So last month I was in the beautiful and ever sprawling SoCal to host and organize our LA urban adventure race. Everything was going so well with the event until our photographer calls and tells me around noon to tell me about a Special Olympics torch lighting ceremony taking place right over the top of Dorris Day’s hand prints! Oh no!!! Why is this a tragedy you ask? Because that was one of checkpoints where our adventure racers needed to locate and take picture proving that they were there was directly beneath the ceremony! Oh it gets better…
So I send my trusty assistant, Arielle Scott, to Grauman’s Chinese Theatre to “become the the checkpoint”
for the duration of the ceremony because that is what High Trek Adventure does 
She gets there and immediately calls me and tells me to bring over one of our tear drop banners. Luckily I was only three blocks away. I broke down a banner, packed it, and rushed as fast as my little legs could carry me, the banner and the dirty ten pound weight.
Finally I got there and not a moment too soon. I noticed our participants looking everywhere for the D. Day prints, but obviously it couldn’t be found. We flagged them down and asked them to give us the answer. If they guessed correctly we let them take a picture of Arielle. So good so far, right?
Then the torch lighting ceremony turned into a parade as a group of about 50 volunteers left the front of the theatre and began running east on Hollywood Blvd. The torch carrying group was about a 3/4 of a block removed from us and they had a police blockade essentially shutting down Hollywood Blvd. I turned to Ari and told her that were going to make a break for it and run across the vacant street.
I hastily grabed the HTA banner and began running and as quickly as I began, I stopped. I bit it right in the middle of the street with hundreds of onlookers around. (I presume I was caught in many photos that day: me in the foreground and the Special Olympic runners in the background.) I severely pulled my left calf muscle. I hurt it so bad that I couldn’t walk back to the host site. We got a cab for our two block trek back to Catalina Jazz Club. But the show must go on!
I limped the rest of the day and for the next two weeks. I’m feeling better now, but will never forget that moment for as long as I live!
