Posts Tagged ‘philly’

At my five year high school reunion I got sloppy drunk and ended up making out with a guy PiC was trying to set me up with. I’m not proud of it, but I was 23 years old and acting like it.

Half a decade later I showed up to my ten year reunion, Husband in tow, Baby on board, and stone cold sober (obviously). And I have to say, this time around was much more enjoyable.


I saw the usual suspects (minus PiC, sadly, who got sick at the last minute), but I also chatted with some friends that I really haven’t kept in touch with at all.

One girl was also pregnant, so we swapped stories and watched the (slight) reunion debauchery while sipping our ginger ale.

Another girl is moving to Abu Dhabi soon for her husband’s job, so we all shared travel tales.

Guy friends that I thought would never grow up or settle down have done both, and are a good reminder that none of us are exactly the same people we were ten years ago.

The strangest surprise of the night, though, was entirely unexpected.

It wasn’t the girl who came up, hugged me, kissed my cheek, and loudly professed how happy she was to see me (even though we probably haven’t spoken since 1997).

It wasn’t JB who would randomly come up behind me and put her hands on my belly throughout the night.

It was, surprisingly enough, a work-related rumor. As I was chatting with N, one of those guys who I thought would never grow up, he mentioned it.

“So, you’re still in DC, right? And you work at The Heritage Foundation?”

“Yes, I’m still in DC, but, no, I work at The Office. But it’s strange – you’re the second person tonight who’s asked me about Heritage specifically.”

“Yeah, there’s a rumor going around that you work there, and I was surprised you worked at a conservative think tank. I’m glad to hear it’s not true!”

Maybe this doesn’t seem so odd, but it struck me for a few reasons:

1) Growing up (i.e. when most of these people knew me) I wasn’t especially political. And I definitely never talked politics enough to be labeled one way or the other.

2) Outside of DC and holiday dinners with family, I still rarely talk politics. And it’s not exactly a topic I anticipated at the reunion – however peripheral it may have been to the conversation.

3) It’s such an oddly specific rumor, and so easy to dispel via social networks. I always thought rumors should be vague if you want them to catch on – hard to verify, but easy to believe. (Not that I’ve thought about this before.)

In any case, I laughed about it with N and realized that if this is what’s going around, then even the rumor mill has matured over the past five years.

And that’s not a bad thing at all.

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I felt like a traitor

I went to my very first postseason game ever yesterday, and it wasn’t even for the Phillies.

Granted, that would have been hard to do, considering they were effectively eliminated months ago. (Though, officially, it’s only been a couple weeks.)

But I digress.

Yesterday I went to the Nats-Cardinals game – Game 3 of the NLDS, and the first postseason home game for the Nationals – and I cheered for the Nats.

It didn’t feel right.

It didn’t feel natural.

It didn’t feel as intense.

But it did feel like the lesser of two evils.

If my Phillies weren’t in the same division as the Nats, I wouldn’t have thought twice about rooting for the home team. But they are, so I did.

The Cardinals, however, killed our posteason last year, and I can hold a grudge with the best of them.

Even so, my Nats cheers just weren’t heartfelt, and I tried to explain it to Husband.

I feel dirty. I don’t like cheering for a division rival.

Husband understood. He didn’t try to convince me otherwise, and he nodded (without explicitly agreeing) when I rationalized.

I can’t root for the Cardinals; they beat us last year. And it’s not like the Nats beat out the Phillies for the division. We were never really in the running.

In the end, though, my reasoning – sound or not – didn’t matter. The Nats lost to the Cards, and I realized the only slight silver lining of not having your own team in the postseason: I wasn’t sad about the loss.

Last year, when the Phillies were in the NLDS, my emotions were tied up in each and every game. And I cried when we lost the series.

This year, I won’t cry either way. I’ll cheer for a good game, and get goosebumps when I see all of the “Legends are born in October” commercials. And I won’t be emotionally drained by the end of the month.

But truth be told, I’d always rather be in the running and risk the heartbreak, than not be in the game at all.

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My dearest Phillies,

I have but one request for you this weekend, and it is simple: please do not get swept by the Nationals.

I understand that they’re looking pretty good so far. I can admit that Harper is fun to watch. And you’ll forgive me if I still have a soft spot for Jayson Werth and his beard.

I’ll use any excuse to put this photo in a post. Even if the facial hair isn’t current.

BUT you have to win this weekend – at least one game.

They’re trying to psych you out with this “Take Back the Park” campaign, but I think we all know that the fan ratio will still be in Philly’s favor.

And don’t you want to win for your traveling and transplant fans?

Now, I’ll be honest. It probably wouldn’t be my choice to have Kendrick facing off against Strasburg, but maybe you’ll surprise me. Maybe you’ll score the way you did against the Braves. Stranger things have happened. (See: Nationals in first place in the NL East.)

I also want to take a moment to apologize. I won’t be able to be at the games this weekend, because I’ll be back in the hometown (running Broad Street!) where you know that everyone will be rooting for you.

I will be cheering my little heart out, possibly with obscenities, depending on how everything unfolds.

So please, guys, please make me proud. I really only want to use obscenities in a happy way.



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Last year in the weeks preceding March Madness, I decided that I wanted to care more about my bracket. In order to do that, I decided that I should have a college basketball team to root for and care about and follow (before the bracket teams were determined).

But who?

Hopkins had a fantastic team…but it was Division III. Not eligible.

Because I’m in DC, there were suggestions that I pull for Georgetown. But…I go to GW (even if I don’t follow GW sports).

I eventually settled on a hometown team. I chose a school who I’d grown up hearing about. I also have several friends who have gone there, at least one of whom was closely affiliated with the basketball program.

So I told BNF. “I think I’m going to go with Villanova as my team.” I explained my reasoning; it wasn’t because they’d been good that year, I just wanted someone to care about.

You can’t.”

I can’t what?

You can’t just pick a team. That’s not how it works.

But I just did.

No. You either root for the team where you went to school —

But you didn’t go to UCLA! You’re not following your own rules!

OR you root for the team that you grew up cheering for.

Well, I grew up hearing about Villanova. Why doesn’t that count?

Because it doesn’t.

So you’re telling me that if I don’t pick a team as a child, and I don’t go to a Division I school, then I never get to have a college basketball team?

Yep. Pretty much.”

So I caved. I lost my desire to care about the tournament and chose my bracket at random.

And this year? Well, I did the same thing (mostly out of laziness).

But I’m curious – is BNF’s logic sound?

Are there some sort of college-basketball-cheering rules that I just never knew about before? And what about all those kids (like me) who didn’t grow up cheering, and didn’t go to a UNC or Georgetown or Maryland etc?

Personally, I think his logic is flawed. But what do I know?

Besides, it’s lacrosse season anyway.

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Leading up to Sunday, I told myself that Philly should be a fun marathon. No pressure. I’d already PR’ed twice, and I really just wanted to enjoy the run. That was my intention.

Photo Credit: Mama

But then, around miles 8 through 10, I realized that I was keeping a fairly steady average pace of just under 10:00. And I started wondering if I could keep that up for the entire race.

Photo Credit: Mama

The short answer is no. I couldn’t. I kept it up until about miles 20 to 21, and then I hit the wall. The weather was great; the course was beautiful (albeit, hilly); the spectators were loud; and the signs were creative. But my body knew that it was almost done for the year and it decided that it wanted to be done NOW.

So I pushed. I talked to myself. I sang out loud a little bit. I promised my body that we’d be done in just a few more songs.

Around mile 24, I wanted to cry, because every inch of my body was in pain, but I couldn’t. There was simply no moisture left.

Around mile 25, I turned off my music and let myself be propelled by the cheering.

And as I crossed the finish line, I acknowledged that the pushing was worth it, as I saw my third PR in three attempts.

Official time: 4:26:34

Once I’d finished my bottle of water, I did cry. But they were very happy, very exhausted, very proud, and very relieved (that I don’t have to do this again for a long time) tears.

Philly’s tag line was “Best:Time of Your Life.” And it was.


Photo Credit: Harry

*Before the race started, BNF saw a guy with a sign that said, “On a scale of 1 to 10, you’re a 13.1.” As the sign guy saw him appreciate it and saw BNF’s marathon bib, he told him, “You’re a 26.2!”

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  • Tonight: we leave for Philly.
  • Tomorrow: we pick up our running packets at the expo.
  • Sunday: I run my third marathon in six weeks and officially qualify for Marathon Maniac status.

I have to admit, my body has surprised me these past couple months. After Chicago, I found myself thinking, how in the hell am I going to do this again in three weeks? But my body rallied. It recovered quicker than I remembered from past marathons, and performed consistently better.

Maybe because I didn’t coddle it quite so much.

I’ve now seen a new city; gotten two new PRs; become a CamelBak convert; and realized that body glide is worth every penny (if I remember to use it).

I am ultimately glad that I pushed my body this year, and that I know what it’s capable of. I’m glad that I did it now, and that there’s no reason for me to do it ever again. (The maniac part, not the the marathon.)

And I’m glad that we’re ending the maniac run in Philly. At home. With friends and family and Wawa to celebrate.

Who says mimosas don’t go well with hoagies?

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My dearest Phillies,

You know I love you, right? And you should know how proud I am of you for a) clinching the National League East, b) clinching the National League record, and c) currently having the best record in all of baseball. These are not small feats, and I understand that. But you’ve set the bar high for me these past few years, and now I need you to live up to it.

There is no question that 98 wins is an accomplishment, but think how awesome 100 would be! And even better than that? 102. I know you can eclipse the current franchise record. I know you can.

Honestly, I thought you’d at least be at 100 by now. No one counted on you getting swept by the Nationals. And I’m not happy about that, but maybe you just needed to get it out of your system. I’d rather it happen now than later.

There are six games left for you to show the Mets and the Braves why you’re going to the postseason and they’re not. (Well, at least one isn’t. But it’ll be two if St. Louis has anything to say about it.)

The point is this: please win. Please play like the team that I know you are. Play like the team that clinched its postseason spot before anyone else and has the best pitching rotation in the game. Play like the best team in the league.

I promise that I’ll love you no matter what.

You should know, though, that not living up to your full potential could earn you a spot on my shit list. Kendrick, you know what that’s like.

But I will still love you.

Your biggest fan,


P.S. The next time you pop champagne in the clubhouse, can I please come? I’m really good at celebrations.

Just think about it.

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