Urban Assault.

Swag UAR t-shirt.  It's actually a pretty nice shirt!

Some months ago, M asked me if I wanted to do the Urban Assault race with her.  She has done it for the past three years and always talked about how much she loved it and how fun it was.  This year I got called up from the bench when her old partner subtly asked if she could switch partners to race with her girlfriend.  M did not have a problem with that.  In fact, when we signed up, she told me that they had come in fourth last year but that I was faster than her old partner so she fully intended to win this year.  No pressure.

Regardless, I was in. And, excited.  Unfortunately, as it turned out, I have been out of town and/or just not riding or working out that much for the past few weeks due to work.  But whatever, I was still in it to win it.  

We had a 7:45 strategy meeting at Starbucks before heading to the starting point.  Of course, we got slightly lost.  Not a great omen. 

Urban Assualt is a bike race sponsored by New Belgium (among others) that involves seven checkpoints around the city.  The first five they give you immediately.  Last Thursday, they gave us a clue in the form of a word search puzzle to the sixth checkpoint.  Once you arrive at the first mystery checkpoint, you are given a clue to the second.  At five of the checkpoints, you have to perform some obstacle (today, running around a baseball field to find numbers that tied to letters in a word jumble type thing, doing an obstacle course with highs and lows while balancing two balls on two poles horizontally between us, bouncing a tennis ball into a bucket with one person tossing and the second using a wooden cutout as a backboard, hiking a shoe (a la a football) and having your partner catch it with a net, and one person riding in a circle while holding a foam sword while the other tried to toss rings on it) and collect a bead.  Return without one of the beads and you get a ten HOUR penalty.  

The all-important beads.

So, we had a tentative route based on going to the mystery point first and working our way around.  Seemed simple enough.  Until we got on our bikes for the first sprint to the mystery checkpoint during which I thought I might die, or at least throw up.  Between having a slower bike (M rides a road bike, I have a hybrid) and just not working out much, I was not fully prepared for this. Once we got past the first checkpoint (at which, we just collected our bead and took a picture of the second mystery checkpoint to text to our friend, L, who agreed to be our phone-a-friend), things simmered down a bit.  We were still riding essentially all-out the entire time but it was not as big of a pack.  By the time we got to the sixth checkpoint, we were on our own more or less.

Parts of the roads were so bumpy and broken (actual gaping holes) that I wished I had a mountain bike.  As it was, I was about a block slower than M thanks to my slow-ass (and slow-ass bike).  However, that worked out just fine. She would arrive first, figure out the obstacle and check our route for where-to once completed.  I may have slowed her down but not hugely, for which I was thankful.

Our friend L figured out the mystery checkpoint for us and we realized it made sense for it to be our last checkpoint.  When we arrived to collect our bead, they told us we were the first of the women's teams through.  Yay!  So, we got to the finish, did our big wheel race to the end, strung our beads and ran to the finish.  At which point, they told us we weren't first.  Drat.

We killed some time -- both before prize time and until the truck with lost-and-found items returned -- with our free beers (yes, at 10:45 am).  They asked us what we normally drank when we were stumbling in our order.  We said prosecco and asked if they had any sparkling.  They didn't find that funny.

We also got out shirts silk-screened.  Neither of us had thought ahead to bring a second shirt so we were down to sports bras in the middle of Wrigleyville for a few minutes but it was worth it as the result was pretty cute and very race-appropriate.

Guess what we are wearing next year?

Around noon, they announced the winners and wouldn't you know, Team Lissy was in first place for the women's division.  The men's division beat us by 20 minutes -- they were 25 minutes faster than google maps anticipated, and that was without any obstacles! We've determined that we lost at least 10 minutes due to our poor performance on obstacles but they probably were just that much faster.  Regardless, we will take our W and resulting backpack prizes and come back to defend our title next year.  Our goal for next year is to just flat-out win the whole thing.  (Clearly not for the prize, which is as much beer as you are tall.)

If only I hadn't bought a backpack last week!

Like a G6 (or 900 Falcon).

Among the many things that do not suck in life: flying private.

Friday night was my first, and in all likelihood, last experience of flying on a private plane.  But, it definitely does not suck.

 I'm on record as saying that I like airports.  And, I do.  But, you know all the things that can be annoying or stressful about flying? They simply do not exist when you fly privately.  Traffic making you late?  Doesn't matter.  So long as you are with the person who owns (or, at least is paying for) the plane, it is not leaving without you no matter how late you are.  Security makes you take off shoes, belts, jackets and laptops (potentially allowing for the old switcheroo)?  No worries.  There is none of that.  You just drop off your luggage like a gate check and walk up the stairs on to the plane.

The aforementioned stairs up the plane.

Equipped eight leather captain's chairs and two couches, the plane could comfortably sit fourteen.  There were eight of us on the flight.  Before you ask, yes, there were snacks and drinks possible (bottles of wine, mini-bar sized liquor, and beer, along with water and sodas).  No, I did not partake beyond a water and a banana. These were my views for most of the ride:

Straight ahead into the pilot's world.

Can't beat that out the window.

A mere hour and a half later, we landed at Midway, ready to be whisked home via car service.  Mo' money, mo' problems, sure, but travelling isn't one.

Trying.

It is the eve of my first out of town trial.  And, so far, it has been a mix of the expected and unexpected.

Expected:

• Wilmington, Delaware is as scenic as ever for me.  And, by that I mean, I have stayed at the same hotel, walked across the same square, and sat in the same conference rooms that I have seen on every other (both) trip(s) I've made here;
• Long hours.  Average is a steady 14 hours per day so far this week;
• The partner I work with on this is as reasonable, efficient, pleasant and generally nice to be around as ever; and, 
• My health has suffered greatly.  I have not been working out (I got to the gym for exactly 20 minutes of cardio this morning and that has been a high for the week). There is a snack table that I have to walk by at least twenty times per day and I CANNOT NOT STOP at that snack table, even if it is just for a spark-in-the-dark lifesaver.  I'm mainlining sugar and caffeine.

Unexpected:

• Not so much a team spirit feeling.  Nary a go-team has been uttered (by anyone other than me at least);
• No fire drills (so far).  While the hours have been long, it hasn't been super stressful.  Just a lot to do but everything has been under control at least for the tasks for which my little team has been responsible; and,
• The catered meals have not included pizza.  Most people appreciate our host firm's efforts to think outside the group meal box but I'd much rather pull a slice out of the pizza box.

Wish us luck tomorrow and Friday.  GO TEAM!

Glamorama 2012.

I say it every year because it is true: Glamorama is one of my favorite events of the year.  Just the perfect mix of fashion, music, fancy, and party.

My only quibble with Glam is that it is always on a Friday.  Last year, M had to rush to make it thanks to work.  This year, I was the one rushing (although it was to make it to dinner more than Glam).  On the plus side, it never takes me very long to get ready for it -- throw on a dress, add some makeup, grab your ticket and you can be out the door in ten minutes.  It is not like a formal event where the hair takes forever.  

Prior to heading to the Harris Theater, we had dinner at Aria.  M and I wanted to go there since watching Top Chef's most recent season.  After a death-defying cab ride, we were thankful to be there.  Unfortunately, no one seemed even halfway as thankful to see us.  We had to flag our server down and express our need to leave within an hour.  The food was very tasty but the atmosphere was a little odd.  I chalk that up to its location in a hotel.

From dinner, we walked a block to the show and afterparty which were held at a new venue -- the Harris Theater.  The historical venue for the event is the Chicago Theater and the After Party on Macy's seventh floor.  I'm of mixed feelings about the change but overall, I think I prefer the old venues.  On the plus side for the new venue, everything was in one place.  There was no block-long mad dash to get the afterparty.  On the minus side, the new venue was smaller, which made it seem like you did everything you could possible do in one circuit around.  That said, it was still super fun.

Our annual picture provided by Patron:

L, me, K and M.  I have no idea why my head looks so small.

This year's new photo opp, the flipbook: