On a borrowed idea from friends of one of my sisters, we have decided to visit a different state every year for our anniversary. So, as September 6th marks two years of marital bliss for the Serenos, West Virginia has the honor this year. At Hollywood Casino, formerly known as Charles Town Races and Slots, we lined the rails today with a gaggle of local handicappers and cheered our chosen horses as the galloped by. One such creature, aptly named Marital Bliss, paid off handsomely for us. Two years down, two states in the books (after we checked off exotic Virginia last year). The next 48 states have a lot to live up to.
Other
Throughout the course of the day today I had several conversations that led to this entry. First, a clarification: In two months time I am going to cease daily entries. That said, I highly doubt that I’ll be able to end my blogging career “cold turkey.” Simply said, I have too much fun taking advantage of a forum that allows me to express myself, share my thoughts, and poke fun at the lovable absurdities of life as a Sereno, to ever fully cut ties with my blogging identity. I just wanted to give fair warning that nightly entries will no longer be a priority of mine, while it remains to be seen if I’ll write every other day, once-a-week, biweekly, etc. (On a side note, does biweekly mean every other week or twice-a-week, because I think i could make an argument for both?)
Additionally, if you tried to leave a comment today but were ultimately unable, first of all, thank you. Please know how much I enjoy reading the comments. Second of all, my apologies. I have an explanation that might interest you. When this blog became overrun by spam I noticed some trends in the spamming practices. The majority of the unwanted comments contained words like “blog”, “website”, “site”, etc., as well as the names of dozens of prescription drugs and some words that I’m not going to repeat here. (I felt like I was on the school bus again, learning a whole new vocabulary in my middle school years.) Anyway, I reasoned that if I blocked comments using some of the aforementioned words, then it would significantly reduce the amount of spam that struck. It’s an on-going process. My rationale was that legitimate comments wouldn’t use those words regularly, since the topics covered herein seldom use Internet nomenclature, and tend to focus on GBM, running (and Jersey Shore). So, my apologies if an intended comment didn’t make it through, but perhaps that explains why.
Other
It is with mixed emotions that I bring news and fair warning today of my plans following my Halloween marathon and two-year anniversary of my November 6th, 2008 craniotomy. Someday soon, in the early days of November - most likely on November 6th - my blogging life will come to a halt. I have considered authoring weekly updates, or otherwise periodic anecdotes about the things that I see, experience, read, think and hear - but I’m not certain if that will transpire. What I am sure of is that my days of daily blogging will come to an end in approximately two months time; a perfect time, in my opinion, as I celebrate my new life as a marathoner, 24-months after I learned of the 18-month prognosis for GBM survival. Since I’ll no longer be training for an endurance race, nor will I necessarily spend the same amount of time each day putting my thoughts into words, I have wondered how I’ll occupy my time. What excites me is the fact that I have many options, and I’m not quite sure which to pick. One day I want to write a book. I also want to author a movie screenplay, become fluent in Spanish, and learn to play a musical instrument (either the piano or harmonica). Which will I do come Fall? I haven’t decided, but I’ll have a good amount of free time on my hands that was otherwise occupied since November, 2008 - and I truly can’t wait to see what my future may hold. More to come, but in the meantime, please know how sincerely grateful I am for your support on this wild ride of mine.
Other
Unlike the situation in April at our condo complex (http://briansereno.com/?p=1563), today’s living nightmare in Silver Spring, MD (http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/us_discovery_channel_gunman) didn’t elicit the wide-ranging scope of emotions that I felt a few months ago. When one of neighbors barricaded himself inside his home and eventually took his own life because he couldn’t pay his bills, how could I not feel a great deal of empathy and sadness over that situation. It made me appreciate my own lot in life so much more. That said, the madman that was gunned down by law enforcement today elicited no sadness of any kind. Unfortunately this world is full of the deranged, but tonight there is one less to worry about. I wish it didn’t have to happen this way, and the loss of human life is never anything to celebrate, but I can’t think of any worse way to try to bring attention to a cause than to take innocent lives hostage. Amidst all of the things that I’m concerned about, television programming just doesn’t make the cut.
Other
Two years ago, during the final days of August and first few days of September, images like this haunted my dreams (http://www.weather.com/outlook/weather-news/news/articles/tropical-depression-seven-storm-hurricane-earl-swa_2010-08-25). The storm at the time was Hurricane Hannah, and while I’m typically not fearful of such events, our wedding day was scheduled for 9/6/08, and an uninvited guest threatened to roar in. Hour by hour we watched the weather channel, and drove so much traffic to weather.com that it’s a wonder that it didn’t crash and burn, all the while Hannah danced and darted her way towards us with a northwesterly spin. Ultimately, Hannah did hit us, but only as a Tropical Storm that quickly blew through with spare time for the sun to bless our wedding by day’s end. Two years later Hannah provides just a funny footnote to our special day. The moral of the story for those that are tracking Earl’s climb towards us out of fear that he might crash your wedding, fret not. All of the hurricanes in history combined can’t blow away the pillars of a strong marriage. Laugh your way through it. Try as you might, there is simply nothing else you can do.
Other
After another sensational episode of Jersey Shore tonight, next Thursday can’t come soon enough. However, while I wait, stories like this (http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/news/story?id=5499126) continue to touch me. I hope that even if for one series only, Mets fans will be happy for the individual successes of an opponent.
Other
Two links of note today. This one should amuse you (http://tatewatkins.org/post/988662739/im-working-cheryl), as I certainly got a kick out of it - if only because his dog and my sister share a name. “This is my moment, Cheryl!” Good for the gentleman dancer featured herein. Enjoy your 15 seconds of fame.
On a more somber note, here’s a sad tale that I pray ends well and brings some closure to people that deserve it (http://www.aolnews.com/nation/article/randy-white-fights-to-expose-cancer-cluster-near-frederick-maryland/19588039).
GBM, Other
Before I tell you about all of the celebrations and happenings that occurred this past Sunday, it is germane to revisit my distant past. Rewind back to 1986 or so (the specific date isn’t all that important), when I was a (relatively) good Catholic boy in a household that went to church every Sunday. One Sunday morning my Dad brought me and Cheryl to church, and we arrived early enough to sit in one of the center pews on the main aisle towards the front of the church. Our positioning was important because I had a plan. I was aiming to be the one in the congregation that delivered the communion bread and wine to the priest at the appropriate time during the service. Never before had I done so, and until last Sunday, never since have I had the honor either. Why? Well, 23 years ago during my exchange with the priest, out of excitement or nerves or just plain butter-fingers perhaps, I dropped the communion bread on the floor, scattering the hundreds of small triangular pieces across the alter. I froze. Too scared to cry, sure I was going to straight to hell, I think I blacked out. The next thing I remember I was at a nearby convenience store being consoled with baseball cards, as for the first time in my life one of my misdeeds was truly accidental and I was taking it hard. Somehow I recovered - the resilience of a seven-year-old, I guess - but never again was I brave enough to volunteer to deliver the gifts. Fast forward to the present, and upon entering the church for Natalie’s baptism on Sunday, Cheryl’s husband Phil greeted me with a friendly yet oddly sinister grin. ”You have a chance at redemption,” he said, as he was well aware of my troubled past in the church. ”We have nominated you to bring up the gifts.” Inwardly I cringed, though outwardly I agreed. ”I’m 30,” I reminded myself. ”I can do this.” The time came. Denise and Phil’s brother, Carl, joined me. This walk would be harder than the last time, 23 years ago. Holy Cross in Baltimore kept the bread and wine in the back of the church, unlike Holliston’s St. Mary’s where the gifts were stored up front. Not only would I have to cleanly pass off the precious gifts to the priest, but I would have to make it safely down the aisle as well. Like a running back with two hands on the ball as I warded off defenders, I succeeded. Redemption at last. Picture proof of me at work…
By comparison, the rest of my day on Sunday was easy. Yes, I ran 18-miles, but I was aided by an energy-boosting Cliff Bar at mile 6 and mile 12. When I ran 16 miles a few weeks back, I foolishly thought I could exercise for nearly three hours straight without refueling (runner’s lingo for eating). On Sunday I wasn’t nearly so dumb. I inhaled the first Cliff Bar one-third of the way through, and while the second one didn’t go down as easily at the 2/3 mark, I can’t argue with the results. I had the juice to finish, though not with the finishing kick that I like. Still, 3:10:08 after I started to run, I was home. 18 miles is now in my past too. 20 awaits.
Other, Running
The details that I promised you of my day on Sunday will have to wait until tomorrow, as other thoughts have dominated my mind today. Let it be known that I love my job, and that with each day that passes I become more and more thankful that I am gainfully employed during a time when far too many aren’t nearly as fortunate. I take pride in what I do, and I recognize the role that PR people play in a world of sports that means so much to so many. That said, as you can read for yourself below, there are days like today when it becomes crystal clear that while this funny business of mine can be wonderfully enjoyable, it can also be unfortunately difficult, and tragically painful all at the same time. Best of luck goes to Zack (http://voices.washingtonpost.com/dcsportsbog/2010/08/goodbye_to_zack_bolno_for_now.html#more), to whom I owe so much for teaching me a great deal. Zack is far too talented and respected to be out of work for long, so while my thoughts are with him, my prayers are needed elsewhere. I wish I could find a way to come to terms with this unspeakable tragedy (http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2010/writers/jack_mccallum/08/23/matt.dobek/), but my prayers and condolences are all I can muster. Please keep Matt’s family in your prayers as well as we all struggle to comprehend such heartbreaking circumstances.
Other
Sunday, August 22nd will surely be a day to remember for two reasons that I can currently think of - one of infinitely greater significance than the other. While I’ll personally tackle an 18-mile run tomorrow night, armed with a pair of Cliff Bars and G2s (Gatorade’s low(er) sugar option), what will transpire tomorrow morning in Baltimore is the real reason that tomorrow will be such a memorable day. At 9:00 am on Sunday morning, my four-months and seven days old niece, Natalie Maria, will be baptized in Charm City. Pictures will be taken by the hundreds, and hugs shared by the dozens, with oohs and ahhs exclaimed across the city. I’ll then hope to finish the day as I’ll start it - rejoicing with a smile ear to ear.
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