Sad news
Everyone, this is Katy. I am Jess's roommate. She gave me her username and password before we went on our run this morning so that, in the event of her death, I could log in and tell you all what happened. I am sorry to tell you that our dear friend Jess has passed from this life.
Looking back, I guess there were warning signs. The way she made a lovely meal for us all the night before. One last offering from the Jessmonster. How she lovingly gave me a high five before we began the run. She knew in her heart that this would be her last Earthly Run.
We started out fine. The sun was a little bright, but there was an occasional breeze. It was out in the country in farmland, so we were cheered on by the migrant workers in the fields. They waved and smiled, but I know that they were making fun of us as we passed by. I swear I heard someone say, "pinche gueros locos" as we passed a blueberry patch. I guess it doesn't really make a whole lot of sense to pay lots of money so that you can get up at 5 Am to sweat and grunt and face shin splints and death (in Jess's case).
Anyhoo, we were running along like we usually do, laughing at the funny way that certain people run, scratching our heads at the man who passed us with band-aids on his NIPPLES. At about mile 3, Jess started to look tired, but she was a trooper and kept on. We were spurred by the fact that the speed walkers were beginning to pass us at this point. Our only goal for the run was to not finish dead last. We wanted to achieve that goal.
At 3 1/2 miles, Jess began to moan. She clutched her sides and turned to me, still lurching along, "I don't think I can go on anymore".
"Just try to make it to the next water stand and we'll take a walk break" I said cheerily.
"No, I mean I don't think I..." and she fell to the ground. Rolling into a raspberry bush as runners whooshed by us.
"Jess!" I cried. "I'm coming for you!" I cried, as I fought through the throng of fat free bodies powering past.
When I finally got to her, she was bruised and scratched. There was a little raspberry juice trickling from the corner of her mouth. I took her in my arms, sobbing. Her eyes were glassy. I knew she wasn't going to make it.
She looked up at me. "Garish...tweed..." and then she was gone.
I held her. When my shin splints were gone, I grabbed a couple of raspberries for the road, slung my fallen roomie over my shoulders, and finished the race in record time. But this blog is not supposed to be about me.
Let's all take some time to remember this wonderful, kind, intelligent, mean (in a good way), thoughtful woman.
In tribute to the Jessmonster, let's all comment about the things we will miss most about her. I am sure they have DSL in Heaven.
Personally, I will miss her blueberry muffins.
Sincerely,
tyKa
Looking back, I guess there were warning signs. The way she made a lovely meal for us all the night before. One last offering from the Jessmonster. How she lovingly gave me a high five before we began the run. She knew in her heart that this would be her last Earthly Run.
We started out fine. The sun was a little bright, but there was an occasional breeze. It was out in the country in farmland, so we were cheered on by the migrant workers in the fields. They waved and smiled, but I know that they were making fun of us as we passed by. I swear I heard someone say, "pinche gueros locos" as we passed a blueberry patch. I guess it doesn't really make a whole lot of sense to pay lots of money so that you can get up at 5 Am to sweat and grunt and face shin splints and death (in Jess's case).
Anyhoo, we were running along like we usually do, laughing at the funny way that certain people run, scratching our heads at the man who passed us with band-aids on his NIPPLES. At about mile 3, Jess started to look tired, but she was a trooper and kept on. We were spurred by the fact that the speed walkers were beginning to pass us at this point. Our only goal for the run was to not finish dead last. We wanted to achieve that goal.
At 3 1/2 miles, Jess began to moan. She clutched her sides and turned to me, still lurching along, "I don't think I can go on anymore".
"Just try to make it to the next water stand and we'll take a walk break" I said cheerily.
"No, I mean I don't think I..." and she fell to the ground. Rolling into a raspberry bush as runners whooshed by us.
"Jess!" I cried. "I'm coming for you!" I cried, as I fought through the throng of fat free bodies powering past.
When I finally got to her, she was bruised and scratched. There was a little raspberry juice trickling from the corner of her mouth. I took her in my arms, sobbing. Her eyes were glassy. I knew she wasn't going to make it.
She looked up at me. "Garish...tweed..." and then she was gone.
I held her. When my shin splints were gone, I grabbed a couple of raspberries for the road, slung my fallen roomie over my shoulders, and finished the race in record time. But this blog is not supposed to be about me.
Let's all take some time to remember this wonderful, kind, intelligent, mean (in a good way), thoughtful woman.
In tribute to the Jessmonster, let's all comment about the things we will miss most about her. I am sure they have DSL in Heaven.
Personally, I will miss her blueberry muffins.
Sincerely,
tyKa
posted by Jess at 2:07 PM
1 Comments:
I will personally miss Jess' amazing cooking, including blueberry cheese tarts, oatmeal cookies, various delicious breads and many lent-worthy treats. Maybe I'll even loose a few pounds now that she's gone...
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