• Taking home your own leftovers when eating out, and maybe even the leftovers of those you're eating with. Don't be shy in asking--most people don't care; I've taken home leftovers from work lunches. Bonus if you bring your own container to prevent plastic/paper waste :)

• Ordering less at a restaurant, especially if you know that the people you came with won't finish their food (which you can then snag for yourself).

• Eating parts of produce that normally get thrown out (i.e. broccoli stems--they're actually quite tender when cooked, cauliflower leaves--you can bake them, the deep green section of leeks--great for soups, etc.)

• Rinsing out your smoothie blender with water, and drinking the water + smoothie residue mix.

• Asking what happens to leftover food at events (and salvaging it if it would otherwise get tossed out).

• Reusing oil used for frying food to cook new dishes.

• Sometimes having food that isn't super fresh or particularly tasty (i.e. the tough steaks), but having the satisfaction that nothing got wasted.

P.S. Check out my friend Nicky's post that reflects on her walk with sustainable eating and her first wastetarian experience.

Expo/Logistics:

Course:

Fuel:

Final Notes:

This is normally where I'd show you my hilarious ugly race photos, but organization around this was also poor. I got an email with a link to my personal "race album," but there were only stock photos of Barcelona landmarks. They didn't seem to have the technology to identify photo subjects (I know my bib was visible the entire time, so it couldn't have been that). They have tens of thousands of photos that you can sort through based on your primary clothing color, but even that wasn't very accurate. I actually did scroll through for almost 30 mins, and found nothing...

Tips + Summary:

• Check your spam for the confirmation email, and consider using a non-Gmail email address since I never got mine, even to my spam. 

• Race organizers can be difficult to reach. Plan to wait at least a couple weeks to get any issue resolved.

• Don't worry if you see a bunch of people with yellow chips on race day. If you paid extra for bib with a chip, you don't need a yellow chip on your shoe.

• The course is flat, weather is typically mild, and every kilometer is well-marked. The last 400m has 5+ blowup arches though, so don't be thrown off by those and expect each one to be the finish line.

• Don't expect photos of yourself, as their identification system is poor :( I was really looking forward to my ugly race photos!

I know it seems like I have a lot of complaints, but despite these logistical issues, I enjoyed the race and my stay in Barcelona. If you go into the process knowing what to expect, things should go much more smoothly. I would happily recommend the race for the flat course and fun location. 

Shoot me any questions you have, and let me know what you thought of the race if you ran it too!

Run happy,

CW: sexual assault.
If you've been reading my ramblings for a while (or if you take a quick creep in my 2016 archives and earlier), you know that I used to do a lot of memoir writing on this blog. 
I would write about ridiculous happenings, like that one time I was convinced that a guy inviting me over for wine was just trying to be friends. Or about that other time I broke a lock I was picking and had to pay an 80£ fine. 
I wrote about my most jubilant moments, like my first marathon and breaking my half marathon PR by 5+ minutes. 
I would also write about what was gnawing at me, things that hurt. I wrote about the drifting from friends while studying abroad. I detailed my running injuries.
I haven't really been writing memoir for the past year or so, and it's been weird. Instead, I've been sharing more advice-style pieces, or posts revealing just enough personal experience to flirt with memoir. I haven't been able to bring myself to delve deeper. 
A couple things might be at play. For one, my French thesis was basically a selective memoir, focusing on my encounters with language and identity--it spanned from my childhood to my 2016-2017 study abroad experience. I worked all of senior year on it, and the final product was 70+ pages. It was the most I'd ever written, and I was tired afterwards.
That's the straightforward answer. If I try to psychoanalyze and go all Freud, however, I think there's more to it. 
2018 was a rough year for me. I poured my heart and soul into pursuing a fellowship that I didn't get. I struggled to do math research that I didn't really enjoy. I felt isolated from the campus community since I only had one non-thesis class and no longer played in the orchestra. I couldn't figure out why my running performance was dwindling. But beyond the everyday challenges, I was also grappling with trauma. Because of all the national sexual assault scandals (Weinstein, Aziz Ansari), I was finally beginning to process my own experiences. I had previously blocked them away, written them off as my own weakness, my inability to stand my ground. I eventually realized that I was the one who had been seriously wronged. And I was angry. 
It was grossly unjust that I alone bore the burden of the assault. I faced a lifetime of psychological damage, all while the perpetrator continued his life unscathed, perhaps even ignorant of the gravity of his actions. Our friends, unaware, interacted with him as normal, as if he were a "good guy." Nothing was going to happen if I remained silent. No one would learn anything. So I resolved to say something. 
Coming forward with an account of sexual assault is volatile business, especially if the perpetrator is part of your friend group. In the aftermath, I sometimes bitterly joked: if you want to know someone's true nature, rightfully accuse them of sexual assault. The same goes for your friends: rightfully accuse their loved ones of sexual assault, and you'll know who's really with you. 
I tried to talk to him about it. Tried to make him understand the harm he inflicted. His response didn't come for 10 days, and when it did, it was inadequate: I'm sorry you feel that way...I didn't mean to hurt you...It's clear that we interpret these events differently. I tried to continue the conversation--I wouldn't accept that response. Nothing.
If I couldn't get direct justice, I wanted social justice. I decided to run a 50k and raise money for RAINN, the nation's largest anti-sexual assault network. In conjunction with the fundraiser, I publicly shared my story, though careful not to name names. The love and support poured in, with over $1400 from 70+ donors. Other survivors reached out to me to share their stories. It felt nice to do something, even if it was small in the grand scheme of things. 
Unfortunately, not every reaction was positive--some were quite ugly. I lost a close friend in the process. He shamed me for coming forward, saying that there was "no defense for a rape accusation." He said he could never really know what happened, so he cut everyone involved out of his life. Other acquaintances--those I once respected, or with whom I exchanged the occasional friendly Facebook comment--also refused to believe me, or simply stopped initiating contact with me. 
Along the way, I stumbled upon some alarming holes in university Title IX policies and the criminal justice system. There is no process to adjudicate alumni sexual misconduct claims, even if the misconduct occurred while the alum was a student, AND even if the alum is benefiting from institutional support, such as recommendation letters or post-grad scholarships. In the criminal justice process, there is actually no "sexual assault" charge. It's either "rape," which legally must involve force (this does NOT mirror society's accepted definition of rape), or "indecent assault and battery." There was little I could do to change the legal system, but even my college was reluctant to bear the burden with me. The sad truth is that a lot of Title IX offices operate by legal liability--if they're not legally obliged to do something, they often won't. Even if they have an ethical and moral obligation that suggests otherwise.
Long story short: I've been wanting to write memoir about this. I've been wanting push my college to change their policies. I've been wanting to better process what's happened and to share my experience with others who are also fighting. I'm just tired. And I don't want to think about this. 
As I mentioned in a previous post, every minute I spend grappling with this trauma is another minute that the perpetrator has robbed from me. I want to live normally. I don't want to be known as the girl always rambling about sexual assault. I don't want to bear the burden of justice alone.
I don't want to deal with this, but I also want things to change. I want to write so that maybe they will. I want to write so that I can find closure without direct justice. 
I want to write, but I'm also afraid. While I was still in denial about the assault, I actually wrote about my relationship with the perpetrator. It was my first relationship, and I idealized it. I wrote that the relationship wasn't perfect and that he was often unavailable, but that I was grateful for the resonant moments that we did share together. I proclaimed that it was better to love temporarily than not at all. It used to be my proudest piece. Now, I'm disgusted by it. Isn't it funny how our perception can even turn "good" memories sour?
Even if there's nothing ideal about this situation, I'm afraid of pouring my soul into another piece that I'll later toss away and deem over-romanticized. I'm afraid of producing writing that is inadequate, that fails to embody the emotions I've felt and address the serious issues at hand. I'm afraid that nothing will happen even if I write, even if I bring myself to face the trauma. 
I'm afraid, but I know that writing is the one thing I can do. Sexual assault is a crime that often leaves survivors feeling powerless--whether it's their bodily autonomy, or in the pursuit of justice. Writing can educate; there are a lot of misconceptions, and general ignorance persists. Perhaps writing can even assemble more voices to demand justice, more people to share the burden. 
I'm dreading the long process ahead (hello hours of agonizing over one sentence), but I know that this is what I want and need to do. I want to write so I (we) don't have to be tired anymore. 

Registration:

I signed up online a week or so before the event. The 10.4k was 21 euros, and the half marathon was 26 euros. Prices were 5 euros cheaper for both races if you signed up before June 1st. There is also same-day (and day before) registration, but only if they haven't reached the 5500 participant limit.

Medical certificates/physicals are always required for French races, and you can upload a copy of yours when you register.

You could pick up your packets either the day before, or the day of. The expo was relatively small and had mostly charity vendors, trail race advertising stands, shoe vendors, and a wine stand (unfortunately, it wasn't free). Swag was nonexistent since registration fees were low--packet pickup really just consisted of picking up our bib; nothing else was in the envelope. There were, however, some product samples in our post-race bags (sunburn cream, bandaids, snacks). And instead of awarding medals, each finisher got a bottle of Bourgogne wine.

The expo center was not well-heated, so definitely avoid coming too early and having to wait in the cold. Bathroom lines also got ridiculously long for women, so go at home before you come.

Course: 

The race was hilly as I should've expected, with elevation gain of about 430ft. The middle section of the course is the most challenging, with a handful of major inclines. The other parts of the race are pretty manageable.

We ran along paved roads, so that was no issue. The kilometer markers, however, seemed off to me--my run tracker always had slightly different distances. It was also easy to get 10.4k markers mixed up with the half marathon markers; the course was nearly identical for some duration, but markers were 100-200m apart. The signs are color-coded, however, so make sure to look out for your race color.

It's important to note that the beginning of the race is VERY crowded. The first turn out of the city can get jammed, so plan accordingly. The race is chip-timed, so you don't need to worry about the time it takes to get across the starting line in the sea of people.

Fuel:

Ugly Race Photos: 

For your viewing pleasure, here are the happiest race photos I've ever taken. To be ironic, I actually posted these in an instagram story with the hashtag #runhappy. I'm actually still wondering whether I should buy these though because they're priceless, especially the rightmost one. Totally worth the 12 euros, am I right?
So pro tip: if you want nice photos, be sure to smile at the finish!

---

Tips + Summary

• Don't show up too early, especially if it's a cold day. The race expo area is pretty chilly, and there's not a ton to do.
• Prepare for a traffic jam at the start of the race--there's a sharp turn and lots of participants!
• Swag is minimal (no t-shirt or medal), but you do get a finisher bottle of Bourgogne wine.
• The course is HILLY, as is typical of vineyards. Not ideal for a PR.
• Keep your race distance markers straight, as the 10.4k and half marathon signs are slightly off (look for signs in your race's color).
• Smile at the finish, unless you want to look like me :)

#runhappy,