn’t promise to leave Tom out and that’s made Tom even more paranoid and he’s wondering if he’s going to have to take legal action

Page 4: Kanye West is keeping a secret divorce diary to use against wife Kim Kardashian and its potential dishy dirt has her famous family quaking in their boots -- Kanye’s convinced Kim’s about the kick him to the curb and is putting together collateral to crush her and her family is the couple spirals into a $2.2 billion divorce, Jennifer Garner at 48 is flaunting her best body ever and her motivation is to compete with ex-husband Ben Affleck’s 32-year-old girlfriend Ana de Armas because Jen was tired of hearing how Ben’s fallen head over heels for Ana and wanted to remind him what he’s missing -- Jen’s always been very confident of her looks but she decided to step out of mom mode to remind everyone how hot she still is

Page 5: Devastated Lisa Marie Presley has been relying on an old pal Smashing Pumpkins rocker Billy Corgan to repair her shattered life in the wake of the suicide of her son -- Lisa Marie and Billy were spotted together at Graceland not long ago and he’s been a huge source of support for her -- though they were rumored to have had a romance in 2018 Billy’s fully committed to his baby mama fashion designer Chloe Mendel and Lisa Marie would like nothing better for them to make beautiful music again but she knows he’s taken and she needs his friendship more than ever.

Page 6: Ambitious anchor Gayle King is calling the shots at CBS This Morning after executive producer Diana Miller quit in the latest backstage shake-up; there was tension between Gayle and Diana and now Diana is gone -- it’s like the show gave Gayle the keys to the car and even if she runs it into a ditch the network gives her more power -- Gayle also clashed with former co-host Norah O’Donnell who successfully snagged the anchor chair at CBS Evening News but Norah hasn’t wowed in the ratings and it’s a matter of time before Gayle gets the coveted job

Page 7: The mystery over the fate of country great Kenny Rogers’ body has left his own family members in the dark -- sources close to the singer said he’d been cremated while others charged his body is still on ice and Kenny’s body is missing as far as most people are concerned and there’s no place fans can go and pay their respects -- it’s most likely he’s been cremated and the ashes have yet to be scattered but there have also been whispers in certain circles that he could have been cryogenically frozen to preserve his body for a later date, many of Hollywood’s biggest names are abandoning Tinseltown to escape the COVID-19 pandemic and a collapsing entertainment industry -- Julia Roberts hightailing it to San Francisco and Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson getting citizenship in Greece and Pierce Brosnan put his Malibu mansion on the market and Jim Cameron is peddling his prized L.A. compound

Page 8: Frustrated Jon Stewart’s plans to reinvent himself as the next Steven Spielberg have flopped and he’s pretty unhappy about it and he wants to be viewed as a respected serious filmmaker but he’s hit more roadblocks than he ever saw as a comedian or talk show host -- he was left fuming when Irresistible his latest outing as a director was met by mediocre reviews and limited to pay-per-view and streaming services last summer even with box office draw and best buddy Steve Carell in the cast -- he could snap his fingers and get any TV project but he’s setting his sights much higher and he’s walked away from millions of dollars to go back to TV because he wants to prove he is a creative force in the film industry

Page 9: Frustrated Brad Pitt is threatening to have ex Angelina Jolie dragged to jail if she refuses to end her harassment campaign against him and hash out a divorce and custody agreement and he’s had it with Angie’s intimidation tactics and is fed up with being labeled a bad dad and it’s no exaggeration to say Brad’s scared of Angie and he wants professional witnesses around them at all times when he attempts to see their children but for Brad though it would be the ultimate revenge to see Angie led away in handcuffs, Nashville legend Travis Tritt is trying to keep up with country music’s up-and-comers by getting a lift from plastic surgery and recent photos show the 57-year-old almost unrecognizable with a line-free face and skin as tight as a drum -- Travis is getting ready to put out his first album of new music in more than ten years and it’s hard to blame the guy when he’s completing against singers 30 years younger

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Julia Garner got a touch-up on the Staten Island set of Inventing Anna, Reverend Run visited a mural of slain Run-DMC bandmate Jam Master Jay in NYC’s Hollis Queens, Vanessa Paradis and daughter Lily-Rose Depp in Paris

Page 11: Lovestruck Chrissy Metz is already talking marriage and babies with newly unveiled beau Bradley Collins but she has a history of falling for guys fast which has previously been a recipe for heartbreak and while nobody’s doubting Bradley’s intentions there’s a lot of confusion about why they kept their romance totally hidden until now, the devastating fire that tore through Rachael Ray’s home has made her reassess her life and she and husband John Cusimano are now considering adopting a baby -- losing so many of their possessions in the fire made them realize they weren’t all that important anyway so they bulldozed the house and are rebuilding and the word is they’ll add a nursery

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- Danny Trejo cuddled a rescue pup (picture), Lizzo is the first plus-sized Black woman to ever grace the cover of Vogue but pulling off the shoot was a challenge with most designers unable to find clothes that fit her, Justin Timberlake and Jessica Biel are very private and they’re livid with Lance Bass after he confirmed that they had another baby, when he was NBC’s biggest star Matt Lauer conducted almost every high-profile interview and now editors and doing a lot of cropping and zooming to preserve archived footage while removing Matt

Page 14: Crime

Page 15: Rock guitar god Eddie Van Halen who tragically died after a brave battle with cancer wanted to be buried with one of his Frankenstrat guitars that he created to define his signature sound -- Eddie felt like he owed his whole life to that instrument and he loved that thing as much as his family, Perez Hilton dished he kissed notorious skirt-chaser John Mayer in a New York nightclub and the lip-lock happened right in front of John’s then girlfriend Jessica Simpson who didn’t seem to know whether she was incredibly embarrassed or really turned on

Page 16: Cover Story -- explosive new autopsy evidence proves superstar Whitney Houston didn’t have to die -- eight years after she passed mysteries about her final moments and blatant blunders at the death scene point to murder and a shocking coverup and now investigators are demanding a new probe into the 2012 tragedy in a Los Angeles hotel bathroom and for Whitney’s body to be exhumed -- a private eye believes the autopsy proves Whitney was murdered but the case was never pursued because she was dismissed as a druggie and she was marginalized by law enforcement as a dead drug user

Page 18: American Life

Page 19: Horror movie legend John Saxon’s family started battling over his fortune even before he passed on July 25 -- in legal papers filed in May his son Antonio claimed the actor’s third wife Gloria Martel had been pocketing money against John’s wishes, Netflix faces criminal charges in Texas over the controversial film Cuties -- according to court documents a Tyler County grand jury indicted Netflix claiming it knowingly promoted visual material that depicts the lewd exhibition of the private parts of a clothed or partially clothed child younger than 18 -- Netflix said in a statement that Cuties is a social commentary about the sexualization of young children and this charge is without merit

Page 20: Suzanne Somers recently cheated death when she and husband Alan Hamel fell down a flight of stairs at their Palm Springs home and although Alan wasn’t seriously injured the terrifying spill left Suzanne in agony with two displaced vertebrae and forced her to undergo delicate neck surgery but she said the surgery went off without a hitch and promised she is on the mend, Hollywood Hookups -- Sofia Richie has unfollowed Scott Disick on Instagram, Zac Efron hopes to marry Vanessa Valladares, Sharon Stone and Mindy Kaling are both on the market

Page 21: Twelve years after she was placed under conservatorship Britney Spears remains unable to sign her own name on official documents -- Britney recently made moves asking to allow a different financial group to step in and help run her life as well as gain more freedom but lawyer Andrew Wallet said Britney to this day does not have the capacity to sign documents and make decisions for herself and she is susceptible to undue influences, the audience for the Saturday Night Live season premiere came away with more than just a few yuks they also received $150 because to get around New York State pandemic guidelines SNL gave each guest a parting gift of $150 paychecks as if they were employees, Prince Harry and Meghan Markle may soon have a new neighbor in heavy metal maniac Tommy Lee -- the drummer was recently spotted checking out a $2.3 million three-acre plot next to the rogue royals’ $14 million home in Montecito and he was obviously pumped about living there but building the tattooed rocker’s home would mean tons of truck traffic and hopefully Harry and Meghan don’t get upset with the building work he’s planning

Page 22: ABC is reeling from a barrage of allegations from employees and on-air talent who’ve blasted it as a toxic and racist working environment -- the network which is owned by the family-friendly Walt Disney Corporation was rocked when Sunny Hostin the popular co-host of The View accused company executives of institutional and personal racism in her memoir and in later interviews about the book

Page 26: Lonely country singer Kenny Chesney is looking to find a new ladylove and is talking about finally settling down for good -- he is unhappily single after his eight-year relationship with model Mary Nolan hit the rocks -- he spends all the time he’s not on the road at his island paradise in Antigua but he misses having a partner and he’s even asked pals Matthew McConaughey and Richard Branson to play matchmaker

Page 28: America is preparing for World War III as China amps up war games in the South Pacific and readies plans to invade U.S. allies -- military insiders warn China and Russia and their tyrannical accomplices in Iran and North Korea and Syria and Turkey are bracing to launch a coordinated attack against America and the west that could end in nuclear disaster

Page 36: Health Watch

Page 38: Rolling Stones guitarist Ron Wood has traded in his debauched days of sex drugs and rock ‘n’ roll for knitting, Rod Stewart revealed there’s a deep freeze between him and former close pal Elton John and that Elton refused his attempts to that things out -- the two ‘70s icons had been friends for decades before Rod blasted Elton’s biopic and his most recent music tour -- when Rod realized he was in the doghouse he tried to bait Elton with a bone for his kids by inviting Elton’s boys Zachary and Elijah to come play soccer with his sons Alistair and Aiden only to be greeted with the sounds of silence

Page 42: Red Carpet -- The Christian Siriano collection

Page 45: Spot the Differences -- Sophie Okonedo in Ratched

Page 47: Odd List

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volturicangetit · 5 years ago

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Hey I! I was wondering if I could have a ship with a Cullen, Wolf, and Volturi? I have short brown hair (just past my ears), hazel eyes and I love to read. I'm 5'1 1/2 and am plus-sized and I have an unhealthy addiction to sweet tea and have a very sharp mouth but other than that I just want cuddles.

cullen ship:

Jasper. You like sweey tea? This man is from Texas, he used to have sweet tea running through his veins. He’ll randomly show up at your house with a pitcher of ice cold sweet tea. He loves your height. I mean, we all know that he likes dating shorter people ( with Alice’s 4”10 looking ass ). He also loves your short hair. He would play with it a lot. Like, anytime your within arm’s distance of him he would touch your hair.

volturi ship:

Felix. I’ve said this 1000 times before and i’ll say it again. Felix. Loves. Shorter. People. Also, plus sized? This man loves that. Back when he was human, the bigger you were the more beautiful. He’ll fucking swoon over you if you have a little more weight to you. Felix will just smush his face against your stomach or grab your lovehandles. He’s a gropey man. 100% will smack your ass ever time you walk by.

wolf ship:

Leah. I mean, short hair buddies. She needs some cuddles. Look at her, she screams touch starved. She just needs someone she can be close with and that’s you. She’ll probably imprint in you right away. Also, wolf cuddles. Having a masive, enormous fucking wolf lay its head in your lap will be a normal thing.

#shipping #volturi #twilight

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somediyprojects · 4 years ago

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Letterkenny pieces stitched by EndoShota’s wife:

Figure It Out

Texas Sized 10-4, Good Buddy

That’s What I Appreciates About You

Pitter Patter & Allegedly

#cross stitch #inspo #x #self drafted #pop culture

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terrainofheartfelt · 3 years ago

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I know this is really just personal preference speaking, but man.... Dair was so hot! They had fantastic chemistry, and I adore them. That's all, really.

HARD AGREE FRIEND. TEXAS SIZE 10-4, GOOD BUDDY

look at themmmmmm

#you came to the right inbox dear #🤍#asks #anon

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your-iron-lung · 4 years ago

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La Chasse au Loup - 3

available to read on AO3 HERE

Story Synopsis: All things considered, there’s a lot of strange things a man could find in the back-bush of his own farm, rural as it may be. Some of it he could be aware of and do his best to work around, but a lot of it went so far under the radar it almost wasn’t worth thinking about. Mostly it was animals- a goat or a sheep that hadn’t been bedded down proper wandered out overnight and didn't wander back come morning. Turned up the next day in the bush in a strange, disemboweled sort of way.

It's coyotes that do it, Wayne reasoned. Wolves, maybe, but whatever it was it certainly wasn't anything living under his very nose.

Chapter Word Count: 2970

Pairings: (background, minimal) Wayne/Daryl

Genre: Dark/black comedy with a lil bit of drama

Next Chapter: Unavailable

Previous Chapter: 1, 2

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THE BUSH

All things considered, there were a lot of strange things a man could find in the back-bush of his own farm, rural as it may be. Some of it he could be aware of and do his best to work around, but a lot of it went so far under the radar it almost wasn’t worth thinking about. (The incident with finding the cannabis plants first came to mind whenever Wayne had the hindsight to think back on it).

Mostly it was animals- a goat or a sheep that hadn’t been bedded down proper wandered out overnight and didn't wander back come morning. Turned up the next day in the back-bush in a strange, disemboweled sort of way, with its limbs all askew and guts just hanging out in the brush like they were only meant to take in the sun for a quick minute before coming back to the barn.

It's coyotes that did it, Wayne reasoned. Wolves, maybe, taking advantage of Dary’s own incompetence for forgetting to lock the livestock in at night. Forgetful as Dary was (or wasn’t; he was always quick to insist that he did bed them down and locked them in proper whenever they found one out there, but if that were true, how’d they wind up dead out in the bush then, eh, big shoots?), that’s why it eventually became so important to grab a chair, a rifle, a best bud and go out there to thin down the local population a bit to discourage that kind of gore from turning up. It was nice to be outdoors, and nicer still to earn $65 a coyote tail, but even so, sometimes things turned up in the back-bush in that strange, disemboweled sort of way that didn’t always look like it could be the work of a coyote or wolf.

Like that one time they found a human hand out there, lying casually in the shade of a wild blackberry bush like whoever it’d been attached to had simply been caught berry-picking and left it behind in a hurry. Uncleanly severed at the wrist, its pale fingertips were stained purple from blood loss and berry residue and unfortunately had to be wrested from Stormy’s strong jaw before she could run off with it.

They hadn’t found the rest of whoever the hand had belonged to, but the hand alone was enough to leave a bad taste in Wayne’s mouth, though it was one he didn’t have to swallow if he didn’t pay too much attention to it. And anyway, if the authorities they’d called in to deal with it weren’t worried about it, then Wayne didn’t see much of a reason to fret over it either.

“We’ll get to the bottom if it,” they’d assured him, but they never got back to him on whether or not they ever did.

So, all things considered, Wayne knew firsthand about the strange things a man could find in the back-bush of his own farm, but it still took him by surprise when he and Dary stumbled upon the latest oddity his land had to offer.

A moose- specifically, a big old bull, lying dead on its side in the snow with one antler broken roughly in half and its guts torn viciously away from its stomach like something hadn’t just been trying to find a meal, but had been trying to dig its way in . They both stared at the carnage in repressed awe, because the only thing dumb enough to try and take down a full grown bull moose was likely a Canada goose, and even though those beautiful fowl were tougher than nails with teeth on their tongues, there was no way in hell a Canada goose was capable of taking down anything bigger than a Gus-sized dog when it came right down to it.

The corpse alone was intimidating. The sheer, archaic size of it. The fact that one of its antlers lied half-buried in the snow, fractured in half and splintered, indicated that whatever killed it had power. Strength to not just kill it, but to maim it viciously in the process. As he came to understand this, Wayne subconsciously gripped the butt of his rifle just a little bit tighter.

Beside him, Dary turned his head to spit, but he didn’t take his eyes off the ruination of that great big moose.

“What’ya reckon’s done that, Wayne?” he asked, and he was either nervous or tired or an uneasy combination of both, because there was a tightness to Dary’s voice that cut into his nonchalance and managed to get Wayne to spare him a quick look of contemplation.

He wanted to say coyote, maybe, or a wolf, more than likely, but he knew well enough that it couldn’t have been either of those things, and knew that Dary knew that, too. Creatures like that were too small, and who’d ever heard of a coyote getting after a moose? Not savage enough, even on the off chance they’d gone rabid and the moose was sick or something. They didn’t have claws nearly big enough to shred open the side of a moose like that anyway, because whatever tore into it had hollowed it out almost completely.

A bear then , he reasoned to himself, although given that it was the dead of winter and any bear capable of disemboweling a moose was probably tucked away in its den, sleeping the cold away, hardly bothered enough to decimate a moose. A moose.

Coyote, wolf, or bear, though- all three would’ve eaten more than just its guts, which were left in long, wet tendrils strewn across the snow like big pink worms.

“Dunno, Dar,” he eventually said slowly. He stood there looking puzzled, because there weren’t any tracks in the thick snow for him to make a fair assessment of what could’ve happened, but he tried not to let it show too much. “But if it starts comin’ round near the house, it’ll be trouble.”

Dary grunted in affirmation and hocked another spit, pulling the phlegm into his throat with a gross wet sound. He licked his lips afterwards. He couldn’t take his eyes off the corpse.

“Better find it before it gets there, then,” he said after a long moment.

“That’s the biggest Texas sized 10-4 I ever heard, good buddy.”

Even so, they stood there silently, contemplating the dead moose for a long minute before hoisting up their rifles to bravely spend the day prowling about in the bush searching, tracking, dreading running into whatever butchered the moose. In the end, though, they couldn’t find even a small trace of it, whatever it was.

No prints to follow, no blood-trail towards a den; nothing. The snow around the moose had been too disturbed by whatever it’d been fighting to retain any helpful information, and they were left with nothing but the knowledge of a threat.

After the sun began to set, they crept slowly back to the farmhouse, unnerved, retreating from the darkness before they started taking potshots at shadows that started to look a little too wrong the longer they stayed out there.

They buried the corpse the morning after Wayne reported it to wildlife. It required the use of tractors and other rented machinery to get it into the earth, but once it was gone, they all felt better for it.

Except Wayne. For a man who mostly lived inside the confines of his own mind, out of sight, out of mind never really did apply to him like it did others.

The incident with the moose left him troubled and wondering. The mere suggestion that something large and violent enough to kill a moose was running amok on his property was both equal parts infuriating and terrifying.

It could get one of the dogs, if they weren’t careful. It’d already been at the sheep; why would it stop there? He resolutely did not think of Dary, alone in his trailer on the outskirts of the property and what might happen if it started sniffing around there.

Though, that was if it continued to hang around, which, of course it did. In the months that followed, more unexplainable gore turned up around the property, but nothing as shocking as the moose. It was small things, mostly: bloodied strips of matted fur, dismembered pieces of animals (both farm-raised and wild). The corpses that began to litter the farm, coupled with the broken sections of fencing that turned up every so often were strong enough evidence to let them all know that it was still out there and still, clearly, a problem. As if to spite him, Gus and Stormy began bringing the remains of things they found out in the fields home to him, laying them out on the back porch and staining the wood dark with blood and rot and reminding him, constantly, that he couldn’t find the damn thing.

It worried him that there was something so unknown out there. He wasn’t used to having problems he couldn’t outright deal with, but no one who knew anything about what was going on at the farm could make heads or tails of it. If it was a degen he could fight them and get them to fuck off with his fists, but as it was, they couldn’t even figure out what it was they were dealing with.

Just something strange, out there in the bush.

We’ll get to the bottom of it, the authorities had assured him.

But had they? Had the authorities actually done anything at all?

With the rash of recent animal deaths around the farm, they started to keep the dogs inside at night, and some of Katy’s favourite barn cats, too.

As troubling as it all was, though, it wasn’t like they found something out there every day, or even every week (aside from what the dogs sniffed out and brought home); for the most part, the back-bush remained barren. Empty, except for the occasional degen or worm-picker they have to chase off the property for fear of finding their bodies out there one day.

There were long periods of days where livestock went untouched. Sometimes, even weeks passed where no wildlife turned up in that strange, disemboweled sort of way they’d all started to get used to, and life progressed at its usual, slow, small-town pace, until a month or so later when it all began happening again. Something strange. Something disemboweled. Something that, again, left no trace of ever having been there at all, except for the ruined corpse it often left behind that had them all scratching their heads in its wake.

We’ll get to the bottom of it.

Staring down at the bloodied remains of not one, not two, but three maimed coyotes, two of them dead, one still barely hanging on, breathing hard and whimpering for mercy, Wayne felt his frustrations reach a peak. All three of the coyotes have been practically torn to pieces, yes, pieces , and the words of that first initial assurance begin to repeat themselves in his head:

Don’t trouble yourself over it, Wayne. We’ll get to the bottom of it.

“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered, and turned away to squint off into the horizon, squaring his jaw as he internalized his frustrations in order to pretend he couldn’t hear the agonized whines of that poor coyote.

“Wayne, buddy, I hate to say it, but I think you might have a real problem on your hands here.” Dary’s face was drawn tight and pinched with exhaustion. He’d grown jaded to it; they all had, but even so he looked miserably tired. Drained in a way that suggested he’d had a rough night out at the ‘rippers or something.

The rough, unshaven scruff of a wiry beard around his jaw had Wayne do a double take, wondering when Dary’s facial hair had taken to forming anything but sporadic, unformed pre-pubescent patches.

“Well, you don’t fuckin’ say,” Wayne responded tersely as he unstrapped the gun from his shoulder. He lined up the rifle to the head of the injured coyote and held it there unwaveringly until it died on its own with one long exhalation.

Dary didn’t make any further comments. He scratched the fuzz lining his face unaware and followed Wayne around for the rest of the day as they made arrangements to bury the coyotes, sectioning off yet another piece of land that was quickly growing full of animal corpses.

And then, normalcy. Farming. Spending the evenings at MoDeans, as though a few rounds of Puppers would save them from their problem. Rumors grew about the goings on at the farm; (‘Bad gas travels fast in a small town’, someone’s always saying), despite their efforts to quell them. They hadn’t been keeping the animal carnage that had been taking place a secret, not exactly, but once enough people started hearing about it, word began spreading that maybe one of the dogs he reared had gone full Cujo, causing the produce stand’s success to take a hard financial hit, and Wayne’s frustrations only ever grew.

After the failing return to normalcy, a body.

Except, it wasn’t an animal this time.

“Jesus Christ,” Dary said, in a panicked way that meant, ‘Oh fuck buddy, we’ve stumbled onto something really terrible here’. He turned around and immediately threw up, and the sound of Dary’s sickness paired with what he was looking at was enough to make Wayne’s stomach start to turn sour too.

It was a person- a whole person; not just a hand this time. Unrecognizable, but dead and disemboweled all the same.

“Oh fuck, Wayne.” Dary choked out his name like a whimper as he wiped the spit off his chin, turning back to face the body, his eyes wide as he tried to identify it. “Is that- is that one of the skids ?”

It was bound to happen , Wayne thought idly to himself amidst Dary’s panic. The only thing left to discover out there short of another fucked up moose was a fucked up man, but even so it was shocking.

There were whole chunks missing; huge bites torn out of this man’s body that were much too large to fit into the mouth of a wolf or coyote, or even a bear. Wayne stared down at the corpse and remembered the words of the police the last time they’d been around: we’ll get to the bottom of it.

Well, they hadn’t. They hadn’t done fuck-all, from the looks of it.

“Pick your jaw up off the floor, Dary, there’s work to be done here,” he said icily, trying to channel a firmer constitution before turning away from the body with a concise, jerky movement. Anger, fear, and disgust bitterly powered through his veins, because when it came right down to it, the authorities hadn’t gotten to the bottom of anything.

They hadn’t, but he would.

With Daryl in tow, Wayne stalked back to the farmhouse with dark purpose, a plan of action already beginning to take form in his mind as they stepped into the wide opening of the barn.

“I won’t ask you to be my accomplice in this,” he said as he stood amidst the hay and a tractor, looking around briefly before taking hold of a shovel. He looked at Daryl, who was pale and clearly frightened, but seemed to already know what edict Wayne was about to lay out. “Now, I’m going to bury this man, and if you think I oughta do somethin’ different about it, well, then you’d better fuck off now. You can report me to the authorities if you like, but I think by now you and I know that nothing’s going to get accomplished that way.

“Whatever’s going on here requires more attention then they can spare, and if we don’t figure something out it’s only going to get worse.” Mental images of his dogs and friends and Katy lying out there dead and mauled rose to the forefront of his mind. “I don’t know what the fuck’s out there, but I’m willing to find out and could use the help, if you’d be so willing to lend it.”

Dary eyed the shovel in Wayne’s hand nervously, the implications of what he was saying mulling around in his mind uneasily until a stoic form of clarity stole over his face. His eyes hardened with resolve as he grabbed hold of a pickaxe lying up against the barn wall. “You know, I’d likely follow you into Hell if you asked me to,” Dary said with grim contemplation, feeling the weight of the pickaxe’s handle in his hands, his injury no longer plaguing him as it once did.

Wayne thought he did know, but felt it would’ve been too soft to say so.

Well, that’s why I asked.

“Some things are better left unsaid, good buddy,” he replied instead. He felt both relieved and full of divine purpose all at once as he gripped the wooden shovel’s handle tightly. “I’ll tell Katy after the fact so she won’t be held accountable to anything, if we get found out. Dan too, I think. Fuck, with all the bodies around here maybe we’ll let him start a garden; might take well with all the natural fertilizer and such.”

“Sounds like you’re gearing us up to be like Scooby-Doo and the Blues Clues gang here,” Dary said with a crooked, inappropriate grin.

“Those are two different things, Dar,” Wayne said sullenly before turning his steely gaze back out towards the bush, where something strange and disemboweled lay waiting to be put to rest. “But I’ll let it slide if I get to be Fred.”

“Ain’t no one else among us with a big enough neck to fill out that kerchief, super chief.”

#too lazy to format correctly just click the ao3 link #Letterkenny #letterkenny fanfic #wayne/daryl #werewolf!dary #dark comedy #black comedy #dry comedy #this is supposed to be funny but all i know how to write is drama and horror

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homosexualontheloose · 5 years ago

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Do you like thick boys?

That's a texas-sized 10-4, good buddy.

#ask cameron #gpoy #anonymous

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lafuerte01-blog · 5 years ago

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It Is Only Impossible if you Don’t Try

IM Cozumel 2019 Race Recap

The hardest part of any story is trying to figure out where to begin. And in this case, do I start where my training began in April 2019 or do we start with race week? Or do you call this story, “A Tale of Two Kilgore’s” because (spoiler alert here) – one Kilgore trained her ass off and woke up at zero dark thirty multiple times throughout her 6 month training and had upwards of 6 hour long brick workouts while the other Kilgore just winged it and finished only an hour and a few minutes after the other. Thinking back, who was the crazier person? The one that invested time, lost sleep and spent a lot of money training, or the one that did next to nothing and still earned the coveted Ironman title? But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Let’s start with race week. Met up with my coach a few days before heading out of town for the race. The good news was there was nothing magical that I needed to know. I already knew it. I had practiced it weeks and months on end. I just needed to execute it. The downside was I was so amped up and just wanted to RACE. My mind was ready. My body was ready. Unfortunately, it was Monday and I still have 6 days to wait. So I rested. Or not really “rested” but went from 1.5 hour swims to 45 minute swim workouts. And reduced my wattage on bike workouts and didn’t run full sprints at the track. So I had 3 workouts to keep me busy, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday leading up to my departure to Mexico on Thursday afternoon.

I was never nervous about the race. I was more nervous about whether or not all my shit would get to Cozumel. If my bikes would make it unscathed. If I would forget anything. Never doing a race of this magnitude, wasn’t sure what I’d need for special needs bike and special needs run. I prepped a collective 10 hours just packing for the race. And still had to pack for the vacation that followed! In thinking back, if I could just have someone pack for me, that would have reduced my stress levels 1,000%.

(Above: all of my OCD packing in action)

I realized during this time there was also no way that 2 bikes and 4 pieces of luggage along with 4 humans would be able to be transported in our Camaro or Altima. People talk about “marathon brain” in terms of forgetfulness during the peak of workouts. Imagine if I woke up the day we flew out and realized we didn’t have the right cars. Thankful that my brain was always in overdrive that last week so that I was able to connect with two amazing friends, Kevin and Jonny, to transport us and our luggage in their Texas sized trucks to and from the airport.

(Above: Thank goodness for friends with trucks!)

I learned the night before that my tri-sister Julianne made a sign to send Joe and I off on our trip. I appreciated her time in making something so badass!

The Flight Out (3 days before the race)

I don’t know how I stumbled upon it but in researching the prior host hotels/resorts and trying to figure out the math for the best flights into either Cozumel or Cancun, I found an American Airlines Vacation package that got us the best flights, direct from DFW to Cozumel with our host resort included. SCORE! Other options included flying to Cancun and schlepping our things on a ferry to Cozumel. More logistics made for a more stressed out Bethany so obviously the direct option was so worthwhile. While waiting for the plane, our gate was taken over by families and participants of the race. Joe joked this would be the fittest flight out that day. We met up with a couple who were being Sherpas for their friend. We also met up with a lady from California (Lilian) who was hoping to PR this race and get a sub 12:00 (she did! 11:50 was her finish time). She was with her two young ones and we were happy all our kids were appeased by electronics as it had already been a long day.

On the plane, Joe ended up switching seats with a family that was separated so the son could sit with his mom. Let’s face it, he needed all the good karma he could get! In doing so, he sat next to an IronFamily – Keith and his wife. Apparently Keith got his canisters confiscated at the airport and wasn’t sure where to buy them. Being the super anal-retentive person I am, I researched and followed every blog and Facebook group related to IM Cozumel and told Joe off-hand during a conversation that if they run out of air canisters at IM Village, we can go to the local tri store called Cabrillas. Joe relayed that info and Keith was super appreciative. It’s like they became best buddies that day. And they were buddies the entire weekend to follow- as not only did Joe sit next to him by sheer luck, but Keith and his family happened to be at the same resort. In the same villa. Exactly two floors directly below us. It’s truly a small world. After arriving in Mexico, we were in a bit of a panic as I found one bike but not the other. We literally were the last family out of customs because of this one bike bag being separated from the pack. And it’s not like customs is fast in any way and on top of that we’re on island time so we waited patiently.

(This is what Cozumel airport looks like when you’re the last one in customs)

On top of it we randomly had to have our bags gone through because that’s what must happen when you’re tired. So when we exited to get to our shuttle that had been waiting now for an hour and ten minutes, we got accosted by a tour group that posed as a front for our van service. After realizing they were selling us a tour package, I kindly said no and headed out to our van, curious if it would even be there. It was. And after hauling everything into the back we loaded in the van and took in the 25 minute drive through downtown to the resort. The downtown area was decked out for the race with welcome signs. The island was crazy busy with taxis and scooters everywhere. I was thankful when we finally arrived at the resort which was away from the hustle and bustle for some authentic, local food and rest. The family got to experience my favorite cochinta pibil and salbutes yucatecos for dinner. We had seconds of each. Dolores was the best waitress by far the entire time at the resort. We filled our bellies and went to bed.

Friday morning, two days before the race

After waking up, Joe and I assembled our bikes. It was then that I realized I left a second flat kit back at the house. If not already familiar, the Kilgore’s have notoriously bad luck at races with flats and spokes but I figured the extra flats I packed would just have to go into my special needs bag and hope I didn’t need a second or third tube before picking up the special needs bag at mile 60 on the route.

We went to IM village that afternoon to pick up our race packets, find our name on the IM wall, take obligatory photos with the Ironman sign, and look about the IM store to buy all the things. But since this was an IM branded race co-sponsored with Adeportes, the items weren’t as plentiful as many IM 70.3 races. And most of it was already picked over. But maybe that was a good thing because we got out cheaper than if all the things were there. We obtained our IM wristband, our timing chip, our race bags, all inside a nice IM Cozumel branded backpack along with a nice race belt. Because Joe is notoriously known for meeting up with random people he doesn’t know, we ran into my FTC teammate Julie Adams and her IronFamily and spoke with them for a while. He had worn his FTC shirt to go to IM Village in hopes to run into someone; it worked.

(Above: Awesome name placement)

While at IM village, my brother Brian arrived so the kids and I walked to meet him. After a brief hello it was about that time that Joe and I had to go to the mandatory athlete briefing. As we waited in the hot sun, we passed it off as “acclimating to the heat” and saw our IronFamily man Keith there. Because it was so hot and Brian just landed, we had him take the kids so they didn’t have to be bored out of their minds. After waiting a half hour or so after the scheduled start for briefing (again, island time) we got into the cool AC building, sat up front, and had a truly enjoyable time meeting our two emcees and announcers for the race. They made a lot of jokes which made for a lighter mood and helped us all feel special for what we were about to embark upon.

SATURDAY (the day before the race!)

I was thankful I spent the 10 hours packing my essentials in advance and took meticulous notes of the contents within (see picture below) because when we picked up our race packets, I essentially just had to place my Ziplock bags into their respective bike, run and special needs bags. Joe and I got up early to ride our bikes to and from the official swim practice site. Our bikes were tuned up before the race by Velofix but of course the derailleur was jostled during the flight so my bike had difficulty getting into my middle gears of my big chain. So I knew after our swim practice I’d need to get in touch with bike tech at the resort. I was excited for the swim and wanted to be able to feel the current that would carry us toward the finish. Unfortunately, my new goggles that I had only swam in 5 times decided to leak during my practice swim. And there wasn’t a kayak or lily pad for me to rest on to fix them. These are the moments you need to know how to handle during the choppy start of a swim start anyway. I pulled off to the side, flutter kicked vertically and tried to adjust my goggles. Still no dice. After doing a lap with my left goggle trickling in sea water, I decided to get out and reset. I did a second quick circle swim and things seemed to be ok. I never got to catch the current and was a bit unnerved that my swim practice wasn’t as great as I expected. But I got the experience of dealing with unfortunate circumstances and kept my cool. And it’s an understated important skill not to over exert yourself during a stressful start of a swim before a long race day.

After getting back to the resort, I was thankful to have an onsite mechanic help with my bike and I was relieved to not have to worry about it as again, team Kilgore usually has issues on race day with their bikes. We still had to transport our bikes and based on our bib number, we were the final group of the day (3:30-5p). So in the meantime we headed into town to shop at some local stores and shop for souvenirs. When we got back to the resort, the family headed to the beach while Joe and I lugged our bikes to drop off at bike check-in. We were the only ones on the bus that picked us up at the resort. We had time to rack the bikes, get a lay of the swim out portion of the race, our changing tents, and familiarize ourselves with our rack location and bike out. Joe and I both lucked out that our bikes were racked in the same group; mine was at the front of the rack coming out of the changing tent – Joe’s was at the very end of the rack. We had a long way to bike out but it didn’t matter – we would just walk our bikes and calm our heart rates to prepare for the long ride ahead of us tomorrow.

There was a bit of an issue getting the free bus ride back from mandatory bike check in. We waited 30 minutes before even being told there were no more shuttles running to the resorts. Apparently the bus we rode in on was the last one running but none of the other 10 people waiting with us was told that information. We met a guy from Cincinnati who graduated from Indian Hill High School- he was there with his wife and they were also doing their first IM race. Also saw Lilian there whom we met at DFW from California doing her 3rd IM. So after a few of us argued a bit with the IM volunteers about the free shuttle service fiasco, the group won out and we were able to get a bus to take us back to the resort. It was a minor blip I thought but to be stranded several miles away with no money to go back was a bit unnerving. Definitely not something I wanted a day before the race.

When we finally returned, we headed out to the beach so I could test out my backup pair of goggles in the ocean. After doing a few laps in front of the resort and snorkeling with the family, we got showered and met up with my friend Gloria for dinner.

Side note: you never know what random acquaintance you have from your past may mean to you many years later. In 1998 I went on a study abroad trip to Merida, Mexico and met up with Gloria Martinez. She was a dance instructor and as part of my cultural studies for 3 months, I learned traditional dances (baile folklorico) and became close friends with her. We stayed in contact, sent each other many letters and mixed tapes, and here we were face to face again after 21 years. It was just amazing. And she would be a MAJOR help and inspiration halfway through the run. I needed her more than I knew. But I’m getting ahead of myself again…..

During dinner Gloria met my family and I got to practice my Spanish while she practiced her English. She gave me a present, a local liquor Xtabentun from the Mayans. I had remembered having this while in Mexico before and it has a unique taste – liquorish and honey. In looking at the bottle we have now at home, apparently Joe really likes it – it’s almost gone! I had my traditional meal before any race, pizza, but wasn’t super hungry. I realized around 9p I needed to get ready to bed and try to sleep. It’s common not to sleep too well before a race. I think I got a solid 5 hours in.

Race morning

I woke up at 4:20a, 5 minutes before my alarm. I was ready. Graduation day was here! We asked the front desk the night before when the shuttles would start running; he said 5:30a. I thought that was late knowing our first transition (T1) opened at 5:15a. Not only that, we had to get to T1 to drop off our special needs bags, set up our shoes and attach our helmets to the bike and check tires for air. And after that had to catch a bus 2.4 miles upward to the swim start. But again, I trusted the information given. So after waking and getting dressed and having breakfast, we get to the bus line early only to find out that there’s a big group there already and the race organizers reduced the busses at our resort from 3 to 2. And the last bus that was coming was the one headed our way – and we were all hoping we’d get on. Some people were angry and hailed cabs. Others just waited (like us) and hoped to get on. It was a full bus but we were able to get on and upon arrival we frantically tossed our special needs bags to volunteers, got our bikes set up with nutrition and water bottles situated. We didn’t top off our tires; we didn’t have time. We just hoped and prayed they’d be ok. We walked hurriedly back to the entrance and waited in a ginormous line to catch the busses to take us to swim start. Met up with Julie from FTC somehow in all the chaos. Again, another issue as we got toward the front, the busses behind us were opening their doors to people waiting behind us so that by the time the busses rolled up, they were full. Participants were angry and the race volunteers were quick to act. We squeezed into a bus already full and took a seat at the very back. I just took deep breaths. Again, logistics are not fun for me and is super stressful when things get out of whack. Minor inconveniences really but seriously nerve-racking before a long day’s event. I ate another sandwich while taking the bus to the swim start. Things were going to be ok. It was then that I realized I had left my UCan back at the hotel. So I was a few hundred calories under what I had hoped but I also packed a backup sandwich and gel in T1. And I had been drinking extra water with electrolytes that morning. I told myself it was going to be ok.

Swim start

Once through the porta pottie line (after realizing they had one for males and females!), Julie and I got on our swim skins, put on Glide and eco-friendly sunscreen (to protect the coral) and tossed our final bag of the day, our morning clothes bag, to the volunteers and headed to our swim start corral. This being a self-seeded start, Joe and I had strategically decided to put ourselves in the 1:20-1:30 grouping. Julie went ahead as she’s a faster swimmer; we wished her luck! Next time I saw her was on the run – more on that later.

I knew I could swim the 2.4 mile distance in one hour and 30 minutes but also knew the current would be helpful. We heard the gun go off for the pros and started snaking around our corral toward the front of the pier. There were drones flying overhead. We waved. We caught up with the guy from Cincinnati and his wife. We congratulated them. Loud music pumping and blaring songs like, “We Will Rock You” by Queen and “Eye of the Tiger.” The pier started to become visible. I saw people tossing small bean bag sized pouches filled with water. People were drinking water and putting water on their heads to cool down. It was 7:40a ish and already warm. Temps were expected to be a real feel of 90 degrees with little cloud cover.

We were a huddled group of people and the sun was blazing. I caught sight of the ocean. It was wavy. Choppy. NOT like anything we had seen the previous days while on the island. This was going to be fun. I kept calm. We were in line with a lady who knew this was our first and saw our watches and told us they only last 14ish hours. Lovely. Again, nothing I can do. I kept fidgeting with my goggles- putting them on and off. Joe told me to keep them off because they would fog up otherwise. And that’s when I realized I forgot to wipe my goggles with the anti-fog cloth. Before I knew it, our group was “walking the plank” to the end of the dock. I placed my goggles on and just like that, I was in the water. I hit the bottom upon jumping in, not realizing it was shallow, so I bounced up and after 8 seconds, realized I had already pressed start on my watch. “It’s go time,” I thought.

The swim with all the people and all the waves could have been worse. I was thankful the swim out to the first of two turns was short. I saw a ton of marine life. There was a sign underwater – I couldn’t stop to read it but later learned it said “If you can think it, you can achieve it.” There were tons of scuba divers watching from the ocean floor. I would have loved to see what that swim looked like from above. I never got kicked or punched like others on the swim. I had people swim up on me but they swam around. I did the same when I came up on others. I kept with a pack. I rarely sighted- when I did, there was a huge wave in my face. I think I only took in one gulp of sea water. At one point I started smiling because I thought my husband was next to me. It took me a while before I noticed it wasn’t him. I swam with a pack of people and kept my pace consistent. I noticed a buoy on my right and thought they were to be on the left so I cut across and in doing so, I caught a nice current. But after a while I lost people. I saw a kayak. I was off on my own and in looking the rest of the group was on the left. So I swam fast to get back with the group. I couldn’t see ahead with the waves but didn’t want to be so far out on the right, despite the awesome current, to not know where I was. I kept up with the pack and found some people to draft off of. I caught sight of a yellow buoy. It didn’t make sense as most of them were orange other than to distinguish that being the half-way point maybe? I never checked my time or distance on the watch while swimming – I just kept swimming. My goggles were pretty fogged up by this point. I got off track again toward the back half of the swim and instead of making a tight turn at the red and final buoy, I instead made a long wide turn to the finish. It’s ok. I was finishing up and was able to climb the steps up and stop the watch. HOLY SHIT! I just had a PR swim: 1:23:51.

I took my coach’s advice coming out of the swim, no running – just walk to the changing tent to calm the heart rate down. I stood for about 15 seconds under a shower to rinse off before going into the women’s changing tent. My goal was to be in and out of the transition tent in 10 minutes. I had played and replayed in my head the things to do while in T1. I ended up doing a full change out from my tri suit and swim skin to bra, bike shorts and a bike top. I had a shower pill towel and a sturdy hand towel to help wipe away any remaining salt. Salt = chafe and I took a squirt bottle (tip courtesy of Jessica Marchi) full of water and sprayed between cracks and bits. Once done, I lightly toweled off an put on my bike shorts with Hoo Ha Ride Glide. I got volunteers to put sunscreen on my body. Slipped on my HR monitor. Ate my backup sandwich and drank my water. I just burned about 600 calories on the swim and needed to top off before setting off to ride. I put on my socks and headed out to my bike. Got my helmet, clipped it on, got my shoes on and walked the long walk to bike out. I checked Joe’s bike rack; his bike was still there. I got nervous. He’s a better swimmer; assumed he got caught up in the changing tent. I figured he’d be right behind me in no time on the bike. Total transition time: 17:02

At the mount line, I was keeping heart rate calm and take it easy. Even a veteran said everyone goes out fast on the first loop. I had written in permanent market on my leg my metrics for the race: 130-140 power, 78-82 cadence, 135 heart rate. I rode out and set off for a comfortable ride.

The Bike

What I was told to do by my coach was to stop every 20 miles and to pee at mile 40 and 80. There were approximately 5 rest stops around the island for the 38ish mile loop. For some strange reason, on my first loop, I decided to hit every single stop and pee at mile 20. I don’t know why I did this but I realized my error after the first lap when I saw Joe. It didn’t make sense that I was coming up on him around mile 46 when his bike was on the rack when I biked out. It took a nanosecond for me to realize my error. In hindsight, that extra 2 minutes per stop was ok; I wanted to take it easy. My HR was averaging 154 and wasn’t budging despite the easy effort. I attributed it to the heat. I also noticed on the first loop my power didn’t seem to be accurate. The day before I noticed this as well and texted the coach; asked if that happened what metric to follow – cadence or HR. Because the course is flat, he suggested both. I kept true to my cadence and only pushed it when I had to make a legal pass or had to back off when someone overtook me. Second loop was faster, I know I pushed it but I felt ok. I ended up grabbing water every 20 miles to top off my bottles and spray myself down (my cooling sleeves, my core, my head). I saw my brother and kids on the second loop of the bike course; got a shout out from someone there who saw my Hotter than Hell jersey and said, “GO TEXAS!” The back half of the island was beautiful. The extra elevation gain was there along with the wind. Thankful I didn’t have to deal with a lot of wind that day and I knew how to climb hills now so I didn’t let the back half deter me. I got to my special needs bag around mile 60 and reset my fuel. Checked my tires, they were ok so I rode on without the extra canisters or tubes placed within.

The final lap is soul sucking. You know what to expect which is a blessing and a curse. The ride through the city was uplifting; you just have to mentally will yourself to the next aide station and hope for some crazy fans out there to support you. Saw my brother and kids again; got the boost I needed but then had the east side of the island with the hill and unrelenting sun. I wanted to take in the scenery, the ocean was beautiful and the blue sea mixed with the blue sky only interrupted by the white ocean spray that crested and crashed into the rocky coast. I noticed the pack was thinning; there was a collective miserable feeling around everyone. I passed someone and he said, “you’re looking strong.” I muttered something back – I don’t know if it was comprehensible. I knew I was coming up on mile 90 and after mile 100 every mile after that would be a distance PR. It was also about this time that I noticed I was getting tired of eating my gels. No worries I told myself- I had packed a glorious PB&J sandwich in my T2 bag. I’d have real food soon. And there’d be more on the run course. I stopped at a final aide station around mile 100 to get more ice and water and sprayed myself down. The first table there had ran out of water bottles so I had to get off the bike and wait for them to get more water to pour into my bottles. The bike course was pretty sparse by then and things picked over. By the time I hit the bike in, I honestly don’t remember anything. I know I was able to get off the bike OK (surprising in and of itself), grab a bottle off my bike and my coach’s bike computer before handing over my bike to a volunteer. Total bike time: 6:49:04.

In the T2 changing tent, I looked around. It looked desolate. I checked the time – I seemed to be doing ok. I asked a volunteer what the local time was. It was early evening – about 4p. I had plenty of time. Did another full change out from bike clothes to run clothes. Chuckled to myself that I was feeling like Beyonce with all of her change of clothes. I was salt crusted and legs were dirty. Took 2 shower pills to clean off. I wanted to clean off to feel better. I wiped my face. I put on my hat, my running shoes, my running belt and grabbed my sandwich and headed out to start the final 26.2 miles of this race. Total time in T2: 19:34.

The Run

I got up and my feet HURT. My arches were super sore. I walked out of the tent and tried to calm my HR down. I felt dizzy. I grabbed water from a volunteer but didn’t feel any better. My watch chimed 30 seconds into the run. What the hell? I had thought I programmed it for a 90 second run and 30 second walk. NOPE. Forgot the last run I had was programmed from my 30 second sprint track workout and 3 minute walk. I attempted to change the intervals but my watch said I couldn’t change while an event was in progress. GRRR. I know what I had to do – this happened at my Houston Marathon where I didn’t have my watch intervals set correctly and had to do it manually – watching the time. It was going to be a long fucking run. While I had PRd my run in Houston that day, this was not going to happen today. It would however keep my mind “busy” and distracted from the feeling I was having while running. Funny because all day I was looking forward to the run and now I was trying to figure out how I was going to continue. Anyone that knows me knows that math isn’t my sweet spot. So my 90:30 run walk intervals weren’t always accurate. I gave myself grace. Didn’t matter. Go by feel. Get some food in you. I tried but my stomach started to heave. I made it 2 miles by this point and needed food ASAP. I recalled that if I couldn’t eat, to at least chew food and spit it out. Even taking food into my mouth made me gag. And my water bottle filled with electrolytes were equally painful to digest. I got dizzy again and tripped and almost fell but by the grace of God caught myself from falling flat on my face. Negative thoughts started creeping in. It was only 2 miles into a 26.2 mile run and I couldn’t eat or drink and was dizzy. I started looking for a medical tent. I never saw one. Honestly – the one time I did see a medic was the last 2-3 miles of my run and by that point, I wasn’t stopping! In looking around, I saw FTC teammate Julie on her run. She was running fast; I was walking. I said hi and she gave me a look that said, “this is miserable.” She was ahead of me and looked strong. Little did I know she crashed on the bike and was bleeding from her knee. She’s a total badass. Was that her first loop? Second? Third? Everyone looked fresh and running fast. I just kept looking at my watch, doing fuzzy math, putting one foot in front of the other.

Along the way, someone asked me if this was a 3 looped course. I said yes. Knowing that, I was near the turnaround by then and felt better for a bit. Around mile 6 or so, a supporter saw me and I guess I looked like death warmed over. He approached me as I walked and said, “Drink the flat Pepsi. Trust me runner. Drink it. And chase it with a lot of water. It will do miracles for you! I know this to be true!” I looked at him and said I can’t keep anything down. I was nervous if I drank it I would get sick. I didn’t want to get sick and get stuck in a medical tent. I just wanted to be done. But I ran off, got to the next table and took the Dixie cup of flat Pepsi and a small water pouch to chase it. It worked. I felt better. The sugar helped. I tried to eat- still nothing. Small bits of food here and there that I chewed and spat out. After the first loop, I felt a bit better.

I saw Gloria on the run while downtown. The crowd was festive. There were still plenty of people on the run. I would be ok. After the cheers of the crowd and the noise subsided, I started working on a game plan. That’s when my Garmin gave me a low battery warning. Shit. Shit shit shit. OK. New plan – focus on food. I saw a table with oranges and bananas and pretzels. I had an orange and it was glorious. Yes. FOOD! Then I got to the banana. Nope. Couldn’t stomach it. I nibbled, chewed and spat a half a banana out. More flat Pepsi and water. Would grab the pretzels on the way back. Realized I had to focus on my run/walk intervals if my watch died before I finished the race. I counted my steps for the run. 336 steps for 90 seconds of running; 26 steps for 30 seconds of rest. I did this several times before I realized running for 90 seconds was too much. My body was too weak. It was getting late and the sun setting. I approached the turn around and looked feverishly for the special needs tent for my bag at mile 13. I had more food in there but didn’t take it. I grabbed my head lamp but in hindsight I didn’t need it. I grabbed my light jacket thinking I would get cold as the night settled in, especially with the wind near the sea wall going back into town. I wrapped the jacket around me and kept running. Then my watch died around mile 14. Not that I was disappointed that I didn’t save my watch during the bike, but that I was running blind. No way to tell if my pace was going super slow or not.

I saw Joe twice on the run; both times it was when I was going the opposite direction back into town to complete my loops. He yelled to me, “You’ll finish – you have plenty of time. You’ll get yours.” I wanted to yell back- maybe I did? I can’t recall. I was in a dark place. You’d think going into town you’d pick up the excitement. Mine was the reverse. I hit my lowest point around miles 17-19. It was at this time that Gloria saw me coming into town and ran with me. She told me I was doing good. That she was proud of me. That I have 2.5 hours to finish one more lap. She was willing to get me anything I needed, do anything for me. I knew it was against IM rules to have someone run and walk beside you but I could not tell her no. Selfishly I needed her. She was my angel and my saving grace those miles. As we approached downtown, I told Gloria that she would not be allowed to run with me or be next to me. Shortly thereafter an IM official came up and told Gloria she needed to let me be. Gloria asked why and she was told the rule and after giving a very mad face to the volunteer, Gloria wished me well.

Being as tired and as dizzy as I was, I just wanted to quit. I felt horrible. I was right in town so if I wanted to quit, I could just walk up to my family and say, “I tried.” At one point I humored myself that I couldn’t quit because I had already bought things that said I was an Ironman at IM Village a few days before. That got me ahead mentally for a half mile or so. But I also just needed to be done. The run was more mental than anything. I had to give myself something to look forward to. Mile 20. That was the new goal. I could get to mile 20 and feel fine, I told myself. More oranges and bananas. I forced a banana down around that time, thinking I could vomit 6 miles and still finish. Still hard to drink my electrolytes so water, water, more water and flat Pepsi when I could stomach it. Spoke briefly to a guy who asked what lap I was on. I said my third. He was on his as well. I told him I was just looking for the damned turn around. He said he was as well. He looked strong and I told him so and wished him well.

There was a group of us that kinda stayed together. We were running and walking around the same pace. We didn’t talk to each other but it was good to know I wasn’t alone out there hurting. I could tell my pace slowed. I didn’t have a damn watch to tell but I knew I couldn’t keep up my pace from before so I ran from cone to cone. Walked the next set of cones. Repeat. When the turnaround came, I knew if I got to a 5k I’d be fine. And I sort of was ok until mile 24.

Seriously those last two miles were insanely hard. I strained to hear the roar of the crowd downtown which sounded a lot quieter. Even the loud band that played continuously for hours seemed to have relocated and moved closer to the finish. I needed something to get me by. I saw kind people on the street giving encouragement, “You’re so close!” “Don’t walk, run!” “You’re going to be an Ironman!” “Go, go, go!” That’s when I looked over and saw a medic on her phone. She wasn’t with anyone – just keeping herself busy. Where the F was she all day? Too late now to stop. Mile 25. Was I now going uphill? How long was this corridor? The band sounded like it was closer now and I could hear a guy on a loudspeaker now. “…..(inaudible name) ... You Are An IRONMAN!”

My thought process went something like this that last 1.2 miles: drink water. Dump all the food you have stuffed in your tri top bra. Fix your hair. Make it look like you didn’t just suffer for god knows however long you’ve been out here. And run like hell when you near the finish chute. I walked a good portion of that last mile just willing my brain to adjust to the new game plan. I inadvertently dropped my water, my lifeline. Damnit! I didn’t want to run with trash in my hand so I jumped a curb and threw it into a trash can and hopped down back onto the course. Ok. Jacket is around my waist and I don’t want it. I’m hot. I can’t toss it. Damnit – just hold it. I see a lady on my right who says, “You’ve got this! It’s just around the corner!” and that’s when I started to run. I mean, run like I meant it. I saw the red carpet and the lights. It was a party scene and I was ready to …… sit the fuck down. But first, that finish line. That glorious finish line. I looked up – did that time say 15 hours and something? I thought I was closer to 16 by my walking pace those last few miles. That gave me a bit of a pep in my step. I put my hand over my mouth – I started to tear up and then I heard, “That’s my sister!” and saw my brother Brian, Gloria, Kaia and my son Kyler with his hand stretched out to high five me. It was a brief second but that moment of seeing their faces and getting that final power boost from my son got me across that finish line.

I heard before I even crossed the finish, “Bethany Kilgore from McKinney, Texas – You are an Ironman!” and then I saw the ramp. A ramp! I had to go up and down that thing and not fall flat on my ass. I was depleted of food, water, electrolytes, and was high on adrenaline so by the time I crossed I walked gingerly across the threshold where some kind man grabbed my arm and guided me through the finisher chute. Total run time: 6:13:01. Total time at finish: 15:02:31.

Through the chute, my kind guide asked me, “Do you want water? Gatorade?” I said no. He said, “I bet you’ll never want another Gatorade for a few months.” I smiled. Then he told me I was going to receive my medal. Medal placed around my head; a few congrats. Ok. More walking. Then he said someone had to get my timing chip. Great. Next he asked if I wanted food. NOOOOO. No food. Ok, so he walked me to get my finisher shirt. I stood in a daze as someone handed me my finisher shirt. I looked around and noticed the line to get my finisher photo. Ugh. I didn’t have the energy to wait. Everyone looked so full of life. I wanted to sit. A nice lady helped me with my things, she fixed my visor which I always wear so low and held all of my sweaty things as I gave a few pained smiles. I saw the rendezvous spot to meet my family. I heard my name and got some hugs. I was super thankful to be done but fell like crap. I thought fresh clothes and sitting would make me feel better. After getting my clothes and changing (which took eternity with tons of foot cramps), I stood up and met my family on a bench. I couldn’t talk without fear of getting sick. I was still dizzy so I wanted to lay down. As soon as I tried to lay down I started dry heaving. Nothing would come but saliva. I knew I was in a bad way so my friend Gloria sought a medic while my brother and kids waited for Joe to finish. I got into a wheel chair and was admitted. It looked like a war zone. People messed up far worse than me. People with EKGs on their chest. Others getting massages from their cramped legs. The guy next to me screaming from his leg cramp getting worked out. I had a nurse come around asking if I was allergic to anything – “just penicillin” I said. She thought it was odd that the three people in bed next to each other were all allergic to penicillin. A nice doctor came over and said I was going to get an IV. A nurse came over and stuck my left arm. Nothing. Stuck my right arm and moved the needle around. Nothing. Had to call over someone else to get to my vein and finally got it in on top of my right hand. I was hot and didn’t want a blanket. I was in my sports bra and shorts that I had changed into along with my Oofos. It took a while to get the fluids in even halfway through and by then I started to get cold. I got an awesome space blanket and neck massage. I strained to hear my husband’s name called but it was busy and loud in the tent. I asked if the medic tent was busy now and the nurse said no, but that it was busy earlier – not enough beds to triage people to get in and get assistance. I got word that Joe crossed and was ok. I was upset that I couldn’t see him cross the finish line but was thankful I felt better at that point. I lulled off to sleep.

The kind doctor that attended to me let me know the medical tent was closing. My fluids weren’t all the way done but I was feeling better. I was thankful to see my family and Gloria waiting outside of the tent. I felt a LOT better. I was eager to shower and go home and sleep. I said my thanks and goodbyes to Gloria and we got a cab. Back at the resort, I told my brother to see if he could get something salty like fries and chips from the late night snack bar. He came back with fries and nachos. I couldn’t eat much but what I did tasted like food for the gods. Brian let Joe and I go to rest; I miraculously had enough energy to take a shower and rinse out all of our bike bottles before laying my head on the pillow. I looked over at the time. 3:25a. Exactly 23 hours of activity that day.

Was it worth it? Yes. It tested everything I had. I learned that Joe crossed about an hour after me with little to no training. And he didn’t need a medical tent. But he ran his race; I ran mine. We did what we each had to do and both became Ironmen that day. It’s been 5 days; I’m hard pressed to want to do this again whereas Joe is eager to go back next year. I’ll happily be his Sherpa!

What I’ve learned throughout this experience is that while this is a challenge of three sports for one person to complete, it’s a necessity to have a village of people that help you get to that finish line.

For everyone that has helped me with any of my training swim, bikes or runs

For the friends that have put up with my insane training schedule and understood that my absence from any social life was temporary (and forgave me when I unintentionally fell asleep at social gatherings when I did go out)

For my daughter who gave me grace when I missed more than half of her soccer games this fall and passed out around 7:30p on the couch during cuddle time

For my son who was patient in getting the adequate drive time in to help him earn his drivers license

Collectively for my kids who allowed their parents to do a race smack dab in the middle of our family vacation

For my coaches who put up with my incessant questions

For my brother’s family for their understanding while they were in the midst of moving into a new home and for my nephew for allowing me to take his dad away on his birthday. I needed my brother’s help post-race and to have fun with the kids while their parents were out doing a silly race

For my dear friend of 20 years Gloria who trekked across the Yucatan Peninsula and took a ferry to Cozumel to cheer me on for 15+ hours

And for my husband who made all the dinners, made all of the post-long weekend workout meals, and kept my insanity in check….

I thank you all.

(Above: my new favorite Christmas ornament next to some of my favorite ornaments: my kids, an old Santa - my grandfather’s who died of cancer, my best friend Lisa and I, and a Mexican sombrero ornament from 1997)

Above: The Kilgore’s enjoying a relaxing day visiting San Gervasio ruins on Cozumel island.... post-race

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