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lafuerte01-blog · 4 years

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It Is Only Impossible if you Don’t Try

IM Cozumel 2019 Race Recap

The hardest part of any story is trying to figure out where to begin. And in this case, do I start where my training began in April 2019 or do we start with race week? Or do you call this story, “A Tale of Two Kilgore’s” because (spoiler alert here) – one Kilgore trained her ass off and woke up at zero dark thirty multiple times throughout her 6 month training and had upwards of 6 hour long brick workouts while the other Kilgore just winged it and finished only an hour and a few minutes after the other. Thinking back, who was the crazier person? The one that invested time, lost sleep and spent a lot of money training, or the one that did next to nothing and still earned the coveted Ironman title? But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Let’s start with race week. Met up with my coach a few days before heading out of town for the race. The good news was there was nothing magical that I needed to know. I already knew it. I had practiced it weeks and months on end. I just needed to execute it. The downside was I was so amped up and just wanted to RACE. My mind was ready. My body was ready. Unfortunately, it was Monday and I still have 6 days to wait. So I rested. Or not really “rested” but went from 1.5 hour swims to 45 minute swim workouts. And reduced my wattage on bike workouts and didn’t run full sprints at the track. So I had 3 workouts to keep me busy, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday leading up to my departure to Mexico on Thursday afternoon.

I was never nervous about the race. I was more nervous about whether or not all my shit would get to Cozumel. If my bikes would make it unscathed. If I would forget anything. Never doing a race of this magnitude, wasn’t sure what I’d need for special needs bike and special needs run. I prepped a collective 10 hours just packing for the race. And still had to pack for the vacation that followed! In thinking back, if I could just have someone pack for me, that would have reduced my stress levels 1,000%.

(Above: all of my OCD packing in action)

I realized during this time there was also no way that 2 bikes and 4 pieces of luggage along with 4 humans would be able to be transported in our Camaro or Altima. People talk about “marathon brain” in terms of forgetfulness during the peak of workouts. Imagine if I woke up the day we flew out and realized we didn’t have the right cars. Thankful that my brain was always in overdrive that last week so that I was able to connect with two amazing friends, Kevin and Jonny, to transport us and our luggage in their Texas sized trucks to and from the airport.

(Above: Thank goodness for friends with trucks!)

I learned the night before that my tri-sister Julianne made a sign to send Joe and I off on our trip. I appreciated her time in making something so badass!

The Flight Out (3 days before the race)

I don’t know how I stumbled upon it but in researching the prior host hotels/resorts and trying to figure out the math for the best flights into either Cozumel or Cancun, I found an American Airlines Vacation package that got us the best flights, direct from DFW to Cozumel with our host resort included. SCORE! Other options included flying to Cancun and schlepping our things on a ferry to Cozumel. More logistics made for a more stressed out Bethany so obviously the direct option was so worthwhile. While waiting for the plane, our gate was taken over by families and participants of the race. Joe joked this would be the fittest flight out that day. We met up with a couple who were being Sherpas for their friend. We also met up with a lady from California (Lilian) who was hoping to PR this race and get a sub 12:00 (she did! 11:50 was her finish time). She was with her two young ones and we were happy all our kids were appeased by electronics as it had already been a long day.

On the plane, Joe ended up switching seats with a family that was separated so the son could sit with his mom. Let’s face it, he needed all the good karma he could get! In doing so, he sat next to an IronFamily – Keith and his wife. Apparently Keith got his canisters confiscated at the airport and wasn’t sure where to buy them. Being the super anal-retentive person I am, I researched and followed every blog and Facebook group related to IM Cozumel and told Joe off-hand during a conversation that if they run out of air canisters at IM Village, we can go to the local tri store called Cabrillas. Joe relayed that info and Keith was super appreciative. It’s like they became best buddies that day. And they were buddies the entire weekend to follow- as not only did Joe sit next to him by sheer luck, but Keith and his family happened to be at the same resort. In the same villa. Exactly two floors directly below us. It’s truly a small world. After arriving in Mexico, we were in a bit of a panic as I found one bike but not the other. We literally were the last family out of customs because of this one bike bag being separated from the pack. And it’s not like customs is fast in any way and on top of that we’re on island time so we waited patiently.

(This is what Cozumel airport looks like when you’re the last one in customs)

On top of it we randomly had to have our bags gone through because that’s what must happen when you’re tired. So when we exited to get to our shuttle that had been waiting now for an hour and ten minutes, we got accosted by a tour group that posed as a front for our van service. After realizing they were selling us a tour package, I kindly said no and headed out to our van, curious if it would even be there. It was. And after hauling everything into the back we loaded in the van and took in the 25 minute drive through downtown to the resort. The downtown area was decked out for the race with welcome signs. The island was crazy busy with taxis and scooters everywhere. I was thankful when we finally arrived at the resort which was away from the hustle and bustle for some authentic, local food and rest. The family got to experience my favorite cochinta pibil and salbutes yucatecos for dinner. We had seconds of each. Dolores was the best waitress by far the entire time at the resort. We filled our bellies and went to bed.

Friday morning, two days before the race

After waking up, Joe and I assembled our bikes. It was then that I realized I left a second flat kit back at the house. If not already familiar, the Kilgore’s have notoriously bad luck at races with flats and spokes but I figured the extra flats I packed would just have to go into my special needs bag and hope I didn’t need a second or third tube before picking up the special needs bag at mile 60 on the route.

We went to IM village that afternoon to pick up our race packets, find our name on the IM wall, take obligatory photos with the Ironman sign, and look about the IM store to buy all the things. But since this was an IM branded race co-sponsored with Adeportes, the items weren’t as plentiful as many IM 70.3 races. And most of it was already picked over. But maybe that was a good thing because we got out cheaper than if all the things were there. We obtained our IM wristband, our timing chip, our race bags, all inside a nice IM Cozumel branded backpack along with a nice race belt. Because Joe is notoriously known for meeting up with random people he doesn’t know, we ran into my FTC teammate Julie Adams and her IronFamily and spoke with them for a while. He had worn his FTC shirt to go to IM Village in hopes to run into someone; it worked.

(Above: Awesome name placement)

While at IM village, my brother Brian arrived so the kids and I walked to meet him. After a brief hello it was about that time that Joe and I had to go to the mandatory athlete briefing. As we waited in the hot sun, we passed it off as “acclimating to the heat” and saw our IronFamily man Keith there. Because it was so hot and Brian just landed, we had him take the kids so they didn’t have to be bored out of their minds. After waiting a half hour or so after the scheduled start for briefing (again, island time) we got into the cool AC building, sat up front, and had a truly enjoyable time meeting our two emcees and announcers for the race. They made a lot of jokes which made for a lighter mood and helped us all feel special for what we were about to embark upon.

SATURDAY (the day before the race!)

I was thankful I spent the 10 hours packing my essentials in advance and took meticulous notes of the contents within (see picture below) because when we picked up our race packets, I essentially just had to place my Ziplock bags into their respective bike, run and special needs bags. Joe and I got up early to ride our bikes to and from the official swim practice site. Our bikes were tuned up before the race by Velofix but of course the derailleur was jostled during the flight so my bike had difficulty getting into my middle gears of my big chain. So I knew after our swim practice I’d need to get in touch with bike tech at the resort. I was excited for the swim and wanted to be able to feel the current that would carry us toward the finish. Unfortunately, my new goggles that I had only swam in 5 times decided to leak during my practice swim. And there wasn’t a kayak or lily pad for me to rest on to fix them. These are the moments you need to know how to handle during the choppy start of a swim start anyway. I pulled off to the side, flutter kicked vertically and tried to adjust my goggles. Still no dice. After doing a lap with my left goggle trickling in sea water, I decided to get out and reset. I did a second quick circle swim and things seemed to be ok. I never got to catch the current and was a bit unnerved that my swim practice wasn’t as great as I expected. But I got the experience of dealing with unfortunate circumstances and kept my cool. And it’s an understated important skill not to over exert yourself during a stressful start of a swim before a long race day.

After getting back to the resort, I was thankful to have an onsite mechanic help with my bike and I was relieved to not have to worry about it as again, team Kilgore usually has issues on race day with their bikes. We still had to transport our bikes and based on our bib number, we were the final group of the day (3:30-5p). So in the meantime we headed into town to shop at some local stores and shop for souvenirs. When we got back to the resort, the family headed to the beach while Joe and I lugged our bikes to drop off at bike check-in. We were the only ones on the bus that picked us up at the resort. We had time to rack the bikes, get a lay of the swim out portion of the race, our changing tents, and familiarize ourselves with our rack location and bike out. Joe and I both lucked out that our bikes were racked in the same group; mine was at the front of the rack coming out of the changing tent – Joe’s was at the very end of the rack. We had a long way to bike out but it didn’t matter – we would just walk our bikes and calm our heart rates to prepare for the long ride ahead of us tomorrow.

There was a bit of an issue getting the free bus ride back from mandatory bike check in. We waited 30 minutes before even being told there were no more shuttles running to the resorts. Apparently the bus we rode in on was the last one running but none of the other 10 people waiting with us was told that information. We met a guy from Cincinnati who graduated from Indian Hill High School- he was there with his wife and they were also doing their first IM race. Also saw Lilian there whom we met at DFW from California doing her 3rd IM. So after a few of us argued a bit with the IM volunteers about the free shuttle service fiasco, the group won out and we were able to get a bus to take us back to the resort. It was a minor blip I thought but to be stranded several miles away with no money to go back was a bit unnerving. Definitely not something I wanted a day before the race.

When we finally returned, we headed out to the beach so I could test out my backup pair of goggles in the ocean. After doing a few laps in front of the resort and snorkeling with the family, we got showered and met up with my friend Gloria for dinner.

Side note: you never know what random acquaintance you have from your past may mean to you many years later. In 1998 I went on a study abroad trip to Merida, Mexico and met up with Gloria Martinez. She was a dance instructor and as part of my cultural studies for 3 months, I learned traditional dances (baile folklorico) and became close friends with her. We stayed in contact, sent each other many letters and mixed tapes, and here we were face to face again after 21 years. It was just amazing. And she would be a MAJOR help and inspiration halfway through the run. I needed her more than I knew. But I’m getting ahead of myself again…..

During dinner Gloria met my family and I got to practice my Spanish while she practiced her English. She gave me a present, a local liquor Xtabentun from the Mayans. I had remembered having this while in Mexico before and it has a unique taste – liquorish and honey. In looking at the bottle we have now at home, apparently Joe really likes it – it’s almost gone! I had my traditional meal before any race, pizza, but wasn’t super hungry. I realized around 9p I needed to get ready to bed and try to sleep. It’s common not to sleep too well before a race. I think I got a solid 5 hours in.

Race morning

I woke up at 4:20a, 5 minutes before my alarm. I was ready. Graduation day was here! We asked the front desk the night before when the shuttles would start running; he said 5:30a. I thought that was late knowing our first transition (T1) opened at 5:15a. Not only that, we had to get to T1 to drop off our special needs bags, set up our shoes and attach our helmets to the bike and check tires for air. And after that had to catch a bus 2.4 miles upward to the swim start. But again, I trusted the information given. So after waking and getting dressed and having breakfast, we get to the bus line early only to find out that there’s a big group there already and the race organizers reduced the busses at our resort from 3 to 2. And the last bus that was coming was the one headed our way – and we were all hoping we’d get on. Some people were angry and hailed cabs. Others just waited (like us) and hoped to get on. It was a full bus but we were able to get on and upon arrival we frantically tossed our special needs bags to volunteers, got our bikes set up with nutrition and water bottles situated. We didn’t top off our tires; we didn’t have time. We just hoped and prayed they’d be ok. We walked hurriedly back to the entrance and waited in a ginormous line to catch the busses to take us to swim start. Met up with Julie from FTC somehow in all the chaos. Again, another issue as we got toward the front, the busses behind us were opening their doors to people waiting behind us so that by the time the busses rolled up, they were full. Participants were angry and the race volunteers were quick to act. We squeezed into a bus already full and took a seat at the very back. I just took deep breaths. Again, logistics are not fun for me and is super stressful when things get out of whack. Minor inconveniences really but seriously nerve-racking before a long day’s event. I ate another sandwich while taking the bus to the swim start. Things were going to be ok. It was then that I realized I had left my UCan back at the hotel. So I was a few hundred calories under what I had hoped but I also packed a backup sandwich and gel in T1. And I had been drinking extra water with electrolytes that morning. I told myself it was going to be ok.

Swim start

Once through the porta pottie line (after realizing they had one for males and females!), Julie and I got on our swim skins, put on Glide and eco-friendly sunscreen (to protect the coral) and tossed our final bag of the day, our morning clothes bag, to the volunteers and headed to our swim start corral. This being a self-seeded start, Joe and I had strategically decided to put ourselves in the 1:20-1:30 grouping. Julie went ahead as she’s a faster swimmer; we wished her luck! Next time I saw her was on the run – more on that later.

I knew I could swim the 2.4 mile distance in one hour and 30 minutes but also knew the current would be helpful. We heard the gun go off for the pros and started snaking around our corral toward the front of the pier. There were drones flying overhead. We waved. We caught up with the guy from Cincinnati and his wife. We congratulated them. Loud music pumping and blaring songs like, “We Will Rock You” by Queen and “Eye of the Tiger.” The pier started to become visible. I saw people tossing small bean bag sized pouches filled with water. People were drinking water and putting water on their heads to cool down. It was 7:40a ish and already warm. Temps were expected to be a real feel of 90 degrees with little cloud cover.

We were a huddled group of people and the sun was blazing. I caught sight of the ocean. It was wavy. Choppy. NOT like anything we had seen the previous days while on the island. This was going to be fun. I kept calm. We were in line with a lady who knew this was our first and saw our watches and told us they only last 14ish hours. Lovely. Again, nothing I can do. I kept fidgeting with my goggles- putting them on and off. Joe told me to keep them off because they would fog up otherwise. And that’s when I realized I forgot to wipe my goggles with the anti-fog cloth. Before I knew it, our group was “walking the plank” to the end of the dock. I placed my goggles on and just like that, I was in the water. I hit the bottom upon jumping in, not realizing it was shallow, so I bounced up and after 8 seconds, realized I had already pressed start on my watch. “It’s go time,” I thought.

The swim with all the people and all the waves could have been worse. I was thankful the swim out to the first of two turns was short. I saw a ton of marine life. There was a sign underwater – I couldn’t stop to read it but later learned it said “If you can think it, you can achieve it.” There were tons of scuba divers watching from the ocean floor. I would have loved to see what that swim looked like from above. I never got kicked or punched like others on the swim. I had people swim up on me but they swam around. I did the same when I came up on others. I kept with a pack. I rarely sighted- when I did, there was a huge wave in my face. I think I only took in one gulp of sea water. At one point I started smiling because I thought my husband was next to me. It took me a while before I noticed it wasn’t him. I swam with a pack of people and kept my pace consistent. I noticed a buoy on my right and thought they were to be on the left so I cut across and in doing so, I caught a nice current. But after a while I lost people. I saw a kayak. I was off on my own and in looking the rest of the group was on the left. So I swam fast to get back with the group. I couldn’t see ahead with the waves but didn’t want to be so far out on the right, despite the awesome current, to not know where I was. I kept up with the pack and found some people to draft off of. I caught sight of a yellow buoy. It didn’t make sense as most of them were orange other than to distinguish that being the half-way point maybe? I never checked my time or distance on the watch while swimming – I just kept swimming. My goggles were pretty fogged up by this point. I got off track again toward the back half of the swim and instead of making a tight turn at the red and final buoy, I instead made a long wide turn to the finish. It’s ok. I was finishing up and was able to climb the steps up and stop the watch. HOLY SHIT! I just had a PR swim: 1:23:51.

I took my coach’s advice coming out of the swim, no running – just walk to the changing tent to calm the heart rate down. I stood for about 15 seconds under a shower to rinse off before going into the women’s changing tent. My goal was to be in and out of the transition tent in 10 minutes. I had played and replayed in my head the things to do while in T1. I ended up doing a full change out from my tri suit and swim skin to bra, bike shorts and a bike top. I had a shower pill towel and a sturdy hand towel to help wipe away any remaining salt. Salt = chafe and I took a squirt bottle (tip courtesy of Jessica Marchi) full of water and sprayed between cracks and bits. Once done, I lightly toweled off an put on my bike shorts with Hoo Ha Ride Glide. I got volunteers to put sunscreen on my body. Slipped on my HR monitor. Ate my backup sandwich and drank my water. I just burned about 600 calories on the swim and needed to top off before setting off to ride. I put on my socks and headed out to my bike. Got my helmet, clipped it on, got my shoes on and walked the long walk to bike out. I checked Joe’s bike rack; his bike was still there. I got nervous. He’s a better swimmer; assumed he got caught up in the changing tent. I figured he’d be right behind me in no time on the bike. Total transition time: 17:02

At the mount line, I was keeping heart rate calm and take it easy. Even a veteran said everyone goes out fast on the first loop. I had written in permanent market on my leg my metrics for the race: 130-140 power, 78-82 cadence, 135 heart rate. I rode out and set off for a comfortable ride.

The Bike

What I was told to do by my coach was to stop every 20 miles and to pee at mile 40 and 80. There were approximately 5 rest stops around the island for the 38ish mile loop. For some strange reason, on my first loop, I decided to hit every single stop and pee at mile 20. I don’t know why I did this but I realized my error after the first lap when I saw Joe. It didn’t make sense that I was coming up on him around mile 46 when his bike was on the rack when I biked out. It took a nanosecond for me to realize my error. In hindsight, that extra 2 minutes per stop was ok; I wanted to take it easy. My HR was averaging 154 and wasn’t budging despite the easy effort. I attributed it to the heat. I also noticed on the first loop my power didn’t seem to be accurate. The day before I noticed this as well and texted the coach; asked if that happened what metric to follow – cadence or HR. Because the course is flat, he suggested both. I kept true to my cadence and only pushed it when I had to make a legal pass or had to back off when someone overtook me. Second loop was faster, I know I pushed it but I felt ok. I ended up grabbing water every 20 miles to top off my bottles and spray myself down (my cooling sleeves, my core, my head). I saw my brother and kids on the second loop of the bike course; got a shout out from someone there who saw my Hotter than Hell jersey and said, “GO TEXAS!” The back half of the island was beautiful. The extra elevation gain was there along with the wind. Thankful I didn’t have to deal with a lot of wind that day and I knew how to climb hills now so I didn’t let the back half deter me. I got to my special needs bag around mile 60 and reset my fuel. Checked my tires, they were ok so I rode on without the extra canisters or tubes placed within.

The final lap is soul sucking. You know what to expect which is a blessing and a curse. The ride through the city was uplifting; you just have to mentally will yourself to the next aide station and hope for some crazy fans out there to support you. Saw my brother and kids again; got the boost I needed but then had the east side of the island with the hill and unrelenting sun. I wanted to take in the scenery, the ocean was beautiful and the blue sea mixed with the blue sky only interrupted by the white ocean spray that crested and crashed into the rocky coast. I noticed the pack was thinning; there was a collective miserable feeling around everyone. I passed someone and he said, “you’re looking strong.” I muttered something back – I don’t know if it was comprehensible. I knew I was coming up on mile 90 and after mile 100 every mile after that would be a distance PR. It was also about this time that I noticed I was getting tired of eating my gels. No worries I told myself- I had packed a glorious PB&J sandwich in my T2 bag. I’d have real food soon. And there’d be more on the run course. I stopped at a final aide station around mile 100 to get more ice and water and sprayed myself down. The first table there had ran out of water bottles so I had to get off the bike and wait for them to get more water to pour into my bottles. The bike course was pretty sparse by then and things picked over. By the time I hit the bike in, I honestly don’t remember anything. I know I was able to get off the bike OK (surprising in and of itself), grab a bottle off my bike and my coach’s bike computer before handing over my bike to a volunteer. Total bike time: 6:49:04.

In the T2 changing tent, I looked around. It looked desolate. I checked the time – I seemed to be doing ok. I asked a volunteer what the local time was. It was early evening – about 4p. I had plenty of time. Did another full change out from bike clothes to run clothes. Chuckled to myself that I was feeling like Beyonce with all of her change of clothes. I was salt crusted and legs were dirty. Took 2 shower pills to clean off. I wanted to clean off to feel better. I wiped my face. I put on my hat, my running shoes, my running belt and grabbed my sandwich and headed out to start the final 26.2 miles of this race. Total time in T2: 19:34.

The Run

I got up and my feet HURT. My arches were super sore. I walked out of the tent and tried to calm my HR down. I felt dizzy. I grabbed water from a volunteer but didn’t feel any better. My watch chimed 30 seconds into the run. What the hell? I had thought I programmed it for a 90 second run and 30 second walk. NOPE. Forgot the last run I had was programmed from my 30 second sprint track workout and 3 minute walk. I attempted to change the intervals but my watch said I couldn’t change while an event was in progress. GRRR. I know what I had to do – this happened at my Houston Marathon where I didn’t have my watch intervals set correctly and had to do it manually – watching the time. It was going to be a long fucking run. While I had PRd my run in Houston that day, this was not going to happen today. It would however keep my mind “busy” and distracted from the feeling I was having while running. Funny because all day I was looking forward to the run and now I was trying to figure out how I was going to continue. Anyone that knows me knows that math isn’t my sweet spot. So my 90:30 run walk intervals weren’t always accurate. I gave myself grace. Didn’t matter. Go by feel. Get some food in you. I tried but my stomach started to heave. I made it 2 miles by this point and needed food ASAP. I recalled that if I couldn’t eat, to at least chew food and spit it out. Even taking food into my mouth made me gag. And my water bottle filled with electrolytes were equally painful to digest. I got dizzy again and tripped and almost fell but by the grace of God caught myself from falling flat on my face. Negative thoughts started creeping in. It was only 2 miles into a 26.2 mile run and I couldn’t eat or drink and was dizzy. I started looking for a medical tent. I never saw one. Honestly – the one time I did see a medic was the last 2-3 miles of my run and by that point, I wasn’t stopping! In looking around, I saw FTC teammate Julie on her run. She was running fast; I was walking. I said hi and she gave me a look that said, “this is miserable.” She was ahead of me and looked strong. Little did I know she crashed on the bike and was bleeding from her knee. She’s a total badass. Was that her first loop? Second? Third? Everyone looked fresh and running fast. I just kept looking at my watch, doing fuzzy math, putting one foot in front of the other.

Along the way, someone asked me if this was a 3 looped course. I said yes. Knowing that, I was near the turnaround by then and felt better for a bit. Around mile 6 or so, a supporter saw me and I guess I looked like death warmed over. He approached me as I walked and said, “Drink the flat Pepsi. Trust me runner. Drink it. And chase it with a lot of water. It will do miracles for you! I know this to be true!” I looked at him and said I can’t keep anything down. I was nervous if I drank it I would get sick. I didn’t want to get sick and get stuck in a medical tent. I just wanted to be done. But I ran off, got to the next table and took the Dixie cup of flat Pepsi and a small water pouch to chase it. It worked. I felt better. The sugar helped. I tried to eat- still nothing. Small bits of food here and there that I chewed and spat out. After the first loop, I felt a bit better.

I saw Gloria on the run while downtown. The crowd was festive. There were still plenty of people on the run. I would be ok. After the cheers of the crowd and the noise subsided, I started working on a game plan. That’s when my Garmin gave me a low battery warning. Shit. Shit shit shit. OK. New plan – focus on food. I saw a table with oranges and bananas and pretzels. I had an orange and it was glorious. Yes. FOOD! Then I got to the banana. Nope. Couldn’t stomach it. I nibbled, chewed and spat a half a banana out. More flat Pepsi and water. Would grab the pretzels on the way back. Realized I had to focus on my run/walk intervals if my watch died before I finished the race. I counted my steps for the run. 336 steps for 90 seconds of running; 26 steps for 30 seconds of rest. I did this several times before I realized running for 90 seconds was too much. My body was too weak. It was getting late and the sun setting. I approached the turn around and looked feverishly for the special needs tent for my bag at mile 13. I had more food in there but didn’t take it. I grabbed my head lamp but in hindsight I didn’t need it. I grabbed my light jacket thinking I would get cold as the night settled in, especially with the wind near the sea wall going back into town. I wrapped the jacket around me and kept running. Then my watch died around mile 14. Not that I was disappointed that I didn’t save my watch during the bike, but that I was running blind. No way to tell if my pace was going super slow or not.

I saw Joe twice on the run; both times it was when I was going the opposite direction back into town to complete my loops. He yelled to me, “You’ll finish – you have plenty of time. You’ll get yours.” I wanted to yell back- maybe I did? I can’t recall. I was in a dark place. You’d think going into town you’d pick up the excitement. Mine was the reverse. I hit my lowest point around miles 17-19. It was at this time that Gloria saw me coming into town and ran with me. She told me I was doing good. That she was proud of me. That I have 2.5 hours to finish one more lap. She was willing to get me anything I needed, do anything for me. I knew it was against IM rules to have someone run and walk beside you but I could not tell her no. Selfishly I needed her. She was my angel and my saving grace those miles. As we approached downtown, I told Gloria that she would not be allowed to run with me or be next to me. Shortly thereafter an IM official came up and told Gloria she needed to let me be. Gloria asked why and she was told the rule and after giving a very mad face to the volunteer, Gloria wished me well.

Being as tired and as dizzy as I was, I just wanted to quit. I felt horrible. I was right in town so if I wanted to quit, I could just walk up to my family and say, “I tried.” At one point I humored myself that I couldn’t quit because I had already bought things that said I was an Ironman at IM Village a few days before. That got me ahead mentally for a half mile or so. But I also just needed to be done. The run was more mental than anything. I had to give myself something to look forward to. Mile 20. That was the new goal. I could get to mile 20 and feel fine, I told myself. More oranges and bananas. I forced a banana down around that time, thinking I could vomit 6 miles and still finish. Still hard to drink my electrolytes so water, water, more water and flat Pepsi when I could stomach it. Spoke briefly to a guy who asked what lap I was on. I said my third. He was on his as well. I told him I was just looking for the damned turn around. He said he was as well. He looked strong and I told him so and wished him well.

There was a group of us that kinda stayed together. We were running and walking around the same pace. We didn’t talk to each other but it was good to know I wasn’t alone out there hurting. I could tell my pace slowed. I didn’t have a damn watch to tell but I knew I couldn’t keep up my pace from before so I ran from cone to cone. Walked the next set of cones. Repeat. When the turnaround came, I knew if I got to a 5k I’d be fine. And I sort of was ok until mile 24.

Seriously those last two miles were insanely hard. I strained to hear the roar of the crowd downtown which sounded a lot quieter. Even the loud band that played continuously for hours seemed to have relocated and moved closer to the finish. I needed something to get me by. I saw kind people on the street giving encouragement, “You’re so close!” “Don’t walk, run!” “You’re going to be an Ironman!” “Go, go, go!” That’s when I looked over and saw a medic on her phone. She wasn’t with anyone – just keeping herself busy. Where the F was she all day? Too late now to stop. Mile 25. Was I now going uphill? How long was this corridor? The band sounded like it was closer now and I could hear a guy on a loudspeaker now. “…..(inaudible name) ... You Are An IRONMAN!”

My thought process went something like this that last 1.2 miles: drink water. Dump all the food you have stuffed in your tri top bra. Fix your hair. Make it look like you didn’t just suffer for god knows however long you’ve been out here. And run like hell when you near the finish chute. I walked a good portion of that last mile just willing my brain to adjust to the new game plan. I inadvertently dropped my water, my lifeline. Damnit! I didn’t want to run with trash in my hand so I jumped a curb and threw it into a trash can and hopped down back onto the course. Ok. Jacket is around my waist and I don’t want it. I’m hot. I can’t toss it. Damnit – just hold it. I see a lady on my right who says, “You’ve got this! It’s just around the corner!” and that’s when I started to run. I mean, run like I meant it. I saw the red carpet and the lights. It was a party scene and I was ready to …… sit the fuck down. But first, that finish line. That glorious finish line. I looked up – did that time say 15 hours and something? I thought I was closer to 16 by my walking pace those last few miles. That gave me a bit of a pep in my step. I put my hand over my mouth – I started to tear up and then I heard, “That’s my sister!” and saw my brother Brian, Gloria, Kaia and my son Kyler with his hand stretched out to high five me. It was a brief second but that moment of seeing their faces and getting that final power boost from my son got me across that finish line.

I heard before I even crossed the finish, “Bethany Kilgore from McKinney, Texas – You are an Ironman!” and then I saw the ramp. A ramp! I had to go up and down that thing and not fall flat on my ass. I was depleted of food, water, electrolytes, and was high on adrenaline so by the time I crossed I walked gingerly across the threshold where some kind man grabbed my arm and guided me through the finisher chute. Total run time: 6:13:01. Total time at finish: 15:02:31.

Through the chute, my kind guide asked me, “Do you want water? Gatorade?” I said no. He said, “I bet you’ll never want another Gatorade for a few months.” I smiled. Then he told me I was going to receive my medal. Medal placed around my head; a few congrats. Ok. More walking. Then he said someone had to get my timing chip. Great. Next he asked if I wanted food. NOOOOO. No food. Ok, so he walked me to get my finisher shirt. I stood in a daze as someone handed me my finisher shirt. I looked around and noticed the line to get my finisher photo. Ugh. I didn’t have the energy to wait. Everyone looked so full of life. I wanted to sit. A nice lady helped me with my things, she fixed my visor which I always wear so low and held all of my sweaty things as I gave a few pained smiles. I saw the rendezvous spot to meet my family. I heard my name and got some hugs. I was super thankful to be done but fell like crap. I thought fresh clothes and sitting would make me feel better. After getting my clothes and changing (which took eternity with tons of foot cramps), I stood up and met my family on a bench. I couldn’t talk without fear of getting sick. I was still dizzy so I wanted to lay down. As soon as I tried to lay down I started dry heaving. Nothing would come but saliva. I knew I was in a bad way so my friend Gloria sought a medic while my brother and kids waited for Joe to finish. I got into a wheel chair and was admitted. It looked like a war zone. People messed up far worse than me. People with EKGs on their chest. Others getting massages from their cramped legs. The guy next to me screaming from his leg cramp getting worked out. I had a nurse come around asking if I was allergic to anything – “just penicillin” I said. She thought it was odd that the three people in bed next to each other were all allergic to penicillin. A nice doctor came over and said I was going to get an IV. A nurse came over and stuck my left arm. Nothing. Stuck my right arm and moved the needle around. Nothing. Had to call over someone else to get to my vein and finally got it in on top of my right hand. I was hot and didn’t want a blanket. I was in my sports bra and shorts that I had changed into along with my Oofos. It took a while to get the fluids in even halfway through and by then I started to get cold. I got an awesome space blanket and neck massage. I strained to hear my husband’s name called but it was busy and loud in the tent. I asked if the medic tent was busy now and the nurse said no, but that it was busy earlier – not enough beds to triage people to get in and get assistance. I got word that Joe crossed and was ok. I was upset that I couldn’t see him cross the finish line but was thankful I felt better at that point. I lulled off to sleep.

The kind doctor that attended to me let me know the medical tent was closing. My fluids weren’t all the way done but I was feeling better. I was thankful to see my family and Gloria waiting outside of the tent. I felt a LOT better. I was eager to shower and go home and sleep. I said my thanks and goodbyes to Gloria and we got a cab. Back at the resort, I told my brother to see if he could get something salty like fries and chips from the late night snack bar. He came back with fries and nachos. I couldn’t eat much but what I did tasted like food for the gods. Brian let Joe and I go to rest; I miraculously had enough energy to take a shower and rinse out all of our bike bottles before laying my head on the pillow. I looked over at the time. 3:25a. Exactly 23 hours of activity that day.

Was it worth it? Yes. It tested everything I had. I learned that Joe crossed about an hour after me with little to no training. And he didn’t need a medical tent. But he ran his race; I ran mine. We did what we each had to do and both became Ironmen that day. It’s been 5 days; I’m hard pressed to want to do this again whereas Joe is eager to go back next year. I’ll happily be his Sherpa!

What I’ve learned throughout this experience is that while this is a challenge of three sports for one person to complete, it’s a necessity to have a village of people that help you get to that finish line.

For everyone that has helped me with any of my training swim, bikes or runs

For the friends that have put up with my insane training schedule and understood that my absence from any social life was temporary (and forgave me when I unintentionally fell asleep at social gatherings when I did go out)

For my daughter who gave me grace when I missed more than half of her soccer games this fall and passed out around 7:30p on the couch during cuddle time

For my son who was patient in getting the adequate drive time in to help him earn his drivers license

Collectively for my kids who allowed their parents to do a race smack dab in the middle of our family vacation

For my coaches who put up with my incessant questions

For my brother’s family for their understanding while they were in the midst of moving into a new home and for my nephew for allowing me to take his dad away on his birthday. I needed my brother’s help post-race and to have fun with the kids while their parents were out doing a silly race

For my dear friend of 20 years Gloria who trekked across the Yucatan Peninsula and took a ferry to Cozumel to cheer me on for 15+ hours

And for my husband who made all the dinners, made all of the post-long weekend workout meals, and kept my insanity in check….

I thank you all.

(Above: my new favorite Christmas ornament next to some of my favorite ornaments: my kids, an old Santa - my grandfather’s who died of cancer, my best friend Lisa and I, and a Mexican sombrero ornament from 1997)

Above: The Kilgore’s enjoying a relaxing day visiting San Gervasio ruins on Cozumel island.... post-race

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ashleyinwondrland · 7 years

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In my heart of hearts, Ezra Fitz is still A

And this is my take on how it should’ve went down

After Mona went to Radley, Ezra was mad about which direction the book was going in (he was obsessed) so he became A so he could control the story and found it to be more exciting than just writing

He used it to track down Ali and hired Charlotte, and made her think that she was actually Uber A and was the master mind when he was really pulling the strings

He was obsessed with Aria more than the others and wanted to be able to keep her if everyone found out which is why he was slowly trying to isolate her from her friends

When she found out about the book Ezra had to take a break from being A or else they would connect the two, so he hired Shana and handed the reigns over to Charlotte for awhile and orchestrated himself getting shot (tho it wasn’t aimed well) to get back in Aria’s good graces

During the time he gave Charlotte, her working from France at first with Shana, Jenna and others doing her bidding, Charlotte became more obsessed with the power and Ezra lost control of the game

Then the doll house and all that happen

Ezra grows more angry during the flash forward because he still doesn’t have a good ending to his book, not without exposing himself, until Charlotte is released and all the girls are back

He realizes now it’s time to get back in the game but first he has a lose end, Charlotte whom he pushes off the bell tower when Charlotte threatens to tell Ali everything he did

Of course he couldn’t do all of this on his own, he needed someone else who was invested in the girls lives and had access he didn’t (to Radley specifically) and not just a minion, which is where Wren came in

Ezra knew about Wren and him flirting and kissing Spencer so when they happened to be sitting next to each other at a bar and started talking he slipped in that these Rosewood high school girls are such teases

Wren joined team A and gave Ezra access to whatever Radley files he needed and helped Charlotte be able to get in an out without questions

He was already obsessed with the Hastings so working with Charlotte was easy for Wren since she was related to them

It was Wren’s cabin that Ezra used, and also a secondary A head quarters just incase Ravenswood got found

Wren also had his own help, Melissa, who didn’t know quite what she was involved with but she knew it would protect Spencer and Ezra having found out about her burying Bethany when Melissa accidentally confessed it to Wren used it to blackmail her into becoming the Black Widow

As far as Melissa knew, Wren was also being blackmailed because he wanted to protect her and Melissa had no idea Ezra was behind it

Jump forward to when Ezra finally got back with Aria and everyone was happy, he knew it was time to finish the game, the last chapter Which is why he proposed to Aria and tried to rush her into getting married

In his mind she was as in love with him that she would forgive him for everything (which is why he brought the file into play to test her love for him) so as long as they were married she wouldn’t have to testify against him and would also be bound to him

Over time the things Mona had forgotten at Radley were coming back to her and she starts to go off her meds so she can remember

She doesn’t have all the pieces together when she accuses Ezra in front of everyone of being AD, and no one believes her but finding out she is off her medication they decide to get her help and don’t think twice about her accusations

Jump forward a year and Wren goes back to Radley to take care of Mona But Wren doesn’t have the strongest will and Mona convinces him that they need her (same as the show)

Ezra and Aria are about to get married and be all happy so Ezra surprises her with a new house, the one Toby built

Aria is so excited but what she doesn’t realize is the under ground bunker he built, where all his AD stuff is and also would be a comfy place if say your wife finds what you have been up to and you have to keep her somewhere

Spencer goes to the brew and finds Wren there arguing with Ezra in hushed tones (about not killing Mona) she had no idea they knew each other

She confronts them and they make a stupid lie about Ezra spilling coffee on Wren

She asks Wren what he is doing in town and he just says business and tell her he has to leave but they should catch up soon (did I mention the bunker as enough room for two ladies to live comfortably though Wren still isn’t sure which, Spencer or Melissa or hell even Hanna)

Ezra starts acting off, he knows he can’t trust Mona and doesn’t know what she knows, which Aria tries to dismiss as pre wedding jitters but he keeps trying to push up a wedding that’s only two days away

Aria goes to the new house to take some pictures as reference for when she is furniture shopping and such, she goes out back to the tool shed, notices the ground is uneven and finds a secret door in the ground

She goes under and finds everything but what she doesn’t know is Wren is already down there and he hits her over the head, then calls Ezra and tells him they have a problem

Ezra planned to tell Aria everything about the book on their honeymoon and if she reacted badly was going to claim and accident happened where she goes missing but keep her in the bunker (he had practice making someone go missing) but now Aria was in the bunker and he couldn’t just let her out

He goes to the bunker where Aria is terrified and won’t go near him, he thinks she just needs time to cool down

He takes her phone and sends a text to everyone saying “we can’t deal with the wedding stress and everyone arguing, we decided to leave for our honeymoon and elope. I’m sorry and we love you all”

He figures that will keep everyone busy for awhile while he tries to convince Aria to get on board, reminding her how she betrayed her friends for him and how their love story would go down in literary history

In the mean time, the girls are hurt Aria left to get married without them but they understand, except for Spencer who feels like things don’t add up because she had spoken to Aria just a couple hours before and she was excited for the wedding and Aria had invited Spencer and the others to the new house to show them, only giving them the address and not telling them the surprise

The girls all disperse, Emily and Ali talking about how they need to get home to the girls and Hanna to see if she can refashion the bridesmaids dresses into something she can show to a client, though after they leave Spencer realizes Emily’s Fitbit fell off and sends her a text that she will hold onto it til they see each other again and put it in her pocket

Spencer still goes, curious because she recognizes the address and then realizes it is the house Toby built, and even more confused when she sees Wren coming from the backyard and doesn’t even realize Ezra coming up behind her with a needle knocking her out

Spencer wakes up in a cell across from Aria, her phone missing and Ezra & Wren are just standing there

They explain they didn’t want things to work out like this, and once they calm down it is very comfortable and nice in the make shift home they built down in the bunker and when things were settled they could all move away to a much bigger place so the girls would have more room (because they can never actually leave and be free now)

Ezra leaves they each with a book incase they get bored, which is his finished manuscript including the ending he intends to make happen

They jump to the end and read that Ezra plans to be the hero, and pin the entire thing on Spencer, who became AD as a way to keep the girls together after realizing how much she missed them when they came back for Charlotte’s trial and used Charlotte’s death, who she killed, to keep them in Rosewood

He planned to make it seem like Spencer followed them on their honeymoon, making one last use out of Melissa by having her getting on a plane as Spencer so they had her on the flight manifest, and tried to kill Ezra for taking Aria away while confessing she was AD and Ezra, in self defense, pushes her off the side of a cliff

Aria freaks out after reading it while Spencer continues to read through the book, looking for clues about how to get out

Meanwhile, the others grow concerned they haven’t heard from Aria, who should’ve landed and always texts after a flight or Spencer, who wasn’t at home when they checked

Mona shows up and tells them AD is back and is ready to end the game, for good and she knows at least one person helping is Wren but she doesn’t know who AD is yet

They realize at least Spencer was kidnapped and after Caleb can’t pin point her cell phone Emily remembers Spencer has the Fitbit and maybe they can track her with that (might have to bend reality) and Caleb is able to find a location, the house Toby built

The gang minus Mona make their way over, meanwhile Spencer and Aria are trying to break out, Aria tosses Spencer a bobby pin which Spencer can barely reach but manages to get it just before Ezra comes back

He asks how far they are in the book and what they think of it so far, he actually sounds genuine for their feedback

Realizing this is the only chance they might have, Aria tried to distract him by asking him questions about the book while Spencer quietly works on the lock and manages to open it

While Ezra is still facing Aria, Spencer uses her copy to knock him over the head though she knows he won’t be down for long so she opens Aria’s cage and they run not realizing they have no where to go

Above ground, the others get to the house and start to look around when Toby sees the shed and mentions he didn’t build a shed, and why would someone build a new shed before anything else

When they open the shed they see Wren inside who is starting to open the trap door who tries to make a run for it but Hanna manages to trip him and he hits his head on a rock

The guys work on tying him up while the girls look for Spencer, thinking Wren is AD and the bunker would be safe now and they come across Ezra who looks dazed and convinces them that AD kidnapped Aria and himself and that the girls have to get out of the bunker before AD comes back

He starts to lead them out when they run into Spencer and Aria who yell that he is AD, Ezra acts quickly and grabs Ali as a hostage while pulling out a knife

He tells them all to get back to the cells or Ali dies, then tells Ali this whole messes started with her so it should end with her

Behind him is the sound of a gun cocking, aimed right at his head, Mona says “actually this started with me, and I am going to be the one to finish it”

Ezra drops the knife and let’s go of Ali as the police come rushing in and Emily rushes forward to grab Ali

Ezra and Wren are taken into custody, where the both face charges of extortion, stalking, kidnapping, murder, building a creepy bunker without a permit and statutory rape

The girls all agree it’s time to finally leave Rosewood, for good

Forgive me if this sucks, I wrote this during my lunch break on my phone so there may be plot holes by the dozen and grammatical errors but I did this quickly

And I don’t get paid for it nor have years to plan it out but thats another story

#pretty little liars #pll #ezra fitz #Ezra fitz is a #pll alternate ending #wren kingston #melissa hastings #charlotte dilaurentis #cece drake #aria montgomery #spencer hastings #hanna marin #emily fields #alison dilaurentis #mona vanderwaal #anti ezra fitz #anti ezria #ezra is a.d.#ezra is uber a

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abrahamwebster · 4 years

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Reiki Master Glasgow Sublime Cool Tips

Reiki is the main advantages that one of the Root chakra, Navel chakra, Solar Plexus Chakra is described below.Many practitioners will talk about the reiki power symbols are sacred healing symbols it was first starting out.You will instinctively know while you lie awake at night, tossing and turning with your reiki master can regulate and affect the flow of energy so that you sign up for a healing at the end of the Reiki share with my Reiki could be accessed and channel pure ki to him by one student who will work down to Bethany, CT.You may also provide information about them without knowing how to carry out the desired area of the body

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Reiki Healing Dallas

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Reiki Therapy In Bhopal

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#Reiki Master Glasgow Sublime Cool Tips #Reiki Healing Music

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biofunmy · 5 years

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How to Choose the Right Rug

For a living room to feel pulled together, most designers will tell you, it needs a rug.

But rugs can be expensive. And because a large-scale item like that is going to have a big effect on the way a room looks and feels, choosing one can be intimidating. The right rug may live in your home for decades. The wrong rug will serve as a daily reminder of the money you wasted — and the money you’ll have to spend if you want to replace it.

And getting it wrong is all too easy, given the range of materials, colors, patterns and sizes available. Finding the ideal rug, observed the New York-based interior designer Celerie Kemble, is a “complicated puzzle.”

To help you solve that puzzle, we asked Ms. Kemble and other designers and rug manufacturers for advice.

Use One or a Few

There is no rule that says you have to limit yourself to a single rug in the living room. Designers often use multiple rugs in larger rooms to define different areas. So how do you know whether one or a few is best?

Smaller spaces, and living rooms enclosed by walls and doorways, usually benefit from a single large rug.

“I’m often dealing with apartments where the goal is to expand the sense of usable space in a living room,” Ms. Kemble said. In those cases, “I usually want to use one rug, and make it as big as I possibly can.”

Sprawling, open-concept spaces, like lofts, are more likely to benefit from multiple rugs, which help ground disparate groupings of furniture and can be used to separate a living area from a dining or media area, in the absence of walls.

Can’t Decide? Then Layer Them

Another option is to layer rugs on top of each other, with a single large, plain rug on the bottom to cover most of the floor, and smaller decorative rugs on top to anchor different seating areas.

“One of my favorite tricks is to use a very big sisal rug, which is relatively inexpensive, and then layer softer, plusher kilims or dhurries on top at the seating areas,” Ms. Kemble said. “It tells everybody, by the enormity of the sisal, that you’re all at the same party.”

Determine the Size

It is important to work around a room’s obstructions when planning a rug purchase.

“We always start with the practical and then get to the decorative, while considering the architecture and mechanics” of a home, said Jesse Carrier, a principal of Carrier and Company, a New York interior design firm. “Are there doorways and door swings to consider? Is there any floor grille for HVAC that you don’t want to cover? Is there a fireplace where you have to deal with a hearth?”

After taking these details into account, consider circulation around the seating areas.

“There’s nothing worse than being forced to walk on the perimeter of a rug,” Ms. Kemble said, with one foot on and one foot off.

Choose a size that either completely covers the walkway or leaves the floor exposed where people need to pass by. Then decide how far beyond the furniture the rug should extend. A common way to size a rug is to ensure that it reaches underneath all four feet of all the furniture.

Or you could use a smaller rug that runs under the front feet of the sofas and chairs, and stops there. Just make sure that smaller objects at the rug’s edges, like end tables and floor lamps, are completely on or off the rug, Mr. Carrier said: “You don’t want unbalanced, rocking end tables every time you put something down.”

What about small rugs that float in the center of a room, untethered by sofa and chair legs? Many experts advise against them.

“Small rugs look a little bit lost and unfinished,” said Susanna Joicey-Cecil, the marketing director for the Rug Company, in London. “It can feel like a postage stamp, which is not so pleasing for the eye.”

Choose Patterned or Plain

A boldly patterned rug can serve as the defining feature of a living area, but because it has so much impact, it’s a choice that requires courage. Deciding whether to go with a graphic statement rug or something more understated comes down to personal preference, as well as your overall design vision and where your home is.

“In the city, oftentimes clients will want to invest in an antique carpet from an auction or one of the great rug vendors as a showpiece,” Mr. Carrier said. But in country homes and beach houses, “we’ll often do some sort of sisal, sea-grass or coir carpet, because it’s a little more informal and rustic.”

If you decide to shop for a patterned rug, there are endless choices available, from free-form contemporary designs to more traditional ones. But if you’d rather keep it simple, there are plenty of opportunities to introduce pattern at a smaller scale.

“For more laid-back, Zen environments, there are fantastically beautiful sisals with patterns in them, like herringbones and subtle stripes,” said Richard Mishaan, a New York-based interior designer. “To dress them up a bit, add a fabulous binding in leather or suede. It doesn’t increase the price enormously, but it’s very chic and beautiful.”

Pick a Material

Rugs come in many materials, including plant-based fibers like cotton, linen, sisal, jute and allo; downy, natural fibers like wool, silk and mohair; and synthetic materials like nylon and solution-dyed acrylic. There are also nonwoven rugs made from stitched-together materials like cowhide.

Each offers a different look and feel, with varying characteristics related to how well the materials wear and how easy they are to clean. They also range widely in price.

Rugs made from plant-based materials are often among the most affordable and offer an easy, casual look. But different fibers have different durability: Cotton and linen, for instance, age fairly quickly, while sisal and allo can take more abuse.

“We’ve had some disasters with linen,” Mr. Carrier said, “which is very, very beautiful” — at least when it’s new. But because it is easily damaged by wear and spills, he added, “we’ve had to replace a lot of linen rugs in our time, and now avoid them like the plague.”

Allo, on the other hand, is “very cleanable and doesn’t retain stains,” he said.

One of the most popular materials is wool, which can offer a range of looks depending on how it’s handled, from thin, flat weaves to hairy, hand-knotted shags. Wool tends to be more expensive than most plant-based materials, but it is stain resistant, softer underfoot and durable enough to last for centuries.

“Wool has lanolin in it, which makes it a very cleanable, stain-resistant fiber,” said Bethany Hopf, a sales manager at the House of Tai Ping carpet company, in New York. “When you spill, it sits on top for a little while before it will actually absorb,” which gives you time for cleanup.

Even when a spill soaks in, she said, “we have a lot of success getting stains out.”

The same cannot be said for silk, which is generally more expensive and delicate, but has a softer feel and a lustrous sheen. Some upscale rugs are made entirely from silk, while others combine wool and silk to create various effects.

In patterned rugs, “very often we have a wool background and then highlight the motif with silk, because it helps it pop,” said Ms. Joicey-Cecil, of the Rug Company. “You can have lots of fun playing with those two textures, because the silk has a lot of sheen to it.”

But Ms. Kemble cautioned that mixed-fiber rugs can be difficult to clean: “Silk can’t take water, but wool needs water to be cleaned. So when you have silk-and-wool mixes, it creates hard-to-sort problems once there’s a spill.”

Consider Indoor-Outdoor Options

If spills and stains from children and pets are a concern, it may be a good idea to choose an indoor-outdoor rug made from a synthetic material like solution-dyed acrylic, polypropylene or PET (polyethylene terephthalate), which are now often so soft and appealing that they can be hard to distinguish from indoor-only materials.

“They’re impenetrable: You can’t stain them; you can’t ruin them,” said Mr. Carrier, who replaced a wool rug with a nylon one in his own home when his children were younger, then switched to sisal when they grew up. “In certain applications, that’s the way to go.”

Don’t Forget the Rug Pad

It’s tempting to bring a rug home and put it down immediately, but there’s a step you shouldn’t skip: putting a nonslip rug pad underneath.

Cut the pad to a size slightly smaller than the carpet. A general rule is that it should be trimmed about an inch shorter than the rug on all sides, to provide maximum grip while preventing a visible change in level where the rug transitions from pad to floor.

Rug pads offer a touch of additional cushioning, Ms. Hopf said. But their real utility is more “about keeping it in place and preserving the life of the carpet,” she said.

In other words, it ensures that your new rug won’t slide like a banana peel.

For weekly email updates on residential real estate news, sign up here. Follow us on Twitter: @nytrealestate.

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artsynanotech · 6 years

Text

Rebuilding

Part 3: Civility

(Part 1) - (Part 2)

-------------------

Alden didn't have just one library. He had several, spread amongst multiple rooms on the second floor of his haven. Isaac found Ares in one just to the left of the stairs, collapsed back in a lounge chair, staring at the ceiling. Isaac had a pretty good guess for what was running through his grandchilde's mind.

Grandchilde. Ugh. Isaac was too young to be a grandsire. Especially for this particular kindred. It wasn't hard to imagine what Ares was going through. He was a fledgling again. There were bound to be growing pains. It didn't make Ares' inability to control himself less of a problem, but at the same time Isaac couldn't say it wasn't expected. Isaac leaned against the frame of the door and waited to see if Ares would notice him. Ares didn't make any indication that he did. Was he ignoring Isaac? Isaac's eyebrow twitched slightly. He was really too young to be dealing with this. "I'm your ride home, so unless you plan on spending all day in that chair, you should probably consider getting up." Isaac didn't move from his position in the door way. Ares heaved himself into an upright position. He glanced briefly at Isaac. "Where's Scott?" "Trying to pacify the good lady took longer than expected. He's still got to work out domain requests and bring those to Maxwell for approval." "I can't just wait for him to finish?" Ares stared down at his lap. His hair fell down in front of his eyes. "You and I both know it's better if you don't." Ares kept his gaze lowered. Isaac could practically smell the self pity in the air. For a moment he considered walking over and pulling Ares out of the chair himself, but that would require more investment in the situation than Isaac was willing to put forth. Isaac waited for a minute or so. That was about the limit of his patience, and he pushed himself off the door frame to leave. "Wait." Ares finally stood up. "I'll go. I... I'm sorry." Isaac didn't bother responding. He led Ares silently down the stairs and out of Elysium. The kindred gathered in the parlor were already gossiping about the angry shouts they'd heard coming from the Toreador meeting.

------

While the drive to Scott's apartment wasn't any less awkward than the conversation in the library, at least Isaac had a radio he could drown out the silence with. He found the first thing that that was coming in clearly - one of those sappy love song call-in shows - and turned it up to a volume that was testing the limits of acceptable. Ares spent the entire time staring blankly out the windshield. The fifteen minute ride seemed more like thirty. Isaac wanted nothing more than to speed home after dropping Ares off, but when they finally pulled up to the curb outside Scott's building, Ares didn't get out. He sat there, hands clenched in his lap, eyes closed in thought. Isaac clenched his jaw and swallowed the urge to snap at Scott's childe. "Hey, um... Isaac?" Ares turned a nervous gaze towards him. "I know you don't like me. That's fine. And I know I'm Scott's responsibility, not yours. But I... I need your help. So is it okay to ask for it?"

Isaac considered that for a moment. Ares wasn't a bad kid. Was he to blame for nearly everything that had gone wrong in the city? Certainly. Was he Toreador material? Most definitely not. But he wasn't a bad kid. "Okay, here's the deal." Isaac put the car in park and turned to face Ares. "You're right. I don't like you. Being around you almost killed my childe. Your family tore this city apart. Bethany's dead, and that's as good as your fault in my book." Isaac paused. He let Ares sit on those words for a few seconds. He watched what little color Ares' face had slowly drain as his fists clenched just a little tighter. Ares shifted his weight towards the door, but just as he was about to open it, Isaac spoke again. "But you're still Scott's childe, and like it or not, you've saved my life twice over. So yes, you can ask me for help. Of course I reserve the right to turn you down if you're asking too much." Ares turned his gaze to Isaac, eyes wide with disbelief. "Really? I didn't think you'd actually... I mean, Thank you!" He smiled. Looking at that, it wasn't hard to see why Scott fell for him. Even Isaac had to admit there was something unnervingly endearing about that smile. It was honest in a way most kindred didn't know how to be. "Don't get sappy on me know. Let's take this inside. Whatever you need, I doubt my car is the best place to talk about it."

Ares nodded. Isaac pulled into the apartment building's parking lot - there was no sense leaving his car on the curb - and locked it up as Ares looked for his key ring. The building was an old Victorian style affair, with painted floral molding over the windows. There weren't all that many rental units in it, but even then Isaac couldn't help but notice there were less cars there than when Scott had first moved in. "When'd it get so empty?"

"After that blood hunt Scott got caught up in, I think. They started leaving after that." Ares finally fished the keys out of his jacket pocket. "It's driving the landlady up the wall. But 'too much weird shit happening around you' isn't a valid reason to evict someone, and Scott always has the rent on time, so there's not much she can do about it."

That wasn't surprising, though Isaac didn't think the topic needed any further comment. Ares led him through the building's front door and down the stairs to Scott's basement studio. There was a large package next to the door, sealed up with USPS packing tape. A plastic dish filled with sugar cookies rested on top. A bright green sticky note was stuck to it. Isaac picked everything up while Ares got the door. The note was written in the shaky, yet still refined script of an elderly woman.

Dear boys, it read. The mailman left this out for you, but it was raining to I thought I'd bring it in until you both got home. Have a good night!

"That's Mrs. Reith, on the first floor." Ares explained. "Scott cleaned off her car a couple times this past winter and now she loves him. He usually pawns the cookies off on Ricardo." Well at least someone in the building still liked them, Isaac thought. He looked at the package underneath the Tupperware. It was addressed to Scott from one of the art supply stores he liked. It had a bit of weight to it, and if he had to guess it was probably a new batch of dry clay. Isaac smiled. It looked like, despite all the new responsibilities on his plate, Scott still had time for his art.

Ares let Isaac in first so he could set the mail down. Scott's kitchen had been converted into a passable studio space, with a kiln set up where the stove would be and extra shelving in place of a refrigerator. The actual stove was shoved against a wall with a board thrown over the top for much needed counter space. Isaac wasn't sure what Scott ended up doing with the fridge. Either way, there wasn't much room for extra storage, so Isaac shoved the box up against the wall for Scott to open later.

Isaac plopped himself down in one of the kitchen chairs, leaned against the back, and crossed his arms. Ares sat across from him, shoulders hunched forward as he stared down at the table. Did he even know what proper poster was? Not that Isaac was one to talk, but at least his own slouching looked confident. He waited for Ares to work up the nerve to speak. The silence was grating.

"It's about the feeding thing." Ares blurted out the syllables like one single, garbled word. "I don't know how to make the hunger stop. I'm trying, I really am. But when I'm feeding it's so loud I can barely think."

"And you need my help with this... why?" Isaac couldn't say this was unexpected, but it also wasn't his problem.

"Because Scott doesn't get it." Ares' face flushed with the slightest hint of color. "It's so easy for him, you know? 'Just don't listen to it,' he says, like the beast is some sort of whisper. But he's had eleven years to get used to it. And I've only been feeding off actual people for a few months..."

Isaac took a moment to consider that. He'd assumed Ares' lack of control came from a hard reset, for lack of a better term, of his vampiric curse. The thought that Ares might have never fed directly from a human had never occurred to Isaac. He'd always assumed that, with the myriad of ghouls and human staff Giovanni kept around, that finding fresh blood was never an issue for them. Especially if a ghoul's blood bond made them accept the pain of a Giovanni kiss willingly. But if Ares had abstained from the pleasure of fresh blood for, what would it be... forty-some-odd years? Well it was no wonder his beast was reveling in the indulgence.

Isaac chose to ignore what that abstinence said about Ares' character.

"If it makes you feel better, I'm pretty certain Scott's beast is actually a whisper." Not that Isaac cared if Ares felt better, but he wasn't going to deliberately antagonize his grandchilde. Not when he'd agreed to help. "He's never had a problem controlling his hunger, even when I first embraced him. Hell, he was so embarrassed by how good his first meal felt that he stopped feeding before the guy even lost consciousness."

"He was embarrassed?" "He was moaning so loud you'd think he'd creamed himself with that first bite. It's probably different with you, but he normally doesn't like people seeing him like that. Once he realized what he'd done he dropped his meal like a hot potato." Isaac chuckled softly. He missed those early days. Scott had been an easy childe, full of curiosity and determination towards his new existence. Isaac couldn't have asked for better.

The corners of Ares mouth curled upward ever so slightly. "That's... adorable. And he'd probably kill you if he finds out you told me."

"Which means you're never going to tell him. Call it a fair trade for my advice here."

Ares nodded. "So what do I do? Regular meals aside, I'm worried that when Scott and I... well, you know..." His face turned a slightly brighter shade of red. "It's loud then too. Accidentally killing a human? I'd hate it, but it's not like I haven't dealt with that before. But if I accidentally di... diab... If I took too much from Scott? I'd watch a sunrise before letting that happen."

Of course they were feeding on each other. Scott didn't have the good judgment to avoid it. Isaac closed his eyes and held back the urge to snap at Ares. He tried to remember what Alden had said to him on the subject. It honestly wasn't that helpful, something more along the lines of the 'just don't listen' advice Scott had given Ares. Learning to feed responsibly had come more with practice than anything. "Okay, here's what I think." Isaac opened his eyes and leaned forward on the table. "Never let yourself get too hungry. You should be full after going down on that Carlos kid, right? Maintain that. You use your blood for anything, even just rising at night, and you replenish it right then. The beast won't be as loud if you're only missing a few cups worth. When you get used to that try letting it go for longer. And,” Isaac narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice, “If I hear anything, and I mean anything about you hurting Scott, even unintentionally, I'll heave you into the sun myself. Is that clear.” “Crystal.”

“Good.” Isaac pushed himself up from the table. “Is that it? Because there are a thousand other things I'd rather be occupying myself with right now, and most of them involve pretty women. Seeing as you are not one, I think I'll take my leave.” “All right.” Ares got up, walked to the door, and unlocked it for Isaac. “Thanks for the advice. I'll... I'll do my best to follow it.”

“Don't mention it.” Isaac stopped in front of Ares and gave him one last, biting stare. “Really. Don't. I'm not doing this for your benefit.” “But you're still doing it.” Isaac rolled his eyes and took a step out into the hall. “Good night, Ares.” “Good night, Isaac.”

#IC #Rebuilding #NPC: Isaac Baum #Vampire: the Masquerade #VtM #World of Darkness #WoD #Toreador

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incensus-nix · 6 years

Text

.: some certainty :.

❝ It’s still pretty wild to me that you chose to stay out here instead of goin’ back to the vault. ❞ Preston sat over a campfire cooking station, next to the river that broke the land between Sanctuary Hills settlement and the rest of the Commonwealth, picking at a piece of brahmin jerky and biting off the corners, chewing it slowly.

Linda held a cup of hubflower tea with both hands, leather gloves resting on the boulder next to her, shifting her posture while seated on it’s flat surface. ❝ It’s a bit scary, still, I have to admit... ❞

Preston huffed a laugh, then nodded his head. ❝ Yeah, you’re not wrong about that. But you were safer there than out here. People probably think you’re nuts. ❞

❝ Well, I -- um... ❞ She didn’t know what to say to that, adverting her eyes and biting her bottom lip.

Realizing he may have said something wrong, Preston quickly spoke out, ❝ S-sorry! I didn’t mean like, actually crazy, just, er -- ❞

❝ It’s okay! ❞ Linda laughed nervously, sipping from the mug, the tea more lukewarm than anything now after holding onto it for sometime. ❝ I just feel like I might be a little bit, too. It’s been a tough adjustment. ❞

He felt bad, mostly due to the pressure he put on her to join his cause. Even more so taking the mantle of General of the Minutemen, since he so failed at doing the job himself and she successfully saved them out of Concord. She had yet to fail them, while he was there when they did back in Quincy. Everything that she was, was the completely opposite of himself.

❝ Do you want to go back? ❞ He asked, tossing the rest his jerky into the fire. It tasted terrible anyway.

❝ To the vault? I don’t think I should... ❞

He shook his head. ❝ If you weren’t having to handle the Minutemen, would you? ❞

She felt uncomfortable, bringing her knees up to her chest and hugging them around with her mug still in hand. ❝ That seems a little unfair to ask... ❞

❝ I’m not trying to make you feel bad, I just... I put this on you, I know I did. I was eager to find someone like you and you came through. I know I got really, uh, enthusiastic? ❞ He took off his brown leather hat and held it by his fingertips between his legs, looking down at the ground. ❝ You saved our asses way back and I just knew you had something in you I didn’t. ❞

Pushing her lips to the side, she hummed in thought, trying to find the right thing to say. ❝ It... means a lot that you think that of me, Preston. ❞

His dark eyes looked up, giving her a faint smile, though it faded as quickly as it came. ❝ It just feels like I forced you out of something you weren’t ready for. ❞

❝ I don’t think any of us were ready for this. ❞ Linda set her cup next on the ground and anxiously itched the outside of her hand. ❝ Hiding away in a vault and pretending everything was alright wasn’t the right thing to do. And... ❞ Her honey colored eyes looked to his, squinting a bit as she forced a gentle smile. ❝ I want to help people. You showed me how to do that, instead of being scared in a whole in a mountain. ❞

❝ Well, you’re the one that decided to leave one day and get caught in a situation. ❞ The way she looked at him made him feel warm. There was this sweetness about her that always radiated out and affected everyone she spoke to, even the hardest of folks.

❝ Hey! ❞ She laughed, the shook her finger at him. ❝ And you say I did all the saving. You were the one pulling all the heroics. ❞

❝ I never took on a Deathclaw with a minigun before -- ❞

❝ I got a little bit of bravery in me yet! ❞ Her cheeks rested into her palms, elbows resting into her knees now more at ease with their conversation.

Preston enjoyed their talks like this. They always often seemed to happen in the twilight of the night, by these small fires at the edges of towns and settlements. At least they were at the comfort of home here, as well. It felt like things were really going their way, for once.

❝ So, being general isn’t too much for you? ❞ He decided to bring the conversation back, making sure she wasn’t purposefully avoiding the question.

There was a bit of silence before she could answer, formulating the answer in her head. ❝ I guess I said yes for a reason. Maybe I’m never going to truly be ready, but... I think I have to be. ❞ There was an assuring nod towards him. ❝ Being stuck in that vault, I wasn’t doing anything but surviving. Out here... I’m helping. I see all the faces we help and give them back their lives. That’s the greatest purpose in the life we were given, right? ❞

❝ You know, most people think they’re just surviving out here and dream of getting themselves a space in a vault... ❞

❝ They’d be pretty disappointed. Not that I can’t say I don’t miss those comfy pillows, though... Even the ones we’ve got here don’t exactly compare. ❞ She watched Bethany tear apart a teddy bear to restuff her pillow the other day and Linda actually felt some disappointment seeing the toy animal get unstitched.

❝ I’m just glad to here you’re good out here, General. ❞ He meant those words, his own worries seemed to have subsided a bit.

❝ I’m good because I’ve got someone to always have my back. I think I’d be toast on my own. ❞

❝ I thought you just said you’ve got a bit of bravery in you? ❞ He teased, pointing his hat at her.

Unwrapping her arms from her knees, she stretched a bit and shook her head. ❝ Yes! I did say that, but no bit of bravery stops a bullet. ❞

It was meant to be a light joke, but it seemed neither one of them in the end found it funny. It was how so many of their numbers had passed away. Just because someone was brave didn’t mean they were going to survive in the wastes of the postwar world. Bravery even got them killed for trying. A lot of times, they just equated bravery with stupidity. One was just better off being lucky, since that’s all people rely on on nowadays.

❝ What do you say we put out this fire and head back inside for the night? ❞ Preston already decided it was what he was wanting to do, settling his hat back onto his head and standing up from his log stump of a seat.

❝ I guess that’s a good idea. ❞ Linda was enjoying the night for the most part, but suppose if he wasn’t invested in the time anymore, she wasn’t so much either.

Gathering water from the river from an old rusted bucket they kept next to the fire, Preston put out the simmering flames, a cloud of vapor rising from the pit in a sizzle, then dying down with the rest of the sunlight from the previous day.

Looking up at the sky, the darkness was met with a litter of starlight glimmering across the night. It was a beautiful sight, something she missed out on for almost her entire life in Vault 81. Most residents never left, not unless there were the brave, and stupid few, that chose to go on supply runs. But there were always less coming back than left.

❝ You know, I read somewhere in a book about this thing the Old World had called light pollution. ❞ Preston said, seeing how Linda was lost looking up at the Milky Way’s glittering path.

❝ Oh? What’s that? ❞ Linda asked, her eyes still peeled upwards.

Preston cleared this throat, trying to pull any information he had on the topic from memory. ❝ It was.... Well, I guess back in the Old World, they produced so much artificial light, that you couldn’t see the stars at night. I guess the light from the cities made it too hard to see the stars up there. Like it was polluted, like the air and water. I guess some people could only make out to about a hundred. At least a lot less than this, for sure.❞

Linda’s expression saddened. ❝ That’s awful... Why would anyone want to miss out on this? ❞

❝ I guess there was a point they didn’t know what they were missing out on. And if they were curious, that had this... Planetariums? A place that you could look at the sky in a big room. Like a movie. ❞

❝ Maybe that’s not so bad... But it’s not the real thing, is it? ❞

Preston nodded, turning his gaze back down to Linda. ❝ Not even close. ❞

Staring up a little bit longer, Linda connected a few more points of light and created pathways in her mind, then noticed Preston wasn’t looking up with her anymore, but rather at her. She looked down to him, giving a nervous smile. ❝ What is it? ❞

His cheeked reddened, thought it was impossible to see in the nightlight, adverting his stare. ❝ Nothing -- ❞ Linda smiled a bit, tussling her auburn hirt a bit, fidgeting as she did when she was lost for words. ❝ We should get back. ❞

A few quick nods, taking her gloves up from the boulder seat and stuffing them into her general’s uniform. Linda inched herself closer in the cover Preston’s company, and reaching for his arm. Gladly having her take it, he escorted her back to one of the pastel blue houses near the giant tree cul-de-sac.

Together, they entered the home, setting heir coats and hats on the three legged coat tree, the wood seen better days but sturdy enough for their belongings. Loosening his scarf and a few of a top buttons of his shirt, Preston dragged his feet into the bedroom, kicking off his boots at the edge of the bed as he plopped himself down at it’s foot, sighing a bit in relaxation.

Linda, taking more time to unwind, straightened up a few things in the bathroom, washing her face with a bar of soup and a can of military grade purified water, a habit she picked up in the vault, untrusting of the water systems yet still.

Arriving back to the bedroom, Linda eyed Preston a moment, her face reddening a bit. He was always so put together and dressed, seeing him slightly disheveled and relaxed was a rare sight. She wasn’t entire used to this life, especially with him. In truth, Bethany forced them in the same living space due to lack of room to spread over the entire settlement. When they both protested, unsure of themselves at the time, Bethany merely told them to deal with it or sleep on the floor. Preston nearly volunteered for Linda’s sake, but it didn’t take them long to realize it wasn’t too bad an idea to share the space. They certainly didn’t mind the other’s company...

❝ What up’s, general? ❞ Preston noticed her expression, Linda quickly covering her cheeks and shaking her head.

❝ I’m just -- being me, that’s all! ❞ It was a very common statement thrown around now. Linda was an easy read with expressions. Even Danse got teased once for showing a less than professional look and told he looked like Linda’s face, until he backed away and left the room. Of course, she was the one that never lived it down. She accepted it, even. At least she saw nothing wrong with being genuine.

Scooting over at the edge of the bed, he made room for Linda to join him, she immediately doing so and crossing her ankles as she got seated. Bringing a knuckle to her chin, Preston lifted her face up to his, then placed a light, chaste kiss upon her lips, releasing slowly so he could take her taste and scent it. There was still a hint of hubflorwer tea there.

❝ What was that for? ❞ She asked, though hardly in protest.

He shrugged, giving a shy chin. ❝ Just seemed like the right thing to do in the moment? ❞

She blushed, turning away. ❝ I always feel like I’m doing it wrong. ❞

Preston couldn’t help but laugh at that. ❝ Alright, how so? ❞ He knew there had to be a story with that.

❝ Oh gosh, well, I, um -- ❞ She shook her head in her hands, now truly embarrassed. ❝ So this one time in vault, and don’t judge me, but I kissed a boy I liked. He told me I was eating him and told on me to the Overseer. I didn’t get in a lot of trouble, but they told me I wasn’t old enough to kiss boys, so I just decided I couldn’t stand myself after that so I just never did again. I mean, until, you know. You. ❞

Preston seemed slightly dumbfounded. ❝ You’re tellin’ me you haven’t kissed anyone since you were a kid in the vault? ❞

❝ Ugh! I shouldn’t have said anything! This is so awkward. Please, don’t tell the others, they’re going to make fun of me. And I’ll have to move to a different city and change my name -- ❞

❝ Linda! Relax, it’s not bad, it’s just... surprising. That’s all. ❞ He laughed, still a bit at her expense but mostly because of her reaction now. ❝ Would’ve never guessed -- ❞

❝ Oh, that’s a lie! You’re not as good as Shades McCool, sorry... ❞ She tried her jab back, but it was a little lame sounding as most of her insults were.

❝ Alright, maybe a little bit. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s, uh, not like I’ve spend a lot of my free time, y’know... I mean, it’s the Commonwealth and all, but I’m not like, that kind of guy... You feel me? ❞

Linda squinted with a snarky grin. ❝ Not that kind of guy, huh? ❞

❝ Hey, I’m not saying I’m a vet here, but I’m not a rookie either, babe. ❞

She liked it when he reverted from general to babe. She liked being more personal with him over the formalities.

❝ I guess I have some catching up to do... ❞

❝ Nah, I might get a little jealous if I’m only a stepping stone for the next sucker. ❞ He nudged her, making her she still knew he was speaking lightheartedly.

❝ I never thought you the type. You seem very put together. You’d get mad if I bat my lashes at Danse? ❞ She mimicked what she would do, but far more dramatically with her lips pushed together and eyelashes flapping open and closed.

❝ Really, that guy? I’d be more jealous if you flirted with a Protectron. ❞

❝ I’ll unbutton a few next time I’m around Takahashi. Maybe he’ll give me a discount, even. ❞ She attempted to act that out at well, poorly making an attempt to be sexy and more awkward as she fumbled over her collar buttons.

Preston watched her attempt to mess with her shirt, but he just rolled his eyes and put a hand over hers. ❝ You can stop anytime and ask for help. ❞

She threw her hands down, then crossed them over her chest, giving a stubborn huff. ❝ Hmph. What if I don’t want any? ❞

He still made his attempts to unbutton the first three on her blouse, then rested a hand on her arm. ❝ There, now you don’t have to. ❞

Messing with the loose threads of her shirt now, she stopped joking around, licking her bottom lip as she tried to wrap the thread around her pinky finger. ❝ Will you always help me, even when I don’t ask for it? ❞

❝ Yes. ❞ His answer was quick and certain. His hand that rested over her arm was now placed upon her jawline, his thumb gracing gently over her cheek. ❝ Yes, I will always be here to help you. ❞

❝ Thank you. ❞

❝ Of course. ❞

____

It wasn’t until the sun shining brightly through their window did either one of them stir. Linda was wrapped up in the blanket, the air a little brisk with the draft from the damaged walls around them. Preston has no trouble, rolling over onto his side and grabbing for Linda in a morning hug.

❝ Mornin’ ❞

She turned over herself, finding that her lips on his like two magnets being pulled together. Laying like that for a few moments, her lips parted as her lashes fluttered awake to see her man lazily looking over her face with sleepy eyes. ❝ Last night was fun. ❞

❝ Yeah it was -- ❞ Preston groaned when speaking, stretching out his arms, then flopping them back over her. ❝ Lemme know when you wanna do that again. ❞

❝ Maybe when no else is awake to spy on us. ❞

❝ Good call. ❞

By the time the Minutemen of Sanctuary Hills were up and rolling, Bethany gave out several duties for the day to the community, the duo themselves asked to take care of some raiders bothering a caravan to Bunker Hill.

❝ Hey, I’ll tag along -- ❞

❝ Deacon? ❞ Linda asked, surprised, blinking her eyes a few, though also rather gladded to hear to have an extra number to the list.

❝ Yeah, I mean, I’m curious and all. You know, about that boy that you kissed in Vault 81. You didn’t actually say if you bit him or not and I’ve been waiting for the rest of that cliffhanger -- ❞

❝ Deacon -- !! ❞

#ch: linda #ch: preston #*my writing

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taniasinel · 7 years

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The Most Famous Sofa is No More!

When you think of famous sofas, just a few come to mind. There is the Knole Sofa, from the 1600s, the first and most important sofa made. Though modified for today’s comfort, this version of a sofa is still widely made today – including this one that was just installed in Provence:

A modern day version of the Knole sofa seen at the “Le Mas des Poiriers.”

Another iconic sofa is the Chesterfield. Long thought to have been first made for Lord Phillip Stanhope, the 4th Earl of Chesterfield, in the 18th century, this has never been authenticated. Still, the Chesterfield remains one of the most widely recognized sofas in the world.

And then there is Lee Radziwill’s famous silk velvet Tiger sofa – seen above.

Though not as famous as the Chesterfield or the Knole, it’s hard to think of another personally held sofa that is as well known as this one. Radziwill custom ordered the sofa in the 1960s when she moved from London to New York City. The sofa was placed in her library with its lilac walls. Radziwill kept the sofa for years and years and when her son Anthony moved into an apartment, she gifted him with the sofa.

Is this the most famous sofa of all times? Surely it’s not as famous as the original Knole sofa but it’s hard to think of a more well known one.

In the new Veranda, this house features a tiger sofa in Scalamandre silk velvet, inspired by Lee Radziwill’s own sofa. The sofa was the setting off point for the decor of the entire house.

The Radziwill sofa is so well known that when Lee’s daughter-in-law, Carole Radziwill, wrote her memoir, she included this story about the sofa:

“I have bumped up against history. It won’t be the first time. Most things here, I am learning, have a story. The tiger couch, for instance, is not just a couch, but one his mother had custom-made at De Angeles. It has been photographed for fashion books. People in certain circles know this couch, just as people in other circles know this chair.”

Carole Radziwill is famous for all her many lives, like the cats she is now fostering. First she was a single, very respected TV reporter working in war torn areas. Her career as a reporter earned her three Emmys and a Peabody Award.

Carole and Anthony Radziwill at their wedding.

While working as a reporter, Carole kissed her Prince and got married. And he was not just any Prince, but he was also the nephew of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis. The title is from his father, who comes from a long line of Polish royalty. Apparently Anthony Radziwill never used his inherited title although his cousin and surrogate brother, John Kennedy Jr., used to teasingly call Anthony “Principe.” The two couples, Anthony and Carole and John and his wife Carolyn, became the closest of friends, and the four were inseparable.

Anthony was a testicular cancer survivor when they married and he suffered a recurrence of cancer on their honeymoon. Their five years of their marriage was marked by sickness, operations, and heartache. During this stage, Carole was the young bride but also a full time nurse.

John and Carolyn Kennedy’s ashes were sent to sea. Anthony was very, very ill at this stage.

After valiantly fighting to beat cancer, Anthony was very ill when he and Carole received the horrifying news that Carolyn and John Kennedy had died in a plane crash. Anthony clung to life for just three weeks before he too died. Suddenly, Carole was a young widow who lost not only her husband, but also her best friends. She was grief stricken for years.

Five years later Carole released her book “What Remains.” It’s a gut wrenching tale of cancer and death and loneliness and what remains left behind. I highly recommend it.

(to order the book, just click on the cover.)

Carole was the celebrated best-selling author in the next phase of her life, although she mostly stayed under the radar, that is until producer Andy Cohen, a friend, talked her into joining his hit Bravo show – “Real Housewives of New York.” On the show, Carole plays the role of the intelligent, mature housewife although she was embroiled in a bit of a scandal when she started dating someone about 20 years her junior.

Carole and her young boyfriend Adam Kenworthy

Hey, it’s good enough for our President AND the President of France!

Carole lives in an interesting building in between So-Ho and the West Village in an Historic Landmark District. The five story Queen Ann building was built in 1886 as a grammar school. Her apartment has large windows and 16’ ceilings in the main living room. A tiny kitchen and bedroom ring the expansive living room. Carole ran for and won a place on the co-op’s board of directors.

A few years ago, Carole made a big splash when she completely decorated her condominium in gold and caramel tones with green accents. The color scheme was chosen around the famous Radziwill tiger sofa.

The renovation was beautiful and it made all the blogs and websites.

The issue though became the sofa itself. The silk velvet fabric is so expensive that most can’t afford even a pillow made out of it, much less the 30 yards needed to cover an entire sofa. After almost sixty years, the velvet was becoming rather decrepit.

About ten years ago, Carole had pieced the velvet back together by taking fabric from the back of the bottom cushions that was then used to cover the torn parts.

Now, ten years later, the repairs were failing. The sofa was badly in need of a restoration – but at those prices, who could afford it?

When the new season started a few months ago, the sofa became a talking point. The other housewives commented on how bad it was beginning to look. Carole had started fostering kittens for Howard Stern’s wife Beth Stern and their claws had destroyed the fragile sofa completely.

On Andy Cohen’s late night show, even he asked about the famous sofa and Carole told him it was an issue, explaining how well known it is and that people are invested in it!

So it came as a complete shock to look at the Architectural Digest web site today and realize that the famous Tiger Sofa is no more!!

After all these years, the most well-known tiger sofa is forever gone.

Here’s a look at Carole’s condo – Before her first remodeling, The First Remodeling and The Newest Decor from today!

BEFORE: Before the first remodeling, Carole had an architect add these rather scary-looking, but stunning stairs up to the second bedroom. Underneath the stairs, she had a piano.

BEFORE: Another view of the dark floors and modern staircase. Definitely in need up a decorator.

DURING THE FIRST RENOVATION – Carol added a large chandelier and the apartment got a new coat of paint.

RENOVATION #1: For the first renovation, Carole hired Wayman Robertson. He refinished the front hall in Philip Jeffries Rivets wallpaper. At the opposite end is the kitchen with its new striped floors.

RENOVATION #1: The gold rug, the tiger sofa, the two chairs now covered in green velvet. Large new mirror between the windows, new chandelier, long console behind sofa. A small dining table and two chairs were placed under the large mirror.

RENOVATION #1: The windows are not the same width – but by dressing them alike, it’s not so noticeable.

RENOVATION #1: The view behind the sofa. Art work, matching lamps.

RENOVATION #1 – A big change was the addition of the gold velvet sectional underneath the stairs – the piano is now gone. Notice that the upholstered feet mimic the feet on the tiger sofa.

RENOVATION #1 – The ceiling was wallpapered with silver leaf in a square pattern. This helps to warm up the room and draw the ceiling back down to more human proportions.

RENOVATION #1 – A night view of the condo.

RENOVATION #1 – Carol posed in front of the new velvet sectional.

And here, in front of the staircase. The dining table and chairs have been moved over here for some reason.

BEFORE: Carol doesn’t cook so she decides to turn her kitchen into more of an office space. Of course right after the renovation is completed, she meets a budding Chef who moves in and starts cooking up a storm in her “office.”

BEFORE: Carol talks to her architect about turning the kitchen into more of an office.

RENOVATION #1 – The kitchen was updated. New mirrored subway tile backsplash. New striped floors. Counter space is turned into desk space by moving the sink over.

RENOVATION #1: Carole’s small bedroom is downstairs. Here is covered in a suede fabric on the bed and walls.

RENOVATION #1: The second bedroom is upstairs. Carole turned this small space into an office/closet.

The first renovation was given high marks. It looked good in photographs and on blogs and even better when Carole was filmed in her apartment for Real Housewives of New York.

But, this season, Season 9, the sofa became an issue. Looking back to an early episode, I should have realized a completely new renovation was in the works: fabric samples in blue tones were laid across the back of the sofa. I just didn’t really notice those!

In a later episode, Bethany comes over to talk about the sofa. She tells Carole that the destruction “looks intentional at this point.” She says the sofa looks like it has gone through a ginzo knife and a Cuisinart. They decide to turn over the cushion.

And here you can see the bottom cushion is covered in a plain brown fabric, since a decade ago, Carole had already used that fabric to repair the sofa.

There was just no way to go on with the sofa like this, especially with a litter of foster kittens running around.

When Carol meets John Bossard, a designer, in Aspen, she asks him to redecorate for her. Perhaps he already knows about the famous Radziwill sofa. No one can be sure of that. It’s hard to believe but Bossard does not have a web site up, yet. Oy. NO WEB SITE?!?!?

At first the order was just to redo “THE” sofa but of course that never works and John’s work was not finished until the entire apartment was redecorated from top to bottom, just a few years after it was all done before.

Bossard kept the Jeffries paper in the entry but the rug was updated with a more traditional design which suits the small space much better. The kitchen was closed off with a frosted door that lets in light but keeps out the distraction of ovens and refrigerators. The ceiling was painted a dark color and a contemporary sputnik fixture was added along with a collection of mirrors. And it looks like all the trim was painted a darker brown. The changes are subtle, but the space is much more elegant than it was before.

WOW. WOW. The new apartment is completely different!!! It’s now icy blue and silver and very sleek much like Carole is!! The tall mirror remains but now there are blue curtains and a fabric shade, along with window seats in blues. The arrangement is different too – the curved sofa that was under the stairs has been moved across from the Radziwill sofa that is now –EEK – in an icy blue fabric by Lee Jofa!!!

Say a goodbye prayer for the most famous sofa that is now just a memory.

And here is how it looks. Bossard said he had to rebuild the sofa, replacing the filling and reconstructing its original form. It looks wonderful and brand new and good to go for another 60 years. Carole’s twin Brutalist table lamps, wearing new icy blue shades, remain on the console, next to a new piece of art work. There are all new tables – the wood coffee table is gone, as are all the side tables. The one thing I miss are the Chinese chairs that once flanked the console. I don’t understand why they were tossed.

Carole’s original Dunbar chairs, now recovered, remain, as does the shelf and cabinet. The floors were also redone, they are now a silvery gray brown.

I love the new furniture arrangement – it makes more sense like this.

Another banquette was added to the corner, this time it becomes a small dining spot, which is handy when your boyfriend is a chef. The sunburst mirror remains, but everything else is new.

The view in front of the cabinet and shelf. The faux sheep are at the right and at the left, the plant is actually a lamp!

A close up of the new icy blue sofa. In the corner, an acrylic pedestal.

The kitchen aka office has a new fabric wall, but that’s all.

The first floor bedroom has also been completely redone. In silvery blues with pink accents – it blends with the living room decor. The walls are upholstered and there is a new petal art exhibit by Bradley Sabin above the beds. The vanity was moved down from the second floor closet.

There is just enough room for another window seat in pink.

And upstairs in the second bedroom, the once office closet is now a large dressing room. The room was carpeted in leopard in homage to the now long gone tiger. The ceiling was upholstered and everything is now dramatically lit. It’s for a star, that’s for sure. But it’s hard to believe they actually sell this space as a “second bedroom” when in reality it is just a small closet!

And so, this sofa that made it through the swinging sixties, the Vietnam war days, the Bonfire of the Vanities 80s…..

to the advent of the internet, through the new millennium, to the destruction of the twin towers and to the age of social media!!! Whew!!

Do you think it will last another 60 years? I doubt it. Surely it won’t be remembered as a blue sofa! Long live the tiger sofa!!!

from COTE DE TEXAS http://cotedetexas.blogspot.com/2017/08/the-most-famous-sofa-is-no-more.html

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