I had never heard of the Rock N Roll Marathon series until I got this weekend gig cashiering at their expo. They were hosting a ½ marathon here in Philly; a sold out marathon at that, with 19,000 runners. What is a ½ marathon? Its 13.1 miles of raw endurance. Early Friday morning before the expo opened I walked around the hall and looked at all the photos hanging from the walls. Photos from a marathon in San Jose. Another ½ marathon in San Antonio. A marathon in New Orleans. NYC. Dallas. Las Vegas. Photos of Rock N Roll Marathon cheerleaders enthusiastically shouting from the sidelines. Photos of a Rock concert, which always awaits the runners at the finish line. Photos of people smiling.
As a runner I never run more than 2 miles on any given day because, well, I’m lazy. When I realized what this Rock N Roll Marathon was I figured, if I’m gonna be surrounded by real runners all weekend maybe they’ll inspire me some. But what is a real runner anyway? Super skinny girls in tights whose legs make up ¾ of their bodies? Yeah, they were there. But they only made up a fraction of the crowd. I met runners of all shapes and sizes. I met a heavy-set gay couple who told me that this would be their 5th marathon this year!
An Asian guy with a thick accent was buying a black fleece with the logo ‘Rock N Roll Philadelphia ½ Marathon 2010’ branded across the back. I asked him if he was running & he said yes. I couldn’t make out what else he said but I caught the word ‘siete’. He saw the confused look on my face and explained but I still couldn’t understand him. All I heard was “Something something something siete. Siete something something siete.” “Seven what?” I asked, “I’m sorry, I don’t….” But then he turned around to show me the back of the black fleece he was currently wearing, which was identical to the one he was purchasing except for the logo read ‘Rock N Roll Seattle ½ Marathon 2010’. “Oh, Seattle!” I said, “You ran in Seattle too!?” He nodded, beaming.
In fact I don’t think a single Philadelphian came through my line all weekend.
My favorite customers were the ones who were nearly pissing their pants because this would be their very first marathon. One girl asked me if I was running and when I told her no she asked, “Why not?” “Well,” I explained, “I’ve never run that far before. The most I’ve ever run is 7 miles, I’d never be able to do a ½ marathon.” She replied, “The most I’ve ever ran is 6 miles! But I’m gonna try.”
Last year I raised money for the AIDS fund and then on the morning of the AIDS run I never got out of bed. I freaked out and stayed under my blankets. I didn’t think I could do it. And here I was surrounded by 19,000 runners, most of whom have never run 13 miles before in their lives but have crossed the country just to try it. They reminded me of myself when I was 17 years old. I had never run a single mile before but I wanted to join the cross country team, just to try it. I remember that feeling, the uncertainty of self as you’re standing at the starting line trying not to throw up. The anxiety as you’re halfway through & see so many other runners dropping like flies. And that feeling when you cross the finish line. It doesn’t matter how many people are behind or ahead of you, when you cross the finish line, you’ve won. And you realize the only person you were trying to beat all along was yourself.
One woman was in my line with new shoes, clothes, compression socks, a belt & some other things I didn’t even recognize. She was talking so fast I barely caught a word, then she picked up a tube off my counter & read the label, “Anti-friction lotion.” She looked at me, alarmed, “Do I need this too? Oh my God! What else do I need? I heard I should wear two pairs of socks, is that true? I packed pants to run in and now I need shorts because I think it’s gonna be hot and I don’t want to get over-heated. Do you know what the weather is gonna be like tomorrow? I checked it an hour ago but it changes-” She was talking too fast to comprehend at this point, going on about the course and rocks and extra soles for her running shoes, “I’m gonna lose, I don’t even know why-” “Is this your first ½ marathon?” I asked her. “Yes,” she answered. “Well,” I said, “Don’t think of it as a race, but a run. And all you have to do is finish.” She seemed to have taken her first breath, smiled and said slowly, “You’re right, and that’s all I want to do. Just finish.” And I made her put the anti-friction lotion back.
Indeed I was inspired this weekend. By real runners and real people who were just trying to prove something to themselves. I miss the feeling you get from challenging yourself. I think I want to start pushing myself again, the way I used to when I ran for a team. And next year, maybe I’ll run a Rock N Roll ½ Marathon.
This time of year 8 years ago I was just beginning my life at Saul high school. We all had to complete a month of summer courses before being admitted into the school. I remember that July like it was yesterday. That was the summer I stepped into who I am. I switched from Air Force Ones to Chuck Taylors. I started listening to different kinds of music. I started painting on everything. I stopped trying to fit in & tried to build a life that would fit me. I stopped looking at what was cool & started looking at everything. That summer I sort of wiped my life clean & started from scratch. Like clothes, I let my wardrobe go & asked myself, “If there were no styles, no trends & no dress codes, what would you wear?” And something in me answered, “T-shirts. I kinda like graphic t-shirts.” And so I started wearing nothing but t-shirts. And my entire taste in music changed. And I chose my music the same way, by pretending that nothing was popular & no one could hear what I played. Everything was based simply off of what I liked & what I wanted. And at 14 years old one band in particular caught me; Good Charlotte.
Their poster from back then is still up on my wall. Their single, “The Anthem” became my anthem. They were the soundtrack to my teenage years. Their music added to the changes I made. As I stepped into who I am, their music was there. And in the last 8 years they’ve come to Philly several times to perform. And of course no one would go to a Good Charlotte show with me because that kind of music isn’t cool where I come from. So I missed show after show after show. At some point in your life you wake up & realize that the majority of your regrets don’t come from things you’ve done but things you haven’t done. So when the Bamboozle Roadshow came to Philly last Sunday I bought myself a ticket and went. Good Charlotte was gonna be there & I didn’t wanna regret missing them anymore. It was hot that day too. 96 degrees. It was at Festival Pier, on the waterfront. I got there at 10:30am. Waited in the sun until the gaits opened at 12:30. Got inside, got some beers, something to eat, met some cool people, ran into some people I already knew, got some more beers, and by 4:00 the show was starting with a band I knew nothing about. At 5:05 Simple Plan took the stage, & they’re a band I can sing along to, and I did. Then I started feeling sick from the heat & the beers. I told the girls I was with that I’d be right back & I took a walk around.
At 6:00 sharp I saw a familiar bowler hat hit the stage, followed by an identical man in a black cap… then Paul and Billy and Deano. And by myself I raced to the stage & got pretty close, forgetting that I was sick. I was high off my eyes because I was finally seeing Good Charlotte for the very 1st time after all these years. And when they started, they started with ‘The Anthem’. I swear I was 14 years old again, jumping and screaming and singing at the top of my lungs. During Benji’s guitar solo this guy next to me shouted, “We’re over thirty and we’re both singing like teenagers! Wooooooo!” Everyone, no matter how old they were, was a teenager during ‘The Anthem’. After Good Charlotte I went home. The show stretched until after 11 o’clock that night but I was hot & drunk & sick & absolutely sun burnt. But I won’t forget the crowd surfing and water fights. I had a blast last Sunday.
I remember that summer, this time of year, 8 years ago, when I discovered Good Charlotte, when I stepped into who I am, I had dreamed of a day like last Sunday. 8 years later I got it. And having a dream so simple as seeing your favorite band live come true, it makes me wonder about the fate of my other dreams. But for that short half hour or so I felt 14 again, when the only thing I wanted was to see Good Charlotte. And there I was & there they were…. And just like that I had everything I wanted.
I’ll be honest… when I woke up this morning my plan for the day was to save the world. It was my first day of my canvassing job for Penn Environment. When I 1st went to the interview for this job last week I was stoked, excited to get a job that wasn’t retail, I was ready for it. But then the interview started & I found out that it was a canvassing job, which was exciting and intimidating at the same time. Standing on a crowed city corner tryna convince people to give me money to save PA’s parks wasn’t something I was crazy about. But I was crazy about doing something positive.
I remember the day I was approached by a Greenpeace canvasser on 16th Street over a year ago. His name was Guillermo & I walked right past him at 1st. Then I looked back at him, he smiled at me and said, “You look like you wanna save a Polar Bear.” These were the magic words. Polar bears have been my favorite animal since I was a little girl and when I was 13 years old & learned that they were endangered, that’s when I became environmentally aware. That day I became a bit more vocal on environmental issues. And when I got this job I thought that I could be someone’s Guillermo.
When I got dressed this morning I was still a little iffy about the whole thing but I thought, maybe this is how saving the world starts. It was pouring outside so I put on my rain boots, grabbed my umbrella & headed out into the downpour. When I got to the office on Walnut Street I made my way up to the 6th floor. It was 8am. For the 1st hour they made me practice “the rap” which is the schpeel you’re supposed to say to people, and you’re supposed to know it word for word. They made me do it so many times I became irritated. Then my trainer, Mike & I headed out to our destination. Since I had no ‘Penn Environment’ shirt yet, I had to wear a ‘Penn Environment’ rain coat.
Mike is from Oakland, California. He came all the way out here to do this job. To canvass. That kind of passion and dedication for environmental work is very rare and I admire him for it. As we walked through the city to our designated corner some kid with long blonde hair started walking beside us. He explained that he had done numerous canvassing jobs in the past, the most recent for a children’s hospital. Mike asked him what their project was and the kid responded, “Uh, I don’t remember. Sorry, I smoke a lot of pot. But you guys keep up the good work!”
Our corner for the day was 12th & Filbert, right outside Redding Terminal. By late morning the rain had stopped & it hit 88 degrees. My feet were sweaty in my rain boots and I couldn’t take off the rain coat because I had to wear something with the logo on it. And not only was I hot & irritable but I got a pretty bad headache too.
But comfort wasn’t a part of the job, I knew this. So I kept my mind on the mission. I was out here to save the world after all. In a nut shell, a canvassers job is to make people care about issues they probably don’t even know about. But as you know, most people walk right pass you, not knowing that you get credit for people who just stop to listen. I prefer the people who walked right pass me over those who felt the need to insult me or shout negative remarks. There were quite a few of those.
There was a bald woman in cheetah print tights who kept us company. She stood on the corner with us with a Styrofoam cup & begged everyone who stopped for money. This made people stop even less.
But I stood, planted on that corner and as the hours passed I became more & more miserable. It’s hard to feel like you’re making a difference when the only people who will stop to listen to you are middle aged men who want your phone number in exchange for a contribution. Around mid-shift I strongly considered giving Mike my jacket & binder & walking down to Market Street to get the bus home. Especially when Betsy returned with her Styrofoam cup and started drooling like an infant, all down the front of her clothes, onto the sidewalk.
I had so many conversations with old people who probably just wanted someone to talk to. One guy told me about how the mayor owes him a million dollars. Another guy told me stories about how he used to feed deer when he was a child. Riveting stuff.
The best part of the day for me was when I saw Mike down the street reciting “the rap” to someone. But I knew her. I raced down the street. I definitely knew her. Not personally but we had taken a writing class together the summer before. Her name was Sarah & she was the best writer I had ever known personally. I was very excited to see her, I said, “You’re the one who wrote the story about the guy and the obituaries!” She took my hand & said, “Yeah!” Then she recognized me. “Do you still write?” she asked. And in that instant I just wanted to go home & write so bad. I had wanted to do this, but now that I was out there doing it I felt completely out of my element.
After 6 hours, I got 16 people to stop and talk to me and I raised $15. I don’t think a single person took me seriously all day long. My head was pounding, I was sweaty from head to toe and I would’ve been starving had Betsy not ruined my appetite & almost made me sick, eating unidentified items from a nearby trashcan.
I truly wish I possessed Mike’s endurance and dedication. I woke up this morning excited to make a difference. But canvassing isn’t for everyone. I think I’ll have to find a different way to save the world.
I had a cool dream last night;
I was a member of an environmental activist group and we were overseas somewhere, I think Japan or Switzerland. How you get Japan and Switzerland confused, I don’t know but it was one of the two. It was really late at night and pouring rain. We were on a ship in the middle of an ocean. The boat belonged to some natives who were attacking whales and endangered shrimp (I’m not sure if any species of shrimp are actually endangered) and each of us had snuck on the ship & positioned ourselves in front of a net. Each net held a poor baby whale or a bunch of shrimp. There were police on the boat and we were all surrounded.
Then one of my team took a knife from his pocket. He cut the net he was standing by & the whale fell back into the ocean & swam away. One by one, members of my team cut their nets & animals fell to the water, free. And each one of my friends who did this was tazored by the policemen. I was afraid as I watched them fall to the floor shaking in pain. I stood there, soaked from the rain, with my own knife in my hand, staring at the crew & police who were staring at me, waiting for me to make a move. I was so afraid of being tazored that I didn’t do anything. A couple of my team members were afraid as well & didn’t move either. We were all arrested & put to work that very night in a muddy yard, digging holes. It was dark & we were all soaked & covered in mud in this foreign prison. After hours of digging we were taken to a very small house where we’d be staying. We were prisoners. But we were all smiling & laughing. We were having the time of our lives, covered in mud & all.
Then I woke up. & I couldn’t help but hate myself for not cutting that damn net. I know it was just a dream but I am so disappointed in myself. I’m that type of person, I know I am. I have the best intentions but when it comes down to it, I’m afraid. I never make a move when I should. That’s why my life’s where it’s at, cause I can think about doing things but when it comes down to it, I just stand there, afraid of being tazored. Then every day I wake up slightly upset with myself. Because I never just cut the damn net.
Tomorrow is Earth Day, what an appropriate dream.
How do I become fearless? I want to be the kind of person who can make a difference. I need to be the type of person who will, when the time comes, cut the net. How do I become fearless?
