#the hot wings at buddy’s food truck was THE BEST

[boboon-ass]

some pics from my trip to vegas

[lafuerte01-blog]

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

[thebatgurrl]

Here in West Seattle crows are plentiful and have staked own their homes just like us. Over the years I have documented many of these crow colonies. When I drive to work the same tribes are hard at seeking out breakfast in the same place each day. Thought I would give you a short tour of a piece of my route, so you can see what I mean.

Long ago my husband named one of the crows in our backyard Mocha. Then came the son of Mocha and now we just have her family. The tour starts with a look at one of them watching over the territory.

Family member of Mocha’s watching our back yard from neighbors house.

I walked out the front door and lo and behold there was another family member checking out the front side of the house.  Guess they have our number! They do remember who is naughty or nice and we have been pegged as nice since we feed them all sorts of things. Add to that the crow urban legend that we saved one of their babies from a cat.  That is what started us down the road of being in cahoots with crows.

Crow guard at the front of our house – up on the wire waiting and watching.

I hooked it down the street, around the corner and down 108th. I did not see the 108th crowd at this time nor the bus stop family. They must have been off in a tree or a yard pecking out their living for the day.

As I headed up 35th, only two blocks up from the corner crowds home turf, I spotted just that. A crow in a yard looking for something to eat. Perhaps this was one of the corner crew but I don’t think so. This was close to 106th where another family has taken as theirs.

This guy was not too shy, he was up close to the front door checking out for human food items. Of course he would take a bug or worm any day but human scrap is the best.

Local crow up in the flowers of a house he obviously knows has good people.

Crows adopt human families and move into your yard. This crow seems pretty comfortable, so I bet this is the center of his home turf.

Mr Crow hanging out in a yard he has adopted.

Off I trucked again towards 106th. My goal is to walk the way I head to work and show you how many crow families there are along the way.

The corner of 35th & 106th is in sight. The crow in the flowers is to the right.

106th goes east, down into a dip, up to a small family grocery & lawn repair and then into the s curves hill.

Off I went down the 106th hill into the area we call the dip.  Get to the dip and slightly off the street behind the houses is a water retention pond. I never disappointed when I see the red wing blackbird. Several years ago they dug this pond out so it would quit flooding the houses near by. The blackbird got displaced and was up the hill at our bird feeder. Now the red wing family is back in their territory where they love the marsh and cat tails.

Red Wing Blackbird hanging out in the reeds of the retention pond.

Out I popped back to the street and guess what?  I found a member of the dip crowd pecking at something in the street.  This area has a couple of tall Douglas Fir trees. They make good nurseries coupled with good road kill you have a prime crow home spot.

Crow of the Dip Family beating out a meal in the street.

He must be an older crow because he knew what the traffic was going to do. As a big truck rumbled by on the opposite side of the street he barely budged from his food foraging. Later I was watching from a block away when a small box truck came down right at him. He looked up, judged the distance took another peck and then as the truck got close flew to the sidewalk.

Knowing the road so well this crow did not budge as the flatbed truck flew by him.

Up the hill I went towards the store and the lawn mower shop. Found a clue to the resident family in the grass… a feather. If you watch closely, you will see that most stores or restaurants belong to a crow family. They know that eats are consistent and the extended family guards and holds onto their territory for years.

Crow feather shows this is a crow lives here.

I got to the intersection which is so busy it has a stoplight. The family grocery store has survived for years and just beyond is the lawn shop. Lo and behold there was the resident family. They were in the street cleaning up behind us humans.

Across the street from the grocery a family of three have taken over the road.

Like the dip family crow down below they are not afraid of a car or two unless it is coming right at it. They have learned how to dance with the traffic.

One of that family is an experienced road crew.

Then a car came down the hill and he moved to the grass strip.

Heading up the hill to the s curves one of the three is in the grass.

We have gone about 10 blocks since the crow in the flowers. See how many families there are packed into this neighborhood?

Here is one more shot of the mower/grocery family. They are right at the entrance to the shop showing us all they own this spot.

The family must own the lawn mower shop. Here they are making sure everyone (crows) know that.

Up the S-Curves hill I went and there was the next troop or family of crows.

View of the S-curves

At the top of the s curves there was another family. Bet they know their neighbors down at the mower shop!

Here is the rest of the s-curve top end family.

We have made it to 22nd at this point and my count of crow residences is 5. I know there are more but who is counting?

Maybe I should name the top of the S-Curve family – the 22nd street Crew!

I did not see anything too exciting until I got to the very busy intersection of 107th and 16th. This is White Center and this is a crow heaven spot.

Big Intersection ahead with lots of crow owners

One corner has a Taco Bell (yummy trash), a convenience store, a funeral home with a great old tree, and a grocery store (more good eats). Major traffic light here and of course traffic. That means good road kill as well as things people throw out of their car window. I was not disappointed by the crow population here.

Busy intersection crow knows his stuff out in traffic getting his snack

I did not cross the street but rather headed north. This is such a good crow spot I was not surprised by  how many were hanging out watching me for a treat.

Crows in the alley watching all. They are on top of the world in this food rich area.

Back of a Mexican restaurant has a molting crow checking out the dumpsters.

This little crow looked real funny. He had no feathers on his neck which gave him the funniest skinny neck look. He saw me and fled to the building. At first I did not notice his buddy was up there. I think the other crow was his mom but not sure.

Molting crow flew up on the restaurant to join his family. Great perch on the wires.

Around the corner I went and walked back south up an alley. It would lead back to 107th and home. Here I found  of course more crows or perhaps they were the two on the wire.

Crow hanging out in the alley.

Speaking of alleys, as I walked back home I checked them out. In two different alleys I saw kitty cats, a tabby and a white one. They certainly were enjoying the morning just like the crows.

Back at the s-curves I saw some of the extended family of the mower shop crew.  First check out Mr. Daredevil.

Daredevil Mower shop crow

Not even phased by the on coming car in the s-curves

Off to my left over the guard rail I spotted a skinny crow on the road below. He was in poor feather after a long hot summer and it being molting season.

Poor little crow looks so frumpy in full molt

Molting Crow’s buddy

Walked the back way to my house and came out at the corner where I had not seen the usual  bus stop family. Guess what he was following me and flew into a tree to watch for a few peanuts.

Almost home & there was one of the 108th and 35th corner crew watching me

Guess I have a reputation to keep up. Once I got home these two of Mocha’s family were hanging out hoping for some bread.

Got Home and these two were on our fence … asking where is the grub?

Hope you enjoyed my tour of the crow families in the hood. Keep your eyes open and you will be surprised at how many crows live right along side of us. They are tight family units and stake out their territory for years. Sound like us?

      Crows are Everywhere Here in West Seattle crows are plentiful and have staked own their homes just like us. Over the years I have documented many of these crow colonies.

[roseonhissleeve]

Ache

REQUEST: so i know you're not taking requests, but i would die die die and love love love a fic with harry as a med student who realizes he's in love with his best friends little sister (and they've all grown up their whole lives together really close) super specific i know, but we all have those tropes that we love haha

A/N: Kind of changed this around, I hope that’s okay! I might do another part to this eventually if there’s interest. All the love. xx

TW: cancer death. 

You and Harry were never really all that close growing up.

You only knew him as your brother’s best friend. Granted, you thought that he was great— he had come over to enough family dinners and holidays for you to know that he was incredibly funny, and extremely talented. He was there at the dinner table when you announced that you were going to med school. He was there when you came back for Christmas and Thanksgiving, and even occasionally when you skyped your brother from college. He was more family member than anything, even though you two had never really had that deep of a connection.

You never expected him to be the one that was there for you on that day.

It was on the fourth day of your internship in the surgical wing. You’d been up for about forty-six hours, with a few cat naps here and there and more cups of coffee than you could remember. And you lived for it— you lived for the rush of running down hospital wings, you lived for the look on a loved one’s face when they were told that the patient would make a full recovery. You loved the puzzle, the riddle, everything about the game.

Until you didn’t.

He was nine years old. The little boy with brain cancer was nine years old.

You first checked up on him during your morning rounds. His BP was low, and his test results left much to be desired. He was asleep when you walked into the room— the heart monitor beeped constantly as you checked his vitals, mulling about the space as quietly as you could. Nico, the clipboard stated as his name, and you went about your business and slipped out of the room to let him sleep. You remember thinking it was odd that he didn’t have any parent there.

The second time you checked up on him was three hours later. You caught a glance at him when you walked by his doorway— he was sitting up in bed, the bags in his eyes as dark as you could imagine. Nevertheless he was playing with a toy truck, his food sitting on the tray next to his bed.

You knocked on the door lightly, a smile coloring your lips.

“Hey, buddy,” you said, watching as he looked up in your direction.

“Hi,” he croaked, his voice weaker than you expected. It took you back for a second, and you took a few steps into the room before speaking again.

“What’s your name?” You asked, despite knowing it already.

“Nico,” he replied, his blue eyes big and captivating. His skin was pale and gleaming with sweat, but his eyes were filled with more life than ever.

“Nice to meet you, my name’s Y/N. Is it okay if I check your vitals?” You asked. He nodded softly, turning his attention back to his truck, and you milled about the room doing your work gently. He barely flinched when you put the stethoscope to his back, and you realized that he must have been here for a while.

“Where are your parents, Nico?” You asked, adjusting the stethoscope around your neck as you glanced up at the monitors, looking for any irregular numbers.

“Mom’s at work,” he admitted, and the way he said it made you realize that dad wasn’t in the picture. “She comes whenever she can, but she doesn’t have a lot of time to catch the train between her jobs.”

You swallowed thickly, immediately regretting asking the question. You forced a smile on your face as you looked at his thin features, making a mental note to come check back in on him later.

“I’ll bring you a pudding cup next time, okay? What’s your favorite flavor?”

“Chocolate,” he said with a thin grin, his top tooth missing.

“Chocolate it is,” you confirmed, shooting him a wink before turning around and leaving to continue your rounds.

The next time you walked past his door, there was a chocolate pudding cup in your pocket.

And there were five doctors in the room.

“There must be something we can do…”

“This poor kid’s mother is working three jobs, for Christ sakes.”

“Has someone called her?”

“I couldn’t get through to her.”

“Well try again, for fuck sakes.”

“Dr. Bell?” Your voice interrupted the slurry of physician’s words, causing everyone to glance over at you. You made eye contact with your assigned resident, swallowing thickly before speaking again. “What’s going on?”

The young woman’s lower lip trembled a little bit, and you could tell that she was fighting to hold it together. There was a look in her eyes that you hadn’t seen yet, as if this was something that she hadn’t meant for you to face so soon.

“Y/N, I…” she began, closing her eyes briefly as she tried to find the words. “The patient...Nico, well, we’re afraid his time is up. There’s...there’s nothing else we can do for him.”

The words sunk in slowly, one by one, like slowly peeling off a band-aid.

“We’re trying to contact his mother, but we know that she works long hours and has four other children but...we thought she’d want to be here to hold him,” she finished, tears in her eyes for the first time since you’d met her. You came to the conclusion that this job must never get easier.

“I’ll sit with him,” you said immediately, your voice unwavering.

“Are you...Y/N, you don’t have to— ”

“I want to,” you asserted, walking further into the room. You took a seat next to the bed as your eyes fell upon the little boys features— cold and hard, yet soft all at once. “If that’s what he needs right now, if that’s what you’re all looking for, I’ll do it.”

There was a long pause in the room as you reached to take Nico’s hand in yours, surprised at the cold sensation of it. That feeling would haunt you for the rest of your life.

“I’ll...get someone to cover the rest of your rounds,” Dr. Bell said, glancing around at the other physicians before gesturing for them to leave you and your patient alone.

You sat, and you sat, and you waited. You held his little hand in yours and rubbed it between your palms, bringing it up to your lips and blowing hot air on them in an attempt to warm him. It didn’t work, no matter how many times you did it. You ran your fingers through his hair and almost shivered at the way his unmoving body felt beneath your fingertips, the feeling like an unwanted houseguest creeping under your skin.

By the time the monitor made that slow, single, monotone beep, you felt numb.

*

Harry was just going to drop his spare house key off at his mate’s house and leave. He was going away on a trip and wanted someone to water his plants, as weird and adult as that sounded to him. So he lifted the mat and revealed the hidden key that his best friend thought would never be found by an unwelcome guest (even though it was more cliche than he could ever imagine), and he let himself in.

He whistled softly as he walked into the hallway and set his key on the counter at the end of the hall. He was about to turn around and walk back out when he heard it— the sound of someone retching, as if they were about to throw up.

“Hello?” Harry called out, furrowing his brows as he walked down towards the bathroom door. He was half expecting to see his mate, but his eyes widened when he saw that it was you.

“Y/N?” He murmured softly, lips turning downward with concern. You were still in your scrubs from your shift earlier that day, your hair pulled up in a tangled messy bun that had long since partly fallen out. Your face was pale and your entire body was shaking, your white sneakers resting against the bright pink tile of the bathroom as you held your head in your hands.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Harry cooed, immediately kneeling down on the ground in front of you. He could see it register on your features when you realized it was him— your face softened slightly and your eyes began to water all over again. You couldn’t fake it around Harry. There was something about him that made the truth spill out.

“I can’t— I can’t do it, I can’t Harry, I can’t do it anymore, I’m not made for this,” you rambled quickly, your head shaking as you covered your eyes with the palms of your hands and choked on a sob. You couldn’t get the feeling of that little boy’s cold hand out of your head, seeping in like rainwater through a wall.

“What can’t you do, love? What’s going on?” Harry asked, reaching to brush a lock of your hair behind your ear. He felt the desire in his chest to hold you so desperately, and he didn’t know where it was coming from.

You told him everything. Between the sobs and the hiccups and the tears, you told him about the little boy in the hospital that day, the one that died alone without his mother or any of his family. The one who’s pudding cup was still in your locker at work because you couldn’t bear to throw it out, because every time you tried to the feeling of his hand in yours would tie it to you like an anchor to the bottom of the ocean.

“I just felt so helpless, Harry, it was...it was the worst feeling I’ve ever felt in my entire life,” you concluded, your face bright red and your eyes stinging as you looked at him. “I never want to feel that way ever again.”

Harry’s own eyes threatened to fill with tears at the sight of you like this— the only other time he’d ever seen you this upset was when you broke up with your long term boyfriend on Christmas two years ago. And even then, it wasn’t like this. Back then you didn’t look so...broken.

Oh, how he wished he could put you back together.

“C’mere,” he murmured softly, opening his arms as he leaned back onto the tile to sit on his behind. You sniffled as you crawled towards him, and you found that you fit against his chest easily. His arms wound around your frame strongly, pulling you against this chest and tucking your head under his chin. He smelled faintly of soap, aftershave, and Tom Ford cologne, and the scent made your head spin and your muscles relax. You felt his chest vibrate slightly as he hummed, closing your eyes and letting yourself be taken care of.

“You have to do this,” he whispered, and you suddenly realized that his lips were against the top of your head. “You have to do this, Y/N, because I know you. I know that you were meant to do this...we need doctors like you. Doctors who don’t just see it as a way to earn a paycheque— ones who will stop to ask a sick boy what his favorite pudding is. One who will spend their time holding someone’s hand during that last moment, because it’s just as important as the ones you spend saving someone. You...you saved that little boy, Y/N. In some way, somehow, you saved him. You did.”

The way you saved me, he wanted to say, but he simply closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He had been there alongside you as you grew, and he had always known there was something special about you— you had this light in your eyes and in the way you treated people that made him feel like the world wasn’t hopeless.

Like he wasn’t hopeless.

And maybe he should have realized that sooner, and maybe it shouldn’t have taken him finding you on a bedroom floor for him to realize that he loved you. But lord, did he ever love you. It hit him like a strike of thunder, and left him shaken to the core.

And all the meanwhile, you found yourself surprised at how easy it was to fit into his arms. You wondered if he always knew exactly what to say, and you realized that Harry was a bigger part of your life than you’d ever imagined.

He was the one who quizzed you for seven hours straight when you were studying for your MCATs. He was the first one you called when you passed them. Harry picked you up from your prom when your date showed up drunk and your brother was too busy to, and he took you out for ice cream afterwards and made you laugh about it. He was there with your family at your high school graduation even though he had graduated two years earlier, and when you got sick and your parents were out of town he cooked dinner for you for three days.

And suddenly you realized that Harry had been there for you in more ways than once.

And you were in love with him.

You tucked yourself further into his embrace at the realization, your eyes shut and still stinging from all the crying as your shoulders stopped trembling. He ran his hands up and down your back as you sighed, and with the feeling of his lips resting against the top of your head, you felt yourself drifting off to sleep for the first time in three days.

There was still a dull ache in your chest, but you felt safe again.

You were there, and Harry was there, and tomorrow would be a new day.

But you’d remember this one always.

[travelonlinetips-blog]

New Post has been published on https://travelonlinetips.com/the-ultimate-gold-coast-craft-beer-brewery-crawl-2/

The Ultimate Gold Coast Craft Beer Brewery Crawl

Forget settling in for a surf club session with an icy cold XXXX in hand; the craft beer revolution has hit the Gold Coast hard. Hop-loaded and brimming with flavour, there’s liquid gold to be found at the end of every Rainbow (Bay) in this glittering seaside city.

From south to north, here’s how to hop on the ultimate Gold Coast craft beer crawl for a frothing good time.

Fortitude Brewing Co., Mount Tamborine

Head for the hills of the Gold Coast Hinterland to the flavour masters at Fortitude Brewing Co. and grab a pint from either of their two brewed-onsite product lines: Fortitude or Noisy Minor Co. If laidback ale sessions are your thing try the former, or take-no-prisoners types can sip their way through the latter. Can’t decide? Make it a paddle.

Pair a paddle (or two) with a delicious wood-fired pizza and soak up the crisp air that surrounds.

Where: 165 Long Road, Mount Tamborine. When: Monday to Thursday 11am-4pm, Friday 11am-6pm, Saturday 10am-6pm, Sunday 10am-5pm.

Bearded Dragon Hotel, Mount Tamborine

Make your way down the mountain and hit up the Bearded Dragon Hotel to sample their decent selection of boutique craft beers, local and imported bottles and brews from their Mt Tamborine brewery.

Get amongst Queensland nature in their beer garden boasting mountain views and a couple of alpacas. Don’t forget to order some pub fare – they serve everything from beef and Guinness pie to bangers and mash – to help you soak it all up.

Where: LOT 2 Tamborine Mountain Rd, Tamborine. When: 7 days 10am-late.

Lester & Earl, Palm Beach

At Palm Beach’s Lester & Earl the taps are always ice cold and fully loaded. Grab a stool at the bar, which channels a Wild West saloon, and play eenie-meenie-minie-moe with Queensland’s best brews rotating through the 12 taps regularly.

Chase it down with a plate of American BBQ (think chicken wings, pulled pork nachos, slow-smoked brisket and ribs) or perch on the verandah, froth top in hand, and watch the sun set over the beach.

Where: 1097 Gold Coast Highway, Palm Beach. When: Wednesday and Thursday 4pm-10:30pm, Friday and Saturday 11am-midnight, Sunday 11am-10:30pm.

Balter Brewing, Currumbin

Helmed by a crew of the Gold Coast’s most famous pro surfers and buddies – including Mick Fanning, Bede Durbidge, Josh Kerr and Joel Parkinson – Balter is equal parts warehouse-style brew room and cool laneway bar.

The brewery’s cellar door is a place for a casual catch up with mates over a freshly pulled XPA or Balter’s own tinnies. Taste the offerings just metres from where all the magic happens, request a brewery tour, or nosh on some street food from one of the food trucks that roll up every Friday.

Where: 14 Traders Way, Currumbin. When: Wednesday and Thursday 3pm-8pm, Friday 3pm-9pm, Saturday 12pm-8pm, Sunday 12pm-7pm.

Lost Palms Brewing Co., Miami

If you rate the aesthetic of a drinking den as much as what’s pouring, the Lost Palms brewery in the cool hub of Miami is ripe for the Instagramming.

Here, you can sample the usual suspects like lager, pale ale and IPA brews, as well as creative concoctions like the key lime pie sour. But what sets these guys apart is their support of the local art community with frequent collabs on artist-designed cans and packaging.

Where: 11 Oak Avenue, Miami. When: Friday and Saturday 12pm-9pm, Sunday 12pm-7pm.

Burleigh Brewing Co., Burleigh Heads

Grab a seat in the taphouse at Burleigh Brewing Co., the OG of Gold Coast microbreweries. Super-cool digs are accompanied by many famous award-winning brews on the 24-tap line-up, from 28 Pale Ale and Figjam IPA to My Wife’s Bitter and a rotation of one-offs.

Takeaway cartons, growler fills and walk-through tours of the production traps are available when the bar’s open; while live music and food trucks add to the hoppiness.

Where: 2 Ern Harley Drive, Burleigh Heads. When: Friday and Saturday 3pm-8:30pm, Sunday 2pm-6pm.

Black Hops Brewery, Burleigh Heads

Giving the people what they want – and paid for – is Black Hops’ reason for being. The crowdfunded social media darling of a brewery flung its doors open in April 2016 to rapturous applause and many thirsty mouths.

The brewery’s garage-feel taproom is home to 14 taps serving up Black Hops’ core range of beers plus exclusive tipples only available onsite. Bonus: it’s family-and dog-friendly too!

Where: 15 Gardenia Grove, Burleigh Heads (there’s also Black Hops II – a second production brewery and taproom – located at 671 Pine Ridge Road, Biggera Waters). When: Wednesday to Friday 12pm-7pm, Saturday and Sunday 12pm-6pm.

Bine Bar and Dining, Mermaid Beach

For a serious paddlin’ from eight craft beer taps and loads of bottled beers, matched with decadent pub fare, hop on over to Bine Bar and Dining.

Pair your fruit beers, ciders, darks or pales with loaded burgers (mmm mushroom with spiced, hummus avocado and slaw), fancy parmis (hello, bacon and onion jam with camembert) and tacos (we’ll take three of the spicy buffalo chicken please) and dinner and drinks is sorted.

Where: 1/28 Chairlift Avenue, Mermaid Beach. When: Monday to Thursday 4pm-late, Friday 3pm-late, Saturday and Sunday 12pm-late.

Sandbar, Surfers Paradise

The neon-lit strip of Surfers Paradise isn’t all shots and cheap beer; there are plenty of craft beer haunts if you know where to look. Take Sandbar – inside the Hamptons-meets-harbourside fit-out their taps are a who’s who of the Gold Coast’s (plus Brisbane and Australia’s) best breweries.

Pull up a chair at one of the beach-side tables for an afternoon of views and brews, from gluten-free pale ale and barrel-aged ale to limited release bottles. The extensive wine, cocktail and spirits list is worth a glance as well.

Where: 52 The Esplanade, Surfers Paradise. When: Monday to Thursday 7am-1pm, Friday and Saturday 7am-midnight, Sunday 7am-10pm.

House of Brews, Surfers Paradise

Then, make your way to House of Brews to tackle the mammoth 32 taps that make up their draught beer selection and unleash your inner rock god or goddess with live music on weekends.

The American-inspired taphouse also serves up a mean food menu to wrap your smackers around. You can expect monster portions a la the U S of A when it comes to the big BBQ plate, 12-inch gourmet hot dog and burgers with waffle fries.

Where: 17 Orchid Avenue, Surfers Paradise. When: 7 days 12pm-1am.

  When to go

Raise your glass to the hoppiest time of the year! The Gold Coast’s biggest brew-fest, Crafted Beer & Cider Festival, pulls into Broadbeach on Saturday 7 September 2019. The perfect time to kick off your craft beer crawl, Crafted will showcase over 40 breweries and 200+ beers (including some festival exclusives) from your Gold Coast faves as well as interstate and international drops.

In true festival fashion, there’ll be lives tunes from The Delta Riggs and other local acts, plenty of tasty bites and even beer yoga to ensure good vibes all ’round.

Have we missed any? Where’s your favourite craft beer bar or brewery on the Gold Coast?  

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[kingfallstranscripts-blog]

Episode 17: Give Peas a Chance

Ben: I’m just saying, it’s a new year! Maybe we shouldn’t be talking about the same old subjects. Let’s take out a new lease on life…turn over a new leaf.

Doyle: And I’m just saying, Ben, that if there is a portal leading into my bathroom, and there is, then maybe more people should be aware, man.

Ben: I can’t…I can’t handle this. This is you, Sammy.

Ben: Not Ben! I mean, I am done! Nothing is happening in your house, Doyle!

Doyle: To be so open minded, you sure don’t want to expand your horizons and work with me here, Ben-Tin-Tin.

Ben: I usually only talk to people about real subjects, Doyle.

Doyle: Oh, it’s real. Real as can be. You’re just being a naysayer.

Ben: I’m not a naysayer.

Doyle: Oh-ho-ho, you’re naysaying for sure, bro.

Ben: I’m not a – Sammy, I can’t.

Sammy: Doyle, let’s get back to this portal or we’ll need to part ways for the evening.

Ben: Or forever.

Doyle: Alright, I feel you. So, I got this portal in my house, right. Craziest damn thing you ever saw.

Ben: And sometimes…late at night…

Doyle: You get it, boss man. So sometimes late at night, I wake up and gotta take a leaky-deaky, and it’s just sitting there in the bathroom door just a shimmerin and shiny. Looks like Willy Wonka just left a big fat golden ticket hangin in my door way.

Sammy: Uh-huh…

Doyle: Well. I only got one water closet, boys, and nature is a-callin. So, I pass through it and it’s all like SHHHEEERRROWOWOW –

Sammy: And *heavy sighs* Doyle, where does this portal transport you?

Doyle: That’s the thing… it takes me to my bathroom.

Ben: THIS IS WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT.

Doyle: But it’s not my bathroom… it just looks like my bathroom.

Ben: Because IT’S YOUR BATHROOM.

Doyle: Na-hooo, things have changed, bros…

Sammy: What’s changed?

Ben: You mean, other than listeners changing the station, Sammy?

Doyle: I can feel your negativity, Ben, and it’s comin in way hot. Like a bagel-bite fresh out of hell’s toaster. You’re harshin me, Ben.

Sammy: What is different after stepping through, Doyle?

Doyle: It’s like I’m in an alternate universe, Shot-Gun. I do my biz and I go to wash my hands, right? And AHYAYAYAYEBAWB0W- HOT IS COLD, COLD IS HOT. It’s done freaky Friday switcharooed me.

Ben: Jesus… BYE, DOYLE.

Doyle: Everything is reversed until I step back through the portal, boys.

Sammy: Okay, you know, thanks for calling and sharing, but –

Doyle: Oh-ho-ho. You don’t believe me…

Ben: NO! I don’t believe you! I think you’re stoned and sleep walking.

Doyle: Yeah? And I think you’re naysaying. Ain’t ever gonna bag Emily Potter like that, bro.

Sammy: Have a nice night.

Doyle: Totes. *hangs up*

Ben: Bag Emily? *scoffs* What’s that even mean?

Sammy: Okay, moving forward…

Ben: Right! Moving forward! Uh, we got some good stuff coming at the 5 o’clock hour. Jeanie Sherman from the King Falls Doggy Daycare will be chiming in on how to get your pets out of their post-holiday funk.

Sammy: That’s a thing?

Ben: That is a thing… I guess.

Sammy: Alright. Depressed dogs at 5am! We’re with ya. What do we have on tab now?

Ben: Uh, well – I mean…I kind of scheduled us a free period. I wasn’t sure if we’d blow through the Christmas Break news and… we did.

Sammy: Well we can only talk about Ms. Baker failing to make the world’s largest ginger bread house so much…

Ben: I agree, but it’s not particularly her fault. Apparently, the Williams Boys went in and ate a lot of load baring beams, so it was bound to come down.

Sammy: *laughs* Okay, give us a call, Kings Falls. Tell us how your holiday went and how you’re gonna kick ass on that New Year’s resolution.

Ben: We’re open to just about anything, folks! 424-279-3858 or give a tweet on the ol’ twitter machine.

Sammy: Looks like we got a taker already. Line 7, welcome to Kings Falls AM with Sammy and Ben.

Troy: Hey, fellas.

Ben: WE’RE BUSY, Troy.

Troy: You know dang well I’m listening right now and you two are just dilly-dallying until Ms. Sherman.

Sammy: How’re doing this evening, Troy? Keeping the mean streets of King Falls safe this evening?

Troy: Actually, it’s an off night. I was hoping I could come swing by the station and give Ben a little somthin…

Ben: Still this? Just leave it at the door and go!

Sammy: Ben!

Ben: Sorry, say hi to Sammy…and leave it at the door and go.

Sammy: Troy, we would love to have you in the studio to hang out. How far out are you?

Troy: Couple minutes away, Sammy!

Ben: You were already driving up here?

Troy: Well, yeah…just in case. *weird squeaking animal noise in the background*

Ben: What’s that noise?

Troy: I don’t hear nary a thing, Ben. See ya soon, buddy. *hangs up*

Ben: In studio, Sammy?

Sammy: He’s bring you a present.

Ben: Like the present Storm tried to bring us?

Sammy: Let’s hope not…

Ben: Let’s just… go back to the phones before he gets here.

Sammy: Power through, buddy. Line 7 again, you are live in King Falls AM.

*knocking on door*

Ben: Jesus! Already?!

Sammy: I’m gonna grab the door, you grab the call.

Ben: I’m gonna make an executive decision and just move the break to here. Be back in a minute!

(Commercial starts with political-type music)

Narrator: In two weeks come join King Falls AM at the Main Street Park for a special presentation.

Grisham: Hi, I’m Mayor Steven Grisham, and it’s that joyous time once again, folks. Come join myself, the King Falls Chamber of Commerce, and all our wonderful residents in commemorating a very special day in King Falls history.

Narrator: You are cordially invited to join us in celebrating our wonderful town being voted The Best Small Town in America by the King Falls Chamber of Commerce for the 7th straight year.

Grisham: Come on down Friday, January 15 and help us kick off another amazing year in our lovely town. There will be live music, fun and games for the kids, that weird food truck, and a special announcement by yours truly.

Narrator: The festivities begin at noon with a special ribbon cutting ceremony hosted by Mayor Grisham and King Falls AM’s own Sammy Stevens and Ben Arnold.

Grisham: So, come join the biggest party of the year! And let us all hope big number 7 is our lucky number:

(Welcome Back to 660 theme plays)

Ben: I’m not opening it! I-I don’t care!

Sammy: Can you guys please adult a little better?

Troy: 10-4, Sammy.

Sammy: Did you hear that ad, Ben?

Ben: Hear it? I had to help edit it.

Sammy: How do we get roped into hosting that rigged get together with Mayor Grisham?!

Ben: I told you about that…

Sammy: You most defiantly did not tell me about that.

Ben: Oh, I absolutely did! Because I didn’t know how you were gonna feel about being on stage with the Mayor… and Merv emailed and said we had to? So I was worried about the wording and – DAMMIT. I didn’t send it…

Sammy: I don’t wanna do this. You know how I feel about the Mayor and that ridiculous voting –

Ben: Sammy! Can you please adult a little better?

Sammy: *under his breath* Dammit.

Troy: Oh, you’ll have a grand old time, Sammy! All the residents come out block party style. There’s some damn good food and some damn good fun.

Ben: Yeah, Sammy. Plus, if you hang out a bit Chet usually gets plastered and starts playing saxophone and hitting on the soccer moms.

Sammy: Oh, so it’s just regular Chet.

Ben: Yeah, but in a public setting.

Sammy: It sounds like the best fake party a town could throw -

(Lots of static and cutting out – picking up on another transmission)

Ben: *between static barely audible* Don’t be like that, Sammy.

Beauregard’s Worker: *on another signal cutting in through the static* Yeah, it’s almost ready.

Beauregard: *through static* I don’t care how hard it is! Just make it work!

Worker: I’m on it sir, but, uh, last time we pushed it to the limit, i-it knocked the whole town off the grid for weeks!

Beauregard: Don’t tell me what it did. Show me what it can do. Do you need help moving that? Celestia! Wake the yard boy and have him help Thompson and this gadget.

Thompson: It’s okay, we don’t wanna move it until it’s ready –

Beauregard: I will not have this eyesore in my east wing for another night! Either it’s ready or it’s moving.

Thompson: I – uh, I’m sorry! It’s j-just not ready. Between this and school starting back up, I’m doing all I can!

Beauregard: Do more! You’re amassing a small fortune and my patience is growing thin…

Pete: Hey, Mr. B…  *yawns* What can I do ya for?

Beauregard: Don’t just stand there! You simpleton! Help Thompson move the signal transmogrifier into the –

Pete: Ohhhhh! Is that the thing that caused the Electrolocaust?

Ben: *cutting back into transmission* Okay just because he can sit in on us doesn’t mean I have to open his late Christmas present.

Sammy: Guys, please! Take a couple calls and maybe you’ll change your mind.

Ben: What is this stupid thing anyway? This is a ploy!

Troy: I left it in the car, Ben. I don’t think you should be opening it live on the air, anyway.

Ben: Oh, I don’t think I should open it up at all. But let me tell you, if I’m opening your dumb gift, it’s gonna be live!

Sammy: GUYS! More phone calls, less arguing.

Ben & Troy: Sorry.

Sammy: Line 11 welcome to King Falls AM with Sammy, Ben, and special guest… Deputy Troy.

Troy: That’s off duty Deputy Troy tonight.

Caller: Hey,Shot-Gun!

Sammy: Hey…you…

Caller: Don’t wanna take up a slew of your time, Shot-Gun, but I think you guys just had your frequency hijacked or something.

Ben: What do you mean, sir?

Caller: Pirates! I was listening and then it just cut into something else!

Sammy: The commercial, you mean?

Caller: Don’t be silly! I know a paid advertisement when I hear one, Shot-Gun!

Ben: What was it? Music? What’d it sound like?

Sammy: Are you sure you’re tuned in properly?

Caller: Ha! And yes! It was just science-y sounds... just trying to do a service to my favorite AM station in the whole wide world! Haha! And I did!

Sammy: Uh-huh…okay, buddy, well thanks for letting us know.

Caller: Anything for the show, Shot-Gun!

Ben: Dude are you still –

Caller: Shot-Guuuuuuuuuun (makes noise like a car engine) Shammy! *hangs up*

Troy: I like that guy.

Ben: You would…

Sammy: Lucky Line number 1.

Ben: You’re live on King Falls AM with Sammy and Ben. Nobody else.

Caller: Boys I’m lost as can be. Like a grown man at a Miley Cyrus concert. Lost, I tell ya.

Ben: I guess we can try to help. Where you at?

Sammy: It’s Sweetser Forrest, I just know it!

Caller: I was headin up to my mama’s old place. I used to live up here in King Falls, but I’ll be damned if Abaline didn’t get me.

Ben: Hey! Good job, Sammy!

Troy: Who’s this we’re speakin to? You sound awfully familiar, friend.

Caller: Well hell yeah I sound familiar, Troy! You might know me back from my number 1 smash hit in 2003 “She Ain’t Worth the Car She Drove Away In”

Ben: NO WAY!!!!!

Troy: I am not believing this.

Ben: Dusty Reynolds?!

Dusty: As the census says, the one and only! How you fellas, doin?

Ben: Better now, man!

Sammy: I’m sorry. Who’s this we’re excited about?

Ben: This guy is a bonafide King Falls LEGEND.

Dusty: Legend might be a little high, heh, but I’ll take it.

Troy: Ol’ Dusty here left King Falls right after graduation and went off and became a big star.

Sammy: A big star?

Dusty: Now, now… I wouldn’t go that far, but you two go right ahead…

Ben: He was number 1 on the music charts, Sammy! AND he’s a hometown boy!

Sammy: Well that’s something! What kind of song was it? Where did it chart?

Dusty: The only two that do count: country and western.

Sammy: Oh! Okay…

Ben: Sing us a lil somethin’ Dusty!

Dusty: Well, I don’t think I should, but… ahem. ♪Well I know you loved him, back when he was a girl ♪

Troy: Oh, damn, he’s still got it!

Sammy: *softly* Is… is this real life? Are-are you guys messing with me?

Ben: What’re you doing driving back to The Falls is the middle of the damn night, man?

Dusty: I gave up the biz, Ben. Just cold turkey.

Troy: Shucks…

Dusty: I just lost sight of what made it special. Figured I’d come back home and try to find that spark again. Plus, Mayor Grisham hired me to sing a song at this thing in a couple weeks. No better time to start over than now.

Ben: You’ll be right back at the top in now time, buddy!

Dusty: You better believe it! I was just too happy… good kids, great house, wife as hot as road tar! I guess I needed to lose it all just so I could find my roots.

Troy: You sayin you and Gloria broke up? I ain’t seen a relationship change or status update or nothin.

Dusty: Oh, it’s all over the TMZ. I was out doing the country fair circuit and she was havin Javier our pool boy scrub way more than the jacuzzi… She took it all. My heart, my soul, even my dignity. Whitney Houston don’t know (censored)!

Ben: S-sorry to hear that…

Dusty: Well, you win some, you lose some. Dammit, that’s what I’m talking about! I need the sadness, hombre. I gotta get the blues back to go with my god-given rhythm.

Sammy: Well, welcome back home, sir. Wish it were under better circumstances.

Dusty: Thanks a lot, Dimond Dave.

Sammy: Actually, this is Sammy Stevens…

Troy: Give us a little encore before you go, Dusty.

Dusty: Come on, Troy! You know I shouldn’t! Ahem… ♪Hey there, spooky ghost, you better let me go! Hey there, spooky ghost, you’re see through ass is too slow! ♪

Ben: Never gets old! Talk to ya later, Dusty.

Troy: Later, buddy! We’ll hook it up once you get back and get settled.

Dusty: But- I really did need some help! *call disconnects*

Ben: Wow! Can’t believe that S-O-B is coming back home!

Sammy: *dryly* He sounds like a laugh a minute.

Troy: We had some good times back in the day… didn’t we, Ben?

Ben: Don’t use Dusty’s goodwill to wedge back into my life, Troy.

Troy: You know what, I’m real tired of goin round and round with you. Here’s the thick and thin of it: Imma give that present and if you don’t like it we don’t ever have to speak again.

Ben: You promise?!

Sammy: Guys… that’s an awful big promise to keep. Let’s all just calm down…

Troy: I mean it! Forrealsies! If you hate this thing, which I got outta the kindness of my heart, then we couldn’t stand to be pals anyway.

Ben: You just signed a check that you aren’t prepared to cash, Troy.

Troy: You just signed a check…well… I ain’t just gonna copy you, but… you messed up, future bud. BRB

(Sounds of Troy getting up and leaving)

Ben: Even if I love this thing I’m gonna –

Sammy: While I don’t agree you two should be putting your entire future on the line based on a belated Christmas gift… you should at least play fair.

Ben: Oh, I will. I’m just sayin… even if it’s good…

(Sounds of Troy coming back. Weird animal noises start up again)

Troy: Now, look, I got the box. But…I just don’t think you should do this live on the air.

Ben: Oh, it’s happening live! I want the entire town to hear the disappointment.

(animal noises getting louder)

Sammy: Is that thing supposed to be making that racket?

Troy: Google says it does. (animal continues) Here it is, Ben.

Ben: You serious? You’re not even gonna say “Merry Christmas”?

Troy: I ain’t squeezing out another syllable until you open that box.

Ben: It’s shaking, man. It’s shaking and making noises. I’m a little worried.

Sammy: Ladies and gentlemen, Ben has stepped away from his mic and is laying the box on the table.

Troy: Oh, I gotta get a picture of this!

Sammy: And now Troy is leaving his microphone and going around to Ben. Hey! Hey, don’t push him, Ben! Sorry. Ben’s opening the box now. If this was morning radio I’d hit the Brad Pitt “WHAT’S IN THE BOX?” button right now…

(animal noise stops)

Ben: NO (censored) WAY! (animal yips happily)

Troy: I told you! Didn’t I tell ya? Didn’t I tell him, Sammy?!

Sammy: Okay, for real, what’s in the box?

Ben: Troy… I…can’t believe it.

Troy: You folks listening at home can’t see, but I’m doing my best buddy two-step.

Sammy: Come on! What is it?!

Ben: I’m just…in shock.

Troy: Are we buddies?

Sammy: This is worse than the briefcase in Pulp Fiction…WHAT’S IN THE DAMN BOX?!

Ben: Troy… we are friends. Dude, I can’t believe it!

Troy: How bout a hug for old times’ sake?

Sammy: Don’t push it, Troy…

Ben: Bring it in, big guy!

Sammy: Alright, dammit! I’m gonna go look in the box, excuse me, folks.

Ben: This is the most thoughtful gift that anyone has ever given me. I’m…so sorry I gave you all this grief.

Troy: It’s alright. Hatchet buried, little buddy.

Sammy: What the HELL is that thing?!

Ben: Sammy, you remember Serendipity, right? That’s what this is! Troy got me a sugar glid-

Troy: AHEM! Cat!

Ben: What?

Troy: Well, I got you a new cat. I could never replace ol’ Serendipity the sugar glider no matter how much I wanted because as we all know, sugar gliders aren’t allowed to be brought into the state as a domestic pet.

Sammy: That is the weirdest cat that I’ve ever seen.

Ben: Right! A cat! The best friggin’ cat ever! Does he have a name?

Troy: You’re gonna love it: Peas! Peas the sugar gl-

Ben: CAT. Peas the cat…

Troy: Yup, Peas the cat. Partly cause he loves to eat peas, and…partly cause I was hoping you’d give peas a chance.

Ben: I need another hug, Troy! GET OVER HERE!

Sammy: *laughs* Okay, I think we’re gonna take a quick break and get this…cat out of the studio. Maybe if I can pry apart this bro hug I’ll tell Troy it’s actually “give peace a chance”… Maybe not. We’ll be right back after a word from our sponsors, folks.

[junker-town]

‘Hard Knocks’ Recap: A business trip to beautiful Jacksonville

The Bucs travel to Jacksonville; Jameis Winston throws a hilarious interception; Chris Baker humps a tree; everyone eats wings.

On this week’s episode of Hard Knocks, the Bucs traveled to Jacksonville for a couple days of practice against the Jaguars before the two teams played in the preseason. These are the main takeaways.

Stop Trying to Make Doug Martin Happen

The Bucs are filled with fascinating characters. Gerald McCoy is as intelligent and entertaining as he is intelligent. Jameis Winston — caveat here — is a fascinating combination of leadership and talent capable of head-smacking stupidity. Mike Evans and DeSean Jackson have a heartwarming bromance. Brent Grimes and his wife Miko — I swear this is a compliment — should be studied by psychologists. Fringe cornerback Robert McClain is a talented artist with a beautiful family. And on, and on, and on.

For the first two episodes, I kept wondering, “Where the heck is Doug Martin?” He showed some promise as a physical entertainer when he briefly appeared last week to usher some rookies offstage, but he was otherwise absent until this episode.

And now I know why: Doug Martin is the dullest person on the team. His voice is a natural monotone. He referred to his time in rehab as a “journey” while saying nothing about addiction or his treatment (he tested positive for Adderall, but the show gave no specifics beyond “violating the league’s drug policy”). Entering his sixth year, he says he needs to “start” acting like a veteran, even as the head coach singles out rookie Riley Bullough for his leadership. In a noble but failed effort to give him some personality, HBO showed him riding an electric skateboard (he didn’t want to rollerblade or ride a bike in college).

Martin isn’t bad or unlikable, he’s just boring. Now I know why he didn’t want to be called Muscle Hamster: he doesn’t deserve a nickname that interesting.

The Chucky and Rex Show

Three episodes of Hard Knocks, two appearances by Jon Gruden. There are perfectly good reasons for this that are not necessarily related to the Bucs’ present coach being Madame Tussaud’s version of Pete Carroll, but the optics aren’t great. Still, I welcome Chucky and his Mark Davis haircut, especially since the ESPN crew working the Bucs’ preseason game have brought along rookie broadcaster Rex Ryan, who’s just here to trash his former quarterbacks and suck on some toes. AND HE’S ALL OUTTA TOES.

REX (to Jameis Winston): You know, I’m jealous. I never had a quarterback like you, you know what I mean? That’s why I’m sitting here, and I’m pissed off about it.

GRUDEN: You think YOU’RE pissed off about it? [everyone laughs] I gotta LIVE in Tampa!

REX: Look at the guys you had. Shit, my guys were better than your guys.

GRUDEN: I got my four ki— three kids wearing Jameis Winston jerseys.

Here are the things I love about this exchange:

Rex Ryan blames his firings on having shitty quarterbacks. And buddy, I’ve got your back when it comes to Mark Sanchez and Geno Smith and Greg McElroy (not to mention backup Tim Tebow). But Tyrod Taylor is pretty good, and Buffalo’s rushing attack was excellent the two years Ryan was there. That Bills defense, though? Not exactly the result of a supposed defensive mastermind.

Rex openly states — unprompted, on video, in front of his co-workers — that he’s pissed about having his job.

For a moment, I thought Gruden’s “You think YOU’RE pissed off about it?” was an excellent burn on Rex — and from the reaction, so did everyone in the room. Alas, he was talking about his proximity to the Bucs, and how often he sees Winston practice and play.

Rex states that Gruden’s dogshit quarterbacks were worse than HIS dogshit quarterbacks — which isn’t true, but it IS funny that Ryan doesn’t pick up on the subtext: if Gruden won a Super Bowl with worse quarterbacks, what does it say about HIS ability as a coach?

Jon Gruden is unsure how many kids he has?

SWAG CHECK

Oh hell yeah: we’ve got a packing and traveling montage! Time to get some slo-mo walks to the buses! We’ve got some GQ mofos going from Tampa to Jacksonville:

Watch out Russell Westbrook! The intentionally gaudy shirt isn’t my cup of tea, but it’s of the moment and fitted to his big frame. With the chain and stylish sunglasses, he looks good, and he knows it.

Gerald McCoy continues his flawless scene streak in Hard Knocks. August heat in Florida won’t keep him from looking good in tight black pants, and he’s made the most “stylish adult” decision of all: the only way to look truly good with luggage is to spend a lot of money on it and carry it in your hands.

Oh my goodness. Did my channel somehow change to a network airing a dramedy about a fabulously charming lawyer? Ladies and gentlemen, SPORT is in session!

And wait, are those ...

... CHERUB CHAINS?!?! Help, my TV is melting from this heat. Honey, cash my 401(k), I have to pay this man whatever it takes to be my personal stylist.

Okay, who’s next?

... oh.

Becky, your dad’s here!

Beautiful, Scenic Jacksonville

The First Law of Hard Knocks is: If something can look epic, it will look epic. Tacky team headquarters will be captured with breathtaking drone footage panoramas. If a garbage barge passes by, it will be shot in low-angle slow-motion during the golden hour. If a team travels to Jacksonville, Florida — our nation’s sprawling ode to shipping containers and jungle rot — then it will look like a goddamn postcard.

To be clear: that is a screenshot I slapped some text on. I know, it’s a little slapdash. But I’m not going to shell out for Avalon font just so I can make the Internet a better Jacksonville postcard.

A Moment for Chris Baker

Defensive tackle Chris Baker (pictured humping a tree) has been a delightful trash talker in every episode this season, getting more air time each week — and with good reason. Here he is talking with some Jaguars fans:

You crazy, boy. We out here destroyin’ y’all. Y’all got to be the angriest fans in the world. Cuz y’all ... is going to get at least three wins.

He also split a sideline hot dog with Gerald McCoy during the second half of the preseason game at Jacksonville.

McCOY: Hey Bake! (waves hot dog) You so fat. You gotta be the fattest dude I know.

BAKER: Where’d you get it from, bro?

McCOY: Don’t worry about it. You want half?

He pulled a Sanchez! Don’t disrespect the game!

Lunch is on Gerald

While in Jacksonville, Coach Koetter informs the team that McCoy has arranged for three food trucks to provide ribs, wings, and snow cones for lunch, all paid for by the star defensive tackle (McCoy to Baker: “Except you, Bake.”)

This is an awesome gesture. I love hot wings and ribs.

BUT. Giving 90 massive pro athletes — many of them over 300 pounds — as many hot wings as they can eat ... for lunch ... in Jacksonville ... in August ... seems like an act of war on the hotel’s plumbing. My heart goes out to those poor toilets.

GOAT RESCUE

THE SCENE: Quarterbacks Jameis Winston, Ryan Fitzpatrick, and Ryan Griffin ask about Sefo Liufau’s girlfriend. A condensed version of their discussion follows.

LIUFAU: Her family has four goats.

WINSTON: Oh, so she rich?

GRIFFIN: You’re so country.

WINSTON: If you got goats, you got MONEY. I’m from Alabama. If you got some cattle, you rich.

LIUFAU: I’m pretty sure they got the goats from goat rescue, they’re only like $100.

Jameis Winston LOVED the idea of a goat rescue operation that worked like a dog shelter.

Elsewhere in the realm of quarterbacks, Fitzpatrick had some excellent, subtle digs at Winston. The best was following a pregame huddle with the offense, in which the players repeated each line of Winston’s poem about beating the Jaguars. After the interminable scene, Fitz, sitting next to Winston at their lockers, leaned over and deadpanned, “You rhyme was a little long.” But I also enjoyed this:

FITZ: Would you say Muhammad Ali is one of your biggest inspirations?

WINSTON: Yes.

FITZ: When you talk, when you break down, I can, like, I can just feel that you’ve seen a lot of his stuff.

This conversation was immediately followed by a clip of Winston speaking to the team, and Fitz is clearly right: it’s like a cross between Ali and Ray Lewis.

“First you get the money, then you get the goats!”

Disappointed Dirk

He threw this.

Okay, first: if you have not seen Winston GLORIOUS interception that was overturned because he was ruled down, you must go watch it now.

The exchange that happened next was beautiful, because Dirk Koetter has never been more relatable. For one minute, Koetter is the football version of “extremely pissed off dad who is trying to be loving and constructive with his son, but is also JUST SO PISSED AT HIM.”

DIRK: Jameis. You’re fuckin’ playing a great game. You’re playing a great game. And then your greed takes over. If this is real football, that’s so fuckin’ stupid. That’s guaranteed points! You’re so much better than that! You’re so much better. You’re playing a great game. You just threw a great, perfect spot to O.J., GREAT go route, and then you fuckin’ do that!

JAMEIS: I got you. I got you.

DIRK: You can’t do that! Ever! Ever! Ever!

I hope Winston NEVER cuts down on his turnovers. Just an entire career of every TV announcer raving about how talented he is while he throws 18 picks a year. “Such POISE while throwing that backbreaking pick, Troy.”

The Cruel Business

This episode’s rookie undrafted free agent to fall in love with was Maurice Fleming. We get the full, nasty arc of his tragedy over the course of one hour: we meet him hanging out in a pool with other rookies. He shines in practice. He wakes up before sunrise to train on his own.

The coaches praise him. In the preseason game, he injures his knee as the Jaguars make a desperate final drive. He can’t cut. He can barely run. But he stays on the field, because he has to stay on the field to make the team. He makes the game-saving pass break-up.

But this story doesn’t have a happy ending, because it’s the NFL. Fleming gets X-rays and an MRI on his knee, then waits for a small eternity to get the results. He’ll be out four weeks, so he’s out of a job. The Bucs waive him.

What a crap-ass league.

MONTAGE RANKINGS

Jameis Winston workout montage

Doug Martin game footage montage

Team walk-through montage. An odd choice, I know, but I liked that it was (a) scored by the director of team security playing a hotel piano, and (b) showed this extremely weird-looking thing that every single NFL team does before a game.

Food preparation montage. I’m very hungry right now.

Sucking at practice montage

Offense clicking montage

Gassers montage. Don’t make gassers a montage unless you deliver on a puke shot.

Players’ day off montage. This didn’t have enough music or quick-cuts to be a true montage, I just wanted to point out that Ali Marpet spent his off day reading a book, eating sushi, and playing his ukulele by himself on Picnic Island.

haha, look at this lonely nerd!

But for real, he seems nice.

[travelonlinetips-blog]

New Post has been published on https://travelonlinetips.com/the-ultimate-gold-coast-craft-beer-crawl-2/

The ultimate Gold Coast craft beer crawl

Forget settling in for a surf club session with an icy cold XXXX in hand; the craft beer revolution has hit the Gold Coast hard. Hop-loaded and brimming with flavour, there’s liquid gold to be found at the end of every Rainbow (Bay) in this glittering seaside city.

From south to north, here’s how to hop on the ultimate Gold Coast craft beer crawl for a frothing good time.

Fortitude Brewing Co., Mount Tamborine

Head for the hills of the Gold Coast Hinterland to the flavour masters at Fortitude Brewing Co. and grab a pint from either of their two brewed-onsite product lines: Fortitude or Noisy Minor Co. If laidback ale sessions are your thing try the former, or take-no-prisoners types can sip their way through the latter. Can’t decide? Make it a paddle.

Pair a paddle (or two) with a delicious wood-fired pizza and soak up the crisp air that surrounds.

Where: 165 Long Road, Mount Tamborine. When: Monday to Thursday 11am-4pm, Friday 11am-6pm, Saturday 10am-6pm, Sunday 10am-5pm.

Bearded Dragon Hotel, Mount Tamborine

Make your way down the mountain and hit up the Bearded Dragon Hotel to sample their decent selection of boutique craft beers, local and imported bottles and brews from their Mt Tamborine brewery.

Get amongst Queensland nature in their beer garden boasting mountain views and a couple of alpacas. Don’t forget to order some pub fare – they serve everything from beef and Guinness pie to bangers and mash – to help you soak it all up.

Where: LOT 2 Tamborine Mountain Rd, Tamborine. When: 7 days 10am-late.

Lester & Earl, Palm Beach

At Palm Beach’s Lester & Earl the taps are always ice cold and fully loaded. Grab a stool at the bar, which channels a Wild West saloon, and play eenie-meenie-minie-moe with Queensland’s best brews rotating through the 12 taps regularly.

Chase it down with a plate of American BBQ (think chicken wings, pulled pork nachos, slow-smoked brisket and ribs) or perch on the verandah, froth top in hand, and watch the sun set over the beach.

Where: 1097 Gold Coast Highway, Palm Beach. When: Wednesday and Thursday 4pm-10:30pm, Friday and Saturday 11am-midnight, Sunday 11am-10:30pm.

Balter Brewing, Currumbin

Helmed by a crew of the Gold Coast’s most famous pro surfers and buddies – including Mick Fanning, Bede Durbidge, Josh Kerr and Joel Parkinson – Balter is equal parts warehouse-style brew room and cool laneway bar.

The brewery’s cellar door is a place for a casual catch up with mates over a freshly pulled XPA or Balter’s own tinnies. Taste the offerings just metres from where all the magic happens, request a brewery tour, or nosh on some street food from one of the food trucks that roll up every Friday.

Where: 14 Traders Way, Currumbin. When: Wednesday and Thursday 3pm-8pm, Friday 3pm-9pm, Saturday 12pm-8pm, Sunday 12pm-7pm.

Lost Palms Brewing Co., Miami

If you rate the aesthetic of a drinking den as much as what’s pouring, the Lost Palms brewery in the cool hub of Miami is ripe for the Instagramming.

Here, you can sample the usual suspects like lager, pale ale and IPA brews, as well as creative concoctions like the key lime pie sour. But what sets these guys apart is their support of the local art community with frequent collabs on artist-designed cans and packaging.

Where: 11 Oak Avenue, Miami. When: Friday and Saturday 12pm-9pm, Sunday 12pm-7pm.

Burleigh Brewing Co., Burleigh Heads

Grab a seat in the taphouse at Burleigh Brewing Co., the OG of Gold Coast microbreweries. Super-cool digs are accompanied by many famous award-winning brews on the 24-tap line-up, from 28 Pale Ale and Figjam IPA to My Wife’s Bitter and a rotation of one-offs.

Takeaway cartons, growler fills and walk-through tours of the production traps are available when the bar’s open; while live music and food trucks add to the hoppiness.

Where: 2 Ern Harley Drive, Burleigh Heads. When: Friday and Saturday 3pm-8:30pm, Sunday 2pm-6pm.

Black Hops Brewery, Burleigh Heads

Giving the people what they want – and paid for – is Black Hops’ reason for being. The crowdfunded social media darling of a brewery flung its doors open in April 2016 to rapturous applause and many thirsty mouths.

The brewery’s garage-feel taproom is home to 14 taps serving up Black Hops’ core range of beers plus exclusive tipples only available onsite. Bonus: it’s family-and dog-friendly too!

Where: 15 Gardenia Grove, Burleigh Heads. When: Wednesday to Friday 12pm-7pm, Saturday and Sunday 12pm-6pm.

Bine Bar and Dining, Mermaid Beach

For a serious paddlin’ from eight craft beer taps and loads of bottled beers, matched with decadent pub fare, hop on over to Bine Bar and Dining.

Pair your fruit beers, ciders, darks or pales with loaded burgers (mmm mushroom with spiced, hummus avocado and slaw), fancy parmis (hello, bacon and onion jam with camembert) and tacos (we’ll take three of the spicy buffalo chicken please) and dinner and drinks is sorted.

Where: 1/28 Chairlift Avenue, Mermaid Beach. When: Monday to Thursday 4pm-late, Friday 3pm-late, Saturday and Sunday 12pm-late.

Sandbar, Surfers Paradise

The neon-lit strip of Surfers Paradise isn’t all shots and cheap beer; there are plenty of craft beer haunts if you know where to look. Take Sandbar – inside the Hamptons-meets-harbourside fit-out their taps are a who’s who of the Gold Coast’s (plus Brisbane and Australia’s) best breweries.

Pull up a chair at one of the beach-side tables for an afternoon of views and brews, from gluten-free pale ale and barrel-aged ale to limited release bottles. The extensive wine, cocktail and spirits list is worth a glance as well.

Where: 52 The Esplanade, Surfers Paradise. When: Monday to Thursday 7am-1pm, Friday and Saturday 7am-midnight, Sunday 7am-10pm.

House of Brews, Surfers Paradise

Then, make your way to House of Brews to tackle the mammoth 32 taps that make up their draught beer selection and unleash your inner rock god or goddess with live music on weekends.

The American-inspired taphouse also serves up a mean food menu to wrap your smackers around. You can expect monster portions a la the U S of A when it comes to the big BBQ plate, 12-inch gourmet hot dog and burgers with waffle fries.

Where: 17 Orchid Avenue, Surfers Paradise. When: 7 days 12pm-1am.

Have we missed any? Where’s your favourite craft beer bar or brewery on the Gold Coast?  

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