It's not the best sign when you start slacking with your blog less than six posts into it, but I swear I have a decent enough reason. See, in the span of a week I was handling a national fencing title and trying not to die.
That might have been a bit dramatic. The first part was true. Last weekend, I was in Indianapolis covering the NCAA Fencing Championships for Notre Dame, the school I work for. We were not only hosting the thing, but we ended up winning it, so I went from busy to bogged down. It was an incredibly cool experience, despite my lack of fencing knowledge, but I barely had time to breathe.
Not that I could anyway. On Friday, I got hit with what was possibly the flu, or at least the worst cold of my life. Now, if you're not familiar with fencing — I mean, who is? — the NCAA tournament is four FULL days of competition. I spent three of them blowing my nose and chugging water. The fact that I was logging an average of 12 hours of work per day did me no favors.
Being a part of the title run was quite the rush, though, even though it made my job about five times more stressful. As the event's host school, I was in charge of media coordination for the tournament on top of covering my own school's exploits. Thankfully, I had a coworker on hand to help.
Here's a little taste of what I was responsible for once it became clear we were going to win:
- Work with on-site videographer to get footage of clinching point.
- Immediate recap on website once title was clinched.
- Coordinate with social media and graphics team to shore up social media message once title is in hand.
- Begin coordinating a celebratory return to campus that night.
- Set up media availability for that night and the following day for local outlets to cover the championship.
- Write event overview for entire championships (not just ND).
- Update photo galleries on website.
- Distribute final results to participating schools.
- Conduct post-event interviews with coach and three student-athletes.
- Millions of minute tasks throughout the day.
All while unable to breathe out of my right nostril.
Pretty proud moment. Plus, I get a pretty sweet ring.
By Monday, though, I hit the wall. I stayed home from work the next two days except to facilitate media availability. I FaceTimed with Kyle, who told me I looked terrible and clarified today that "it was scary seeing you that pale white." My dad, who came over to drop off DayQuil (what a guy), told me I looked like shit. It was really a confidence-boosting day, Monday.
Somehow, I miraculously managed to start Whole30 on Monday, though not having much of an appetite helped. Today is Day 3, and apart from the occasional pang for a crusty piece of bread, it's gone quite smoothly. Maybe starting Whole30 while deathly ill is the answer to an easy transition. We'll see how Day 4 goes.