Sunday, January 20, 2019

Pasadena Half-Marathon and 5k 2019


5k runners awaiting the gun. To the lower right are TNTvets Virginia Garner, David Hall, and the top of Esther's head. 

On good authority, Conquer Endurance Group held a half-marathon along with a 5k this crisp Sunday morning. My place was in the 5k, shivering with everyone else. As many know from my 13 + years of blogging, the Rose Bowl is my home turf, scene of much training, and now hosting an actual 3.1 mile event, finishing on the 50-yard line of the venerable stadium.

Early morning at the venerable stadium.


Back in October, I challenged myself to run this race as a motivation to lose weight. In that, I failed.  Backtracking briefly, last June, at this very same Rose Bowl, I injured my leg climbing over a construction fence. That threw off my training, led to weight gain, and the reduction of exercise to walking along thinking of better days.

Enough self-pity. I woke up and thought of reasons not to participate, but went anyway. Stuck in traffic for 25 minutes, I didn't panic, recalling worse jams at the Surf City Half-Marathon. There, I was stuck in my car for over an hour, needed a bathroom desperately, and missed the starting gun. Rushing across the start line, I failed to adequately warm up and wound up injured.

Sunrise over the arroyo. 

Today, I walked like I trained, only pushed it a little, and didn't really run until the finish line was in sight so as not to be picked off by a short round woman who was really tearing it up.

Ending inside the Rose Bowl was quite cool. There were ample bananas and bagels, Gator-Ade and bottled water. Very sweet bling and a decent technical shirt contributed to the morning's success.

In my age group, there were only twelve men. I finished at #6. Not bad at all, given my erratic training.



I should sign up for a spring 5k, just to keep in the game. Be a little more consistent with my preparation. But no injuries today made it an event worth getting out of bed for on a Sunday morning, other than an earthquake.

Me and my big fat medal.

Friday, January 11, 2019

Saturday, January 05, 2019

I Reject You

mollyfletcher



Each year I vow to tidy up all the paper surrounding me. Each time, I make some progress then stop because tomorrow remains the superior day to sort paperwork. Anyway, I found a bag filled with story rejections from 1985 to 1988. Those years encompass my undergraduate days and shortly thereafter. Incredible. A pecking order of refusal existed back then.



1. Form rejection.
2. Form rejection signed by the editor.
3. Form rejection signed by the editor with a personal note.

Titles included Grue Magazine, The Horror show, and FACET, A Creative Writing Magazine. My submission sampler displayed progress from 1 rejections to 3, but never a sale. The amount of paperwork involved was daunting with multiple envelopes and postcards. (I should do a video on all that.) One time, a single rejection lead to two. 

Today, sites such as Duotrope list publishers, markets, and all manner of writerly statistics. Below are my short story submissions from 2009 to 2016. So many markets have gone the way of Grue Magazine, but more open all the time. A few keystrokes launches a tale, instead of envelopes within envelopes. But stories shall be told, and writers write, and editors reject—and sometimes accept. So it goes.

Should you cringe at rejection's bitter sting, speaker and author Molly Fletcher notes the upside.





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