GCG Ideas would like to warmly welcome a few of our favorites to our blog roll! Please check out the links below…at your own risk of gaining vast insight and knowledge, of course….
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I found an article about running humor by Christine Luff on About.com. I love these “You know you’re a runner when…” statements from Luff’s article:
• You smirk when non-runners ask you, “So how long is this marathon?”
• You no longer make fun of fanny packs because your running belt looks very similar (although cooler) to one.
• You know how to take a cup of water from a water stop without choking on it or spilling it all over yourself.
• You no longer hate port-a-johns. In fact, there have been many times when you’ve been very happy to see one.
• You’ve had your running shoes for three months and you know it’s already time to replace them.
• You know where exactly one mile from your front door is (in any direction).
• You know how to correctly spell and pronounce plantar fasciitis.
• Your runs are sometimes longer than your commute to work or school.
And here are a few of my own:
• You know that the best way to prevent chafing is a steady supply of Body Glide.
• Your massage therapist is your best friend.
• You know that “EP” is an abbreviation for emergency packs that contain relief for bodily functions requiring “TP.”
• You believe that ice baths provide relief instead of torture.
• You’re familiar with the idea that your spinal discs are similar to jelly donuts. Jelly ooze is bad.
• You know never to cheer on a fellow runner by saying “You’re almost done.”
• You survive on a steady training diet of gummy bears, pretzels, peanut butter and jelly, Gus, Chomps, Gatorade, bagels, bananas and Clif Bars.
• You know that you can blame blisters and loss of toenails on the fact that you are a pronator.
• You’ve yelled at strangers on the course for talking about bacon while you’re at mile 20.
• You know the true meaning of the “bite me” phase, survived it and have the stories to go along with it.
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The weekend of the race was extremely emotional. I didn’t know whether to feel frightened at the huge physical challenge that lay in front of me, proud to be facing it or sad to be finishing it.
I suppose I felt it all.
My dad traveled with me to cheer me on. He came with posters designed to motivate me along the race. Unable to make the trip to San Francisco, my mother and sister arranged a phone tree of friends and family members to call me throughout the race. My cousin,Wendy, who lives in San Francisco, gave me a care package with a beautiful necklace that said, “I believe.”
The race began at 5:30 a.m.
We walked through Fisherman’s Wharf, along Crissy Field and next to the Golden Gate Bridge, through some beautiful San Francisco neighborhoods, down to the beach, through Golden Gate Park, along the Great Highway, around Lake Merced and back up the Great Highway to the Finish Line.
26.2 miles.
The race theme was “Run like a girl.” There were fabulous signs along the race path:
• Celebrate like a girl.
• Overcome like a girl.
• Endure like a girl.
• Kiss like a girl.
• Give like a girl.
• I’ll prove them wrong.
• Skinny jeans ahead.
• This is your road because you gave up sleeping late on weekends.
• Remember the god of victory was actually a goddess.
Manuel told me and Dolores around mile 18 that mental fortitude was the key. He told us to push away all negative thoughts and replace them with the positive. That was harder than you can imagine.
At mile 21 or so, I reached my “bite me” phase. Dolores laughed at me when I asked a few of the women on the course to stop talking about bacon. I think deep down she cheered for me when I yelled “Shut up!” to a car passing by who told me we were almost finished when we still had at least four or five miles left to go.
The last three or four miles on the Great Highway were torture. My legs hurt, my feet ached and my back was killing me. I was out of energy.
It took four people to walk me to the Finish Line.
My mother’s friend Kathy, a Dallas coach, joined me around mile 23. She asked me questions to keep my mind off the pain. She told me how proud my mother would be of me. Liesel joined me next. Walking with Liesel, as I had all season, was a huge comfort. Dee had already finished the half. She joined me to keep my spirits up. One mile away from the Finish Line, Dad walked with me too.
I didn’t think I could finish.
My friends kept telling me I was so close. I told them the Finish Line was too far.
About 25 feet from the Finish Line, race officials keep those who are not actually participating in the race from continuing. I didn’t expect that. I remember looking back at Liesel as she jumped and cheered with arms flailing, “You’ve got this, girl! Go! This is your moment!”
Dad tried to follow me along the sidelines with his video camera. I remember seeing Meredith’s smiling face cheering me on.
And then I finished.
I cannot explain the tremendous sense of satisfaction I felt. This is the biggest, hardest personal goal I have ever achieved. I will never be the same.
But after all was said and done, it was something the night before the race that I believe best summed up my marathon experience. At the TNT inspiration dinner, one team of women wore T-shirts that said:
The woman who started is not the woman who finished.
I couldn’t agree more.
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To celebrate its 100th anniversary, the Fort Worth chapter of the American Advertising Federation hosted a swank party featuring Matthew Weiner, creator and executive producer of the hit television series Mad Men.
As a member of the AAF-Fort Worth board, I can tell you that this was no small undertaking. When we throw a party, we do it right. That night, Casa Manana was, according to a recent news article, “dripping with sexy people” decked out in their best adaptations of Mad Men attire. There was even a raffle for some elegant swag – a string of Majorca pearls from Neiman Marcus.
Following a cocktail reception, we settled in – not quite sure what to expect – to hear from the creative genius behind a show known for its gorgeous imagery and accurate portrayal of ad agency life in the 1960s.
Mr. Weiner did not disappoint. His stream-of-conscious approach was funny, refreshing and real. Even his tangents were relevant – we just had to keep up with him. Mr. Weiner’s most surprising quality was his willingness to be vulnerable in front of a room full of strangers. He spoke about how personally he takes character development, and how he pulls some of his best material from his own life experiences. He measures success by how true-to-life the scenes feel; he takes the most pride in the way private moments are portrayed, and the fact that the characters actually listen, taking in the words their counterparts speak, before responding.
“It’s real life with more eloquent conversations and attractive people,” he said.
His one piece of advice was to always be open to the world so as not to filter out opportunities for greatness. He said that he’s amazed at the amount of time people spend behind a desk when more meaningful work can be accomplished by taking a five-minute walk around the block.
Mr. Weiner’s speech, coupled with handpicked clips from the show, was an event GCG was proud to sponsor. Would have been a perfect night, if only I’d been able to get my hands on those pearls…
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During my Saturday morning trainings, I found a true friend and walking partner in Dolores, a teammate who was also planning to walk the full marathon in San Francisco. Her daughter, Danielle, is a sophomore at TCU who is battling leukemia. Our team captain, Don, is a leukemia survivor who ran his first marathon while he was still going through chemotherapy. Not too long ago, he ran another marathon in Rome, where views of the Vatican helped keep him inspired. He often trains with his wife, a wonderful woman with a huge heart.
I found many other friends in TNT as well. Running coaches Manuel and Carlo always offered fabulous advice and support. Manuel drove me to my car after my first 15-mile training session when my feet hurt so badly that I didn’t think I could walk the half-mile back. He also encouraged and comforted me on the day when we were supposed to complete 20 miles (let’s just call it a very bad training day for me). As for Carlo, he was a former classmate of mine that I never officially met during my days at TCU. We became fast friends and share many friendships with people in the community.
Our walking coach, Liesel, spent many hours with Dolores and me. There were lots of days when she kept us going, kept our minds off the long training and kept us focused on our goal. Her support made a huge impact on my training; I couldn’t have done it without her.
Liesel’s good friend Dianna was a mentor to many of my teammates. One time at El Scorcho, a 50K ultramarathon, Dianna’s determination inspired me and brought me to tears. And then there was Cara, who was my mentor. She called me regularly to check in on me and offer her support. Some days she would even curb her own training to walk with me.
Dee was another walker who gave me invaluable advice and became a dear friend. We’ll always share a laugh recalling the 18-mile walk where we were forced to ford a flooded trail during a torrential downpour.
Meredith was our TNT staff member support. I’ll always remember her as the first friendly face I met before training even started. I can’t forget Dawn, who trained for the half-marathon along with her good friend, Regina. These two gals have tremendous energy and spirit (and I’ll never decline one of Regina’s post-training massages, either).
Renae was one of the first trainees I met. She has beautiful children and I loved hearing the stories of how they supported her endeavors. Chenene and JJ were two more of my team of fabulous walking friends. Sweet Jennifer trained through pain in her hips and some of the worst blisters I’ve ever seen. Melissa, who was my amazing roommate in San Francisco, began as a non-runner and quickly became a super runner. Beautiful Beverly lost her husband prior to the start of our training season. She trained to heal.
And then there was Sarah. Her mom and dad both suffered from lymphoma before Sarah was diagnosed herself. She trained to support those who supported her during her own illness.
I also found tremendous support from the friends and family members who donated to my fundraising efforts. As part of the TNT program, I was required to raise $3,900 for LLS – I raised more than $4,100. I was particularly touched by my family friends who donated, including one of my sister’s students and several of my dad’s golf buddies. A friend from high school, who I haven’t seen in 13 years, donated more than $50. One of my favorite college professors, a woman I admire beyond words, donated $200. I was overwhelmed.
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Over the holidays, people asked me – on what seemed to be an hourly basis – “What do you do?”
“Well, that’s easy,” I would respond. “I work for a marketing firm.”
“Well, I know that,” they would say. “But what do you DO?”
And then I would cringe. You see, I’m very proud of what I do; I believe my job is important and so does GCG Marketing. But the people asking me this daunting question were not in the marketing realm. They had no clue about the advertising world. Their homepage wasn’t Ad Age and they could hardly grasp the concept of this “Facebook” thing.
I felt doomed. Helpless.
But instead of staring blankly and quickly walking away, I responded. “I am the Community Development Coordinator. I specialize in social media and social networking.”
Blank stares.
“Let me explain further,” I say. “I use social networking sites and media for online public relations efforts and online community interaction for the expansion of both the company and our clients.”
Blank stares and crickets.
So it seems as though I’ve failed at communicating – the one job I’m supposed to be an expert on. Or have I?
In the advertising and marketing industry, what happened an hour ago is old news. Therefore, what happened months, if not years ago, (this large switch to digital, Web 2.0 and social media) can seem completely normal and part of our everyday lives.
But to those who are not in the industry – social media is a foreign animal. I get that. And I think Traci Armstrong, director of talent acquisition at Organic and an author for Advertising Age, gets it as well. In her recent article, she depicts the role of a “Community Manager.” Hmm…That sounds eerily familiar…
Armstrong describes the role of a community manager and how copywriters and journalists could make an easy transition into this new position. At the same time, she shares this gem of information:
“Many like to blame ad-industry job losses on the digital shift. As marketers continue to steer their dollars toward a digital approach, traditional workers are left scrambling to transition their skills. And, the truth is, the digital era is creating new jobs that recruiters are having difficulty finding talent for. One such area of job growth is social media and the evolving role of a ‘community manager’.”
Traci Armstrong is speaking my language.
Maybe I needed her to speak to my relatives over the holidays…
This shift toward social media and social networking is becoming more mainstream. It’s inching closer to the “norm” and in some cases, is being considered a form of traditional media.
But let’s not get too wild here. I’ve determined a few simple ways to compare what I do, to a few familiar careers:
1. PR Specialist: I conduct public relations for a marketing firm. But what I do is online, and through specific outlets: Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, etc. I have to stay up-to-date on current events, news, the most recent developments and trends – but in the social media world. So, just as you might read a newspaper every morning, I am constantly reading tweets, status updates, blog entries, Facebook developer blogs, etc.
2. Teacher: Just as a teacher would manage a group of students, create an interactive environment for them to learn, keep them updated on the status of current events and participate in discussions – I do these things for the online community. Through status updates, picture uploads, tweets, discussion topics, and creating a stimulating environment for fans and clients online, I have become somewhat of a social media teacher.
3. Journalist: Similar to a journalist, I report the news. I just report it on a different platform – a social network platform. I can report anything from national to local to industry or company news.
4. Spokesperson: And last, (but certainly not least), I am the online voice and a messenger of GCG Marketing. I represent the company through our work and ideas and act to create a noticeable brand online.
So when all is said and done, if these ideas still seem a little hard to understand, feel free to assume I play on Facebook all day and someone pays me to do it.
Problem solved.
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TNT is an organization that benefits the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Many of the people who participate in TNT activities are leukemia patients or survivors of leukemia or other blood cancers, their friends and family members. When I began my training, I didn’t know anybody with this type of disease. So while I wish I could say that I began my training in support of these very brave individuals, I can’t.
I trained for me.
The goal was the Nike Women’s Marathon in San Francisco on Oct. 18, 2009.
I trained after work three nights each week. Weekday mileage started at two miles and slowly increased to eight. Saturday team trainings began at 6:30 a.m. They also began at two miles. Our longest Saturday distance before the race was 20 miles.
Early in my training, I suffered two leg injuries related to a bulging disc in my back. Shortly thereafter, I was diagnosed with chostochondritis, inflammation in the cartilage surrounding the rib cage. Each of these tested my determination. I fell behind in my training, causing me to give up my idea of running in exchange for walking the marathon. Despite it all, the mental challenge was much more difficult than the physical.
Training four days a week, especially so early on Saturday mornings, requires a great deal of discipline. I had to dig deep so many times to find that discipline. As a walker, training took a significant amount of time – much more than that of a runner. My life activity consisted of working, walking, eating and sleeping. I was also forced to learn mind tricks to avoid boredom while training. It’s really not smart to train with an iPod. Cyclists can sneak up on you from behind, and it’s just not 100 percent safe for women training alone. However, I cheated on those rules and found significant enjoyment listening to the Sookie Stackhouse audiobooks.
It wasn’t easy. But I couldn’t give up. That wasn’t an option.
Tune in next week for an update on the journey toward my marathon.
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‘Twas the week before Christmas, and all through the place
Everyone had this crazed look on their face.
The AE’s were ready to pull out their hair
Afraid of the deadlines that soon would be there.
The creative team all were in need of a shave
And one smelled as if he’d forgotten to bathe.
Accounting was lost in a mountain of forms;
The interns burned post-it notes to try and stay warm.
Our two-day vacation meant five days of work
Were now crammed into three; we were going berserk.
But what was the point of this holiday rush
That was turning our brains into red and green mush?
“There must be a positive spin we can make
To help make December a bit easier to take.”
So we thought of our favorites and wrote them all out
To remind ourselves just what the season’s about.
You’ll find them on Facebook; we hope you’ll peruse;
And tell us YOUR favorite thing if you so choose.
Just upload a photo or write on our wall
The part of the season you like best of all.
Happy Holidays from all of us at GCG Marketing.
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I’d like to preface my post with the motivation behind writing this particular blog. You see, I completed a personal goal. A marathon, to be exact. And because this accomplishment was unlike any other I had achieved in my life, I wanted to document the experience and share it with all of you. So, in keeping with the theme, this post will be the first of five – a marathon of my marathon, if you will. That said, I hope you enjoy reading about my journey and all its ups and downs. But remember to pace yourself here – this is not a sprint, this is a marathon.
Sometimes I get crazy ideas in my head.
Usually, I’m able to battle against the truly absurd and latch onto reality. So I found myself in a quandary several months ago, when insanity ultimately claimed victory over my rational being.
“Run a marathon,” the little devil on my shoulder kept telling me. “You want to run a marathon.”
Let me explain for those of you who are blessed enough to have the gift of athletic ability.
I have none.
I was taken out of soccer in elementary school because I didn’t understand the positions. Instead of running, I skipped and preferred to pick flowers in the field over chasing the ball. Forget team sports and any activity that requires hand-eye coordination. Mom placed me in figure skating and gymnastics. No luck there either. My knees were too weak for success in the Ice Capades, and an unfortunate experience with the high beam and a wall left me unconscious on the mats in the gym.
Needless to say, completing a 26.2-mile jaunt didn’t sound to my friends and family like something that I would do. So I think it took everyone by surprise when I attended an informational meeting for Team in Training (TNT) to prepare for my planned participation in a full marathon in just six months. I clearly remember some of the comments:
- Running is bad for your body.
- There’s a reason that Greek guy died when he got to Athens.
- I just don’t think you can do it – not in six months.
Word to the wise – if you want me to do something, just tell me I can’t. I’ll prove you wrong.
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I don’t know how they found me. Here, between the silent waving pines and drifting snow, I’d retired to a life of peace and minimalism. No more guns. No more explosive- laden arrows. No more sweaty rampages through wave after wave of enemy foot soldiers. I’d found my sanctuary. My past only haunted my nightmares now.
I don’t know how they found me. But I should have expected it. The Agency has its ways.
As the black helicopter approached, I could clearly make out the “GCG Healthcare” logo on the tail. At touchdown, the General stepped off and walked stiffly toward me. A glare of contempt was all he offered before I was given my orders. I knew what he was here for before he even spoke the words. They were sending me back. Back to New York.
The 2009 Medical Marketing & Media Awards were held October 29 in Manhattan, and as Kalyn noted here, GCG Healthcare was a finalist in the Best Corporate Advertisement/Campaign category. Our Children’s Neuroblastoma Cancer Foundation campaign, which had previously garnered a Manny Award as well as several ADDY awards, was among five finalists. With other contenders in our category doing great work for Johnson & Johnson, Abbott Laboratories and other heavy hitters, we knew we had some stiff competition.
As I’d previously done with the Manny Award trip, I kept a log of the experience for posterity. Here are a few excerpts:
Thurs, 8:40 a.m.
Sitting on the tarmac at DFW with large storm approaching. A delay would set us back several hours, endangering our ability to make it to the awards gala on time. Sweat beads on my forehead as I anxiously glance from side to side, mumbling under my breath how I wish they would get us off the ground. Turns out, this is a great way to meet the Federal Air Marshal on the plane.
Thurs, 10:45 a.m.
Successfully departed before the storm reached the airport. Now cruising at 31,000 feet somewhere over Missouri. My beautiful wife, Elizabeth, who is accompanying me on the trip, points out the absurdity of SCUBA gear for cats in the SkyMall magazine. I smile, nod, and fretfully try to remember where I kept that receipt.
Thurs, 3:00 p.m.
Arrived at La Guardia in New York City and easily got a cab. About $45 and one hour later, I no longer fear death, for I have stared it in the face and handed it a 16% tip.
Thurs, 4:40 p.m.
Checked in to the hotel in midtown and started getting ready for the awards ceremony. The wife nixes my bolo tie and hands me the boring necktie she packed for me. She just doesn’t understand that New York is all about taking fashion risks and daring to look like an idiot.
Thurs, 6:20 p.m.
As we arrive at the MM&M awards ceremony, at Tavern on the Green in Central Park, I can’t help but reflect on the decades of history the building is steeped in. I mean, this is the exact place where Rick Moranis was caught by the demon dog thing in Ghostbusters. Elizabeth refuses to help me reenact the scene and instead pulls me inside. The cocktails and hors d’oeuvres are nice enough, I guess, but disappointment is all I can taste for the moment. That was, like, the best scene in the whole movie.
Thurs, 7:15 p.m.
After cocktails, we’re ushered into a huge tent for dinner and the awards ceremony. Over our meal, we chat with fellow tablemates and learn about the history and cultural diversity of Jersey, including the bloody Springsteen-Bon Jovi War of 1989.
Thurs, 8:40 p.m.
Our award category is next. I’m as excited as Ray Parker Jr. must have been when his song Ghostbusters was nominated for Best Original Song at the 57th Annual Academy Awards.
Thurs, 8:45 p.m.
Another win for GCG Healthcare! It is a great feeling to know that the agency’s work is being recognized on such a national stage. Thankfully, no acceptance speeches are allowed for this ceremony. While I wasn’t necessarily nervous about speaking in front of 700 people, I was dreading the obligatory Kanye West jokes I would have to write for this blog.
Fri, 8:30 a.m.
Like my last trip to NYC, the day after the ceremony will be packed with as much sightseeing as possible before heading back home. With a camera and a shiny, new MM&M award in tow, Elizabeth and I head out into the city. I’m looking forward to seeing all the varied styles of architecture in midtown Manhattan. Elizabeth is looking forward to seeing the architecture of various fitting rooms on Fifth Avenue.
Fri, 11:50 a.m.
St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Saks Fifth Ave. and Grand Central Station are all very impressive, but 30 Rockefeller Plaza isn’t nearly as funny as it is on TV. Looks fatter, too.
Fri, 1:15 p.m.
Finally arrive at the New York Public Library. This place is thick with Ghostbusters history and, sadly, uppity attitudes. They’re pretty insistent that they be known as a repository of knowledge rather than that cool place where the freaky librarian ghost lives.
Fri, 3:45 p.m.
Turned the corner at 42nd and Broadway and caught my first glimpse of Times Square. Immediately fell to the ground in a frothing seizure. Hit my head against a curb three times before Elizabeth was able to shove a pencil between my teeth to keep me from swallowing my tongue.
Fri, 3:50 p.m.
Here, amongst the acres of flashing obnoxiousness that is Times Square, I saw what unbridled advertising could do when unleashed upon a city. This is what happens when you “make the logo bigger.” This is why they called it the Manhattan Project. Such power used for evil. Dearest Oppenheimer, now I understand your lament, “Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.”
Fri, 4:10 p.m.
There is an Olive Garden restaurant here in Times Square. There are people eating the food inside. There are people eating Italian food in New York at an Olive Garden. In New York City. Olive Garden. A single tear rolls down my cheek.
Fri, 4:45 p.m.
We’ve escaped the tourist hoards and naked cowboys of Times Square and retreated to Central Park. The leaves are in perfect form, offering a wonderful contrast to the city surrounding us. I’d continue waxing poetic if the couple on the bench next to us wasn’t actively procreating. Have to leave now.
Fri, 5:50 p.m.
Leaving Central Park and heading back south. As we pass the glass cube Apple Store on 5th Avenue, we take a picture using my iPhone. Triple bonus points.
Fri, 6:30 p.m.
Arriving at the Museum of Modern Art, we navigate the crowds toward the first exhibit, Water Lilies by Monet. My inner art dork is in heaven. Fortunately, the majority of the crowd seems to be high-school-aged kids. Rather than crowding around the works of Rothko, Lichtenstein, Warhol and Pollock, they all swarm toward anything depicting nudity, giggling like…well, giggling a lot like I was. I really need to grow up.
Fri, 8:30 p.m.
Having gotten our fill of culture, we left the MoMA and set out in search of some good, authentic Italian food for dinner. Tucked away at the back of a long, narrow hall, we found a quaint eatery serving handmade New York-style pastas and calzones. As we ate, Elizabeth and I looked into each others eyes and lovingly shared just how absolutely terrible this food was. Seriously. Extraordinarily awful. Oh, how we wished we had gone to the Olive Garden.
Fri, 10:20 p.m.
Looking for a good bakery for a little dessert. Heck, even a convenience store roll of mints would do. Anything to get this taste out of our mouths. We settle on a little shop selling an assortment of pies and pastries. Cheesecake for the missus, cannoli for me.
Fri, 10:45 p.m.
Exhausted from the day, we head back toward our hotel. As we walk, we reminisce on all we’ve seen in the city. What struck us most was the truly amazing diversity…of smells. A veritable living tapestry of perfumes, garbage, stale water, Halal carts, manure, rust, fish, flowers and exhaust. Stenches from all walks of life coexisting as one in this urban symphony.
Sat, 6:30 a.m.
Packing our bags and hurrying out the door to catch our flight, we take one last look at the city. Once again, New York has given us something no other city could. Specifically, another freaking heavy award that airport security is going to give me hell about. Thanks a lot, Big Apple.
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