10 Random Things About Me

This post has been floating around the blog-o-sphere for a little while, and I was recently tagged to do it by Sammi over at College Beauty Buff. Her blog is super cute and is all about beauty on a budget -- perfect for us broke college students/recent grads. Go check 'er out!

1. People have been known to insinuate that I'm too thin. "You must not like food, right?" or "Are you eating regularly?" One of my camp counselors even went to far as to suggest that I'm anorexic, which is the complete OPPOSITE of the truth! But even though most things like this have been said out of love, it's left me feeling incredibly insecure about looking thin. I don't have a weight problem, but I now get defensive about my weight because I get grief for it. And lots of girls are desperate for a thigh gap, while I have one and think I have chicken legs. Weird, right?

2. I can name an Olympic city from every year the games have been held. There were two per year from 1924-1992, and for most I don't know both, but I can get at least one from each Olympiad! I'm irrationally proud of this accomplishment.

I decided to take a Sporcle quiz to test myself. Dammit, Grenoble, who invited you anyway?

3. I've been an intern with USA Volleyball for over two months now, and only last week did I look up what "sideout" means. (It's when the other team serves and you win the point and get the serve back, FYI. I figured that much out just from watching so many matches, but I thought the actual definition would be a little more specific/technical than that!)

4. I'm a serial re-watcher/re-reader. If I love a TV show, movie or book, once is simply not enough.

5. I have a (semi irrational) fear of falling. I'm not afraid of heights when I feel safe, but if there's no railing or whatever I'm standing on is see-through? Not okay! And I'm not a big fan of being picked up or riding bikes. I like my feet firmly on the ground, thanks.

6. I've lost track of how many times I've donated my hair to Locks of Love. Chopped off ten inches for the first time in sixth grade and haven't stopped!

7. I cry over fictional people much more than I cry over real people.

8. I have the uncontrollable urge to throw up the U at every monument/cool place I go to. It's a Canes thing. ;)

How do you say "it's all about the U" in French?

9. I've only ever owned one souvenir trinket with my name on it, and that's only because family friends had it custom made for me. It was a keychain and it broke a week after I started using it. I was crushed.

10. I tried to stop being a Mets fan after they traded RA Dickey. But my friend Christina knows John Buck, the Mets' new catcher, and she told him that her friend abandoned ship. He told her that he'd make me change my mind. Remember those absolutely mindblowing numbers he had at the beginning of the season? Yep, that was totally all for me!

You're welcome, Mets fans.

And now I get to tag people -- it's supposed to be 10, but if you're reading this, consider yourself tagged. Most bloggers I know have already done this, which means several things; one, that I'm super late to the party, and two, that I need more blogger friends! (Now accepting applications. Inquire within.) But I think I can manage a few, right?

1. Sarah at Shades of Sarah
2. Tejnoor at Tejnoor's Blog
3. Erica at Sincerely, Erica Michelle
4. Noor at Noor's Place
5. Areeba at Aree With Umbrella
6.  Erin at Styles I Like

Have at it, everyone! :)

Being British 101

In case you've been living under a rock for the last year and a half of my life (or just started following my blog. Y'know, whichever), I fancy myself to be an honorary Brit. I may have only lived in London for five months, but I feel much more British than Floridian and I lived in Miami for four years.

Elizabeth, over at Emphatically Elle, is getting ready to study abroad in the good ol' motherland and wrote a post called The American Girl's Guide to Being British. It's a really solid start, even more impressive as she hasn't even lived there yet! But as a sort-of expat (I mean, I DID only leave because my visa expired!), I just had to throw my two pence in. (See what I did there? :P)

Ah, the good old days.

Slang

Elizabeth brings up flat, ring, telly, tube and fringe, which are all must-knows. But don't forget about...

Queue, n./v. - A line of people, or to join said line.

Bin, n. - trashcan. (I once said, "Just pop it in the bin," during one of my London 2012 Ceremonies shifts, and I think that's the most British I've ever felt in my life. Pip-pip, cheerio.)

Quid, n. - another word for pound, the British currency. Quid is to pound as buck is to dollar.

Biscuit, n. - cookie. So don't be confused when someone asks if you want tea and biscuits!

Digestive, n. - cookie. I still don't understand this one. The Brits I've asked about it still don't understand this one. Digestives have absolutely nothing to do with digestion.

Pants, n. - underwear. What Americans refer to as pants, the Brits call slacks.

Flatmate, n. - what we Americans refer to as a roommate. In the U.K., roommates are... ahem... not platonic.

Universal Truths

1. The "everyone drinks tea" stereotype is absolutely true. My flat literally came with an electric kettle. And I even picked up a tea-drinking habit, every night before I go to bed. English breakfast tea with a splash of milk. Perfection.

2. Elle's right; you can't see Parliament from every window in London, especially if you live in a crappy flat, because that probably means you're living in the East End (Parliament is central). But you know what you can see from your window if you live in a crappy flat in the East End?

BOOM.

That, my friends, is Olympic Park as seen from my window.

3. People may not dress like they're in an episode of Downton Abbey, but they DO dress like they just walked out of a fashion magazine. More on that later.

4. Great Britain, the United Kingdom, and England are all very different things. Ready? The United Kingdom is made up of England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland, and is a political union. Great Britain is purely geographic and made up of England, Scotland and Wales, aka the countries on an island together. And England is... well, England. Confused yet? Watch this video. It taught me everything I know.

5. "There is no such thing as a "British" accent. Think about it, wouldn't you be annoyed if someone insinuated that all Americans sound the same? Each region has its own dialect, as with any country. Just as someone from Texas would sound different than someone from Michigan, someone living in Liverpool would not sound the same as someone from London. Also, 9 times out of 10, it is not the posh aristocratic accent you think you're used to hearing in drama shows and James Bond movies." -- Elizabeth is right on the money. I mean, have you seen the Team USA athletes attempting to speak cockney? 'Cause that's one of the British accents and, uh... just watch the video.

Tips and Tricks

1. Fun fact: the flag is only known as the Union Jack when it's flown over water. Otherwise it's known as the Union Flag. GASP! I know, right? Did I just tilt your world off its axis? Well, the Union Flag is definitely more of a high fashion statement in the U.K. than the American flag is over here, so it's totally okay to rock it on a t-shirt. But only during the Jubilee is it plastered everywhere.

2. Londoners will be able to tell you're an American, usually even before you open your mouth. And being mistaken for a Londoner is the highest of all compliments. Remember when I said they all look like they belong in a fashion magazine? If you want to look like you belong, do not -- I repeat, DO NOT -- wear sweatpants. You'll stick out like a sore thumb. A sore, American thumb. Londoners wear skirts with tights, or shorts with tights, or skinny jeans, with boots (usually leather, or fake leather) and a snazzy peacoat. Oh, and a scarf, folded all artistically. I was feeling lazy one day and wore sweats to class, and I felt super uncomfortably sloppy-looking compared to everyone else.

3. The Brits DO love their royals. They even made a drinking game out of the Queen (sort of): grab a coin, toss it in someone else's drink, and yell, "GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!" The person has to chug their drink to get the coin and save the Queen on it from drowning. As someone who doesn't drink, it's hilarious!

4. The U.K/Great Britain/England/whatever is the best place on earth. Drink snakebites and cider, eat haggis and bangers and mash, complain that the pound coins make your wallet feel like a brick in your bag, get stuck in tube traffic during rush hour, buy great clothes for no money at Primark, embrace the chilly drizzle and have the time of your freaking life.

Now, who wants to pay for my plane ticket back over there?

True Life: I Survived The Incline

I climbed a mountain this morning.

I hated it. It was awesome.

 If you've never heard of The Incline, it's about 2,700 stairs up Pike's Peak, gaining 2,000 feet in elevation over the length of a mile. It's not enough to say that Olympic athletes use it as a workout. Just Google "The Incline" (seriously, it's that infamous) and here are some quotes that you get:

“It’s the one workout where people truly have to face something that is unbeatable,” the speedskater Apolo Ohno said. “It is you against yourself.”

“It’s not running,” the Greco-Roman wrestling gold medalist Rulon Gardner said. “It’s not walking. It’s surviving.”

“It’s weird,” [wrestler Steve] Mocco said. “You think of yourself as this great athlete. Then you look left, and there are two grandmas passing you. Then you look right, and a man with a long beard and a walking stick goes by.”

“Once you think you’ve done it all in terms of training, you come back to the Incline,” [wrestler T.C.] Dantzler said. “You need to scratch the bottom of the barrel, get splinters under your fingernails and dust in your eyes. You need to come back with Incline rash.”

“No matter how many times you do it, the ending never changes,” [wrestling coach Momir] Petkovic said. “Every time it kicks your butt.”

The sign says, "Warning: This is an EXTREME trail!" (Thank you, Captain Obvious.)

 

Now, for some reason, this is a thing people do for fun. Or, at least, do with basically no training incentive. It's a notch on your belt, a bragging point, a must-do before leaving Colorado Springs. So, despite not having set foot in a gym since January, I decided to take it on.

These are the lengths I go to for a good story to tell, people. It's all about the experience.

Unfortunately, this experience involved a 5 a.m. wake-up call to make sure we were off the mountain before it got too hot (and storms rolled in). On the drive over there, The Incline looms over you, this bare ribbon straight up the mountain. I got increasingly nervous as we got closer, probably the most nervous I've ever been about a physical task. Not only am I out of shape, but I don't like heights. And once you're up there, there's really no escape. I was legitimately concerned about my ability to do it. (Yet I decided to do it anyway. I don't even know.)

Before. There are no "during" photos, because "during" I was concentrating on NOT DYING.

I started feeling it literally about a minute into the trail, and the amount of internal cursing I did was unbelievable. In all the advice I'd gotten prior to going ('cause hell if I was tackling this thing without doing my homework first!), I'd heard that you should wait as long as possible to take a break, otherwise you'll constantly be stopping. So here I was, barely five minutes into the trail, having to stop and catch my breath. I waved on the rest of my group. This was definitely something I needed to do at my own pace if I was going to do it at all.

Honestly, there was a point towards the beginning where I seriously doubted if I could finish. I'd pulled off to the side to catch my breath and drink some water and thought, "why the hell am I doing this?" But unless you want to climb down those stairs (haha, NOPE), there's nowhere to go but up. There is a bail-out point a little more than halfway through, and for a bit I seriously contemplated it, but I hate the feeling of "I'm not good enough" more than just about anything else in the world. (And I didn't even notice the bail-out point as I was climbing, so all the better.) I'm also incredibly stubborn and single-minded, so once I got into some sort of rhythm, I was going to get to the top if it killed me.

It was bad. I kept looking at what looks like the top -- it's actually a false summit, because Satan must live here or something -- and thinking, "I'll never make it. There's no way." So I stopped looking up. I eventually had to stop turning around and looking down, too (that whole fear of heights thing), so my world narrowed to my burning legs and shriveled lungs and the step in front of me. Just one foot over the other. One at a time. That ended up evolving into, "okay, where's the next good spot to take a break? Haul it up to there."

And then there were the steps themselves, all gravel and uneven wooden planks and jagged steel. It gets pretty steep, too, so eventually I started using my hands to help. It really is surviving. You get your ass to the top of that mountain by any means necessary. (Let me just say, it helped a ton thinking about what an awesome blog post it would make.)

And I did. I made it to the top.

Conquered! And the view was insane!

Me, Nicki and Chrissy -- the troops.

It took me an hour and 27 minutes, which isn't a good time, but I can't even begin to care. My goal was to beat an hour and a half, which I did, and not be catatonic afterwards, which I wasn't. At the top, it didn't take me longer to recover than it took me on any other of my breaks, and the trail back down the mountain was actually really enjoyable. The first bit was way too steep for my liking, but it leveled out and became a really solid walk. Plus, after hiking Masada in Israel with a broken toe, no trip down a mountain will ever seem difficult or painful!

Gotta say, I'm feeling incredibly accomplished. I may have done it slowly, but I did it. Probably won't be attempting it on one leg a la Apolo any time soon, though!

On that torturous climb up, I couldn't help but think about how appropriate a metaphor The Incline is to life. I know, I know, gag me -- but for real. If I look at the ways I still have to go, it seems like a monstrous, impossible task. But if I set smaller goals and focus on the steps it takes to get me to one before moving on to another? The next thing I know, I'm 80% of the way to the top without even realizing it (true story). And not killing myself to get there is a biggie.

Ugh, okay, no more of that philosophical junk. The Incline sucks and deserves to die a slow, painful death by climbing itself.

But I'm really, really glad I did it.

Grab A Friend Link-Up and Olympic Books

So, I'm trying some new things out here in blogger world. I joined a link-up!

 

Truthfully I don't even really know how these work. But I'm having a lot of fun clicking through all the linked blogs, and this week's question gives me an excuse to write a post I've been sitting on for awhile. Actually, I don't even know if you're supposed to make a post answering the question. But whatever, I was inspired!

Q: The book you're never gonna read again?

Ugh, any number of books that were assigned in school. I think The Art of Keeping Cool was my first experience with god-awful literature, followed several years later by Johnny Tremain. Then in high school, there was Beowulf and, of course, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. That was the only book ever assigned to me (at that point) that I ever made the conscious decision not to read, after I couldn't make it through the first chapter.

But I didn't link up with this to complain! If you're surprised that this got me thinking about Olympic books, than we clearly don't know each other very well. I've wanted to make a list of Olympic books to read for ages, and this was the perfect excuse to peruse Amazon! My list had over 20 books on it, and narrowing it down was a serious issue... so I didn't. Yay! :P

Okay, I've already read The Boys of Winter and Going for the Gold, but the more I read about this team, the more I want to read about this team. So One Goal is a total no brainer. As for Miracle On Ice, it's just a collection of all the New York Times stories written about the team. Um, as someone who wrote a thesis based on the Times' coverage of the Olympics, does this not sound like the most awesome thing ever? And apparently, used, it costs one cent. So, uh, this will shortly be in my possession.

I'm a big fan of a good sports biography. Apolo Ohno, RA Dickey, John Carlos... even the Miracle on Ice books I've read sort of fall into this category. I love when athletes turn into real people, know what I mean? Cool Runnings and Beyond has to be fascinating -- the movie was only loosely based on the true story, so learning what really happened is a must! Do I even need to explain about The Magnificent Seven? That's right up there at the top of the list of American Olympic moments. And, as for Running My Life, am I the only one who loved Seb Coe as the head of LOCOG? I think it's amazing that he was an Olympic athlete and cared enough to stay involved to that extent. He also seems like a really cool guy, and after looking at those photos of him competing in Moscow, arms thrown wide, face contorted into some unfathomable expression, I don't know how anyone can help but like him!

 

Okay, so, clearly this is where we have the problem, haha. I read Rome 1960 and didn't expect to love it nearly as much as I did, and I've been looking for a book like it ever since. So, in chronological order, we've got: Triumph: The Untold Story of Jesse Owens and Hitler's Olympics, Nazi Games: The Olympics of 1936, The Austerity Olympics: When the Games Came to London in 1948, Snowball's Chance: The Story of the 1960 Winter Olympic Games Squaw Valley and Lake Tahoe, Something in the Air: American Passion and Defiance in the 1968 Mexico City Olympics, Munich 1972: Tragedy, Terror and Triumph at the Olympic Games, Olympic Sports and Propaganda Games: Moscow 1980, Boycott: Stolen Dreams of the 1980 Moscow Olympic Games, and A Long Shot to Glory: How Lake Placid Saved the Winter Olympics and Restored the Nation's Pride. Whew. Better get cracking.

These are the books that prove, without a doubt, how much of a nerd I am. I literally cannot believe A Century of Olympic Posters exists, I'm THAT excited about it. And Secrets of the Olympic Ceremonies? I mean, hello! (Though I could probably contribute to that one. ;D) The Book of Olympic Lists is subtitled, "a treasure trove of 116 years of Olympic trivia," so, y'know. Olympic Turn Around is about, "How the Olympic Games stepped back from the brink of extinction to become the world's best known brand and a multi-billion dollar global franchise." Call me crazy, but I find that fascinating. And then, of course, there's The Official History of the Olympic Games and the IOC: Athens to London 1896-2012. I could probably crawl into that book and live in it.

Is anyone else perversely interested in the play-by-play and minute details of the Munich Massacre? Just me? Ahem. Well then. I'm also super interested in the Holocaust, so there's that. But I think that reading One Day in September would be fascinating. Morbid, but fascinating. Much less morbid is The Second Mark which is about the figure skating judging scandal in Salt Lake City 2002 that gave Jamie Sale and David Pelletier the second gold medal of the pairs competition. Unprecedented stuff, man. And hey, that's something I actually remember witnessing! The programs, the first medal ceremony, the second medal ceremony, all of it! Whoa, how 'bout that? I loved them. I think they're divorced now and it makes me kind of depressed.

Well, I think I've fully cemented my status as the ultimate nerd. And I'm Not. Even. Sorry. #boom