ABQ 4 Boston 5-K

Yesterday, Aaron and I joined other local Boston Marathoners, Boston Marathon spectators (aka the husbands, wives, and children of the runners), and other Albuquerque runners/walkers to raise money for the Boston First Responders Fund.   Like many other people who were at the Finish Line, we’ve been searching for ways to provide meaningful support to the people of Boston. There is no doubt that the encouragement and hospitality from Bostonians toward the people who run the marathon is unparalleled.  They take their job as runner support very seriously, and they do it well.  During their time of need, we want to give that same support back to them.

This race allowed us to do that.  100% of every race registration went directly to Boston.  The goal was to send $47,00 from the 47th state, and while I thought they announced that we reached that goal, I think we came in at just over $30,000.  Still, an amazing effort with less than 2 weeks of planning!

Beth, who graciously let me hang out with her in the Hopkington bus line, was one of the volunteers, so we got to see her and meet other Boston runners including one guy who ran the marathon with a broken foot and STILL managed to come in much faster than me.  Boston runners got to lead the race as the other runners cheered loudly and gave us high-fives.  It was amazing to see the support not only for Boston, but for the people who ran the marathon.

Presentation1Leading the way! (I’m the one in yellow, Beth is wearing the adorable tank top that I wish I purchased)

The race started at 1:00 pm (kudos to the race people for getting this together so fast, but I would have been ok had the race started earlier in the day), and it was about 85 degrees yesterday.  I wanted to wear something from the race, but the only thing I bought at the expo was the Unicorn Jacket, so I opted to wear the long-sleeved race t-shirt with the understanding that this would likely be a very uncomfortably hot run. (It was).

After the ceremonial start, I pulled off to the side so I could run with Aaron, and I spotted Niecy, another Albuquerque blogger who I have corresponded with via the internet but never met (her legs alone are easily longer than I am.  NOT FAIR).  We did a quick double take (is that her? or not? maybe?), waved excitedly when we both realized that we WERE who we are, and then continued on our race.

The race itself was…interesting.  The course was mostly on soft sand, and I’m still not all that recovered from the marathon, but Aaron ran with me (this NEVER happens during races), and I think we did ok (neither of us wore Garmins, and the race was untimed, so I could be very wrong).

I also had a couple of ladies ask to take pictures with me.  It was quite humbling to have these people think I was cool enough to warrant a picture.  Also, I’ve decided that I’d make a really good celebrity!


??????????????????????Sprinting toward the finish! 

???????????????????????????????Getting interviewed for the news (they didn’t end up using it because some dude went on a stabbing spree at a church and they had to cut the story short).  Thanks to my mom who was standing on the sidelines, rapidly snapping pictures during my interview! 

???????????????????????????????Group photo! I don’t know why we were holding the “pre-registered” sign…

While for us, the whole “moving on” thing is a day-by-day process, I think this event really showed us that 1) we aren’t alone, and 2) coming together as a community and supporting a city clear across the county is a great way to spend a warm Sunday afternoon.

A Big THANK YOU to Race Volunteers

You may not know it, but this week is National Volunteer’s Week (today is also Administrative Professionals Day, so don’t forget to to tell your favorite administrative professionals how much you appreciate them…or you know, buy them wine because they probably need it).

I work at a non-profit, so we do a lot of volunteer appreciation all the time, but I wanted to take a second to thank my other volunteers…RACE VOLUNTEERS.  Those who get up early on days off just to make sure that runners stay hydrated along the course, who make sure medals get placed with importance around sweaty necks, and who spend hours upon hours making sure every bib is placed in a bag with exactly 4 safety pins.

It definitely isn’t glamorous work.  They get sticky Gatorade thrown at them, they have frustrated runners yell at them when all of the size-small t-shirts are gone, they have to repeat the word “water” over and over and over again for hours at a time, and they have to keep enthusiastic (and sometimes drunk college-aged) spectators from running across the course during the race. But they do it, and they do it with amazing conviction.  I have seen plenty of volunteers frantically filling cups at an empty aid station but I have never seen one just stand there, waiting for someone else to do it.

Our running lives are greatly enhanced by the commitment of volunteers, and I would even venture to say that without the support they provide, the races that we train for and love so much would not exist.

So THANK YOU to anyone who has ever volunteered at a race to make my and my fellow runners’ experience better.  

You rock our little running world far more than you know.

And a special personal thanks to:

1) The aid station volunteers at the Bataan Memorial Death March who ALL sprung into immediate action to hand me snacks and drinks and cheers even though I was the only runner in the general area.

2) The nice MIT athletes who probably didn’t actually “volunteer” themselves to run the bus line to Hopkinton at 5:00 am on a school holiday, but still managed to keep everything flowing smoothly while helping poor little nervous runners like myself keep calm and collected with humor.

3) Actually, every single volunteer at the Boston Marathon this year. They saved lives, lifted spirits, and went above and beyond in various ways including handing out medals and gear bags long after the marathon was interrupted.

4) Anyone who has handed me a cup along the course.  I’m sorry for the amount of spillage I have caused.


The nice and helpful MIT Boys (in the yellow jackets).  THANK YOU, BOYS! I am on the bus in the 2nd row checking my cell phone (Aaron had just sent me a text message.  Apparently everyone in this picture knew he was taking it (including Beth in the front row!) except for me. 

One Week Later

I cannot believe how much has happened in the last week.

From waking up and lining up with Beth and Sheila at the ridiculously long bus line to Hopkinton at 6:45 am; crossing the start line with race-fueled adrenaline; swearing once again somewhere during miles 17-26 that I would NEVER ever even think of doing another marathon; taking a left on Boylston, spotting the finish line and mustering up every ounce of strength to get there;  to finally finding Aaron after walking the long finisher chute and getting to the family reunion area.

From hearing first one then two explosions, seeing the first emergency vehicles rush en masse toward the finish line and knowing right then that something very bad had happened; hearing for the first time that two bombs went off at the finish line; walking aimlessly around downtown Boston trying to get a call to go through to my parents; attempting to get text messages out to let people know that, while we had no idea if we were in danger or not, that for right now at least, we were alive and uninjured; watching officers with assault rifles barricade themselves around public transportation stops; to walking 2 miles to our hotel.

From turning on the hotel TV and seeing video of the incident for the first time and crying uncontrollably yet unsuccessfully because I was too dehydrated to produce tears; hearing the details and feeling scared, sad, and angry; walking around the Freedom trail on Tuesday and running into armed guards at every single street corner; finally getting home on Wednesday night and still not feeling at ease; reliving the day over and over as concerned coworkers came by to give me big hugs, hearing that photos of the suspects had been released, waking up on Friday morning to completely shocking news that one suspect was dead and one was on the loose, to updating coverage on my desktop all day, to getting home from work, turning on the news right away and watching the drama unfold live; to watching the ending with the capture of the second suspect.

Not to mention, flooding in the Midwest, an explosion in West, TX that killed 14, and earthquakes in China (and I think Iran and Mexico).

As the Onion headline says, “Jesus, This Week.”

All last week, I felt like we were living under a cloud.  Neither Aaron nor I could sleep, and I know I couldn’t watch anything aside from the news, I couldn’t sing in the car to the radio, and I couldn’t look at pictures of my marathon without feeling guilty about it.

I woke up Saturday feeling like a completely different person.  It is amazing to me how even just knowing that these (excuse my language) assholes cannot do any more harm or hurt any more people has lifted such a huge weight off my chest.  I have always felt, and I think the police have confirmed it based on the amount of weapons and bombs they’ve found, that this wasn’t the main event.  It was a trial run.  A test to see if they could pull it off and what they needed to improve.  Knowing that the attacks they had planned will never happen has brought so much peace to me, and likely to many others who have been attempting to make sense of this event over the past week.

The last post was written at 1:00 am on Monday.  I think I was so wrapped up in my personal experience, that it wasn’t even until Wednesday that I was able to start reading stories of the other people who were there.  As much as the whole thing has shook me to my core, we were so very lucky.  I had finished the race, I had my bag and my cell phone, and I had already reunited with Aaron.  I cannot imagine going through all that actively worried if your family and friends were ok but not having any way to contact them, especially with the end-of-race marathon exhaustion.  I saw far more people collapse toward the finish of this race than I did at Chicago, and I’m guessing that many runners didn’t get the medical attention they may have needed.  One lady on the plane with us was across the street and her purse was part of the active crime scene, so she was without her wallet and ID. But everyone got through it, and I haven’t heard any complaints.

Because we all know that despite the inconvenience, and even the emotional distress that we will likely experience for a long time, we did not lose our lives, and we made it out safely without injury.

Also significant are the stories of those people who HELPED.  People who pinched arteries with their fingers, people who ran to give blood after running a marathon, people who gathered displaced runners in their homes and fed them.  Even people who lent out their cell phones so others could contact loved ones.  More than anything, this event is a reminder that the good far outweighs the bad in this world. 

I do want to again (and forever) tell you how much I completely appreciate all of the concern and support I’ve received over the last week.  I know most readers of this blog are people who I only know through the internet.  While I am very excited to have added Beth and Jon, Ellie + Family to the list of of “real life” friends last week, I am so grateful for this community of running bloggers.  You have played such a huge part in my well-being this week, and I don’t know if you’ll ever know how much I appreciate it.

And I am working on that race recap.

While I was on the fence about running Boston 2014 even after crossing the finish line, I am positive now that I want to go back, if for no other reason, to “high-5” every kid and thank as many spectators as I can.  I don’t know if the qualifying standards will be waived or how registration will be handled.  I think it is absolutely fair to grant every runner who started but didn’t cross the finish line (about 4500-4700) an automatic entry.  Most of these runners were charity runners who weren’t running for themselves but to raise money for other causes.  And I know that maybe now my qualifying time might not get me in when every runner is doubling efforts to get there.  But I hope to get the chance to run next year in honor of the spectators, and in honor of those heroes who rushed in to help.

AT 2:50 p.m., Eastern Standard Time (in a few minutes), there will be a moment of silence to remember the four lives that were lost.  Martin Richard, Krystle Campbell, and Lu Lingzi who were at the finish line, encouraging tired runners to give it one last push, and Sean Collier, the law enforcement officer who spent his life protecting others have been in my thoughts and prayers this week.  I will remember them today, one week later, and for every race that I run for the reminder of my life.

The Boston Post

I mean, what can I say? I don’t know yet if I will ever do a race recap. Truthfully, anything before 2:50 pm is a blur. As much as I’m trying not to dwell, I can’t move past the fact that at least 3 people cheered me to the finish line and didn’t survive the hour.

I was about 45 minutes past the finish line and about 10 minutes reunited with Aaron when we heard and felt the explosions. It was Patriots Day, so it could have been a celebratory cannon, but the uneasiness of the crowd was thick. We did not see anything…we were a block away on the next street, but the crowd that had been so rowdy and joyful got very quiet, we all stood, and we all very calmly walked in the opposite direction. Moments later as sirens started sounding, we knew. The police officers getting out of cars with assault rifles was another clue that this wasn’t an accident. While I’m sure there was chaos closer to the blasts, I was surprised at how calm and collected if not completely disoriented everyone was. You don’t really have an exit plan when your location comes under attack.

As we fearfully walked, Aaron looked for updates on his phone and I tried to update on as many places as possible that we were not injured. Cell service was spotty (they eventually shut down cell service a little bit later), and I know several of my attempts were unsuccessful. Police with assault rifles started barricading in front of the subway entrances…for the routes we were standing over. The uncertainty was terrifying.

I know at some point I’ll be able to think about something else, but for right now, I am horrified, angry, sad, and grateful for our lives and the lives of everyone I know. My thoughts and prayers are with the victims and the families. I have never felt so personally attacked, and it is just barely starting to sink in that…it so very easily could have been us. I had a very hard time seeing the finish line video footage on the news.

Thank you again for all of your concern and support. Every tweet, text, and message I got during our long walk out of the city helped my tired legs push a bit longer.

I think there are several efforts today in remembrance of the tragedy. The one I’m seeing the most is to wear a race t-shirt in honor of the spectators and volunteers who were killed supporting runners on race day. No matter how you choose to remember, thank you for your thoughts and prayers for the victims.

Last Post Before Boston

Well, here we are. Marathon weekend. In just a few short days I will be running a race that, even less than a year ago, I didn’t think I’d ever get to run. Who am I and what have I done with the couch potato?

I had wanted to do more with this post and I even have a long draft already started, but I’ve run out of time to do anything with it, so this is going to be a much less detailed version without my hydration philosophy and pee schedule and such. Sorry that you’ve missed out on that valueble information!

I do want to say first and foremost THANK YOU for your constant support and encouragement. This race would be so much less fun without friends. I feel like I have been so slammed for time over the last few months, and I haven’t been able to spend nearly the amount of time on the internets as I’ve wanted, but I do sincerely appreciate it, and I apologize for being a terrible blog friend recently.

I have to admit that this race is making me nervous. I’m so underprepared, and over the last couple of days, I’ve started remembering how long 26.2 miles feels at race pace. Plus, with the “quirky” course, late start time, and this stupid calf, I’m just very unsure of how things will turn out. But I guess we’ll find out soon enough. And there isn’t any point to worrying about it now (these are lies I’m telling myself. I am so freaked out all the sudden. Like, all the freaking out I didn’t do for the last month is hitting me right now).

Plus, I’ve started carb loading and I feel super bloated which is annoying.

I do plan on posting updates (not of the bloat or the anxiety necessarily, though maybe some of that) throughout the weekend on Facebook and Instagram. I kind of got overwhelmed by twitter (who are half these people I follow?) and I haven’t logged on in 3 weeks, so I don’t know if I’ll be updating that particular social medium.

If you are looking for a way to make your Monday go faster, I am available as a stalkee. If you go here, I am bib number 15205. It is my understanding that if you don’t want text alerts, a live tracker will be running on the baa.org website. My start time is shortly after 10:20 EST.

Well, that’s it. I’m excited to meet up with some of you over the next couple of days, and I’m excited to run one of the coolest races around. Provided I don’t have a heart attack first. Where’s the beer?

Good luck to everyone else racing in either the 5-k or the marathon and have a lovely weekend!

Calf Desperation Update and Marathon Motivation

First: an update on my calf issue.

A few weeks ago Beth, a fellow Albuquerque runner/blogger who is also running Boston next week, offered up her sports doctor as a potential healer of my pain.  She was having similar calf issues and he got her up and running again, so I called him up and made an appointment.

His area of specialty is ortho-therapy.

As far as I can tell, his method is pretty similar to ART, and I would basically describe it as a tear-inducing massage with some chiropractic stuff thrown in.  This guy is a former college football player and a general athlete, and he’s just a little bit older than me (people in my age group are already doctors???), and he comes with a wealth of knowledge about all sorts of sports injury stuff since he’s had plenty of injuries himself.  Last Thursday during our first appointment, I was right in the middle of a huge work project so my brain was hurting, and he threw all sorts of big words and body part names at me, and I really don’t remember any of it.

He did an evaluation and diagnosed my problem as……? I don’t remember (my brain was busy piecing together e-recycling statistics), but it is a combination of two things, one of which is the pesky IT band issue that has been plaguing me off and on for well over a year.  Then the following conversation took place:

Dr.: Well, if you’ve been through childbirth, this should be a walk in the park for you.

Me: I haven’t been through childbirth…(even though I guess technically I have been on the baby end).

Dr.: Oh. Hmm. Well. Regardless, women tend to handle this much better than men.


I really don’t do anything without extensive research, and even though Beth had made mentions about her appointments on her blog, and even though I looked at this dude’s website and signed a bunch of scary sounding waivers, I didn’t really internalize what it was I was doing here.  But then the “massage” started.

It hurt. Badly.  My leg was bruised and sore for a few days.

Luckily I’ve started the “positive thinking” and “push through the pain” portion of marathon training.

I also got taped up with Rock Tape (same thing as K-T Tape, but with industrial strength stickiness) and sent with a bunch of homework assignments, basically things I’ve already been doing.  But instead of rolling out twice a day, I’m supposed to roll out 4-5 times a day and do hip strengthening exercises which I do sometimes but not all the time.

I went for my second session yesterday, and while there is a noticeable difference, I am still worried that I’m going to have big issues again during/after the race because I’m not even in the ballpark of 100% healed.  BUT, I think that I will be less miserable because of these sessions.

Regardless, I would recommend testing out “ortho-therapy” if foam rolling, stretching, rest, and massage just aren’t working and if you are up for some “mind over body” practice because you’ll get it.


Marathon Motivation

I really like the idea of dedicating each mile to a different person who has either helped you or could use the thoughts and prayers. But I can’t do it.  I think there are some truly good-hearted people out there who have really good intentions, but I know that if I were to choose people, it would not be for them, it would be 100% for me.  I would only be using them to get myself through the race, and I know that some bad karma would probably result.

Plus, what happens if I have a really terrible mile?  I know I would forever associate that person with whatever awful thing happened (and so many bad and gross things can happen), and I might even hold them a bit responsible for creating havoc upon their designated time frame (assuming I could even remember which people went with which mile…26 is a lot of people to memorize).  I kind of feel like this practice would encourage me to be a worse person than I already am and that’s not good for anybody.

So, I’m not going to do that.

Something I HAVE been thinking about a lot this training cycle is the privilege of being active.  For one, it seems like so many of my blogger friends got injured over the last few months.  Not silly stupid calf issue injured, but actually bone breaking injured. I know that people who are sidelined when they’d rather be running would gladly trade places with me and my relatively functioning legs.

Also, incidentally, today is the 71st anniversary of the Surrender of Bataan.  Aside from the fact that my little marathon is nothing in comparison to say, 80+ miles worth of marching through the hot jungle as a prisoner of war, it also brought back memories of my most recent race.  Running the Bataan Memorial Death March and seeing so many of the wounded warriors out there kicking butt on a dirt 26.2 course also made me realize that to have a healthy strong body is such an amazing gift that I take for granted every day.  I did absolutely nothing to deserve two legs that can run, and at any time, I can lose the ability.  Running marathons isn’t easy for anybody, but it is so much easier for me, someone who hasn’t had to overcome any sort of adversity to get there.


And when I’m in pain and my legs don’t want to go and the thought of laying down in the middle of the road sounds borderline euphoric, I try to remember that people suffer for so many reasons everyday, and for many of them, that pain will never go away.  Generally, my pain will end at the end of the marathon.  Just a few hours.  My few hours of pain (completely self inflicted) are so minuscule compared to the pain of others, and I try and keep that in perspective.

There are so many people who are strong and determined and who have had to deal with so much more than 3.5 (or however many more) hours of running.  And when I start losing faith in myself, I remember that so many people would love to have this chance, and I try to run stronger because I have been blessed with the opportunity.

What have you thought about to get yourself through the pain of running? 

Marathon Reflection Monday: 1 WEEK!

(First, I MISSED NATIONAL BEER DAY! I mean, not really since we enjoyed some locally brewed La Cumbre Malapais stout yesterday, but I didn’t celebrate with purpose).  

Holy cow! We are SEVEN days until GO time.  Not quite close enough to determine race day weather with any certainty (looking like high 50’s with a chance of rain), but not quite enough time to “cram study” my way to a passing grade (at this point of every year, I start having nightmares about passing finals even though my college career is long over…for now…).


While I haven’t been doing a lot of “blog” marathon reflecting this time around, I have been thinking a lot about what mistakes I’ve made, what I would do differently, and at what point everything changed from “on track for a super PR” to “not so much.”  Basically, I’m giving myself this one last whine fest, and then starting tomorrow, we are transforming to the intense mental workout that will hopefully carry me from Hopkinton to Newton and on into Boylston Street. Preferably on my own two feet as opposed to in an ambulance.

I made no secret over the fact that I didn’t love marathon training during Chicago.  Crossing the finish line to my first marathon was amazing, but I was re-reading my race recap, and I state very clearly that I didn’t want to make marathons a habit.

But I figured since I got the chance to run the marathon of all marathons, that I should probably soak up the experience and push for a very respectable PR time.  And I started training for marathon #2 in January.

I  had pretty high hopes going into this race.  For one, at the beginning of last training in June, I was at a 1:47 half.  At the beginning of this training, I was at a 1:41 half, meaning I was starting stronger and faster.  My first official run was 7 miles at marathon pace (about 8:10).  My first official run of last training cycle was a 7 mile long run that felt absolutely terrible.  And, there would be none of those dreaded 96 degree temperatures.

But my mindset going in was a bit different.  For one, I didn’t have the goal to re-qualify because I already have a 2014 qualifier (not that it guarantees anything), so the drive to accomplish a specific time goal was significantly less.

And as much as I complained about training in the heat of summer, as it turns out, I’m a much bigger wimp when it comes to cold weather.  During the winter I had to either run at night (dark and scary), or run in 10 degree temperatures in the morning, and a lot of times I just hung out on the treadmill.  And when winter gave way to spring, my allergies took over (they still are) making breathing feel much harder than it should.  And, when the time changed and there was daylight and warmth…well, let’s just say patio happy hour felt far more appealing than running. But then I would feel bad and try and run after happy hour. And running hard after happy hour doesn’t feel as good.

But all of that was easy overcomable.

Unfortunately, I made 3 sabotaging mistakes this training cycle that hindered my success:

1) Not letting myself completely heal after Chicago.  During my last 20 miler in September, my calf suddenly started bothering me to the point that I barely ran in the 2 weeks leading up to Chicago.  During the race, I was fine, but within hours after finishing, that little calf issue turned into a big problem.  I couldn’t run for 3 weeks post marathon.

The calf issue was kind of annoying through RnR Arizona half training  but nothing too bad, and I jumped into marathon training, even though it wasn’t completely pain free.  Three weeks ago, it got to the point where running was impossible.  And it hasn’t gotten better despite desperate efforts to fix it (I have session #2 with the sports chiro dude, so I’m hoping for good things).  I run one day and have to take the next couple of days off, which hasn’t lined up with the training plan very well.  I have lost speed and I have lost endurance.  I am not in as good of shape as I was before Chicago.

2) 12 Week Training Cycle.  For Chicago, I did 16 weeks, and it worked fine.  I chose the 12 week cycle because Hal Higdon’s “Boston Bound” plan said it was ok, and because I wanted to finish the RnR Arizona half before I started training, BUT I also thought that I would have a stronger base built at that point.  In the end, I ramped up faster than I was ready, probably not helping the calf issue.

3) Getting caught up in the mileage envy.  Right at the beginning of training, I started secretly reading Boston training blogs and they all had one thing in common: significantly more mileage than I was doing.  I panicked and started doing more weekly mileage than my plan (which worked PERFECTLY for Chicago) called for (see also, ramping up too fast above).  This bombed fast.  I don’t think I ever got a complete week in.  I was either hurting or burned out.

I burned myself out on running and managed to get hurt as wel, which are really inconvenient ways to enter into a marathon.

I don’t want to get completely down because who knows what will happen on April 15th.  I believe in the power of confidence and positive thinking, and I still somewhat believe I can will myself to a decent race time.  And truly, even though I’m not in PR shape, I should still finish in about 3:45, which isn’t a terrible time by any stretch of the imagination.

I’m comforted by the number of people who emphasize that Boston is a “victory lap” and shouldn’t be used to PR. Stressing out over a time goal or an unsuccessful training schedule is counterproductive to the experience.  Also, Meb dropped out last week due to a lingering calf injury which is a reminder that even elites have bad training cycles.

And on the upside of all of this, I have been much less stressed this time around.  I haven’t been having marathon nightmares, and taper has been much more relaxing.

So, now that my marathon sadness session is over, we can transform to the mental workout and CHEERLEADING! Time to prepare for the pain and resolve to push through it!

Hope everyone has a wonderful week!

Totally Irrelevant, But I Can’t Contain the Excitement

So, even though recent habits would suggest otherwise, I do plan on posting several times leading up to my first trip to the “Northeast of Manhattan” section of the country and what will likely be the biggest marathon of my life AND I even plan on throwing in a guest post (I’m working on it, I promise Danielle!).

But today, I just needed to share my ENORMOUS excitement over the fact that I AM SEEING MUMFORD AND SONS in concert!

Not only do I happen to love me some banjo playing British boys who sing deep lyrics (and really…who doesn’t?), but I also happen to think that when we look back 20 years from now, Mumford and Sons will be one of the bands that defines the music of this decade.  They announced their North American tour dates a couple of weeks ago, and the nearest stop happened to be about 2 hours away in a small town (village?) called Taos where my mom grew up (and where most of that side of the family lives), which is a heck of a lot closer than they were last year.  Most of the tour stops were in random, small towns this time around, which is kinda cool I guess.

But the promoters did this crazy lottery system to get tickets in order to make sure that FANS as opposed to scalpers got the majority.  We did not get selected for the lottery and we were SAD. So sad that we had to console ourselves with beer and tacos during happy hour yesterday even though this week we are really trying to eat extremely healthy and do “juicing” of the non illegal sort.

But this crazy system created a remarkable community of fans.  Each lottery winner got a code good for 4 tickets.  Amazingly, most people only bought the tickets they needed personally (usually 2), and then worked together with other fans via the Mumford and Sons facebook page to get lottery losers the tickets they needed.  Thanks to a very awesome stranger, I got to purchase tickets and we are going to the show!  Mumford and Sons fans might compete with runners for the most supportive and generous community out there.  I’m trying to think of ways to pay the kindness forward to keep the good karma going!


So, just thought I’d share that and wish you all a wonderful Wednesday and I promise to do annoyingly frequent marathon updates in the near future!

What concert are you wanting to see?