The Good, The Bad and The Ugly part 1

So I realize that I have been neglecting my blog but it has been for a REALLY good reason.  I have been in a rando life rut the last two weeks but I am HERE to tell you…this weekend ripped me STRAIGHT out of it.  The following NOVEL will be a depiction (to my best recollection) of the events that took place this weekend.  You are to decide which parts are the good which are the bad and which are the ugly…

 Dude…I srsly have no idea where to begin with this weekend.  Carrie Adams (Ms Adams if you’re nasty) flew into my AO at approx. 7pm Thursday evening after a failed alarm (you will find that alarm clocks made valiant efforts to ruin our plans throughout the weekend but we prevailed…for the most part) had her miss her flight…yup things started out smoothly.  I conducted a smash and grab op from Reagan National Airport and we were on our way scarfing down ground turkey and spinach and spaghetti squash with a jar of almond butter in the Jetta speeding (safely?) up I95 en route to the BK.

The drive north went off without a hitch other than my lack of cash for ANY tolls on the NJT and the fact that I MAY or may not have had several moments where I wanted to JDAM the Holland Tunnel and all the people that had a blatant disregard for my personal safety and cared less that I have a concealed weapons permit and a Springfield XD .40 cal subcompact…just saying…

Carrie and I arrived at the bed down location of one Maurya Scanlon at approximately 11pm.  She lead us to our sleeping quarters for the evening and we debriefed, hot washed and conducted minor mission planning for the next day…then POOF we were asleep.

Again a failed alarm tried to cause Mscan to be late for work.  Luckily I have to pee a lot, all the time so I was awoken by my bladder with enough time to get her out of bed and ready for work on-time-ish.  A few hours later after figuring out how to create a coffee like beverage in the city apartment and making ourselves SOMEwhat presentable Carrie and I ventured out to South BK to visit Shane at CrossFit South Brooklyn.  Dude…I am here to tell you that guy is EFFING money.  We watched him conduct a private session with two women and I was thoroughly impressed with his patience and demeanor while training nugs…I have VERY little patience and I yell a lot … ask the Nicholsons they can confirm…ya know different strokes and all.  Shane was More than 
accommodating to us took us to lunch and tried to get us lost made jokes that we didn’t get and scared me a little when I tried to hug him goodbye…BUT I got a wicked awesome free tank top out of the deal so it was worth it. 


Then things got … complicated.  It SEEMED easy enough.  Let’s go to Trader Joes for road snacks so that Katya doesn’t get irrationally hungry on the trip to Killington…OH in case I forgot to mention…I went to Killington this weekend to run the Spartan Beast, a 12 mile race through the Green Mountains of Vermont as part of the Spartan Chicked Army.  I feel like I should have mentioned that at the beginning…I will get into greater detail on THAT a little later…first things first…let's GET to VT.  OK so what should have been a 3.2 mile drive from CF SBK to the Mecca that is T-Joes turned into a 50 minute crawl through Brooklyn traffic.  It also turned into the catalyst for my cemented decision that I will NEVER live in NYC or any burrow there of…DONE won’t happen don’t ask me again.  Once out of the 7^th layer of hell and back to Mscans pad, we all packed up, loaded up, and headed out.  I told Maurya that I was NOT going to drive until we were out of the city under the guise that IF I were to have to maneuver out of there I would in fact be forced to commit terror and I spend my entire adult life trying to PREVENT terror from occurring so…

So asleep I fell happily in the back seat of the Jetta amongst billowing brown paper T-Joe’s bags filled with bananas, dehydrated green beans, turkey, apples, almonds and granola.  I was a happy napper until I was jolted awake by the sudden slowing speeds of my TDI.  It appeared we had been traveling at the speed of sound for some time and the UpStaties no longer wished to turn a blind eye.  We were forced to the side of the road where all three of us lovely ladies put on our BEST “Oh its only 60mph here…tee hehe we are SOOOO sorry and so VERY cute officer…” HOLY eff it didn’t work not even a little bit.  Thanks to my expired registration and MScans Rearden Metal foot we were instructed to pull to the park and ride, park and no longer ride.  We were told but officer “Doesn’t think we are funny” that id he caught us driving we were donsies.  We had a few moments of panic but Margaret Schlachter being the AMAZABALLS team manager that she is came to our rescue…it just took her 3 hours to make the drive…wha wha whaaaaaa.  SO what did we do you ask? Solicit strangers for a ride to the liqu to purchase coffee and Heinekens…because that’s the best thing to do before a WHORE-id race.  The lovely officer “I was picked on in high school and now wield EVERY ounce of power I have at my will” came and checked on us 4 times.  During this time we ate, drank, were merry, practiced double unders, put on high heels, danced to loud music, sang Con Te Partiro and Jay-Z songs, lip synced to Heats’ “Alone”, cleaned out my car, waved to Officer “I never get blowies”, peed in the woods, bibbed, complained about being bloated, talked about boys, talked about girls, talked about the race, talked about how much we hate NY and waited on our savior.  TBC.