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Myself, Darren and Patrick
Before the Rally
The Woman, The Myth, The Legend
Coach Elfi.
BIG UPDATE COMING FRIDAY



UPDATE:  DAYS 187-192
December 7-12, 2003


DAYS 187-192
December 7 - 12, 2003

I can't believe the end is near.

Over the past week, all my co-workers and friends have asked me, "so are you going to be a marathon runner now?"  I can't answer that just yet.

I've been told that marathons become an addiction.  But the training is really, really hard.  I'm not sure that I want to continue training for marathons after Sunday.  

The one thing I am looking very forward to is getting back into yoga.  "Crossing Jordan" started shooting again.  Kathryn Hahn, our "Lily," and my former trapeze partner (before she decided to go off the bar without her foot) looks FANTASTIC (not that she didn't before, mind you) - but she's got a glow.  She came running up to me in the morgue (sentences you never thought you would type "she came running up to me in the morgue...) and said, "I have a new thing to do!  And you're totally into these extreme things!  It's Bikram yoga!  It's "hot" yoga!  I'm doing it everyday!--"  I cut her off and told her, "Kathryn, I've done that.  I was doing it before the marathon training.  I tried to get YOU into it."

So starting Tuesday, I can get back into my yoga again.

I feel like starting Sunday I get my life back.  I've been so strict with eating and running, and cross training.  I haven't TOUCHED the chocolate and desert island in the office.  If I have one more Balance bar (which mind you, they are mighty tasty)...  No more getting up at 6 AM to a blaring radio "wake me up inside!  wake me up inside!"  No more trying to find a parking space in Griffith Park.  No more wondering, what did my roommate eat the morning of my run.

No more anticipation of "what is it going to be like to run TEN miles today?"  (which a few weeks later would be "thank God it's only ten miles today.")  No more cheering for ourselves at the accomplishments we've achieved.  No more discussions with Darren over what new shows are on Broadway.  Or what audition David had during the week.  Or what insane music act came through someone's office at Fox.  Or how someone had so much homework.  Or how Monica Leigh hasn't slept from her night of bartending the night before.  No more Monica Leigh's bouncing pony tail, which seemed to have a life of its own.  No more silly rhymes in the park, which involved apples, oranges and pumpkin pies.  No more pretzels.  No more Carlos.  No more Mount Elfie.

In a strange way, Hawaii seems like a sick sort of "reward."  Yes, I have accomplished a lot.  I don't think ANYONE who knows me thought I would ever run 26 miles.  I came up with every excuse in the book in twelve years of school to get out of running.  I remember when running around the track in high school once left me sweaty, crying and hurt for days.  Today, that wouldn't even be my WARM UP.

And it's interesting how several of my friends who did cross country in high school have now heard that I'm doing a marathon and say, "I did cross country for four years and I would NEVER do a marathon.  It was hard enough doing three miles a day."  And those were the people "I" thought were freaks.

A sick sort of reward.  I've had people ask, "well, how much does this trip cost out of the money that you raised?"  I honestly don't know.  I do know that a lot of the trip was done with co-sponsorship and donations.  Obviously there were discount airline tickets - I'm not flying there on the back of a swan.  Obviously the hotel is giving a discount.  But when it is all said and done, my efforts will have collected around - or close to I believe $4,500.  (About five hundred shy of my personal goal, about $1,500 more that the minimum we were asked to raise.)  

(And no, I will not be running with red hair, unless the crew of "Alias" does a big collection tomorrow!)

And even still, $4,500 is not a lot when you think about the cost of medication for patients living with HIV.  I feel like for six months of training, running, cursing, bleeding, and ab work - that I wish I had more money.

I wish I had done more.  I wish I had told more people.  I wish I had begged more people.

Hind sight is always 20/20.

I feel like I got the big end of the stick.  I got way more out of this than AIDS Project Los Angeles will EVER get out of me.  I mean, for starters, I'm running a MARATHON!  That in and of itself is nothing short of a miracle.  I trained, I'm in the best shape I've ever been (and probably ever will be) in my life.  I met great friends.  Every week I heard inspiring stories of people who are living with HIV and stories about friends who died.  

But it comes down to the most simplest, purest form of generosity.  Strip everything away - and beginning at 7:00 AM every Saturday in Griffith Park, you saw a group of people who were there to help and support each other.  

Coaches and a wonderful staff who made sure we were safe.  That we were feeling okay.  That we didn't push it.  That we didn't hurt ourselves.  That we didn't get killed by on-coming traffic.  

There were the people who were friends of runners, family of runners, past marathon runners, people living with AIDS, people who had lost friends and family to AIDS, or people who wanted to be involved but could not run that gave up their mornings to stand on the side of the road and POUR WATER.  HOW BORING IS THAT?  To stand on the side of the road and wait for a group of ten people to come running up and pour water for them.  

What sort of person would give up their morning to pour water and hold a bowl of pretzels?  And do it week after week after week after week.

And then there is us.

At 7:00 AM in Griffith Park, we ALL look the same.  You would never know that the person running in front of you is a bartender who hasn't slept.  The person next to her is a producer.  The person behind him is a student.  The person behind him is a stay at home mom.  The boy next to him has a father who died of AIDS.  The person behind him is a writer.  The girl next to him works in a restaurant.  The woman behind her lost her job four months ago.  The man next to her owns a Fortune 500 company.  It's MINDBLOWING to think about how DIFFERENT each and every one of us are.

And yet, something in each of us - for some REASON - each of us decided, I'm going to run the AIDS marathon.

One of the things I miss the most after Sandra left (no offense to Ginger, and it may only be because people stopped writing them) was the weekly dedications for each of our runs.

I remember the very first person I met who had AIDS.  His name was Jamie and had taken over the "haunted castle" at Rhodes Hall in Atlanta.  I met him when I was a freshman in college in 1987.  He created and designed the entire set that year, taking over for Jim Ray-James (my mentor).  I remember Jamie not feeling well a lot.  No one really talked about it.  But he was always very nice to me and would come around to tell me what a great job I was doing as a victim in "Frankenstein's Lab."

The following year (the dreaded October 13 - something bad always happened on October 13 at the Rhodes Haunted Castle), we were taking our hourly break for five minutes in the kitchen.  The thirty or so cast members were spilling onto the steps in the cold Atlanta air, drinking coffee and eating cookies.  Someone came up to me and said, "you were here last year, weren't you?"  I nodded.  "Jamie died today."

It just stunned me.  Yes, "I" was here last year.  And at that very moment a year ago JAMIE had been RIGHT HERE sitting on the steps, his long hair pulled into a pony tail sitting there drinking coffee with me and eating cookies.

"He had AIDS."

They came through with the bell.  Apparently I was not the only one was stunned.  Jamie's friends  had just found out as well.  There was much crying.  We went back inside, I was just numb.  Not crying.  I didn't know Jamie that well, but as a young and impressionable fifteen year old, it did affect me that someone I knew - a working director had died.

I remember going back inside.  This year I was a prom date victim.  There was a full length mirror on the wall.  I remember walking in and seeing my sunken eye make-up, the blood all over the front of my costume.  I remember taking the plastic knife from the table and putting it in the mechanism on my coat.  Slowly the creepy music came back in the house.  Everyone took their places and we heard the screams of the people coming through in the first room.

My job was to lie under a female dummy, looking like I'm a dummy too - then jump and scream, "help me!"  Scaring everyone, since I was on the ground near their feet.

I couldn't do it.  I just laid there.  I didn't want to be there.  I didn't want to be a dead body.

At the next break, I went upstairs and took off my costume and a "swing" actor took over.  I remember walking down the stairs, and seeing what had been Jamie's Frankenstein monster the year before, now was a mutilated monster.  I couldn't get out of the house fast enough.

And that stayed with me for weeks.  He was the first person I knew.

Jim Wiggins, my AD on "The Oldest Living Confederate Widow Tells All" would be the second.  A friend in college would be the third.

I will never forget - never ever forget for as long as live, a man I still love and respect very much telling a joke, "how do you give a person with AIDS CPR?"  And then at Christmas, my uncle telling the same joke.  He stomped his foot on the ground (as if it were the persons chest) and then leaning over and from a distance, blowing, as if that were mouth to mouth.  That was way back in 1983.  (I remember because it was the same night Robin gave birth the alien baby on "V" the mini series.)  But I will never forget ever at the age of 11 or 12 thinking, "that is the most horrifying thing I've ever seen you do."

Yes, it was ignorance at the time.  No one knew what AIDS or HIV was.

And then recently, friends talking about "is AIDS a government conspiracy?"  And why is medication so expensive and how drug companies are making money off there NOT being a cure.

And I feel bad for NOT wanting to be a part of any of that conversation.

I want to believe that scientists are working to find a cure.  I want to believe that we are doing everything we CAN do to find a cure.

And I want to believe that there are things we can do to help those that are suffering.  I want to believe that there are people that will get up at 6 AM and pour water.  That there are people that will go and walk for Breast Cancer.  That when people come to our door for the march of dimes, that we give.  That when you see the Salvation Army guy standing there in the freezing cold, that you do give him a dollar and that it will go to help them.

There is so much "awful" in the world.  I want to believe that just by doing a little, we do a lot.

Well, it is now 1:46 Friday morning and by the time I post this it will be 3:00 AM and I still won't have any clean clothes or have packed a single thing.

So let me just say this to whoever is reading this.

Thank you.

Thank you for taking the time to follow me and support me, whether it be donations, or telling me good luck (or in Summer's case, telling me to break a leg, which I'm not sure was either a threat or a wish).  

Tomorrow I will be on my way to Hawaii.  (okay, in a few hours).  The odd thing for me, truly and honestly at this point is, do I even deserve this?  I feel like the people who poured water every week should be going to Hawaii.  Or the people who sponsored me.  Or my friends who have been living with HIV and AIDS.

All I'm doing is running.

So, here we go.

I'll update the site for the last time when I return on Tuesday.

But be sure you click on the link above on Sunday to see the conclusion of my journey.  200 Days and 26.2 miles later.



Days 182-186
December 2-6, 2003

Okay, seriously - I get that yellow is a bright color and easy to spot - but could these "singlets" be any less attractive?  Mine is a medium and I could fit two more of me in it.  And not to mention white against my alabaster white skin makes me look like a corpse.  Not to mention, mine seems to be the only one with a... how do I put this... rather interesting discoloration on it.  I believe the shade is called Lewinsky.  I kept having to explain all morning, "it's a discoloration stain!"  SO that's where my number will be pinned during the marathon.

The above picture is from today, our LAST training run.  JUST 8 miles.

We were laughing today about how it was JUST 8 miles.  Back 6 months ago I don't think I would have referred to anything as just 8 miles.  But it was our last and there was no hill.  Just a flat 8.  I almost missed the hill.  I almost missed the fact that we didn't run out of the park.  

But not that much.

The Festival of Lights are up in Griffith Park - I've gone past it for 3 years now and never seen them.  And now that I've seen what they are, I wonder why traffic is backed up for 4 hours.

We all arrived at 7A - our coaches and support staff all said their final tips and pointers and wished us well in Hawaii.  David, our site mascot gave us our final rhyme: "E-I-G-H-T... (when we ran up and I realized he was spelling, my first thought was oh God I have to THINK?) that's..." crap I forgot the rest of it - but it had something to do with "three to you and me" and ending with "great".  That's what I'm going to miss the most about our runs in the park.  David and his rhymes.

We finished - off to McDonald's and my final Starbucks run.

No more 6 AM wake ups on Saturday!  Tears of joy are streaming down my face as I typed that.  I don't even get out bed before 6 on days when I WORK unless I have to be on set.

I'll be spending most of the weekend in the office trying to prep my week and handling the on-call.


So where did the week go?

All week it has been about conditioning, hydrating, eating right, and preparing.

When I had a piece of cherry pie (Lisa's left over cherry pie from Thanksgiving) I felt really guilty, only because I've been so disciplined with my eating.  Eating  only good and healthy.

And working.  I've been working out at night all week, but I'm going to have to switch that to the morning for the last week in order to be sure I get a full 8 hours sleep a night every night this week.

"Crossing Jordan" returns to shooting on Monday.  I can't wait to see everyone again.  I've really missed them.



DAYS 177
November 27 - December 1, 2003
  
Thanks to the incredibly vanishing entry for Thanksgiving.  It was typed.  It was entered.  It disappeared.
  
So here is a recap:
  
Wednesday evening, I decided to do all my Thanksgiving shopping.  Expected were about 12 of my friends from Los Angeles and transplants from Atlanta.  I went to the gym, ran three miles.  Did 30 laps in the pool.  Arrive at the grocery store.
  
And I thought it was a little odd that the parking lot was empty.
  
For some asine reason, grocery stores decide to close at midnight on the day when most of the world is cooking.  You would think owners would say, "you know, there are a lot of people who wait to the last minute to do everything.  Maybe we should stay open."
  
But no.
  
So as the security guard, trying to do his best to make me feel stupid, ("why would you wait until the night before to buy everything you need for Thanksgiving?"  Because I can.) my mind starts racing with how I'm going to deal with the people coming to my house.  I decide, IF there is not a store open tomorrow, I'll just buy a meal from a restaurant and pass it off as having cooked it.
  
So at 9 AM, I wake up, and begin my mission.  Vons is closed.  (I would have crossed that picket line in a New York minute).  Albertson's - closed.  We already knew Ralphs.  Trade Joes.  So I say, surely Whole Foods is open.  The only store I shop at anyways.  The only reason I tried Ralphs the night before was because they are open 24 hours.
  
As I approach Whole Foods, I see a line of cars.  You haven't seen that much traffic in a line since the pilgrimages to Macon, Georgia when people thought they saw the face of Mary on the side of a barn.
  
Still, I think - they're open.  Thank God.  There will probably be nothing left, and it's going to take me five hours, but I will have some sort of food.
  
It took me 45 minutes to find a parking space.  I walked it, took a deep breath, grabbed a cart and started collecting the goods.  The workers were all in a good mood.  Very helpful, and by some miracle I was in and out with everything in 20 minutes.
  
And for that reason, I will only shop at Whole Foods from now on.
  
So I got home, finished cleaning, called my parents.  Told them what I was making.  "Yeast rolls from scratch?  So you already started on them" says my mother.  Um, no.  The receipe said two hours total.
  
The turkey was compliments of the lovely Melanie Lasher who pulled strings to get up a last minute honey baked turkey from Honey Baked Hams.  I'm not sticking my hand in any opening of a dead bird and pulling out a bag.  So they turkey was done.
  
Which left green beans almondine, sweet potato puree, mashed potatoes in herb and basil, dressing, desserts, broccoli casserole, and the form of yeast rolls that apparently do NOT rise in two hours.
  
No one was rushed to Cedars Sinai, so I think it was a success.
  
The next morning I got up and did a quick hike through Runyon Canyon then went to Palm Springs to see my friend Brent's play.
  
Saturday was all about abs and running.  I didn't do the 8 mile recovery run in Griffith Park because of Palm Springs.
  
Sunday was a nice hike through Temescal Canyon - which is goregous.  From the top you can see Catalina in one direction and downtown Los Angeles in the other.
  
Which leaves me with Monday - a three mile run and arm work.
  
I can't believe in less than two weeks all of this work will be over.  Right now, I'm pushing myself and conditioning myself.
  
  

Day 176
November 26, 2003

So I may end up sporting a nice red hair-do on my marathon.  The challenge I issued my "Alias" family was that if they donated $2,000 - I would dye my hair red for the marathon, in tribute of our hero.

I won't issue the same challenge to "Crossing Jordan" for fear that I will have to carry a dead body strapped to my back for 26.2 miles.

I guess I could issue the same challenges to my other shows.  No idea what I would do with "Eve" - get a blond weave I guess and change it out every five miles.  (Anyone else watch the show and notice her hair is NEVER the same from week to week?)

"Judging Amy"... no clue.  Wear a judges robe?  No, that would get way too sticky.

The Bane of My Existence.  I shudder to think.

So I ran again today.  2 miles.  The gym was deserted.  It was a nice change.

I'm off to start preparing Thanksgiving.  We're eating around 7p.m. - so if you are missing loved ones, check the emergency room at Cedars Sinai for food poisoning.


Days 172 - 175
November 22 - 25, 2003

So I had the strangest dream that I was in a horrible car accident which totaled my car and scrambled my memory - leaving me with temporary memory loss.  Imagine waking up and finding out that you've been casting American Dreams for two years and you have no idea what the show is about.  And in this dream, I was forced to go to a chiropractor for two weeks and not able to run.

Hmmm.

So I've taken to swimming, allowing my legs to rest.  This coming Saturday is supposed to be 8 miles of a recovery run.  Basically from this weekend until the marathon itself, it's going to be all about conditioning my body to prepare for the 26.2.

I wish I had something brilliant to report.  I'm sure I do and just don't remember it.

On my show side:  We just starting shooting the most brilliant episode of "Alias" since the Superbowl episode which took down the SD-6 (and made me a legend at LAX) and revealed Evil Francie.  Fans of the show will be peeing in their pants.  It's simply brilliant.

My beloved "Crossing Jordan" is finally returning.  We begin shooting on December 8th.  We began prepping the show about a month ago and then went down while issues were dealt with, and again, I didn't remember anything about that prep, so we're starting all over again.  

"Judging Amy" is still going well.  Recently we celebrated the 100th episode.

The Bane of My Existence is still kicking for about 48 more days.  Then God willing,it will be taken off life support.  And let it die.

I've started a new movie, the same peeps who did the Tori Spelling "A Carol Christmas" for Hallmark are doing a movie called, "Dear Mr. God."  Finally a movie my entire family can enjoy.  Don't think they caught "Wonderland."  "Dear Mr. God" is a true story involving a woman starting her life over on a horse ranch.  I would like to write the sequel to this movie called, "Hello, God, Are You There?  Can You Hear Me Now?  Good.  You've Got Some Explaining to Do."

"Eve" is UPN's highest rated show.  

I saw the movie "Gothika" over the weekend.  If you've not seen it, or plan to, skip this next paragraph.  Memo to Halle Berry - You won an Oscar.  We forgave you for X-Men.  We understood your frustration for the size of your role in X-Men 2, but you that was punishment for how bad you were in the first one.  I'm still pissed you're playing Catwoman.  Shoot your agent if you do "Jinx" as a spin-off to the James Bond Movies.  Regarding "Gothika:"  If someone comes to you in the future and says, hey, wanna do a movie with Penelope Cruz, RUN SCREAMING.  I want my money back.

Gothika is a movie in which (as we've all seen in the trailer 10,000 times) Halle plays Dr. Miranda Grey - a "brilliant psychologist."  So brilliant (I'm getting ready to spoil the movie - turn back now!!!!): that Halle doesn't realize any of her husband's extra curricular activties.  Now I don't know about you, but if someone kills me and I get the opportunity to come back and haunt someone, chance are, I'm not going possess the killer's wife into killing said murderer so she can wind up in a mental hospital and then have plan all sorts of escapes in order to reveal what happened to me.  I might write a note.  I might whisper, "I'm gonna get you."  I might go so far as flicker the lights in the house.  I think if you really want to get even with someone, you take your time.  But this little  ghost girl possesses Halle, cuts her arm up to say "NOT ALONE" and wrecks her hair.  Or maybe that was Penelope Cruz.  But the point is:  Ghost Girl is one stupid chick.  If I were Halle, I'd be REALLY pissed off at Ghost Girl.  Not once does Halle ever say, "yo!  I could have used a much simpler sign!  You didn't have to go all Poltergiest!  I'm on your side!"  Not even Robert Downey Jr believes Halle, and God knows Robert's seen LOTS of spirits in his day.  You know it's bad when the only person who believes you is Penelope Cruz.  And Halle resorts to that quivering Halle face.  I kept expecting Billy Bob Thorton to come in at one point and say, "got some new red drapes, now chill out."  (And if you didn't see Monster's Ball you a) are no longer my friend and b) didn't just get that.)



Days 160 - 171
November 12 - 22, 2003

Wow - you run 26 miles and just give up on your little journal!

On my birthday, my 31st - which was really disappointing, considering I claimed last year was my 29th Again - which means this year I completely missed my 30th all together - I went to an entertaining panel discussion on reality television.  Yes, I know to most people that sounds like a stupid way to spend your birthday, but I enjoyed it.  I then did a rewrite on my script and got it off to a friend who dropped it to agent, who the next morning called wanting to know why my script was on his desk.  Needless to say, some idiot with the last name Chevalier will NOT be representing me.

Friday the 18th was spend preparing for the 26 mile run.  Which meant eating whatever I wanted.

Which brings us to:  26 miles.

Up and out of bed at 5:30 AM, I had breakfast, showered, got ready and drove to Griffith Park where hundreds of people were gathered.  Helpers, runners, supporters from ALL the training sites in Los Angeles.  The Long Beach and Santa Monica groups were on OUR turf.

We are told that if we did not run the 23 mile run (which I think 90% of us did not do, due to the fires and the air quality) we were to join those who did at mile three.  My group immediately decided, screw that - we are NOT waiting around for people to do 3 miles before we started, so we agreed to do 26 and then if need be, die off at mile 26.

Each of the training site coaches introduced themselves and gave a little speech.  We were introduced to people who had lost loved ones to AIDS.  It was a very motivational morning, you knew getting ready at that starting line, there is no way you are NOT going to finish this thing.

Volunteers were positioned all over the route to supply water and pretzels.  David, who I think I mentioned before, our own personal location mascot was there.  He always has little rhymes whenever we see him, but I've decided David has run out of material, as all of his rhymes now being, "apples, oranges, pumpkin pie..." followed by "give that hill one more try" or "keep on running, you won't die"... by the end of the run it was "you're almost done."

The weather was considered good running weather.  If you like to be cold.  I ran the full 26 miles wearing my Alias sweatshirt.

So we started.  We ran all around Griffith Park, down Riverside, around the neighborhood, back into Griffith Park, back down Riverside, I swear if I had to run past Disney Studios one more time I was going to scream.

I hit "my wall" at mile 11.  ELEVEN.  Normally, I don't start counting the miles until 10.  So of course when you get to 11 and you think, "wow... just FIFTEEN more to go..." you realize, oh my God - I'm going to be here FOR-E-VER.  You think, I've got HOW MANY more hours to go?!

And that DAMN MOUNT ELFIE!  We did that damn hill up one side and down the other four times.  The only solace I took in that was knowing that the Long Beach and Santa Monica crews were miserable.  And they were.  Lots of their people dropped out from the hill.  Not my peeps.  We trudged right through.

We finished, we got a little medal.  And all I wanted to do was get home.

I came home, and what I had hoped would be the best shower of my life - wasn't - thanks to a certain someone who decided to use up all the hot water.  Don't know who that someone was... but he was seen fleeing the scene shortly after I started screaming that there was no hot water.

SO after my nice COLD shower - I went to grab a bite to eat and faster than you can say, "you are getting very sleepy..." I was in coma for five hours.

When I woke up, my legs just felt hot.  Oh, backing up to the finish line, so I did the entire 26 miles and the only achey feeling was that feeling you would get from running a lot.  I walked fine.  I wasn't crippled.  I was astonished.

After Sleeping Beauty woke up, he went to see a movie at the Arclight.  I can't remember which one, but I remember having to climb the stairs and that hurt.

The next day, I went to Burke Williams for a massage.  And THAT hurt.  I learned a lesson there.  Don't break what isn't fixed.  I couldn't walk right for two days.  The massage therapist worked on my lower legs and it hurt like hell.

I took off any sort of exercise Sunday and Monday.  Tuesday I went to the gym to run.  At which point my legs laughed and said, "uh, I don't think so."

More later.




Days 158-159
November 10-11, 2003
  
While hoping to avoid any sort of awareness of my birthday - which I was just doing fine, thankyouverymuch, I was ambushed by "The Vickie," Christina Guy, and Stephanie Conti with not JUST a present, but a BOX of presents, balloons, leis, singing, and horns.  
  
And it's not even my birthday yet.
  
So now everyone in the office knows.  I can't describe WHY I hate birthdays.  I certainly loved the first 25, but after that, not so much.
  
Last year I didn't even celebrate my 30th.  I called it my "29th Again."
  
So this will be the second time that I have acknowledged I'm 29.  I'm saving my 30th birthday for when I'm comfortable with it.  But thank you to my ambush.  The box was so great - and they gave me a huge gift certificate for Run With Us in Pasadena, which I plan to use to buy my running outfit for Hawaii
  
I think my favorite birthday was my 21st.  We were on location in Madison, GA shooting the mini series "The Oldest Living Confederate Widow Tells All" with Diane Lane and (shudder) Donald Sutherland.  The night before my birthday, I was stuck in the hotel having to cast fifty more people from midnight to six in the morning for a ball room scene.  I remember Jim Wiggins, the 2nd AD, coming up to me and saying, "sorry about that, but just think, tomorrow you can buy a drink."  And I turned around and said, "Jim, tomorrow I can buy a gun."
  
While the cast and crew drove to Atlanta that night and stayed in hotels there, I had to stay in Madison at my temporary home (the Ramada Inn, room 124) and drove in that morning.
  
MIRACULOUSLY - ALL of the extras were there, and they were there EARLY.  I walked in and every single one of them were there BEFORE the call time.  I remember being so happy.
  
And tired.  So as I went to leave, Diane Lane carted out a huge birthday cake, everyone sang, and Cynthia Stillwell, my boss lady, gave me the rest of the day off and a cold reading workshop with Sherrie... something.  She was a casting director who worked with Steven Spielberg.
  
On a sad sidenote, just typing Jim's name, reminds me that Jim Wiggins is one of the first people I ever knew to die of AIDS.  I remember reading about his death in a "celebrity" issue of Entertainment Weekly when I was in college my junior year, covering all the industry people who had died of AIDS in the past year.
  
But back to birthdays:
  
There was the year when we first moved to Los Angeles.  My 29th birthday (the first time).  I was doing the longest version of Wuthering Heights known to man, playing Edgar Linton.  The show was about three hours long, which gave me a good 45 minutes before I went on stage as a sixteen year old, two minutes to become early 20's and then after intermission I had one more scene as a 20 year old, then had 2 minutes to get to a death scene at 50ish.  Then I had an hour to get cleaned up, go to McDonald's, eat, come back to the theatre, take a nap, and get ready for curtain call.  It's also where I first met the fabulous Christina Guy.
  
Ok - so my 29th.  I come home to the house referred to as The House on Huston Street, aka The Atlanta Embassy - and cars are parked all up and down the street.  And music is blasting from the house that you could hear on Vineland.  I walk up, thinking my roommates have lost their collective minds and into a surprise party.
  
I think Amy, Summer, and Kipp and managed to attract 100 - 150  people, including my agent, the cast of Wuthering Heights (which explained why everyone was acting so strangely when I told them I was going to a movie after the show), and everyone we had met since landing in Los Angeles.  The tiki torches were lit in our rock garden.  It was such a great night.  I still have the coffee pot that Shelley gave me, "The Shelley 2000."
  
I can remember the birthdays my mother used to plan.  I remember the Muppet cake for my 8th birthday.  I can remember the trips to Showbiz Pizza.  I remember a lot of my birthdays growing up also happened to fall while we doing the fall show at the Doraville Arts Theatre, so my parents would get a cake and everyone would share.
  
This year, my mother sent me an enormous box full of food, coffee, socks and underwear (go figure), shirts, books, Christmas ornaments - it was great.
  
So Sunday was spent running back and forth to the office casting the Feature Film with Catering.  I did manage to get to the gym right before it closed and for the first time did the elliptical machines.  It's like skiing, only you don't go anywhere and gets boring really fast.  I also did arms.  Then went home, watched "Alias" and came back to the office for the fifth and final time of the day to change out more extras for the Feature Film with Catering.
  
In case I haven't mentioned yet, the Bane of My Existence only has 59 more days of shooting to go.  Much happiness will follow.
  
Monday night was running 2 miles and ab work.
.


Days 154 - 157
November 6-9, 2003

So I couldn't move my arms for two days.  Which means I was doing something right, and should have been doing it more often.  I couldn't bring myself to go back to the gym and do arms again, so I'm going to attempt them again tonight.

Saturday was 10 miles - the 10 mile "recovery" run.  Which was also the first time I had done something close to 10 miles in almost a month.  The weekend in Laramie, my lungs nearly imploded.  The weekend after we had fires.  Same thing for the week after that, so 10 miles was slightly scary.

I've been doing my "maintenance runs" so my legs didn't hurt.  HOWEVER - the bone on my big toe that runs on the top of my foot, I have discovered that is little bastard responsible for my soreness.  And that little bastard was killing me.  But at least I know where the culprit has been hiding, so I can talk to Elfie about what to do.

Our run was simple.  Up Mount Elfie, down Mount Elfie, around to the pony rides and back.  So we did the hill twice, but it wasn't that bad at all, because I've been incorporating the incline on my treadmill running.

HOWEVER - next week is the big 26 mile run.

A marathon is technically 26.2 miles.  Part of our training is to run a full 26 mile training run.

Seeing as how 20 is the most I've done so far, the jump to 26 is going to be an interesting one.  I think I heard something Saturday morning (there was no bull horn for us to hear Elfie, so we all smiled and nodded like we heard what was going on.  She made have said, "and all you little lemmings are going to run to the top of the hill and jump off" and again, we would have just smiled and nodded.) - but I think there was talk that those of us (read 85% of us) who didn't do 23 miles could do that.  Which is just fine with me.

I feel like I'm in really good shape right now.  I've been eating well and getting sleep - when not receiving voice mail messages from the Bane of My Existence that they are unhappy with something - or the Student Film with Catering ("dude, like we have no idea what we are doing...  So I think we may need some people tomorrow, are you working on the weekend?")

I can't wait to just get away and do the run.  It's almost a month away.

I can't remember if I wrote anything about Summer's Marathon, but she did the New York Marathon in 5 hours 15 minutes - which is an incredible time.  I was so jealous of her entire trip.  I can't wait to get to New York soon.

I'm off to a yoga class.

-C


Days 152-153
November 4 - 5, 2003

If only my little webpage didn't take so long to open to add to it, I'd do it hourly.  

So Tuesday night was spent running and doing arms.  This of course is after I spent the previous evening battling with Bally's in Pasadena.  Long story short - the expiration date on the credit card expired - the new one is input - they didn't charge for the previous two months - I say no prob, pay in cash - when I go in Monday - they claimed I had never paid.  "Do you have a receipt?"  Of course I don't have a receipt.  "Where did you pay?"  Studio City.  The little troll took my card.  I drive to Studio City and take care of everything - veeeerrrrryyyyy   cccccaaaalllllmmmmmlllllyyyy.

So Tuesday night I ran three miles and did arms.  I haven't done arms in a few months.  And now they hurt.

Wednesday evening, I went to the Studio City location and ran three miles and did thirty minutes of abs.  

As I write this, I can neither feel my arms, or my abs.  

But, the desk attendant at the Bally's in Studio City came running around the desk and gave me a big hug.  "Next Friday is my last night!"  I was, in fact, a little sad.  Granted, I don't know her name.  I like to imagine her name is Gwendolyn.   But she's always been very nice when she's taken my card and checked me in.  She always says goodbye when I leave.  She's been there since the beginning of my training.  

I have a new favorite show.  It's called "Rich Girls."  I can NOT get enough of this show.  I've seen the first episode six times.  "Rich Girls" follows the adventures of Ally Hilfiger (Tommy's daughter) and Jamie Gleicher (heir to a luggage empire.)  

When you think about intelligent, well crafted openings; "Star Wars:"  A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away."  "Romeo and Juliet:"  Two household, both alike in dignity in fair Verona, where we lay our scene. From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From fourth the fatal loins of these two foes, a pair of star-crossed lovers take their life.  "Under Milkwood:"  To begin at the beginning, it is spring.

Now we have "Rich Girls" - "We just prance around this damn city like it's, like, our shopping haven."

Other rubies of knowledge:  "Just because we're rich, doesn't mean we're not good people." (I like to imagine that was the tenth take before they got it right and that it went more like this:  "Just because we're rich, doesn't mean we're... stopping making me laugh you guys!... okay, dead puppies, old nuns, dead puppies.... breathe.... just because we're rich doesn't mean we're good people.... oh crap, wait, we're NOT good people... oh, doesn't mean we're not... got it... stop making me laugh!"

They spend THOUSANDS of dollars on clothes.  They complain incessantly (oh, the stress of having to order ANOTHER limo), Jamie chain smokes, while lamenting whether or not to lose her virginity on prom night to Craig, a sweet enough oaf, and I'm still trying to figure out what either one saw in each other.  (Her date, as luck would have it, drinks too much coffee and ends up puking in the limo and is kicked to the curb.  Note to MTV:  There is no such thing as TOO MUCH coffee.)  I'm oh so excited by the highlights from the next episode in which Jamie appears to stalk the good looking boy ("he's like, you know,  total Ryan Philippe in Cruel Intentions") -  She sees him kissing another girl, then she runs off and cries.  Can Not WAIT.

We learn important life lessons, such as:  "Money doesn't buy happiness."  (You just dropped $3,000 on a skirt.  Money can buy a lot of therapy, nicotine patches, and pilates classes.  Do something about it, you cow.)  And did you know Ally's daddy INVENTED cargo pants?  "yeah, my dad like invented them and now like everyone is copying him." And Jamie's drug is shopping.  "Shopping is like my drug.  Let's go do some damage."

Just remember.  Money can't buy happiness.  


October 23 - November 3, 2003
Days 139-151

Once again, I've neglected my poor little website.

Training in Griffith Park came to a screaming halt for two weeks.  I've continued to run on the treadmill at Bally's - however we were cautioned not to run outside thanks to the fires we've been having recently.

The air quality has been really bad - and if it's not the air outside, then its the three inches of dust and crap in the office that might kill me before December 14.  Builders have been putting up walls, drilling, blasting- you name it - it's been done.  My desk is covered in a white powder.  I've given up trying to clean it, because the next day it's covered again.  So you can't breathe inside, you can't breathe outside.

However, we did get rain on Halloween and the air cleared out.  Along with the rain came a cold front - (A cold front in Los Angeles means you wear long sleeves and not a tanktop.)

Summer just got back from running the New York Marathon, which she did in 5 hours 15 minutes.  Hearing her story and the excitement she had has really been a nice push for me to hit this last month and a half.  I've been running, but not doing as much as I should.  I've been eating, but not as strict as I started.  So now is the time to kick it in gear and push for the last 41 days.

But let's talk about drivers and Los Angeles.  It took me TWO HOURS to drive from the Bane of My Existence to the office on Friday afternoon.  TWO hours.  The office is only 10 miles away.  I could have walked faster.  Why is it that water falls from the sky and all the idiots in Los Angeles have to stop and look at it?

I'm also working on an independent film that I refer to as the Student Film with Catering.  Though I've been on student films that are more organized.  Don't ask me what the movie is about.  We're on Day eight of shooting and they still haven't sent me a script, a call sheet, or a crew list.  I just get random phone calls - when I don't have to call the assistant director - and find out they need extras for the next day.  Monkeys could run that set better, and I'm not referring to Well Trained Monkeys.

I did see two really good films over the weekend - The Human Stain with Anthony Hopkins and Nicole Kidman and Pieces of April with Katie Holmes and Sean Hayes.  Even though movies at the ArcLight will run you $10 -$14, it is SO worth it.  No kids running in and out.  No talking people.  No huge crowd.  The night I went to see The Human Stain, I was one of seven people in the theatre - Queen Latifah being one of the other six.  There are no commercials (and if I see another LA Times ad or commercial with that guy talking about movie piracy and how he met his wife in Georgia shooting The Big Chill, I'll scream),  just an usher who comes in, introduces the film, welcomes you to the theatre, does a quick rundown of film festivals, and reminds you that if your cell phone rings to step out to take the call.  Sort of like the curtain speech when you go to see a play.

I've also decided I'm going back to school.

I'm going to attempt to get my Art History degree.  I'm going to take a night class in the winter - probably the first and most basic.  But recently I've had this new interest in art and the history of art.  I can remember as a child my mother had this very large History of Art book.  It was the biggest book I had ever seen.  For years I would flip through it.  I've joined just about half the art museums in Los Angeles.  It's about the only place I can go and completely relax.  I'm SO pissed I didn't get a chance to go back and see the French Masterworks a LACMA before they left.

I promise... to keep better updates for the last part of my journey.

-C


Days 133-138
October 17-22, 2003

"I don't eat buffalo." - Jessica Simpson.

My new picture above is from my friend Stan, capturing exactly what I look like when I fight crime, high atop the rooftops of Los Angeles.

Not much new and exciting to report.

I skipped out on the 10 mile run on Saturday, which requires me to make up for it running every day up until Friday.  On Friday is the 23 mile run.  

23 miles.  That's 20 more miles than when I first started running.  And 23 more miles than I was running in May.  I can't believe it's that close.

I have my new shoes from Run With Us in Pasadena, and I've been breaking them in.  This will be the pair of shoes that will run 26.2 miles in Hawaii.

On a sad note:  It looks like my dearest "Crossing Jordan" is on life support.  We were expected to start shooting today, but we received calls on Friday tell us "we've been shut down... it could be two weeks, it could be two months, it could be forever."

I'm hoping that the show DOES return, and sooner than later, as everyone has started looking for new jobs.  But that cast and crew are my second family, and it's so sad to see everyone break-up where there was no final goodbye.

The actors have started looking for new shows.  The crew has started sending out resumes.  I just hope this isn't the end.  

On a happier note:  At 112a on Tuesday, I finished the first rough draft of "The Princess of Fenway Park."  Meaning, coherently, the script is done from start to   finish.  I'm sending out copies to friends and readers to see how it reads - and then hopefully a month from now it will get to my agent.  It really felt like giving birth - not that I would know - but now that the thing is out, I just have to keep it alive.


Days 121-132

October 6-16, 2003

The search party which I had been sent for me finally extracted me last night.  Sorry for the lack of updates, I've been busy.

To begin at the end and work backwards.

Tuesday night - I ran five miles, after not running for several days.  It was really exhausting, but probably more so because of the lack of sleep I've had over the past week.

Monday night - I past out due the exhaustion of my weekend, which takes us to:

Friday.  Thanks to Cheaptickets.com and their last minute specials, I was fortunate to book a flight to Denver, Colorado where I picked up my friend Chris and his mother, Debbie and we drove to Laramie, Wyoming.

Chris was premiering his art at the University of Wyoming and also speaking at the campus.  I went along to a) get the hell out of Los Angeles for a few days b) hear Chris speak and see his art showing c) experience Laramie on the fifth anniversary of Matthew Shepard's death.

After being upgraded to business class and getting a nice car upgrade, the three of us were off to Laramie.  The weather went from nice, warm and sunny, to cold, dark, and rainy in the matter of an hour.  We went from Denver to tumbleweed.

We arrived at The Best Western in Laramie, an experience in and of itself.  Two of the students met us at the hotel and less than an hour later, Chris was at a microphone talking.  How he managed any ounce of energy after his whirlwind week of appearances and travels, is beyond me.

After his speech, we talked with