Last One Before Race Day

Tick Tock goes the clock...

5 1/2 days.

140 hours.

and then the big 26.2.

It's almost here! Remember that one time I won a Marathon bid and I was like "Oh I have plenty of time."

That was over 6 months ago. Actually it was 230 days ago to be exact.

And here it is! I leave for NYC to meet my mom and grandmothers for what will probably be the most excruciating painful/moving/inspiring/goshdarnit moment of my entire life on Wednesday and then I do the thing on Sunday and it could very well beat many big milestones to come...or I might die.

I'm running a marathon. THE New York City Marathon. The Marathon of all flipping marathons...

Kind of how this week just crept up on me...oh look, it's here.

I am so nervous I could puke. I'm running a little everyday and I keep thinking there's no way can I do this. No way. I didn't run the 20 miler like I was supposed to. I ate cake and candy on my birthday, I had fun and stayed out on a Friday night past my bed time, I played kickball and ended up kind of hurting my knee like 2 weeks ago, I'm trying to be a high school basketball ref and that has taken time from my training, my job has me stressed out...I'm finding every possible excuse I can to validate myself if I fail. Because I'm human. And I'm scared.

But I raised (with the help of many many wonderful friends and family) over $3000 for a great cause. I can't let any of those amazing kids or you guys down.If they can battle cancer, I can do this.

I was feeling extremely overwhelmed a few days ago so I called my dad. He told me what I have always heard him say to me before every softball game, basketball tournament, job interview, final exam...
"Mind over matter, Shorty. You have to tell the negative voices to shut up on that day. You need to remember all of the people who are proud as hell of you and that you can and you will do this. Mind over matter."

And he's right. I do so much better knowing that no matter the outcome, I'll be ok. The sun will still rise in the east, and set in the west. I will still have my friends and family. The money still goes to the kids. I still made a difference. I did a really good thing. And not just for the blog.

I'll admit it's not just nerves, I am full blown scared. I'm running alone. Sure there might be strangers around me, but I always feel the most alone surrounded by people...so that's good. For 6 hours I'll be by myself, quiet, with my own thoughts. And my own thoughts aren't nice. They tell me to quit. To just stop. That I can't.

My half marathon didn't go so great. I did really well the first 8 miles. I was on pace, I had timed out when I needed water, and when I would need some Gu (some paste thing that's compacted with calories and electrolytes for runners. it tastes and looks like goo, hence the name) The last 5, sucked. I was running alone - most spectators had moved on, and no one was running  around me. I had a pack of maybe 4 runners ahead of me that I could see but they were too far for me to really grab on to that energy to keep up. I slowed way down. Like way, way, wayyyyy down. I walked. I cramped up. I even stopped to stretch and tie my shoes. And I was disappointed with myself at the finish line. I knew I could do better. But I had prevented myself from reaching that goal because I got into my own head. The negative voices took over. I got down on myself and was never able to get back up.

I know that it won't be like that next Sunday. There are over 10,000 people and I was told by past runners that you're never alone - there's always someone near you at all times. As my hometown only has about 6,000 people, I can't really fathom that amount. What does 10,000 runners look like?? But they were all positive, chipper people who probably enjoy running more than 3 miles and probably like talking to strangers. Yeah...no...socially inept is more my thing.

Chipper people...the worst.

So here is my plea to all of you reading this for a favor. It doesn't cost anything, I promise.

-Send some encouragement/good vibes my way. Help me keep the voices at bay - send a quick facebook post of encouragement, a text message, a favorite quote...heck, even 1 smiley faced emoji would make me smile and that might help me jog and not limp another mile. You can download the TCS NYC Marathon App and once I find out my bib number, you can follow me throughout the race at the various check points that I'll pass through. Download it and then tell me you "saw" me at mile X or Y and that you care. I'll have my phone on, and maybe even give you a call. I got 6 hours to kill, and I don't know if my playlist will keep me going for 6 hours. (It's at 4 hours right now but some songs are meh...just filler space) Don't judge my pace time - when you run a marathon, we can talk about how I'm slower than a turtle in molasses but NOT a moment sooner.

I know you do care. You all invested in this journey with me 230 days ago since you're reading this now as that's all I have talked about. But I don't like to say I need help. But I do. I have to ask for a little help.

I'm going to finish this marathon. I have ran for the past 230 days and have hit over 200 training miles in the process and you've been there every step of the way. It would just be really great if you could all cheer me on for the last, and  most important 26.2 miles.

I got this. Maybe. Yes, I do. We'll see. Yeah, no, I got this, I got this.

The next time you'll hear from me will be post-marathon. *insert internally screaming here*

To be continued!!

Marathon Training Update

Hello from Syracuse, New York!

I'm currently eating my carb loaded spaghetti and meatball dinner with a side of banana (for potassium) and half water/half powerade (for electrolytes and hydration) watching Sherlock Holmes alone in this hotel patiently waiting for in 12 hours I'll be waiting with about 1,000 other people for the gun to go off and then to run 13.1 miles.

I paid for this race. I paid for this hotel room. I paid to get here. I could be out having a beer but apparently me and 1,000 others are completely BONKERS and wanted to go run instead.

How every single non-runner sees us. Including me.

It's for my marathon training - I'm exactly 3 weeks from the Marathon and this will be a good way to train. Or so my online trainer says. I'm 'supposed' to work on my pacing - to not start too fast and to learn when my body might need pee breaks/water breaks/walk breaks/good lord wtf am I doing breaks/call the ambulance right now breaks. I know. I'm currently thinking about how I could be home right now but here I am.

I want to work on my timing and my ability to calm myself down when I hit that "runner's wall" or whatever. The runner's high doesn't actually last the entire marathon for most - it goes away and some people get it back but I can tell that won't be me. I'm going to lose it around mile 5. Oh yay. Only 21 miles of pure agony.

While this isn't my first half marathon it is my first big race by myself. I'm not with other friends and I had to register, get the hotel, and now mentally prepare.

Mentally preparing is the worst. Typical scenario - woo, yay, excited, we're here, in the hotel on a mini vacation. I got my outfit planned out. I have my Gu (basically food like product that is literally gooey and slightly disgusting but it gives you some much needed calories and energy while running without stoping to eat a burger) and my socks and shoes and a playlist ready.

How most runners look. Happy. Smiling. So goddang photogenic.

But while that's all fine, I somehow ALWAYS forget the pain right around mile 5 and how desperately I want to just end and die right there.

How I look running. Just. No.

This time though...I've trained a lot more. I've ran more than 5 miles more than anyone should ever run and while I still hit the dreaded number 5 with a lot of sweat and groaning...I'm hoping I can get through that mile a lot faster this time around.

I'm also nervous at what to do at the end. I won't have anyone to run to, no one to high five or at least hug because good lord your body just went through a traumatic event and a hug is kinda like the pity prize. But here's to new experiences and learning to be ok with being alone. Even during a half marathon.

I know my body pretty well and I know I'm not going to be fast - I had a rough 2 weeks with that flag tournament and the stress took a toll and not in a good way. But I'm hoping that I can shave some time off my old time of 2 hours and 50 minutes and get around 2:40/2:30. Because that means I can finish the marathon in 5 hours (Oprah did it in 4.5 so I'm giving myself a little more time but not much more...).

So here's to that delicious spaghetti and banana and an early bed time (hello Advil PM). Wish me luck! Here's to one step closer to that marathon! (Internally screaming) It's all going to be great!

See you at the finish line!

Post Number 101

Cross out Dalmatians and add Blog. No wait, leave Dalmatians, that's one of my favorite movies!

You lucky dog, you. You're reading my 101st blog post! If you've read all 101, you're either a)obsessed with me or b)my mother or c) just bored and have nothing better to do, but I thank you anyway! And hope that I can give you lots to laugh and shake your head at for many more blog posts to come!

What else to talk about than my crazy work-filled/marathon training/mishap life?!? 

First- This last weekend UAlbany IM's put on a Flag Football Officials' Clinic and Tournament for NIRSA. And yours truly was the Tournament Host/Director/NOT AT ALL QUALIFIED BUT SURE I GOT THIS THING person in charge.

Internally screaming Noooo for the love of God nooooo!

Let's take a stroll down memory lane shall we? Yes, let's. 

-Less than 3 years ago I went to my first NIRSA Flag Football Tournament at Notre Dame in the Fall of 2013. And I was astounding by the intensity, the level of knowledge the other clinicians had and I was frigid. Like frozen to the bone the entire time. I wrote about it in my blog and talked about how amazed I was and that I definitely felt like a baby dolphin in a sea of sharks. One of these is not like the others...and she's way out of her league, that's me!

Just add about 3 inches of snow, wind at 30 mph and picture me shivering to death trying to keep score and that was what Notre Dame looked like.

Now, fast forward to September 30th, 2016. And there I was setting up fields and hotels, and working out every last detail that we had already scoured over for the past 9 months preparing for this endeavor. 

We had 5 teams (barely, thanks to Boston for bringing some kiddos to combine with my kiddos to make a semi-legit team) 30 officials, 12 clinicians (a few of whom that LITERALLY wrote the flag football rule book. Not joking or exaggerating in the slightest either-cross my heart) 6 student staff members at any given time, not enough pizza (apparently when feeding 50 officials it's actually like feeding 75) a social that I'm fairly certain the wait staff have black listed us from returning (no one got too rowdy but we definitely saw some regular patrons walk in and then walk right back out), a bit of a hotel debacle as the poor college kid got SUPER frustrated with my room list and said "whoever made this reservation is a FREAKING GENIUS" and then I walked up and said, Hello, I'm Marissa and I'm your freaking genius. That shut him up. We also had one Field hockey Ref that got upset that our whistles for the tournament would interrupt the UAlbany Field Hockey game vs. Maine and made us move fields (still bitter. Very bitter. Not going to lie, I'll stay bitter probably forever, no offense Maine Field Hockey but I won't ever like you) AND we somehow managed to pull it off.

Freaking Field Hockey...Who actually plays this sport anyway??

All of the games were played. No one forfeited. All of the officials got to watch and learn and take back some solid knowledge and experiences that they can take back to their prospective campuses. We had a New York team win and move on to a Regional Tournament (like the one I went to at Notre Dame. See the theme here? We do lots of tournaments in rec sports) and I spent roughly 40 hours working this weekend (I got about 4 hours of sleep each night).

Marissa, MBA, Recreation Professional, AND Successful Tournament Host. Yes, I'll be adding that to my email signature. I don't care if I look braggadocious, I am freaking proud of myself and my team for doing what we did. 

My GA and the Supervisors worked their tales off. Did I mention that we had 5 other club soccer teams on campus for a round robin of games? Yeah. And that we still had IM Slow Pitch Softball to play? Yep. Count that too. I have a staff of 9 and needed 12...every single one of them did at least one shift. Many did much more. They put in major work and I'm getting them all donuts for tomorrow's morning supervisor meeting.

Even though I can't hide my emotions and everyone could tell my anxiety and stress levels were through the roof, I had a great time. I love it. I laughed with some other rec professionals that were there at Notre Dame 3 years ago when I was just getting started. I met others and was able to expand my network but also my friend list (more important, obvi). And I think everyone was impressed with our little program that we have at UAlbany. We do with what we have the best that we can. If that means using racquetball courts as a conference room, then so be it. If that means we have 3 undergrads, 1 GA and 1 clueless professional (me) lining fields hours before the first game would start because we had to wait for grounds keeping to finish mowing the grass then you can bet on us being out there, liners and fresh paint ready to go. (Those lines were actually kinda awful and not straight but who brings a protractor to work everyday...) 

Braggadocious is actually a real word. True story.

And I was once again, amazed by how great my staff did. They are a good bunch, and they work very hard. And I was complimented by others on how great they were. This isn't the first time it happened but I am that mother hen that is just beaming with pride over her little chicks. They're all growing up so fast! 12 months ago they were all little babies who had big, wide eyes and now they basically run the program without me (basically. If my boss reads this, I don't want to lose my job).

They have come a long way. And I'm excited for their future. If I can help them become contributing adults to society through IM Sports, then it was a good day in my book. Not all of them will go down the Rec Sports path, but I can only try and prepare them to adapt to whatever life throws them. Whether it's having to move fields at the last minute, or working on a budget proposal at a finance company, I hope they lean on what they learned under my direction. 

Even a few of them call me "Mom" and I fuss but secretly I like that they see me as someone they can not only joke with but always be there for them too.

So to those that are reading this and took part in the tournament and clinic (and my mother for listening to me vent about it for months prior, during and after) a huge round of applause and A Big Thank You All too! I brag that it was all me, but we all know that without the contributions from people like you, it wouldn't have been 1/2 the experience that it was. I'm humbled that you all would come out to little UAlbany and do what we do best - talk sports. 

I was going to talk about my marathon training and how I'm too competitive to actually be a runner because I HATE getting passed by other people on the trail... But I'm going to save it for later because it's almost my bed time and this girl is still trying to catch up on sleep. 

To be continued!

Beer League

Oh hello there!

So school has officially started and IM's are underway. We've got soccer, volleyball, and softball to start us off this Fall semester. Trainings have happened, officials got their shiny new whistles, clubs have started playing, and all is good in the IM/Club Sports world at UAlbany.

I say that and I'm so anxious that I'm gonna jinx it. So if everyone could just knock on some wood for me while you're reading this, thanks, that'd be great. (I'm legitimately superstitious. It's from my father and many many years of playing softball/watching baseball. I have routines, I have my lucky socks that have holes and soon won't look like socks but I refuse to get rid of them and I will wear them whenever I feel I need some extra luck until the day I die.) 

And my new apartment is great, all my furniture (bought new or at least new to me) fits and decorations are up and it's officially home. I love living on a busy street and I often fall asleep to the neighbors chit chatting on the stoops below my windows and the sound of cars and the city lightly buzzing. It's not NYC, so it's not super loud and this city does in fact sleep. But it's my city and when a friend came to visit I wanted to drive them all over and just keep pointing out all the little spots that were cool, or fun to look at and just exclaim "Welcome to MY city!" with each and every turn. They weren't down with that so we went to lunch instead.

This is Albany, NY from the east side of the Hudson River. That really tall sky scraper in the mid-left of the photo is about 2 blocks east from my apartment. So I'm kind of right on top of it all.

I'm also trying to branch out and get to know some more people. I have a friend from yoga and we've done lunch and moved up to pizza and movies, and then we went on a paddle boarding course where she watched me fall off the board just once but everyone else in the class managed to stay out of the water. Like you're supposed to. Go figure. But it was a blast and if I could fit a paddle board in my apartment, I'd go out and buy one today.

But I signed up for a City Kickball League. It's with a group that does multiple different sports throughout the year in the Capital region of New York. I figured, heck, sports are my job, I can go and meet people that are like me, they like sports, and they like playing sports. 

We're not quite cool enough for an actual field. It's just cones on grass, no lines. But that's the gist of it.

Game #1- weather cast says 103847234893527% chance of rain. It's coming, folks, just a matter of when. But I'm just a Free Agent on team "Off Constantly" (bad names must be a requirement for any organized sports program that is recreational in nature) and I don't know a single soul. Nada. No one. I got nothing, just an address for the field and a team name. Oh boy.

So awkward Marissa goes out to the field in her rain jacket (because weatherman Joe said it'd be silly to leave it at home) and tries to socialize with some young professionals. I hope you can literally feel the anxiety and the rush of blood rise to your cheeks as you can tell it's going to get real good and awkward from here-

Just try asking complete strangers that look like "cool kids", drinking beers, in their team shirts and laughing and all of them know who each other are, etc. "Hey, hi there, do you happen to know where team 'Off Constantly' is?" And they all stare and give you the shrug, "Sorry, nope."

Ok. Yeah. That went well. I think they like me. Yeah. I can make friends. It's fine. I'm fine. I can do this. Shouldn't be so hard.

Try that two more times to FINALLY find the team "Off Constantly". And apparently I'm not the only free agent. It's like they put all the rag tag we-don't-have-any-friends people together on one team and that's us. Rag tag, worse than The Bad News Bears, The Little Giants, and definitely would get slaughtered by the kids from Sandlot.

Just give everyone a beer, age them about 15-20 years and that's my team. Not kidding, grumpy guy(he's the guy who didn't want to play in the rain) and all. 

So we go out, manage to scrap up a line up and an awkward, do you wanna pitch? No? Ok, I'll pitch..? exchange. We're 3 batters(? kickers? what are they?) in and boom the skies open up and it is pouring rain. I mean sheets of rain. I can't see the giant red kickball it's coming down. But it's warm and we play on. I slip (didn't want to seem like that really intense girl with cleats on the first night) a few times but we all are soaked and slipping and laughing. We ended up losing a lot to a little but,

IT WAS SO MUCH FUN!

I could ring out my shirt and shorts with water but I'm running around trying to throw a kickball and slipping in the grass and laughing with complete strangers and trying to cheer them on and getting beer handed to me left and right.

There aren't real officials, you're not supposed to drink on the field but no one follows that rule, we played even though there was lightening in the distance (it was just once and then not again for all you IM/Risk Management freaks like me) and it's like the Anti-Intramural League but it was pretty great.

And I play again tomorrow! And this time I'll know who my team is! And I'm not telling them that I actually do this for a living because I definitely never got on base and probably never will. (I just can't get the ball out of the infield. Even when I kick it to third, the pitcher some how ends up catching it. It's impossible to kick it that hard for me...my strategy next time is to bunt even though I can hear my old softball coach groaning in my head)

I'm so excited and so glad I gave it a try. I play with accountants, science engineers, teachers and some I don't know what they do but I don't really care as long as we all like playing and having a good time. It's like I'm back in Davis, playing IM's only know the official on the field has a red solo cup in hand, they're all sporting facial hair and closer to 30 than they are to being 20 and they're missing calls that my 12 year old nephew can call from the stands.

So I guess it actually is just like IM Sports...LOL. 

To Be Continued!

My attempt at a Vlog...

So the file was too large to upload on here...but here's a link to my Encourage Kids Foundation for you to donate and help me get to my goal of $3000 to support terminally ill children and their families in the greater New York State area. Yeah! Do it! Make a difference! And have my ever lasting love in return!! :) 

https://www.crowdrise.com/encouragekidsnyc2016/fundraiser/marissaallen

And here's a link to the facebook page with said video. : ) Thanks and see y'all later!

https://www.facebook.com/marissa.allen.73/posts/1241109809254427?notif_t=like&notif_id=1471794852090293

-To be continued!

A little bit of everything and a whole lot of nothing

I officially just surpassed the 100 days til the marathon mark.

Holy cannoli, dear Mother of Pearl, when did that happen?

So you can say I'm a little nervous. And behind on my training. Oops.

I'm running. I'm just not running super long distances like I probably (most definitely) should be. I woke up on Saturday and said "LOL no" to the reminder on my phone saying I needed to run 12 miles and rolled over and snuggled my pillow. Team no regrets right here.

But I ran 3 on Sunday to make up for it. Kinda. More like ran 1.5 and limped the other 1.5.

But to be perfectly fair I have had a crazy summer...I went on two quick trips and had friends visit at the end of June/beginning of July. And moved. To an apartment with no AC. On the top floor. And it was 90 degrees and humiddddd for a solid month. (What the hell upstate New York? It wasn't as bad as Southern Illinois but this chic acclimated and it was rough during the nights. The day I can handle, I've got some hot Cali blood still and didn't mind it most days. But at night...let's just say that I fell asleep at my desk not once but a few times. Bosses really like that. You should try it.)  And then had to buy not one but two window units because sleep was becoming a far off distant dream it was so hot.

Try running on little to no sleep and when it's so humid you just walk to the corner and you look like you ran 4 miles already.

I'm such a fair weather runner it's stupid. Rain? Meh, tomorrow. 90+ degrees? Umm..tomorrow again?

I counted walking up and down my three flights of stairs hauling my crap from one apartment to the next as my cardio. #teamnotreadyforamarathonbutherewego

 Moving sucks.

It'll be alright though because the forcast says around 80 for the next 10 days and I have finally gotten more than 2 nights of consecutive good sleep in a row (it's the little things) AND I'm getting that creeping stressed out feeling and it's going to just get crazier and more hectic from here - which running helps keep at bay.

But this summer though, minus the looming disaster that this marathon could be, was really, quite amazing. I got to go back to California and visit my family for my dad's birthday. I went to Lake George and got some much needed lake and pool time (downside of living downtown Albany, no AC and no pools). My dear friends from Illinois came out and visited me in Albany. We had a blast and it was so great to be with them again. And then I met UC Davis friends in New Orleans for one of the best trips (minus horrendous flight issues) I have literally ever taken.

Best Friends 4 evah evah. But I hate airports and especially you, United Airlines.

And I've officially made it a year and 1 month here in Albany, New York.

Yep. 13 months. Whoa.

The real MVP.

I'd like to say it was rainbows and unicorns throughout but come on now. Not even close. I am doing well. And I do like it here. I've got some hobbies outside of work and I'm on a little routine that works. Met new friends in and out of work. Life is good.

And I'm dating...or trying dating ...I'm basically casually texting/not texting, meeting people for lunch/random hours for coffee/etc.

Boy, oh boy, what a time to be alive. Gag.
Dating is rough, dudes. Let me explain it for y'all...

But actually the outfit choosing part sucks the most.

Dating in 2016 consists of -

-dating apps
-scary profiles
-catfished or catfishing
-unlimited text messaging
-really obscure emojis and text speak (u, ttyl, lol...etc)
-playing 20 questions
-swiping left
-no last names
-not responding to lame pick up lines
-texting only, absolutely no calling
-still no calling
-texting and no meeting in person
-swiping right

Elaine knows what's really up.

-finally agreeing to meet
-telling all your girl friends that you're meeting in person and giving a window of time before they call the cops or call for that fake emergency to get you out (guilty)
-texting your bestie "SOS"
-said bestie calls you with real tears and a car that won't start and you have to save the day (even though she actually lives in another state)
-guys who bring you coffee at 7pm for a date in the park
-guys who bring their friend's puppies
-guys who take you to really bad restaurants
-wait staff who give you "Oh honey, first date?"polite smiles/grimaces
-several really just ok first dates
-ghosting
-extremely few second dates
-really bad second dates
-dodging kiss advances better than Nemo in The Matrix
-repeating your story over and over again you start to say it in your sleep
-changing up your story just cuz  (my dream job is to be a yoga teacher in the Tiebetan mountains)
-drinking lots of wine while you tell all your friends about your terrible experiences

Word, homie.

For all of my married/tied up friends out there...look at your spouse or SO right now and say "Well gosh, *insert name here*, we are so FREAKING lucky!"

And I will continue to date and fail at relationship-ing for y'all's enjoyment. You're FREAKING welcome.

No, no, don't worry.
I'll take the heat and you just sit there and feed each other grapes or do whatever, weird, gross couples do.
Because that's what friends are for.

It's not a walk in the park (unless that's what the date consists of...) but it is what it is.

So far, I'm batting 0 for 4. (probably more but I'm only going with ones I've actually met) I'm stuck in the minor leagues but I'm hopeful. Luckily though, I have yet to experience anyone who "forgot" their wallet (looking at you, Canadians) again. And I only had one friend text me and then call me (I didn't answer, just said 'See look that's her, got to go!') per my request. I did hit it off with a guy and we spent our first date playing games at Dave and Buster's and hanging out for 7 HOURS only to never hear from him again. Seriously, such a fun date but I guess he was more upset than he let on that I beat him in ski ball. Loser.
Another kept saying I was the prettiest girl he's ever been with. Flattering, yes. So thank you but I've only known you for 12 minutes, I'm not WITH anyone, let alone you, dude. And then said it's because he always wanted to date a blonde, have a trophy girlfriend. Ok. We're done. Check please? Upon further review, I'm fairly certain he said that to all of the girls he met. 20 yard penalty. Do not pass go. Next. I'm good. See ya, never.
I've also met some and had no sparks but was willing to give it a chance. And then the second date doesn't go so well. Ok conversation but just like, meh. Not something that I want to spend time pursuing.

0 for 4 with about 2 dozen strictly texting dates(what the heck do I even call those people who we talk and we get to know each other but then never meet??).

Yes, sometimes I think being heterosexual is my curse and my blessing. No, I'm not giving up on men just yet. 

But one thing I have learned through this process is that I'm getting really good at being alone. And alone doesn't equal lonely. I can go to a bar and wait for a date and not feel awkward while I wait. Or I can go to a concert or festival by myself and not worry about not having someone with me. I could walk into a restaurant and say party of one and I can sit there and eat. I'll probably sit at the bar but I think I'd be alright. I'm really ok with adventuring out on my own. And that's a skill that takes time and I've realized that not everyone can be on their own and not just crumble. It took me 13 months but I'm getting there.
I would just like to find someone who I can be alone with. If that makes sense. We can do things together but are completely more than ok with being apart too. And silence that isn't awkward because silence is really golden.

Cheers to more dates, texts, and wondering if someone is "spongeworthy". And to being comfortable alone. And to that ever looming marathon training. Gag.

To be continued!

Started From The Bottom...

And now we're here!!

Today is the last day of school at UAlbany and concludes my first school year as a "professional" (very loose term) staff.

Wow. One year down.

Holy moly, how in the world did that happen?? Wasn't it like, just yesterday that I was crying on my way to work every day because I didn't want to respond to more hate emails/tweets and about why I'm making changes for the better but no one else seemed to think so and I was so cripplingly lonely that I'd go out and work 9am to 9pm because I didn't have anything else to do and that I felt like a failure because our numbers weren't up like I hoped and club paperwork was like running myself into the ground because it was a brand new system and no one, I mean not even the chic who audited us knew how or why or even WHAT THE HECK we should be doing when it came to clubs...(that was a fun day).

But guess what?! I made it! Let me correct myself, WE made it. Myself, my GA, my Program Assistant (that man is a god-send because he can whip out a budget on excel faster than you can say "I need you to make a new spreadsheet, please".) and all of our new supervisors, officials, club sport officers and obvi, the participants.

And we did a freaking awesome job.

Our final numbers were way up too! We had the biggest class of freshman ever play IM's which hopefully means we have them for all 4 years (or more). We had less total games (due to 4 week seasons and not 10 week seasons) but lots of people played 2 or more sports. We almost doubled the number of girl participants (yay! girl power! girls run the world!). We had official trainings and more trainings and evals and then sent 1 official to a regional tournament for the first time EVER in UAlbany history of IM's.

And on the club sport side...one club cough*icehockey*cough almost was given the boot (some hazing/underage drinking/death threats from one player to others.....what a great first month on the job) BUT was given a gracious second chance and flipping made the most of it. We found a coach, did a ton fundraising and are definitely in a way better position going into the next year.

I fought for and won several appeals to the Student Government (where all the clubs get their $$$) for various clubs to get additional funding for a total of about $25,000.00. Boom, my MBA coming at ya real hard there. But all that time and energy spent in the  Student Gov. Office was absolutely worth it because when we went for budgets this year, instead of being cut like we had been warned Club Sports came away with actually more money overall. Not 1, not 2, but 6 of the clubs made it to National Tournaments and 10 made it to at least a post season. Not bad for only 23 total clubs.

Not bad for year #1

There were a lot of downs too. I had to fire some employees. Good employees and some not so good employees too. I had to hold my ground on my policies and tell a full team of seniors sorry, you broke the rules, you don't get into playoffs, and it was rough because I remember my senior year and how I loved playing and to stop on a technicality would have SUCKED. Lots of mistakes too. Simple mistakes, and big mistakes, I did them all. No mistake was left unmade.

I had pretty good come to Jesus moments with my GA too. He's young and excited but very very inexperienced. Which is ok, I'm still learning on how to be a mentor so that changes for him. We aren't there yet. Not even close. But we survived and came out relatively unscathed.

Team work makes the dream work

All of these little things build up to one big thing that I have once again, learned time and time again. Anything is possible if you care. Start caring about other people, actually give a crap. No, really, put in some effort because you genuinely want to and people, even students, will GENUINELY care about you back. Care about the secretary who makes sure your check requests get turned in on time. Care about the janitor that vacuums the crumbs under your desk. Learn the names and the majors of your student employees so when you ask how their midterms are going and if they would like to take off early to go study and that you got this last hour of Flag Football, they smile and say thank you but then work 10x harder because they want to, not because they have to. Or just have an open door and let them come to you and vent and be a good listener.

My boss really was the one who showed me that. I have had some great bosses and mentors. But Greg, as we'll call him, does this for me. I had a lot of problems handed to me this year outside of work too. I was diagnosed with an aggressive case of PCOS shortly upon arriving and I was in and out of the doctor's office and getting blood drawn every 3 weeks from November to March and he was extremely understanding through it all. He even let me break down in his office because I had just found out from a phone call from my doctor and was rattled and worried and in shock. He just sat there and listened and gave me a tissue and told me that I needed to get on the University's insurance program for employees ASAP because it's an amazing benefit (I'm only 24 so was still on my parents' insurance) and it would save me and my parents a lot of money. And that I didn't have to take vacation time for the days I had to spend hours in the blood lab waiting for different medicines and hormones to go through my system before taking more blood for more tests or getting sent all over the city for this specialist and that pharmacy, etc. etc.
And then once I finally got good news from my doctor that after 5 months of taking 7 different pills a day, I'm on the mend, a dear family friend, more like a grandfather than a friend, passed away. It was right before we all left for the conferences of all conferences in Florida. But he told me that I could leave and try to get home and to not worry about the hundreds and hundreds of dollars that would be wasted by me not attending the conference (no refunds). Not many bosses would have been so considerate, especially for someone who isn't even blood related. I chose to not go because of several reasons but the notion my boss was completely ok with whatever decision I made was all that mattered.
And he's my number one supporter (after my mom) for my marathon. He thinks it's a pretty great thing to be doing and asks me everyday if I ran, how I'm feeling, how he's going to drive next to me and shout along the full 20 miles I'm supposedly running (not there yet in my training). But it definitely helps having someone to hold you accountable because I can't lie to him and say "oh yeah, I ran" when I didn't as he would totally know and probably make me go out and run on the spot.

Thanks boss. You're the real MVP.

Claps to you, Greg.

While I am happy the year is over and excited for things to slow down just a tad bit, I am going to miss my students. We had a great end of the year banquet for all the Campus Rec student staff. It wasn't mandatory to go, but free food and awards were to be given out. I had over half of all my staff show up. I'm taking it as they really wanted to come because they like their job and not just for the free food. And we had our own little IM/Club Sport party and we gave out silly paper plate awards, ate pizza (on me) and played kickball. I got out there and played (duh. I'm not above playing with my staff) and we picked teams like you do on the play ground and I wasn't picked last, but I think that's because they wanted to keep their job haha. And most of them plan on coming back and working in the Fall. Which is great, as that's the point of building a program. Finding kids who'll stick around and help you build it further.

I am losing a few good seniors though, who I'll miss a lot. They really bought into the change and dove head first into the different policies, rules and duties I threw at them, and had they not, I can honestly say that our program would not be nearly as successful as it is and will be.

The theme for this year was try not to hold on what is gone, do right what is wrong and just gotta keep on keeping on. Yes, I stole this from a song but it's very fitting. So in typical Marissa fashion, I'll leave it here for now. Thanks for reading. :)

For those of you who thought it's from Joe Dirt...sure. Go with that.

To be continued.

Gone but Not Forgotten

Hey friends. Thanks for checking in, I'm doing well, and I hope to start blogging again real soon. I have a post that was sitting in my drafts about the craziness of the holidays, (oops) so feel free to check that out.

As much as I want to talk about how things are going well, and that I got back from the NIRSA annual conference that was awesome and fun and how looking back over these past 9 months (9 months exactly tomorrow) so much has changed, I wanted to take the time to talk about something else.

About a very special someone in my life who maybe didn't receive enough credit or appreciation. And he unfortunately, has left this world and passed on, and I miss him dearly. I wish I could say these things to him, but I know it's too late. My only solace is thinking that he does know how much I care, how much my family truly loved and cherished him, and that I am ever so thankful for the time we did get to share.

Growing up, I had a grandfather who loved us grandkids very much. He would get up early and bring us donuts and would sing in the long car rides together. He taught me how to spell my first curse word and then would encourage me on to stand up at the dinner table and spell it for everyone to show how great of a speller I became. He passed on to me his sarcastic and corny jokes, and his incredibly quick wit. But he passed away when I was 13. Fast forward a few years and my Nana introduced us to a new man in her life. They weren't 'dating' and we often didn't know what to call him, except "Jack, just Jack". They were travel partners and companions. Do you really call an 80 year old man, your grandmother's boyfriend? I couldn't. I was miffed I didn't have a boyfriend yet in high school so that was never going to happen. So Jack became 'Just Jack' to me.

Jack would be with my Nana and they would travel to far off lands like Brazil and Norway and bring us back little tokens and trinkets from their travels. Jack was a 2 star Army General and always had some very surreal but amazing stories from his time spent in the army. I went to college only about an hour away from he and Nana, so it wouldn't be unusual for them to stop for lunch or to invite me over. It was at one of these luncheons with Jack and Nana (we coined them always together, since they were) that he and I got into a very lengthy and interesting (to probably no one else) conversation about Walt Whitman, Ernest Hemingway and other great dead writers. I was writing a paper on the subject and I'd be lying if I told you most of that essay were ideas and observations made by Jack. He recited Oh Captain, My Captain by heart at that restaurant in Davis, California and we became quick friends.

Jack was great at remembering my birthday and gave me a lovely stationary set when I turned 19. I sent him a thank you using the stationary, and I guess he was so pleased that it was a good gift he told my Nana that he wanted to send me a thank you card for the thank you I sent him. I used up that stationary that had my name embroidered beautifully in navy blue and gold (UCDavis colors) when applying to jobs, that I regret not keeping one piece just to serve as a reminder of him. He always knew and was genuinely interested when I talked about finding a job in recreation, and he even suggested that I look into living on the east coast. Specifically University of West Virginia, his alma mater but he's entitled to be a little biased. Upon graduating from UCDavis, he gave me one of the greatest gifts I could ever ask to receive. He invited me and only me to stay with him and my Nana in Paris, in his time share. It was one of the greatest trips of my life.

Jack spent a considerable amount of time in Paris while in the army and had fallen in love with the city and the people. Every year he would return in the summer for months and weeks at a time. So this was a pretty big deal that he was inviting me to go with them. My aunt and uncle learned of the invitation and then soon our party of 3 turned into a party of 5. I would join Jack and Nana to eat breakfast at a cafe and then go to the museums and landmarks, shuffling from cabs and listening to Jack tell his grand stories and interpret French for us, all the while being the most gentlemanly of hosts one could be. He paid for everything, always took a cab and always asked to make sure I saw all of Paris that I wanted to see. In the afternoons we would all lunch together, Jack and Nana, aunt and uncle, and me. Then as Jack and Nana went back to the apartment, I would be handed off to the other couple and we would walk about the city with no French speakers among us and no real destination, just exploring for the best foods the city could offer. I was 21 but was very much being the main concern in the planning of the days events...(Jack speaking with my aunt) - "Well, your mother and I are going to take Marissa to the Louvre, and then we will meet you for lunch, can you be up and ready by 1pm?" "Well we wanted to check out the Latin Quarter, so could you drop off Marissa near the Arc d'Triomphe?" "That's a little out of the way, what about taking Marissa to Napoleon's Tomb and tomorrow we can do the Eiffel Tower and you can pick her up there..." etc. etc.

After about 4 days of this I told them that I would be exploring alone, and that I would meet them all back at the apartment for dinner. 

But the trip was wonderful and I came to cherish that time I got to spend with both him and my Nana as well as with my aunt and soon to be uncle. I got to spend each evening drinking Beefeater gin martinis with a twist of lemon, a twist of lemon (you had to say it to the waiter twice or else they would give you an olive, which he hated) and playing cards and laughing about his mishaps the first time he traveled to Paris. I still have the map and the key chain of the Eiffel tower that he got me while on that very trip. Just this past summer, my siblings and mom were able to travel with Jack and Nana to Paris, and recreate my grad trip.

Jack would come with us on multiple family trips from then on, including Hawaii, and my siblings and I got to spend much more time with him even as we all went our separate ways for school. While we never introduced him as our grandfather, he was every embodiment of the word to us. Holidays and other days of celebration all included him. We could joke and enjoy his company and he became a very integral part of the family.

Jack passed away on the morning of March 31st. I was preparing to go on a work trip that would take me to Florida during his funeral. After weighing my options and looking at flights and times and connections, it proved to be especially difficult and expensive to find a way to get all the way back to California in a very short amount of time. I almost bought the ticket though as I wanted to be there since I felt I hadn't shown him enough how we all truly loved him, how much he meant to me. And then I looked over at my Paris key chain and my Walt Whitman book and thought how Jack would chuckle in his own way and recite Oh Captain, My Captain. It might not make any sense, but it did for me. It was his way of saying he knew. And it was ok.
So I opted in not going. My brother wasn't able to attend either but the Allen family represented us well, and we can mourn and pay our respects in other ways. I made sure to have a Beefeater Gin martini (it was the last of the bottle, and the bartender said they don't typically carry it. Must have been meant to be) with a twist of lemon, a twist of lemon the night before his funeral and wished that if I could live half of the very full life that Jack had lived, than I would be pretty well off. The world lost maybe the most interesting, kindest and genuinely most caring man that day. But I am so thankful to have been apart of his life.

RIP Jack. We'll always have Paris.

To be continued. 

Rissa Returns Part 2

Howdy Y'all!!

Can you believe 2015 is almost over??? Gah, I better get to explaining the end of 2015 before 2016 gets here. I like to look back at mhy old posts and man oh man...I'm shocked at how time flies but also at how incredibly stupid I was/can be. Sheesh. But I am pretty darn funny. Kinda.

So back to Thanksgiving and Rissa returning to the great state of Texas.

I've been to Texas now three times and all three times has been to Dallas. For such a large state I should check out other cities but until Family or friends move there, Big Dallas will be the spot.

Last time I made my way out to Texas it was for the Annual Conference for NIRSA and I was looking for a job...and the time before that I was headed to spend Thanksgiving with the same aunt and uncle. Only then it was just me and them. And two dogs. That's it. The Lone Niece Thanksgiving of 2014 was my first trip to Texas. It can be a little odd to hang out with family when you aren't surrounded by more family or your immediate family but we became closer and we had a great time. One of my favorite times and great memories. 

This time however, I started a trend. My aunt invited her newphews, and her kids had moved back in with them while they figured out careers, school and started families of their own. 

So we had 1 aunt, 1 uncle, 3 nephews, 2 significant others of the nephews, 1 daughter, 1 son, 1 son-in-law, 1 grandbaby, 2 original dogs, 2 dogs owned by daughter and son-in-law, 1 dog owned by son, and 1 dog owned by a nephew and last but definite anything but lease, me, the original lone niece. If you can't do the math, I'll let you know...it was 11 adults, 1 infant and 6 dogs all under one roof.

Luckily it's a 2 story house with 3 bathrooms (thank god) or it would have been wayyy worse of a time. I should also explain that the nephews are not my cousins. I had never met them before, they're on the other side of the family. It was just me and the uncle to represent our side but they were pretty cool bunch. 3 brothers and their girlfriends and one of their dogs. We got to know each other and the whole week was pretty fun. Upon arriving, I got the chance to meet them all and we all spent the evening drinking wine (my aunt and uncle are big winos) chatting loudly, laughing over family memories, holding the new baby and drinking more wine (i'm not kidding, they really are big winos). 

Wine and baby Keenan. What more could you ask for?

We ate way too much food on Thanksgiving, but with 11 people, left overs are not a thing, they maybe had some left overs that lasted until later that night. We also played a game that's really not PC but super fun. 

It's called Secret Hitler, and it's a game kind of like Clue, where you try to figure out who the liberals and the facists are (facists are bad) and then try to kill off Hitler before he becomes Chancelor. It's actually really fun and we spent the time accusing family of being facist-sympathizers while shouting German obscenities and drinking a plethora of wine and beer. It probably was fairly historically accurate to what actually happened in Facist Germany. I got plastered as I haven't drank much since July and 3 glasses in I was telling everyone to call me Angela Merkel and explained how I was going to save pre-EU Germany from economic disaster and that they would all be idiots if they didn't vote for me in the Bundestag (the equivalent of the House in the US) and my international relations and poli-sci major finally had a purpose and I was nerding out real hard.

Friday we nursed some slight hangovers (ok I probably was the only one with a hangover, sue me) and went out to the Big D itself, Downtown Dallas. We went to probably the classiest bowling alley you will ever find, with gourmet food and legit cocktails and a craft beer selection to make the snobiest of beer enthusiasts drool. You went bowling, and then a staff waited on you so in between turns, instead of eating sketchy nachos and whatever is left in the cooler I had a Moscow Mule, some artisan bread and cheese dips (their version of a pretzel and nacho cheese) and someone else got 4 gourmet sliders that were not sliders but actual burgers but it's Texas so you know, that's small. 

Proof that I bowled over 100 for the first time in my 24 years of life. Going pro next week.

We brought baby Keenan with us and it was loud and more like a decently lit bar that everyone just happened to be wearing bowling shoes at, but he did great for an infant. I helped get him ready and let's just say that's about the best damn version of birth control ever. Not 3 seconds (I'm not even exaggerating a little bit) after I got him kicking and screaming into his clothes and jacket to go out, I picked him up and he not only spit up all over himself but me as well. Ok, kid. I know you don't know who the heck I am but you're going to need to learn real fast that Aunt Marissa is not to be spit up on. We probably had to change him 4 times and we were only out in public for maybe 2 hours. 

Lindz, I love your kiddo, but you can keep him. Taking a hard pass on the whole having kids deal for quite some time. A very hard pass. 

Outfit #2 of 4 that day. Little man is cute as a button but so. Much. Laundry.

But it was a very fun night and after bowling we found a place to sit and eat and drink (do you notice a theme here?) and chat. It was definitely what I needed. No job, no work, no home sick, just fun. 

Saturday, was go home day for most of the cousins, nephews and myself, so it was more or less spent just picking up, and then heading out. I didn't want to leave, to be honest. It felt really nice to be with family and people who care. And New York meant I'd go back to my very lonely schedule of work, gym, home, repeat. 

I think my aunt and uncle picked up on how much I was struggling at that moment. I hit just about 5 months on the East Coast and I was on the lower part of the roller coaster ride of ups and downs. My uncle and I had a good talk about the real world, and he told me about how learning the hard way is the only way but it'll be ok in the end. He talked about how he screwed up at first too. He and I are pretty darn similar, and we both have only just began to realize it. We like the same weird, alternative music that people look at us like we're trying to be Portland hipsters at a concert in the back of a dive bar, in plaid t-shirts and think-rimmed glasses, but then we show up in jeans, converse shoes, in a Mini Cooper and with an attitude of "I'll do what I want" (btw Trevor, Ch. 35 on SiriusXM is my new favorite satellite radio station. And yes, I ask for my parents to renew my subscription every year for Christmas. Check it out.) and have the same sense of sarcastic, everyone here is an idiot, humor (the title of Grand Master Master of the Universe title is up for grabs currently) and a tad too defensive for our own good, and a bit of weird idea that school is good and the more degrees we can get, why the heck not? He's sitting on 2 master's and a doctorate. Why? Because he wanted to advance his career but we both are big nerds. I got my MBA just because I knew it was going to advance me in a career. Which career, who knows. I would have preferred a poli-sci master's degree, and I have a subscription to not only the Times but Wall St. Journal too, my favorite TV shows deal with lawyers and Madame Secretary with her kicking some serious international relations a$$ and I'm like I so could do that (no not at all). I'm already looking at classes I can audit for free since I work at UAlbany. I dabble with the idea of teaching at the college level. But I'm only 5 months and 5 days into my current job so you know...patience. Also something my uncle and I lack. But it was a good life talk with him basically just saying I did it, so you can too. It made leaving a bit easier and got me excited for the future. 

What really got me was on Friday night as we were sitting all together in a little restaurant that was definitely more for the hipster Dallas locals, and after maybe a few drinks (more than a few, we promise we aren't alcoholics) I was talking with my aunt about my job and just everything. And I've mentioned it before but I'll say it again. If my emotional level isn't between a 3 and a 7, I'm crying. So I'm tearing up about being home and friend-sick. She gave me a hug and said, she was proud of me and that I was more of a daughter than a niece. Hit me right in the feels. I'm very lucky to have not just a good but a close relationship with them both. 

Ok, I'm pretty infatuated with the baby and I'm pretty happy he's around now. 

I went back to New York happy to be back actually. We finished up IM sports and Clubs for the semester and I don't feel the need to cry everyday on my drive in or sometimes on my drive home too because I have nothing to go home to and those tweets and letter's to the president really do get to me. (That was a very real time but none of my coworkers know so keep it on the DL) I'm not as miserable. And a few days after my thanksgiving vacation, my boss and I had a semester in review and he asked me what grade would I give myself for the time I had spent. I said a B, and that was honest. It's no where I want it to be yet but we're doing good things and I think it's headed in the right direction. He agreed and gave me an A-. He said that he didn't think that they could have picked a better person for the position if they had the chance to pick anyone and not just the ones who applied. That's pretty uplifting to hear your boss's boss say. I guess it's going a lot better than what they had planned on for the first semester. And we got some big plans for the next semester that I'm excited for, and others that are necessary but not as fun. 

All that's missing are the 6 dogs!

Still weird to think that I made it through my first semester. It felt like it dragged on and on but looking back it went by pretty fast too. Funny how that works.

To be continued.