Category: Colorado

Runnin’ runnin’ and runnin’ runnin’…

Posted by Brandy – May 30, 2008

Well, for those of you keeping track, my 10k was this past Monday (Memorial Day). And, as evidenced by the fact that I am still alive, it went pretty well. I was going to break it down my what I was experiencing at each mile, but that would have read something like this:

Mile 1: Seriously, I’ve just done one mile?
Mile 2: This isn’t too bad.
Mile 3: Stop lying to yourself, Campbell. This kind of sucks.
Mile 4: Remember when you used to be able to breathe? Those were good times.
Mile 5: I CAN DO THIS!
Mile 6: If you don’t at least jog the last .2 miles, you will look like the biggest idiot ever.

Not really very inspiring. But here are the things I learned while running the Bolder Boulder:

  • Running will never be “in my blood.” I’m really not a runner. I would love to keep up this training. Heck, I would love to do more races, and work on my time. But I will never be one of those crazy, thinking it’s fun to run 10 miles on a Saturday morning people. I love those people. I am just not one of them.
  • I am very much a goal-driven person. I came in at 81 minutes, three minutes under the goal I set for myself. Not anything to write home about, but not too shabby either. I can handle it.
  • It really does give you an adrenaline boost when people cheer for you. I’ve never done sports, so I’ve never really had anybody cheer for me in a setting like this one. I had a big goofy grin on my face half the race as random people cheered and gave us high-fives. I had an even bigger, goofier grin on my face when my dear friend Krissy and her family cheered for me when I walked into their house 10 hours after I actually finished the race :)

So, will I do the Bolder Boulder again? I honestly have no idea. I wouldn’t mind it. I’d love to keep up the work outs, do some 5ks, and work up to being able to jog a whole 10k. I don’t know yet if that’s realistic or not, but it would be a nice goal to work toward.

But I did have fun. Which makes me feel like some kind of aliens have invaded my body. Because? Running? Fun? It’s like I don’t even know who I am anymore.

I’m an accident waiting to happen…

Posted by Brandy – August 26, 2007

So, this is what happens when you go hiking with me.

Hiking Mishap

See, it’s exercise AND live entertainment. I should totally start charging for this stuff.

They had to go and ruin it…

Posted by Brandy – August 9, 2007

Okay, so the Callicotts spend weeks bashing me on their blog. And just when I get warmed up, they have to go and bust out the nice blog. Now what do I do?

In all honesty, having the Callicotts as my house guests made for a wonderful week. It’s fun sharing my life with my friends–especially friends who seem genuinely interested and excited.

People sometimes ask me if I miss Hannibal. And to be honest, I don’t really. I had served my time lived there for three years, and I felt like God was moving me elsewhere. But I do, without a doubt, miss my friends–and the Callicotts are definitely on the list of those friends I miss the most. I can’t tell you how many times I sat in their basement and laughed so hard that I started making those weird gasping/choking noises. And people who love you after seeing that are your real friends.

There’s nothing like being adopted into a family when your own loved ones are hours away. The Callicotts are definitely my family–you know, like those weird cousins who you love in that embarrassed, pretend-like-you-don’t-know-them-when-you’re-in-public kind of way.

Or something like that ;-)

Filthy Lies…

Posted by Brandy – August 9, 2007

So, a few blogs ago, I responded to Scott and Tammy’s slanderous comments about me. The filthy lies have continued on their website, so I’m here to defend myself again.

  • I was never actually LOST at Garden of the Gods. I took us on the scenic route. Why does everyone always have to be in such a rush? So, the Callicotts maybe weren’t used to the lack of oxygen. Boo hoo. I was taking them to one of the most beautiful spots of Colorado. You’d think they would be thankful.
  • I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Not every town is as small as Hannibal. Some towns actually have stoplights and intersections. It’s amazing. So yes, it did take me a while to get to Target. But I was NOT lost. It’s a long trip. Wah wah wah. Get over it Callicotts.
  • Oh, and for someone who gets “lost” all the time, I would venture to ask, who is the one who found the lost Callicott child at Focus on the Family? What, I can’t hear you? Yeah, I thought so.

Slander

Posted by Brandy – July 30, 2007

Okay, I have to defend myself against the slanderous comments made over on Scott and Tammy’s blog. And to think, I opened my home to these people. And I know their recollections are only going to get worse.

Although, it’s not all slanderous. They did call me a gracious host, and a great friend. Oh, and an uptown writer. Whatever that means.

But they are blowing the whole getting lost thing COMPLETELY out of proportion. First of all, Colorado Springs is a lot larger than Hannibal, Missouri. A trip across town in Hannibal takes five minutes. Sometimes, it takes me five minutes to turn left out of my apartment complex. So the trip to dinner was long. And we did go the long way down a street with lots of stoplights. And Tammy may have thought that a hotel was the Olympics complex. But we got there, safely. And ate yummy pizza.

So, I thought I could get us home quicker by taking the interstate. So I said, drive towards the mountain, and then take a right. That’s all the directions you need in Colorado. We’re outdoorsy people. Living off the land. We don’t need your stinkin’ GPS systems. If you run into the mountain, you’ve gone too far west. It’s that easy.

And it’s NOT my fault that there was some kind of insane back-up on the interstate. And I was never lost. I knew where I was. I knew where I wanted to go. The in between part was a little fuzzy.

And the part of town we were in wasn’t THAT bad. There weren’t any hookers or anything. And just because someone looks like they’re from Deliverance doesn’t mean they are. SOME people just judge too quickly.

We made it home. What more do you people want from me?

Dappled path Hot Dusty Pound Keep Moving Breathe…

Posted by bcgal80 – July 2, 2007

Dappled path
Hot
Dusty
Pound

Keep Moving

Breathe deep
Sage
Pine
Dirt

Keep Moving

Climbing up
Rocks
Strain
Sweat

Keep Moving

Finally the view
Beauty
Majesty
Awe

Keep Looking

My deep dark secret…

Posted by bcgal80 – February 17, 2007

I hate to exercise. There, I said it. I may now get deported from Colorado.

But I really do hate exercising. I hate running on a treadmill for an hour, and never changing my actual location. I hate that most gyms have a huge wall of mirrors. What, is that supposed to encourage me? To watch myself turn all red in the face and jiggle in all the wrong places?

Of course, exercising outside is better. But with the 8 billion feet of snow we’ve had, that just hasn’t been possible. And when it has warmed up, I’ve either been sitting in my cube at work, or have had other plans that can’t be broken.

But today, I had some free time. So I decided to exercise. And you know what, it was great. When I started, I could feel the muscles in hips tightening, straining with each step. My knees protested-but it was a weak protest, like children who protest against something everyone knows they will end up liking. When I stomped the heavy mud off of my shoes, the nerves in my legs tingled. It was like my body was waking up from a long hibernation, testing the waters, and deciding that, yes, I do still know how to walk.

Maybe Colorado won’t deport me after-all.

Home is…where?

Posted by bcgal80 – January 3, 2007

I still don’t know what to call home. When I left Denver for Virginia, I said I was going home. When I tearfully left Virginia for Colorado, I said I was going home. I don’t even know what home is anymore exactly.

It’s always hard for me to leave Virginia and head back to whereever I happen to be living at the moment. Virginia is comfortable to me. I know what to expect. I know that I’ll eat tons of vegetables cooked in heavy pots with ham or bacon. I know that I’ll yell at our dog as he tries to place his muddy paws on my jeans. I know that my mom and I will sit on the couch, my feet in her lap, watching a movie, each of us covered in hand-made afghans. I know that women with white hair and wrinkled cheeks will grasp my hand as I help them down the stairs at church. I know that my arguments with my brother will somehow always end in laughter. I know.

But I also know that small town in rural Virginia is not the place for me right now. There’s no room for me to stretch, to grow. The things I need from life right now, I can’t get there. I know that.

So, Monday evening I watched the sun set on a bright red horizon somewhere over Missouri. And I flew home.