#this week is TECHNICALLY supposed to be a fast half marathon but i did that basically on sunday?

[bsaka7]

crazy how watching workout videos makes you want to workout

[ambivalentmarvel]

you know who i love? ali aka @sreppub! you know what ali loves? domesticity, rom-coms, and ironhusbands, and i am perfectly willing to capitalize on that. enjoy and congrats!!!

have pie and eat it too

Tony, as usual, has been the perfect house husband.

(He’s actually a mechanic who owns his own business, but the details here aren’t important.)

After coming home early from the shop, he, among other things, vacuumed the entire apartment twice over (it’s less than 1000 square feet, but still), did the laundry they’ve been putting off for the better part of three weeks (annoying, but it had to be done), and baked a golden brown, perfectly flaky rhubarb pie (disgusting, but it’s Rhodey’s favorite). The apartment is fucking sparkling and smells like a hometown bakery, and Rhodey is a neat freak with a sweet tooth. Tony has this in the bag.

And by this, he means the rom-com marathon he wants to have instead of going out with their friends on a Friday night.

It’s a battle Tony has to put in extra effort to win for a variety of reasons. 

For one, Rhodey hates canceling on people. It’s a trait Tony usually admires, true, but not today, not after the week he’s had. Customers have been irritating, and while Tony has enough demand to turn assholes away at his leisure, there are only so many times he can tell people to piss off before Pepper calls and scolds him about tanking the reviews on the website she designed for him. To boot, Howard’s been trying to get in contact with him for some reason, and it’s getting increasingly more difficult to ignore him, so yes, Tony would very much enjoy a casual night in, even though they have drinking plans with Steve, Natasha, Sam, and Clint.

Second of all, Rhodey . . . strongly dislikes rom-coms, so Tony figures a little bribery can’t hurt.

The bottom line is that by the time Rhodey walks in the door, Tony has a master plan for persuading him to see things his way that starts with a flour-dusted apron and his hair tousled just the way he likes.

“Hi, honeybear,” he beams, greeting him with a sweet—but not sensual—kiss. If he lays it on too thick too fast, after all, Rhodey will catch on.

“Hey,” Rhodey grins back, setting his briefcase on the ground. “How was work today?”

Tony shrugs. “Slow—“ A white lie. “—so I closed up early for the weekend. How about you?”

“If Jason—“

“Fuck Jason,” Tony, who has heard more than one complaint about him, chimes supportively.

“—doesn’t e-mail me the blueprints I need by Monday, I’m filing a complaint with upper management.”

Tony crosses his arms as Rhodey undoes his tie. “I already told you I could mess with his computer if you wanted.”

Rhodey laughs, rich and genuine in a way that warms Tony down to his toes. “And I told you that would be a little obvious, and I’d like to keep my job.”

So picky.

“They can’t fire you!” Tony protests. “Aerospace engineers aren’t exactly easy to come by, especially ones as good as you.”

“I’m not losing my job over Jason,” Rhodey amends. “How’s that?”

Tony harrumphs, but he supposes Rhodey has a point. He usually does, hence why Tony put a ring on it the second he got a chance.

(Technically, they both tried to put a ring on it the second they got the chance, which was very messy despite the wonderful story it makes now, but that’s not relevant.)

“Fuck Jason,” Tony reiterates.

“Jason sucks,” Rhodey agrees, but his eyes are sliding past Tony to the kitchen. “But more importantly, what’d you bake?”

Part one of Tony’s plan: check.

“A rhubarb pie,” he explains brightly, “for after we get home later tonight.”

Rhodey’s expression falters. “For later?”

“I thought it’d be nice to come back to!” Tony interrupts and walks away, headed for the (freshly cleaned!) bathroom, but if all goes well, he won’t make it. “I should probably go comb my hair. We said we’d meet up around 5:30, right?”

He can feel Rhodey’s disgruntlement. “You don’t need to fix it.”

Part two: check.

Tony pauses and turns around, the picture of innocence with his wide eyes and ever-so-slightly cocked head. “I don’t? Sourpatch, I know you like it, but it’s a little messy for going out and about. This,“ he protests, pointing to his curls that toe the line between unruly and bedhead, “is not for public consumption, so unless you want to stay in—” he trails off.

Rhodey pauses. His eyes slide to the couch, and Tony can visibly see him considering the idea. “We have plans,” he tries.

Tony raises a brow, leaning against a wall and dusting something off the apron, expertly drawing Rhodey’s attention to how quaint and lovable he seems right now—when he’s not dressed to leave the house. “Not if we don’t want to.”

Tony pretends to shiver and pads to the couch, which, on top of everything else, he’s primped with throw pillows and blankets to look as appealing as possible. He draws their favorite throw around his shoulders, and he sees Rhodey’s shoulders slump. Tony leans his chin into his palm to keep from smirking.

Part three: check.

“The apartment does look great,” Rhodey admits, putting his suit jacket over his arm as he looks around.

“I cleaned it when I got off,” Tony offers helpfully.

A little too helpfully, apparently, because Rhodey’s eyes narrow in dawning suspicion. “You hate cleaning.”

“I was in the mood?”

Rhodey laughs, and Christ, Tony loves him. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

Oops. He drags a hand through his hair, milking the rumpled effect while he can, even if he’s been caught. “You can’t prove anything.”

“Tony—”

He pouts, which should be a crime to have to do in an apron as cute as his. “Please? I’m tired, and they’re loud.”

“They wouldn’t be as loud if you didn’t—”

“Please?” 

Tony knows he’s almost there, and as he’s starting to consider what other incentive he’s going to come up with—

Rhodey sighs. “Fine.” His lips slide into a smile that’s equal parts fond and just shy of exasperated. “But after I change, I’m having a slice of that pie.”

And that’s a wrap.

“Anything you want,” Tony swears, and he waits until Rhodey is in pajamas and has a mouthful of the foulest flavor of pie in existence before starting on the other half of his fight. “So, you know how you just love rom-coms?” 

And when Rhodey—the most perfect husband ever—sighs again, Tony knows he’s going to have a great rest of his night.

[starrykitty013]

Sneak Peak!! This will be a Cake Walk (oneshot)

Here’s the full fic...finally: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33658105

This takes place in my JGLEH universe (https://archiveofourown.org/series/1415002) but this oneshot could be read as a standalone :)

Enjoy!

August 7th, 2019.

That was the date that this year’s birthday fell on. Technically it was the first wednesday of August, since this month started on a Thursday, but it was basically the second week of August, so they’d let it slide. Besides the 14th of August seemed like a good date, but Ned and MJ were just so anxious to finally be spending a birthday with their best friend, because it had been 2 years since they last had - well more Ned than MJ, MJ was cool with anything.

So here they were, lounging around Peter’s - and his parent’s - little apartment/penthouse/whatever-this-place-they-were-living-was-classfied-as in Stark tower, eating junk food and marathoning Voltron - every variation of it, eating a slightly melted ice cream cake MJ bough - they bought an entire sheet cake this time, instead of a small one because Ned and MJ got paychecks now and Peter has the metabolism not to waste it.

Different location, same traditions. Sure the atmosphere of the tower was not as cozy as Ned’s cramped living room or MJ’s box apartment, but they made do. They dulled the settings on the floor to ceiling window that took up an entire wall and viewed over the city. They cuddled in blankets and made an entire pillow fort, and they made it surround them so they were forced to be closer together.

They would’ve invited everyone else in the tower, but his official birthday wasn’t until the 12th and Peter’s sure they had something planned. He kind of just wanted to keep this serenity of the three of them, even if he felt a little guilty about being exclusive. It was worth it.

It felt right.

Keeping his old traditions while preparing for the new ones that he was bound to make this year.

He hadn’t celebrated his birthday with the Avengers last year, because it was the date of the trial and he hadn’t been living with them at the time, even if like a week later he was. Everything had been so hectic and moving too fast that his birthday had barley been on any of their minds. He had spent the night with Wade and Matt goofing off in and out of their costumes though - the aults getting thoroughly plastered and Peter thinks it was only 60% for his amusement.

It was an enjoyable night. Or at least it it was shaping up to be. He liked the chill vibes that they had managed to create. It was almost like they were hanging out just like any other day, and not celebrating Peter being one year away from being a legal adult - in America at least.

His parents had walked in around 11:30ish, and they just were about to pass without looking twice at the kids lounged around and the mess of stolen blankets and pillows they probably didn’t know they owned - and they didn’t own most of them, again they were temporarily stolen, he’d give them to their respective owners again...eventually...maybe.

Ned had greeted them absently, because he was polit like that, and Nat smirked fondly at them, watching them out of the corner of her eye, while Bucky turned and nodded in acknowledgment, lips quirking up for a second at the scene. MJ gave a salute as she had a chip half in her mouth.

“Russian → ”(Hey, guys.) Peter said absently, not really looking at them as he leaned forward to grab another slice of melted cake. And that’s when Natasha paused for a second, looking frozen. Bucky had just barley managed to ram into her. It was a slight action but it made Peter pause and look up in confusion and slight alarm. His spidey sense wasn’t going off, but Nat had that look on her face where she kept it carefully neutral to not give anything away. Peter turned his head to them and sat up a bit, Ned and MJ seemed to pick up on his vibes because a moment later MJ had shifted into a slightly more alert slouch and that was followed by Ned swiveling his head to look confusedly between everyone while trying - and failing, but it’s okay Ned you are still a precious bean child that will be protected by everyone here - to be subtle about it, his anxiety kicking in a bit. “What’s up?” he said trying to maintain a casual tone. If it was an emergency, he’d know, they would’ve been more on edge. It was more likely that they had gotten taken off guard by something - which was only barley more comforting, since they usually were never taken off guard by much.

Bucky had trained his eyes on Nat, so Peter did the same. She darted her eyes quickly to something next to him and then back to Peter, Bucky followed her gaze and kept it locked on the thing she was looking at. Peter slowly moved his head to where Bucky’s eyes were trained and looked down to see the mostly melted cake, with the watery, sloppy lettering that was supposed to spell out “Congrats on not dying spider dweeb” and then a messily drawn spiderman logo, but they had eaten the cake in a way that it said “C---ats o- ying- ider dw-b” and part of the logo was cut outso it was only the lens’ of the mask showing. Peter then moved his eyes back up to Natasha, still confused over why she was so still about it.

“I thought you're birthday was the... 12th.” Her tone was still carefully neutral, but Peter could detect some tension that his friends probably didn’t pick up on. Bucky definitely did though. It almost seemed like it was hard for her to get that out, for some reason.

Peter cocked his head. “Well yeah officially.” he said. Something seemed to click for Bucky and he looked to Peter and his friends again.

“It’s the 7th.” Bucky said, in a much more genuine neutral tone.

“Yeah, it is.” MJ said sarcastically, but she seemed to tone her usual snark down a bit. Peter was inexplicably grateful for that, for some reason.

“We celebrate it on the second Wednesday of August though.” Ned explained. He had told them the story of how he officially got his birthday with Wade and the army camps earlier that day, because Ned had asked if there was a story he was previously unable to tell them. He had told them the whole truth and they accepted it without any preamble. At this point they had heard so many messed up stories about his childhood that the initial shock and horror reaction had dialed down. At first - when he first started telling them about his past that he had to keep a secret, even without all the spidey stuff like the White room and Special Forces - Ned had been in tears nearly every time and MJ would close off almost to the point of dissociation. But after nearly a year the most reaction he’d get was MJ’s concerned eyeroll and Ned’s shift so they bumped shoulders or they were closer. Still, the birthday story did get a hug out of Ned and MJ to shift a tad closer.

Bucky’s eyes flicked to Natasha and his shoulders slumped like he was holding in a sigh “Why?” Bucky asked after a beat of silence, maintaining the same casual light tone.

“Some stupid thing Wade made up.” Peter shrugged and fought the urge to look away. Why did he feel so weird about this? “Something about sticking it to the man, or society or the government or whatever.” he said looking down at his cake and putting a small bite in his mouth that he could talk around. “We did it every year and then we did it with Ned and MJ and it just stuck. It’s not a big deal, we just chill.” he mumbled more than said. There was a long pull of silence between them, with only the sounds of Allura explaining some complicated space matter to the team of palidins on the screen.

When Peter finally had the urge to look up he found himself looking at the tail end of his mother going into her bedroom and quietly shutting the door. He looked at the door for a moment then at Bucky who was doing the same, but he sighed and shot him and his friends one last supposedly reassuring smile, as if to say ‘as you were’ - it did not have it’s desired effect- and then follow after his partner, opening and shutting the door softly.

That was weird.

Peter just looked at the door for a few moments, not really sure how to feel about that. He felt his friends’ gazes on his back, and it almost felt like they had no clue what to do with that strange interaction either. It hadn’t left bad vibes, but it hadn’t really left any good ones either.

He turned back to the movie, MJ and Ned seemingly following his lead and going back to marathoning. But instead of listening to Keith and Lance’s 143th argument of the show, he was listening to the quiet murmurs coming from the room. Loud enough that Peter could pick up on the sound with his enhanced hearing but too soft to actually make any words out.

Eventually, after about 10 minutes of not knowing what was up and the feeling something was off still lingering in his mind, he stood up and made his way to the door. HIs confused friends’ gazes followed him up and to where he was walking.

“Be right back.” he said absently before entering the room and closing the door just a quietly as his parents’.

[conversationswithcole]

13.1

About four months ago I signed up to run my first ever half marathon. I had never been a runner. Yes I am an athlete and I play rugby but long distance running has never been a part of my training. In October I ran my first 5k, which is 3.2 miles, for Shatterproof.  The Rise Up Against Addiction 5k happens in cities all over the country to raise money and awareness for the organization. 

My family and friends came together and ran in honor of my brother, Joseph. My sister has been a runner for years now, competing in marathons all over, including the Chicago marathon a few years back. I ended up running the 5k in 26 minutes which was WAY faster than my expectations. I went into the race with a goal of finishing in under 40 minutes. To this date it has been my fastest 5k time. Sometimes I try to make sense of how I completed the race so quickly; maybe it was my adrenaline, or the reason we were running, or who I was running with but the answer remains unknown. 

After I finished the race I felt like this could be my new hobby. I absolutely shocked myself with how well I performed and I decided then I would take up long distance running. I signed up for a few more races in the upcoming months but was only able to participate in the Turkey Trot due to outside circumstances. The Turkey Trot DID NOT go well at all. I didn’t drink much the night before and went home considerably early but I was very dehydrated and unprepared for this race. I was the slowest out of my two friends that ran with me, and I puked as soon as I crossed the finish line. 

Shortly after some of my friends decided to sign up for their first half marathon. I was disappointed that I would not be in town the weekend of the race. About a month later my sister reached out and asked me to run the BK Half Marathon with her in May. Without hesitation I agreed. I was excited to take on this challenge and push myself out of my comfort zone to do something new. I began listening to podcasts and researching the best training methods, tips and tricks to optimize my running potential. I bought myself a white board calendar to hang on my wall so I could track my runs each week, and two pairs of running shoes because that’s what the experts said to do. I began my 12 week training on a Tuesday morning before work and it was HARD. I immediately regretted my decision to sign up for this half marathon and couldn’t see how in the world I would ever be able to run 13.1 miles in one shot. 

As the weeks went on I didn’t quit, I stuck to my training and felt incredible. Each week the miles would increase and even though I would still get nervous I managed to get it done. There’s a lot to learn when it comes to long distance running and of course it’s hard not to strive for perfection during your first go around. My friends and I were training at the same time so we would be sharing our daily runs, and anything we discovered through our researching. My friends were running faster than me and it was hard not to compare myself to them. Marathon running is such a test on your metal strength. Your mind is your biggest weapon. I started to switch my mindset from feeling badly about not running as fast as my partners to feeling proud of myself for just doing it. 

Everyone is guilty of comparing themselves to someone else. It’s almost impossible not too in today’s society that’s full of people shoving their seemingly perfect lives in your face on social media. One of the hardest things to do is recognize that the only person you should be comparing yourself too is the person you were before you began whatever journey you are on. So instead of focusing how fast I was running, I was just focusing on getting it done. 

Lindsay and I have been best friends for the past two decades and I would not have wanted to train for this race with anyone else. She is one of my biggest motivators and supporters and I am so thankful to have a friend like her. We were each other’s hype women throughout the entire process. It was so freeing to be able to let go of that mindset that I needed to be at the same pace or better than my friends. I was able to really focus on how far I had come as an individual and what I was able to accomplish. 

This weekend I was supposed to be running in my half marathon. Obviously due to the state of the world right now, my race was canceled weeks ago. When quarantine first began I tried to keep a positive attitude. I wanted to continue training and planned to run my half marathon whether or not the official race was still happening. As the weeks went on my training seemed more and more like a burden because I technically didn’t have anything to do all day every day. Eventually I stopped running entirely. It has been four weeks since the last time I ran and every day that I tell myself I am going to do it I find a reason not too. 

Today, I finally ran. I ran two miles, which a month ago was considered my easy training days, but today was anything but easy. I felt like I had never ran a day in my life. My pace was one of my personal slowest and I did not have one ounce of fun. At first I felt defeated, like I had totally screwed myself and I ran for two months for nothing because clearly I am back to square one. It didn’t get any easier to finish the two miles as time went on but what did change was my mindset. I was able to think back to when I first started my training in February and how far I had come since then. Before my one month hiatus I was able to run 6 miles in one hour, something I would’ve laughed at in the past before ever believing I could do so. My goal was simple, run two miles. It didn’t matter how fast I ran or how many times I had to stop to walk, all that mattered is that I completed a two mile run. I used my success in the past and the benefits of all my previous hard work as proof that I knew without a doubt that I could run two miles because I’ve done it before. 

Seconds felt like hours when I was running the last .1 of my two miles. I couldn’t wait to do be done. I was exhausted and couldn’t believe how hard it was. I honestly thought even after a month of not running I would still be able to jump back in and run a quick 3 miles easy. I was naive. Despite the difficulty of my run, I felt good. My endorphins were pumping and I was proud of myself for reaching my goal. I danced in the shower and day dreamed about the rest of the weekend and when I would run. Of course Lindsay was the first person to give me kudos on Strava, and she immediately sent me messages of praise because she was so proud that I ran. 

Having a solid support system is a blessing. So often we find ourselves fighting against the entirely false thoughts that we repeat over and over in our mind. When I can’t seem to fight back any longer, it’s the people like Lindsay and my boyfriend Vincent who help me remember what I am capable of. 

I’m not always able to be my own voice of reason. I am not always capable of realizing what my true potential is and how much better I am than I may think. Changing your mentality from negative to positive is a difficult habit to form. It takes practice and more practice and I’m not sure that it’s even possible to do it completely. We are human and we have been accustomed to a certain way of thinking for our entire lives. It’s almost like how we learned how to walk a certain way and then all of the sudden 26 years later you’re told it’s harmful to your health and you need to change it right away.  It would feel unnatural and frustrating and you’d have moments where you wouldn’t care enough to keep trying. 

Life is all about taking the good with the bad. All of the times you have doubted yourself or underestimated your potential and undervalued your accomplishments because someone else was out there doing it better than you, they have encountered also. There is always going to be someone out there doing things better than you, and someone out there doing things better than them. It’s inevitable, unless you’re the greatest of all time like Michael Jordan.

As much as I would like to believe that this was my last setback and that I will continue to run each week for the rest of my life, I know that would just be an irrational way of thinking. All I can do is try my best every single day and remember what I am capable of. When I find myself in this period of limbo where I may not be running at all, I must remember to not fully destroy my self worth over it. This goes for any journey in life. There is no success without failure. Life is all about balance, baby. 

[trade-baby-blues]

Feint

Pairing: Bones x Reader

Word Count: 1934

Warnings: minor swearing

A/N: Based on a request by an anon! The title is a pun bc the reader faints but also because reader and Bones have kind of rude attitudes to each other so it’s a little like feinting (and also I’m super tired so maybe it’s only funny to me lol). Hope you enjoy!!

Nervous was the best way to describe how you felt around Leonard McCoy. The strong jaw, piercing gaze, terrifying medical equipment -it was a mental recipe for disaster, sending you into a panic every time you were near him. Unfortunately, your fight or flight response was biased to fighting (too many years with Jim, Bones always said) and you came off rude every time you spoke with him.

Bones, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong. He’d been smitten from the moment you first got wheeled into Medbay. You and Jim had gone on an away mission and decided to race to the bottom of a hill. In a spark of what you called genius, you grabbed an emergency inflatable raft from the transport ship. Needless to say, neither of you realized the hill ended abruptly in a shallow cliff, and you tumbled out of the raft onto the quarry floor below. Luckily for Jim, you broke his fall. The whole ordeal was so stupid it actually endeared you to Bones as you explained it.

The scoldings, on the other hand, were much less endearing. They became more frequent and more intense as Bones fell harder for you. While he was glad to see you so often, he hated seeing you injured in whatever idiotic shenanigan you and Jim had gotten yourselves into this time. It was a waste of his time and yours.

“Can you believe it,” you shouted to Jim, who was in the shower, while you hung upside down from the side of his bed. “He said I was ‘wasting his time.’”

The water shut off. “Yelling is just how Bones shows he cares,” Jim called from the bathroom.

You scoffed. “Then I’m surprised he hasn’t proposed by now. He yells at me for everything. God, did I tell you that he yelled at me for taking a nap in the conference room chair yesterday? Said it was ‘ruining my posture’ and he wouldn’t help me when I started having back problems.”

Jim poked his head out from the bathroom, wet hair sticking up at odd angles. “You took a nap in the conference room yesterday? Weren’t you on shift?”

“Yes, but that’s not the point Jim. The point is Bones has a stick up his ass the size of Georgia and -.”

“And I think that’s enough,” Jim said ducking back into the bathroom before emerging with a towel draped around his waist. “I love a good shit-talk, but Bones is my friend, too. I don’t wanna get in the middle of whatever this is. It’s weird.”

“So is seeing you walking around in a towel, but that hasn’t stopped you.”

Jim turned around on his way to his closet. “Because it’s my room. Trust me, I would prefer to be naked.”

“Aw, thanks for saving me the nightmares.”  

“Get out,” Jim laughed. You acquiesced, bouncing up from the bed so fast you felt a little dizzy. You brushed it off and made your way back to work.

Bones slammed his breakfast tray down on the table. Stabbed his food. Chomped as if his teeth were grinding down rocks instead of pancakes. Jim watched, bagel halfway in his mouth, before dropping it back to his plate with a sigh. “What’s got your eyebrow twitching today, Bones?”

“Nothing.” He stabbed his food again. Stab. Chomp. Stab. Chomp.

“You sure about-”

“I just don't understand what I did wrong,” Bones cut in. “I've gone out of my way to ensure Y/N gets the best treatment and knows how to take care of herself after whatever stupid shenanigans the two of you have gotten into and she acts like I’m some dictator trying to control her life when all I’m doing is trying to show her I care, you know?” Jim nodded along, trying to respond but being cut off again before he could say anything. “I’ll be damned. That’s the problem, isn’t it? I care about her so much I’ve been smothering her. I’ve got to find her.” Bones shoveled the last few mouthfuls of food into his mouth before practically sprinting out of the mess hall.

Jim stared at the empty space in front of him and sighed. “Thanks for the talk, Jim,” he muttered to himself. “You’re a great listener and a great captain. You’re the best, Jim.”

You threw your wrench to the ground, sending it clattering across the engine room floor. Sweat felt like a permanent accessory on your skin, and you weren’t sure which was louder: the roaring of machines or the roaring of your own heartbeat. When had you gotten so out of shape?

“Maybe it really is time for a physical,” you told yourself as you clambered back down to collect your tools for the day. The floor seemed to shift as you bent forward, barely managing to catch yourself before your face hit the metal floor beneath you. “Hm. Weird and not at all terrifying,” you whispered, keeping your hands and knees firmly planted as you waited for the dizziness to fade. “Probably dehydrated, which would also explain why I’m talking to a wrench.” You pressed your forehead against the floor, hoping the coolness of the metal would help abate the heat and lightheadedness plaguing your body.

The noise around you grew quieter as you focused on your breathing, on the solid ground beneath you, on anything but the overwhelming pounding in your chest. You came to realize your body wasn’t hot - your chest was. It felt like your heart was ready to burst out of it, pumping as if you’d run a marathon rather than climbed a ladder. You fought past the ever encroaching whiteness at the edge of your vision to fish through your toolkit for your Comm, hoping to reach Scotty or Jim or anyone and tell them where you were, but you could feel your arms get heavier with each move you made. Your fingers wrapped around the Comm like a life raft as you slipped past the edge of consciousness.

Bones tried to pretend like it didn’t upset him that you were avoiding his calls, but he’d always been one to wear his emotions on his sleeve, and right now his sleeves were pushed to his elbows, crushed and wrinkled, as he buried himself in paperwork to forget about the messages he’d sent you hours ago. Of course, he’d wanted to confess his feelings in person, but, when he couldn’t find you, Bones had to settle for a Comm call. When you didn’t respond, he was forced to settle for a bottle of whiskey and the realization that maybe you simply hated him after all. It was all the same. He’d gotten used to being alone.

That didn’t stop him from jumping from his seat the second his Communicator started ringing. He tried to remind himself that he was an adult, but the mix of alcohol and nerves made Bones damn near drop the Comm half a dozen times before he finally answered.

“Hello.” Bones made a note to not sound so breathless. There was no answer. “Anyone there?” There was a buzzing of machinery in the background but no voice, no sounds of movement. Bones pondered his next move before hanging up and dialing your Comm. It rang and rang but you didn’t pick up. Bones shifted gears and called Jim, asking him to call you before Jim could get a word in. Then, he paced impatiently around his office waiting for Jim to call him back.

“Did she pick up,” Bones started as soon as he answered the call.

“You know,” Jim said, “I am the captain of this ship. I have a job to do. Responsibilities. Plus, I’m technically your boss, so you shouldn’t be so rude to me.”

“Damn it, Jim, I think something might be seriously wrong with Y/N. Did she answer or not?”

“No, she -”

“Meet me down in Engineering.” Bones ended the call as quickly as it started, leaving Jim on the other end, staring into deep space wondering if his being captian meant anything to anyone besides himself.

Everything was bright. Everything was loud. The cotton sheets scratched at your skin, but you were unable to move. Your limbs were lead. Your eyelids like cathedral doors you had to pry open. You tried to focus on the face hovering above you.

“Is that you God? Odin? That cute delivery guy who brought us pizza on our last shore leave?” Your voice came out muddled, but Jim’s laughter hit your ears crystal clear.

“Yeah, I’d say she’s gonna be just fine, Bones.” Jim clapped him on the shoulder.

Bones scoffed. “Just fine? She’s got a heart condition, Jim. There’s nothing fine about that.”

“Someone’s in a bad mood,” you mumbled as you pushed yourself up on the bed. “You’d think you’re the one who got diagnosed with a heart condition.” “As often as the two of you wind up in here, I’m surprised I don’t already have one. God, do you have any idea how dangerous it is to work under the conditions down in Engineering with an arrhythmia?”

You furrowed your brow. “Arrhythmia?”

“An irregular heartbeat.”

“That explains so much…” you whispered in response. Silence fell as Bones glared at you.

“How long have you been having symptoms?”

You avoided his gaze, staring at the hem of the sheet you were lying under. “I don’t know. Not super long. Maybe a couple weeks.”

“A couple weeks,” Bones yelled louder than he intended. He reigned himself in again. “You didn’t think it was something you should mention? I mean, the dizziness, the heart palpitations - they’re all pretty noticeable symptoms.”

“I’m not a doctor,” you said defensively. “I didn’t know what it was! I thought it was just because I have a stupid crush on you and I was nervous or something.” You clapped your hand over your mouth, eyes wide, heart racing again.

“This ain’t a romance novel, sugar,” Bones laughed, which made your cheeks redder than they already were. “Your heart’s not supposed to flutter.”

“Yeah, well I realize it’s not a romance novel or I wouldn’t be lying in a paper gown covered in dust and engine grease in front of a smoking hot doctor.” You crossed your arms over your chest, sinking back into the pillow and wishing, more than anything, that you could sink through the bed and drift off through space to a planet a few systems away from here.

“I like a girl who’s not afraid to get dirty,” Bones teased.

“Aaaaand that’s my cue to leave,” Jim interrupted. “You crazy kids have fun.”

You watched Jim go, hoping he could feel your eyes on his back begging him to stay or at the very least smother you with your own pillow. Either would do. Sadly, he kept walking, leaving you with Bones and a heavy silence as you were both reduced to grade schoolers tugging nervously at your shirt sleeves.

“So,” you started. “Are you gonna...take care of my heart?” You cringed at how cheesy that sounded. “No, that’s. I’m sorry. Can you fix it?”

Bones couldn’t help but laugh. He’d never seen you nervous before. It was a cute look on you. “I’ll take good care of you, doll.” Bones pressed his hand over yours and everything clicked into place. The tornado of thoughts whirring around your brain finally calmed as you focused on the pressure, the warmth of Bones’ hand over yours. It was a feeling you wanted to hold onto forever.

Tags: 

@outside-the-government @martinawalker @thevalesofanduin @goingknowherewastaken @thefanficfaerie  @feelmyroarrrr @brooke-taylor0323 @slither-in-a-half @cuddlememerrick @8bit-arc-reactor @jimtkirkisabitch @sjlovestory @kristaparadowski

[wordsinwinters]

Then Again: P1 Peter Parker x Reader

Author’s Note: This is the first fanfiction piece I’ve ever posted, so I’m learning how this all works as I go. I’ll probably post this on AO3 sometime soon, but because I’ll need to make an account, etc, it might be a little while before it’s available there.

Additionally, please review! 

I’m excited (and extremely nervous) to put my writing out there for the first time, so any comments, questions, or advice are absolutely welcome! 

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

Then Again, Part 1:

(Word count: 1,358)

Living in New York City rarely feels as glamorous as the movies and aesthetic blogs make it seem. Most days, that lively hustle and bustle of our beautiful, always dreaming city reminds me of a horde of flies conducting emergency drills underwater. Especially on foggy days. And muggy days. And Mondays, Tuesdays, occasionally Wednesdays. However, the almost-weekend to weekend days that sprinkle in refreshing breezes alongside bright sunshine - those days pull you up by the back of your collar and shove optimism down your shirt like it’s a cool, wet towel. The city tingles from the ground up.

Today is one of those good days.

Ironically, I woke up exhausted. I nearly spilled my breakfast in my lap (but didn’t, thanks to Peter) and I walked with my three best friends to school through fields of exhaust fumes half-awake. Once there, however, it all seemed to turn around. The classes I attended went wonderfully and the classes I didn’t attend, I’ll assume went just as well. I skipped half of them for the first time in my life.

Besides occasional “homework sharing,” I rarely break rules, it’s just that Ned and Michelle can be extremely persuasive… not that I needed much persuasion today. The suggestion was enough. I’ve been so giddy this week that I embraced the tiny taste of teenage rebellion with open arms. (“Tiny” seems like an appropriate description: all we did was hide out in random parts of the school watching Vines, playing minor pranks in the hallways during breaks, and stealing food from Peter’s stash of locker snacks as payback for his refusal to join us.)

Today has been a great day, and outside of Peter acting a bit strange, it’s been a good week overall. It’s just so easy to be happy with everything going on. Tonight: special dinner with our friends. Tomorrow: Midtown’s academic decathlon team heads to Washington, D.C. Shortly after, my friends and I will attend Prom, go on summer break, and enter our senior year of high school. My anticipation for this trip, the dance, the summer, and our eventual graduation bubbles up inside my stomach anytime the conversation between me and two of my best friends takes a short dip as we walk back from school.

Despite all of the upcoming things I have to think about, this walk is making my thoughts drift back to the one topic I’ve been trying most to avoid. Why wouldn’t Peter sneak out of class? He isn’t always such a rule follower anymore. And then why leave seventh hour when we all have class together? Is it just a today thing? He’s seemed… off all week.

I need to stop thinking about him. Wondering why he’s been strangely reserved or else imagining the previous seven hours with him more present in their events is not going to help me keep our friendship normal. Just think about something else. Anything else. Even someone else.

“Should we invite Flash?” I ask. I ask this partly because it’s a question nobody has brought up yet, and partly because the conversation has certainly dipped and my brain wants to sprint away from my control. I even thought I saw Spidey a minute ago. By now he’s on the other side of Queens. Think of something else.

We stop on the sidewalk, traffic rushing in front of us, countless buzzing people behind everywhere else.

Ned and Michelle turn to me with matching expressions.

“And why would we do that?” Ned asks.

“Because every-”

“Oh, shit.” Michelle groans. “Because everyone else, bar Mr. Harrington, is going. The entire team except Flash. For being so smart, we’re all a bunch of fucking idiots.”

“Technically we don’t have to do anything,” Ned says, obviously resistant to the idea. “It isn’t an official team dinner or whatever. We can’t get in trouble for it.”

“Still, as captain, I can’t organize a social gathering with everyone but Flash and pretend it isn’t a shitty thing to do. God damn it.”

The walk signal turns white as Michelle starts a text to Flash. Peter’s apartment is only a few blocks away.

Once we reach the door, Ned knocks. We all know Peter and May won’t be in, but Ned has a habit of politeness that even that can’t shake. After a couple seconds, he unlocks it himself with one of the five total keys to the apartment. (Strictly speaking, May isn’t supposed to have had three extra copies made, but she wouldn’t be May if she paid mind to that rule.)

“So,” Michelle says, heaving her bookbag onto a chair. “Music and clean, then Netflix and chill?”

The three of us look around at the destruction our last night of studying brought the apartment. Snacks and dishes are strewn in odd places and our fallen pillow fort is a ruin. A sticky 5 Hour Energy must have splashed on the carpet at some point, given the pink stain to the right of the couch. Coating most of the colossal mess are countless pieces of scribbled-on paper.

Ned and I nod in agreement.

Michelle’s speaker beeps awake and we set to work.

As I gather garbage, I let the music fill up my skull. I imagine confetti raining down inside of it, each piece sparkling with tiny letters that read: It’s just one of those good days.

The only thing that could make this day better would be the presence of Peter and May Parker. But then again, Peter ducked out of last hour, I suppose to get a head start on his “internship” (he’s never done that before though, so the irony of his skipping part of Psych and not any other classes did not slide by unnoticed by Michelle or Ned either) and May has… a job, a hobby? I really don’t know. Wherever they are and whatever they’re doing, I can’t help wishing they were home.

May returns around 5 p.m. As usual, she is unsurprised to find us watching Netflix. Over the last couple weeks, we took study breaks by picking out a lighthearted show and making questions from an episode. Today is an exclusively no-studying day, but we can’t help continuing the mini-tradition while we marathon Friends.

“Ah, the Studying-Not-Studying game.”

May walks over smiling, her arms crossed.

“It’s a vital healing process for our near-fatally strained brains,” I joke.

A phone buzzes.

“Wait, Miss MJ! You can’t answer that text until you answer my question for this episode. Were they,” May says, “or were they not,” she pauses, “on a break?”

“Oh god, no,” I plead. “Please, please, don’t start this again! Ned and MJ argued about this for twenty minutes before you got here!”

“Okay, but Rachel did say-” Ned begins.

“Oh my god, Ned! We talked about this!”

Michelle begins explaining with her hands and May grins, walking into the kitchen. Feinting defeat, I put my head in my hands and sink into the couch cushion. Slumped, I take out my own phone. Nothing.

I text Peter.

“Still good for 7:30?”

Whoosh. And now the waiting game begins. Actually, it began at 3:00 p.m. when I sent the first of a dozen messages. But none of them were questions, so an answer wasn’t necessary.

“Hey MJ,” I say. “What was that text you got?”

Michelle and Ned halt, hands frozen in expressionistic flight.

“Let’s see.” She flips her phone over. “It’s from Flash.”

Ned clasps his hands together.

“Dear merciful God,” he prays. “Please, please, let MJ read us a rejection text from Eugene ‘Flash’ Ass-Hat Rich-Boy Bitch-Boy.”

We made up that nickname today while cutting fourth hour. Not quite eloquent, but to the point. Plus, it’s almost impossible to say seven times fast. (We made a game of trying.)

Michelle types a quick response and takes a breath, placing her hand on Ned’s shoulder.

“Prepare yourself for something dreadful, Ned.” She hangs her head. “Eugene ‘Flash’ Ass-Hat Rich-Boy Bitch-Boy is… ‘super doped out’ to accept our invitation.”

“God damn it.”

“Kids!” May calls from the kitchen. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you to watch your language?”

Part 2

A/N: The content above is only 3 pages of a current 44 pages. If there are any mistakes in it, I apologize. Tonight was my self-set deadline and I didn’t edit it as thoroughly as I would have preferred. (Betas welcome!)

I’m hoping to update again around Saturday, 

but because my weekend is so busy, I’m can’t promise anything. Still, I am planning to update weekly!

Again, please let me know what you think – I’d love to hear from you!

P.S. I love writing stories that have background plots spinning behind closed doors, so if you have any questions about little nods/hints you might find in this, I wouldn’t mind writing some “note” posts to explain details that may not be explicitly explained throughout this story.

[ugh-supersoldiers]

The purest thing in my life is my love for Sebastian Stan

I’ve come to this realization in the last few weeks of my life, let me explain how:

For those of you who don’t know, I moved into university at the beginning of September. I’m a stressed person on your average day, but for the entire summer after graduating high school, I was an utter mess. I cried almost every night in the month before moving. I was going to be four hours away from home, at a school that none of my friends were going to, without my boyfriend whom I’d been with or two and a half years to help me channel myself socially, and was going to a prestigious school and was going to be doing work that was probably a billion times harder than anything I’d done before.

To be frank: I was scared shitless and had no idea how the hell I was going to make it out alive.

During orientation week, I cried myself to sleep every single night. I was terrified of the people on my floor who had seemingly already become fast friends whilst I just sat back and didn’t talk. Not to mention the constant need to introduce myself to about fifty people every day and the impending fear that perhaps I just wasn’t cut out for university after all.

I remember very clearly, the night before classes officially began, I sat on my bed, crying my heart out alone in my dorm at some ungodly hour in the morning (so I suppose it was technically the day classes began). I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t call Jack (my wonderful boyfriend who loves me to death) because, even though I knew he’d pick up, I couldn’t bear to wake him so early on a school night. I’d made a few connections with people on my floor and in my frosh group, but I was terrified that I wasn’t good enough for them because I wasn’t outgoing enough, wasn’t confident enough in myself to properly fit in.

Then I glanced over at the pillow sitting next to me, one with Seb’s face on it (which was actually a very joking anniversary gift from Jack, which he gave me with a smug smile and a cocky ‘I know what my girl likes’ that now holds copious amounts of sentimental value) and I thought about all the times I was stressed in high school and would watch videos of Seb being a complete goofball. After a while of debating, I unlocked my phone and ventured into the realm of YouTube, praying that this would work the same way it did for me before.

So I searched for as many ‘funny moment compilation’ videos as I could - and was intrigued and slightly shocked to find that I’d actually already seen most of them - and began my marathon. Within minutes of the first video, I felt a huge smile pull all the way up to my ears, seemingly out of no where. There were still huge tears stains on my cheeks from earlier, and yet here I was, sitting on my bed grinning like an idiot as I watched Seb mention for what must’ve been the hundredth time that he had to lube his way into the fake metal arm. But here’s the real kicker, then I started to laugh out loud so hard that I began to cry again - this time for much more joyous reasons. For the first time in months I felt carefree, and more importantly, I felt like myself again.

I felt like I could do anything, and I was able to fall asleep feeling more at peace than I had in longer than I could remember. When I got up that morning, I went to my lectures scared out of my mind, but with a reassuring little voice in the back of my head reciting a comment he left on a fan’s instagram saying, “Go forth. Go forward. Take a few breaths and onwards we go. There’s nothing more heroic in the world then that.” And I believed every word.

That night after I reluctantly did all of my readings, I decided to message in my floor group chat to see where everyone was. I found out they were all hanging out in someone’s room, and I willed myself to open my door, even though every bone in my body was telling me to shut it closed again and stay in the safety of my dorm. I walked down the hallways slowly, but it felt like too much so I turned back into my room. Then I tried again, but did the same thing. This went on another two or three times before I finally whispered to myself “Go forth. Go forward. Go forth. Go forward. Go forth. Go forward…” Over and over again. I think this worked both literally and emotionally, because the next thing I knew I was standing at my floormate’s open door. A chorus of ‘Gracey!’s was all it took to affirm my decision to push through.

Since that day, I’ve been to every one of my lectures, done every reading, found my passion in my drama lectures, interviewed with a local divised theatre company (and was recently offered a job!), and made some of the greatest friends I’ve ever had on my floor. 

Sebastian Stan, without even knowing it, has completely and utterly changed my view on the next four years of my life.

And here’s the thing; he may never know it, and that’s okay. This is just one story out of the thousands of lives that he’s touched with his wise, and resoundingly beautiful personality. 

So here’s my advice to anyone struggling; find your person.

Mine is Sebastian (and Jack, of course), and yours might be too, but maybe not. Find someone who puts a smile on your face when you think you’re incapable of even grinning, someone who makes your heart jump a little bit whenever they do something new, someone who you think is probably the sweetest person in the world. Find them and hold on to them, even if it’s from a distance.

All you have to do is pick someone that you know in your heart would be just as happy reading something like this about them as I know Sebastian would be reading it about him. 

Go forth. Go forward.

Never give up, you can do it, sometimes you might just need a little support from your sunshine to keep going when you’re at your lowest. And that it exactly what Sebastian Stan does for me. So thank you, Sebs, you’re my hero.

[doa-et]

Race Report: UTMB, 2018 or (How I learned to stop worrying and ran 2 races in 70 days)

When I won the starting place for Western States 2018, I thought I had used up all my race lottery luck for this year. Little did I know that I’d get into UTMB as well, second year in a row. Once the initial excitement subsided, I was faced with a small challenge. The races are only about two months apart and they feature dissimilar profiles and terrains. How would I go about training for both? The short version: I opted to focus on the more “run-able“ WSER first, then reassess in July.

Relying on the base training laid down for WSER, the 10 weeks leading up to UTMB concentrated on recovery, slowly increasing my mileage in a reverted taper and just listened to my body. There are dozens of training plans for marathons and ultra-marathons out there but they are mostly tailored for one race, not two races in fairly quick succession. A few weeks after WSER, my legs regained their freshness and I began to incorporate hill repeats: hiking up with poles, running down steep slopes fast, chasing some Strava KOMs. In hindsight, I may have done the latter a bit too vigorously as my hip flexors, lower back and quad muscles felt a bit stressed 2-3 weeks away from the race. Uh oh. Regardless, I still felt pretty strong and confident overall when I entered the tapering phase. Time to pack. A quick summary of UTMB 2017: As mentioned, this was my second year in Chamonix. Martin and I completed the race together last year in 34:53, just a handful of minutes under the 35 hour goal we set for ourselves. It was an especially cold year and we even encountered a blizzard on one of the peaks. It was tough and unforgiving. I forgot my poles at one of the stations and to double back to retrieve them. That sucked. Took a short nap. Felt refreshed. Started to lose our minds a little on the second night. Hey, we finished.

As an “experienced” UTMB runner, my goal for this year was simple. Improve on the previous year’s record. I really took my time at aid stations, sticking around for 30 minutes at some places. I don’t necessarily regret that for my first attempt, but if I keep the dawdling to a minimum, it just might be possible to shave off an hour or so. And the weather was looking more favourable this time around. Even better.

I arrived in Chamonix on Monday and did a couple of short runs and hikes with my girlfriend during the week leading up to the race. The excitement of the race week in Chamonix was coming back to me: the tension, the dramatic silhouette of the mountains, thousands of runners from around the globe, the weather. THE WEATHER. As Friday approached, the weather prognosis worsened and the dark clouds hanging low over Mont Blanc brought back the fears and traumatic memories from 2017. Cold, rain and with bad visibility. Frozen fingers. Shudders.

I guess I did indeed use up my luck this year on the race lottery. With not much to do after lunch except to anxiously pace around the hotel room, I headed out to the start line two hours early. Why not. A good spot would save me the queueing later. Unbeknownst to me at the time, it also meant standing in the rain for two hours. Just like the year before, the atmosphere was a bit like we were going to war than going to enjoy a trail race. Eventually, Conquest of Paradise played over the PA system and the gun went off. As I was positioned more or less directly behind the seeded runners, I found myself running amidst a pretty fast group at 4:40 min/km pace for the first 3km. Stupidly fast, I thought. I dropped back and fell in with a group running at a more comfortable pace all the way to Les Houches. With the cheering crowd giving me all the motivation I needed, I took on the first climb.

I had my splits from 2017 laminated in my pocket to keep track if I was going out too fast or needed to make up time. My plan was to take it easy until Courmayeur (80km) and keep something left in the tank for the latter half of the race.

Nevertheless, I arrived 15 minutes ahead of last year’s time in St. Gervais and 22 minutes ahead in Les Contamines (32km). Physically, I was fine but mentally I felt my motivation slipping. The rain came down harder over the first climb and I dreaded going into the night in the worsening weather condition. There is a commuter train from St. Gervais to Chamonix. Maybe it’s still running. A taxi from Les Contamines. Surely, the €50 I have tucked away in my vest for emergencies should be enough. Alas, I didn’t have a solid reason to DNF. Not yet. I can’t quit because of rain. Not while my legs felt fine. But knowing how long the journey ahead is, knowing how it was last year, just knowing was becoming a burden. Sometimes, experience isn’t an advantage but an obstacle. As I continued the endless climb up away from Les Contamines with these thoughts, the rain finally ceased, instantly turning my mood. At La Balme (39km), I heeded the warnings of cold and wind from the volunteers and put on all the layers I could to face Col du Bonhomme. I guess I was committed now. Into the night of climbing and descending we go! It was all flooding back to me. That 50km-stretch between Les Contamines and Courmayeur. That sight of impressive parade of headlamps on the climb to Col de la Seigne. And the anticipation of daylight ahead. I arrived in Courmayeur at 06:47. I stalled the most between Courmayeur and Champex Lac (125 km) the previous year. I hesitate to say “wasted time” because in the grand scheme of things, it’s hard to know. Maybe I needed to take it slower back then. Maybe not. Still in good physical form, it was nice to be in not just the daylight, but also the sun. It seems always sunny in Courmayeur, no matter how bad the weather overall is at UTMB. I grabbed my drop bag, changed shirts, ate some pasta and left within 25 minutes to take on the 800m climb to Refugio Bertone. On the 15k-long stretch of rolling high country from Bertone to the foot of Grand Col Ferret, I moved fairly well. The ascent to Grand Col Ferret (the highest alt. point in the race), however, was stormy, foggy and indeed very cold. At least it didn’t snow like last time. Yes, let’s focus on the positives.

The long downhill to La Fouly was a segment I really struggled with in the past and it was just as tough this time. My legs weren’t really up for much running at this point but I pushed myself as much as possible knowing that I’d make up time and possibly avoid doing the last three mountains with a headlamp. The plan was working. While I didn’t shave off drastic amounts of time from running, keeping the aid station stops to a minimum began to add up. Refill bottles, get coffee, sit and eat for few minutes, grab more food while walking out. Repeat ad nauseum. I hit Champex Lac before 4pm, about 01:45h ahead. Best of all, I was able to climb the third last mountain in daylight, leaving my headlamp off until Trient (141km). By now, I had been running with the same group of people for hours. With the end sort of within reach, everyone loosened up. We chatted about our shared dread of upcoming segment or informed each other of the dramatic turn of events that took place amongst the elites (so many DNFs!), making the time pass faster and the endeavour more bearable. What wasn’t bearable was my downhill running. Every single muscle was complaining and my brain was too tired to coordinate the feet over the technical terrain. Bad combo. Still, I must have been moving in some fashion because I was suddenly through Vallorcine (152km) and hiking up the last climb. Ah, the last climb. It’s actually two climbs, interrupted by an extremely steep and technical (albeit short) downhill. I recalled how frustrating that treacherous downhill was, and how much anguish I had felt upon hearing of the second climb. But this time, I came prepared. As I made my careful ascent and descent, I passed two runners staring at their mobile phones who asked if they were on the right track. I reassured them that they were, not losing the opportunity to spread the good news of the second climb ahead. Just paying it forward. La Flégère, 8km from and 900m above the finish line in Chamonix. I had been running for around 31 hours and 10 minutes. Sub-32 sounded tempting but also a bit too ambitious, considering the state of my legs. The first 5km of the last downhill stretch is technical and steep. No need to do anything stupid and risky at this point. With 3.5km to go, the trail smoothed out and as if placements would matter at this point, some guys behind me started charging. And well, so did I. I caught a person after a minute who subsequently also picked up the pace. In no time, we were a small group having a little 3km sprint to the finish. Or at least it felt like a sprint. I was breathing hard and sweating, although the actual pace wasn’t any faster than my regular jogging pace. But things are different after 32 hours. I entered the town closely followed by four other runners. A few meters later my girlfriend Esther was cheering me on at the base of the pedestrian overpass. This metal contraption, by the way, was a new addition for the race. I suppose UTMB had to erect this temporarily as it could no longer block the road for the event. According to Esther, it gave some runners unexpected grief. Stairs or no, I still ran as hard as I could towards the finish.

32 hours 06 minutes. 2:06 am. 2 hours and 47 minutes faster than 2017. 190th place overall. And one black toe nail.

So what have I learned from my second time at UTMB? That I can save so much time by just efficiently progressing through aid stations. And with slightly better descents (downhill splits after 100km actually were slightly slower than last year), I am certain that it should be possible to finish under 30 hours. It might have even been feasible this year, if I had concentrated the training solely on UTMB. I also learned from both WSER and UTMB that I can gain quite a lot of motivation from splits, either chasing or running away from them. Running in the mid-pack can sometimes lack the urgency and splits can add back some of the necessary tension and excitement into the sluggish sections. Plus they can provide reassurance and objectivity when I often feel slower than I actually am towards the latter parts of races. Nutrition: I ate mostly aid station food: noodle soup during the first cold and wet half of the race, coffee with cake and a dozen mini Snickers during the second half. Occasional GU-chews. Water in one bottle and 70/30 cola-water mix in the second. Did not feel bonky or bloated and no major stomach issues as expected on slower-paced races.

Strava

[sxminfo]

David Redor: 52nd marathon of his incredible 2016 challenge – A marathon that should have been the last but wasn’t!

52 marathons in 52 weeks in the 50 states, plus Washington D.C. and the Bahamas: This was the challenge that David Redor – -Crazy Dave– had set himself for 2016. And on December 17, 2016, he completed his challenge! The 52nd marathon in Little Rock, AK was supposed to be the last of his 2016 challenge, but it wasn’t… In September 2016, while he was running the marathons of his initial Challenge, Redor realized that taking the dietary supplement Immun’Âge® allowed him to recover faster. And he started running “extra marathons”, as he called them, with 100 marathons within a year in mind. On December 31, 2016, after having run one marathon a day during the last weeks of the year, his 100-marathon-challenge was also completed!

David Redor has managed an amazing feat by running not 52 but 100 marathons within a year!

Endowed with extraordinary physical and psychological abilities, David Redor was able to manage – for a full year – all difficulties that come with long distance running, such as terrible weather conditions, dehydration, and many more. Never failing, he was able to avoid getting hurt or worn-out. Despite the very many trips that he had to take to get to each of the 50 states after each race, he never lost energy and completed both challenges in great shape, ready for new adventures.

Below are some interesting facts and numbers regarding the 100 marathons that David Redor ran in 362 days:

• 2,621.8 race miles, i.e. 4,500,000 strides (40 years of marathons for a reasonable runner!) • 6 pairs of running shoes • 26.6 lbs. lost • 1,130 packets of Immun’Âge®, a fermented Papaya dietary supplement with unique antioxidative and immunostimulant properties. • Some 80 gallons of Gatorade while racing • Biggest difference in elevation change while ascending: Manitou Springs-Pikes Peak Summit (CO) 6,358 ft-14,114 ft. • Biggest difference in elevation change while descending: Madison-Enny (MT) 8,599 ft-4,941 ft. • 1 marathon run in underwear (suitcase was lost)! • 1 lost suitcase • 1 bag forgotten in a plane • 125 flights • 97,413 miles traveled by plane • 11 airlines: American, United, Delta, JetBlue, Frontier, Southwest, Westjet, Suncountry, Alaska, Ravn, Hawaiian • 8 trains • 625 miles traveled by train • 5 long distance buses • 693 miles traveled by bus • 36 rental cars • 12,762 miles traveled by car • Stopped twice by the police: one for speeding, once for driving without headlights. (I did not receive any ticket and offered a signed David Redor postcard to the officers.) • 1 saved deer! (He was stuck in a fence.) • 49 Airbnb rentals • 35 hotels

Below is the text that David Redor wrote for his 52nd marathon.

Little Rock Marathon: Two gifts to end with a flourish!

After two weeks on the magnificent Hawaiian Islands, I went back to the continent experiencing a drastic change of temperature: It was 30° F when I got to Little Rock, AK. Tough change especially as I had to take several flights during the night. As soon as I landed, I first got my bib and then went to my hotel for a good rest.

After a good night’s sleep, I woke up at 5:15 with the alarm clock. I took three packets of Immun’Âge® as always before a marathon, and a few minutes later I had a fresh fruit juice and a cereal bar for breakfast. As I was getting ready, I checked the weather outside and got a great surprise! Some sort of miracle had happened: the temperature went from 30 to 68° F during the night! The first gift of the day.

I went to take the shuttle bus that took five minutes to get us to the start: we arrived around 6:30. I chatted with a few runners who were congratulating me… In a few hours, indeed, I was to complete my 2016 Challenge! 52 marathons in 52 weeks in the 50 states, plus D.C. and in the Bahamas…

After the national anthem, the run started: it was 7 o’clock. We started along the Arkansas River with a good pace. We crossed the Big Dam Bridge and ran on the other bank. I reached km 5 in 30 minutes. The sun was rising, the weather was good and the course flat and fast. Everything was well. We were running on the trail along the river and this was quite engaging.

I reached km 10 in 59 minutes feeling that I was going to accomplish a good marathon time. There were a few decent hills but nothing drastic. My pace was good. We headed towards Little Rock. At km 15 (reached in 1:29) we ran uphill across the second bridge, the Clinton Presidential Bridge. We turned around on the other bank of the river and took the same course back towards the start/finish line.

It was a beautiful hike. There were not too many people to encourage us but the volunteers working at the Aid stops created an exciting ambiance as it had often been the case this year! I really felt well. I reached km 20 in 2:00 and the half marathon in 2:06. I was on the pace to reach my personal best, which motivated me even more. I was in good spirits and was psyched up for doing a good time. We crossed the Big Dam Bridge back. I reached km 25 in 2:32.

We passed by the start/finish line at km 30 (reached in 3:06) and ran up the third bridge, the Two Rivers Bridge. We took the trail back on the other bank towards a park for a large loop. My back started hurting but nothing severe. The run was soon over: I was not going to let anything get in the way of me doing a good time for my 52nd and last marathon. I reached km 35 in 3:41. Steve, whom I met while running the marathon in Kansas, joined me but I left him behind after a short while.

It started to drizzle a bit, but I could see the finish line. There was no way that the light rain would stop me. I sped up from km 40 – reached in 4:18 – until the finish line which I crossed in 4:36:15 (marathon distance in 4:33:58). This was the second gift that I got that day.

They took my picture and congratulated me. I grabbed something to eat for later and rushed to the shuttle to get back to my car. I had to hurry up as I had to catch a flight to Jacksonville where I was to resume my other challenge! While performing my 52-marathon-in-a-year challenge, I realized that I could reach the magical number of 100 marathons and had started to run many extra marathons. I still have to run one marathon every day to complete this second challenge by December 31.

My initial 2016 Challenge is done: one marathon in each of the 50 states, DC and Nassau in 52 weeks!

I had a wonderful year in this beautiful country where I have discovered magnificent places and met wonderful people. It’s time to be thankful and take stock.

I would like to thank: • Pierre MANTELLO for his sponsorship and huge contribution to my challenge. Many thanks for introducing me to his extraordinary product Immun’Âge®. Without Pierre, and without the properties of his fermented papaya dietary supplement, this challenge would have certainly been way more difficult. • My friends Thierry POMIES, Peggy MILLARD and LINKWORK VENTURES for their welcome, logistic and technical help around the clock, their PR work and the great dinners that helped me put back some kilos when I needed them the most! • Florent LETUVEE at SXM INFOS for his huge PR work with the media as well as his work as Webmaster for my site and my Facebook page, and for many more contributions! The man can do everything! • Soufiane BAKADA at Immun’Âge® for his efficient reactivity. He was a solid and invaluable help particularly when it came to logistics and when I did not have time to take care of bookings. • Elizabeth KRISEK and Scott GOODRICH for their editing and translating my texts, as well as for their welcome. They were a great help. • Gilles DUFOUR, McDonald’s AVIGNON, for his generous financial contribution. • Ludovic MOUNIER, EGD FINANCE, for his friendship and financial support (not the first time): a loyal sponsor! • Stéphane and Yoan PEYRONNY for their financial contribution as well as for the great evenings every time I came back to Saint Martin! Thanks for the good beers that perked me up! • Claudia and the SPORTECH store for the high-quality sports gear they supplied me with. • Vincent JACQUEMIN and the LOUBSOL co for their high-quality runner’s glasses! A fantastic product… made in France! • Fadi HASBANI and HARLEY DAVIDSON SUPERBIKES SXM for their jacket that I wore almost every day. Great product! • Florian MANIERE, Vincent VERGEZ and CUBE co for their financial contribution. • MARCO at the YELLOW BEACH RESTAURANT for his kind financial contribution. • Pascal CASTAING, SERIGRAPHIX co, for his screen printing work on my runner’s outfits. • Fabrice LAUTEL of the organic bar restaurant SUSHIS N JUICE for his invaluable contacts. • Patrick BELISE at MB COACHING for his kind financial contribution. • Lévy TONY for his kind financial contribution.

Many thanks to all of you, friends and family, who have followed me, motivating and encouraging me all year long: that was such a great help!

To conclude, I chose a quotation that I found great. It reflects very well what I have experienced this year as well as life in general.

Happy New Year to all of you!

“… There is no happiness without courage nor virtue without struggle.” Jean-Jacques Rousseau

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David Redor: 52nd marathon of his incredible 2016 challenge – A marathon that should have been the last but wasn’t! David Redor: 52nd marathon of his incredible 2016 challenge - A marathon that should have been the last but wasn’t!