u/Perfect-Honey-542

I know yall are being nice but it’s so dangerous…. If you’re on reserve and you stop in the middle of the lane even though there’s space in front before you get to the car ahead of you. You’re essentially telling that person it’s safe to go. The cars in the other lane, the cars trying to merge to turn right, only see you stopped in the middle of the road. I almost hit someone because I was merging to turn right and this guy stopped for them in the middle of the god damn lane….

On 3rd street I’ve seen people stop in the middle of the road to let someone drive across to the other side!!! You add pressure to the person trying to cross and obstruct traffic. You don’t know if the people in the other lanes will follow your “kindness”. It’s reckless please stop….

My boyfriend attempted his 4th 100-miler this weekend, and I found myself in a position that felt impossible. I’m not an ultrarunner, so I know there’s a lot of suffering that’s considered “normal.” But he came into the first aid station with blue lips, dizziness, confusion, lethargy, and later progressed to repeated vomiting, shivering, and couldn’t keep any food down. A race medic independently noticed his blue lips and wanted him to warm up before continuing.

His pacer, who is an experienced ultra runner, felt this was a normal low and encouraged him to keep going. I wasn’t trying to convince him to quit I just wanted a medic to evaluate him before continuing because I couldn’t ignore what I was seeing.
Being caught between encouraging someone you love to chase a goal and worrying that you’re watching them become medically unsafe was honestly unbearable.

For those with more experience: where do you draw that line? What symptoms make you stop thinking “this is just ultrarunning” and start thinking “this needs medical evaluation?” I genuinely want to learn how experienced runners and crew make that judgment.

My boyfriend never admits to pain. He never wants to worry anyone ever, he’s the strongest man I know. So I was extremely proud of him when he told me something was wrong. Everyone was telling him he’d be ok because “they’ve pushed through it before”. But my boyfriend’s baseline is different.

I’m afraid my empathic and nurturing reaction held him back from finishing. I never told him he couldn’t do it. I told him to trust himself and the medics. He did exactly that and I couldn’t be more proud. I can’t help but feel guilt and worry that I have a part in his post DNF grief. I wanna know the best way I can be there for him. Thank you for reading 🤍

I’m from the PNW and it’s rare for people to eat a hot dog with anything besides ketchup. When we cook dogs by the campfire we only get ketchup and buns. I’m 23f and I love gourmet hot dog’s. But I don’t mind ketchup up on em either since that’s the norm here. I’m wondering if it ruins it/drowns out the actual dog seasoning.

Good luck finding a road to get out of the Johnston street neighborhood. Absolutely no detours. People are just driving around the closed road signs lol

Disclaimer: if any YouTuber/Podcaster wants to share my story you’re more than welcome.

I’m gonna start this post with a personal anecdote. The only difference between Celeste and I is that my groomer didn’t kill me.

I met a guy on call of duty when I was 12, I thought I was infatuated with him. He told me he was 17. An aspiring photographer. After a year of talking he flew from Ohio to Washington (where I grew up), to finally see me in person. He would boast about the inspiration I brought to his photography, encapsulating me as his muse. To a little girl who grew up watching princess movies, we’re conditioned that our existence only matters if a man allows it.

“I just landed, made sure to rent a car with lots of room in the backseat;). What’s your address? I’m kinda nervous. You promise your parents don’t know??”

“Yes I promise!”

I climbed out my window, told my mom I was staying at a friend’s house. Meanwhile, he bought a hotel room. He did what he did to me, over and over.

Mom- “hey sweetie, how are you and Sarah? When are you coming home? I made dinner”

Me- “can I stay with Sarah for a week please? Her mom said she can take us to silver wood!!”

Mom- “sure thing sweet pea! School is starting soon so I don’t see a problem, That sounds like a lot of fun! Do you need money? What’s her mom’s number so I can text her?”

Me- “yes, thank you mom! Her mom’s name is Stephany, here’s her number”

*sends his number*

Just like that.
He has control, he decided the narrative.

My mom knew about my so called “middle school love interest” she didn’t know who he was, where he lived, nothing. But she trusted me, she trusted that her daughter would tell her everything. She knew his name, his passions, anything I could get away with telling her without exposing the abhorrent reality. She was excited to see I made a friend who invited me on fun adventures.

We continued talking for 5 more years, he flew to Washington regularly, taking me on roadtrips, taking me shopping, taking me to different cheap motels, taking advantage of me. I continued getting better and better at lying and deception. He continued getting better and better at making me feel like I couldn’t live without him.

He wasn’t 17, he was 39. Married, two kids.

Even my perception of reality wasn’t real.

Is it my mom’s fault for trusting me? For allowing me to expand my world on these “adventures”?

I don’t resent or blame my parents for what he did to me. It’s their first time living too, nobody gets a manual to navigate life.

For how were they to know, when he controlled the strings?

Disclaimer: if any YouTuber/Podcaster wants to share my story you’re more than welcome.

I’m gonna start this post with a personal anecdote. The only difference between Celeste and I is that my groomer didn’t kill me.

I met a guy on call of duty when I was 12, I thought I was infatuated with him. He told me he was 17. An aspiring photographer. After a year of talking he flew from Ohio to Washington (where I grew up), to finally see me in person. He would boast about the inspiration I brought to his photography, encapsulating me as his muse. To a little girl who grew up watching princess movies, we’re conditioned that our existence only matters if a man allows it.

“I just landed, made sure to rent a car with lots of room in the backseat;). What’s your address? I’m kinda nervous. You promise your parents don’t know??”

“Yes I promise!”

I climbed out my window, told my mom I was staying at a friend’s house. Meanwhile, he bought a hotel room. He did what he did to me, over and over.

Mom- “hey sweetie, how are you and Sarah? When are you coming home? I made dinner”

Me- “can I stay with Sarah for a week please? Her mom said she can take us to silver wood!!”

Mom- “sure thing sweet pea! School is starting soon so I don’t see a problem, That sounds like a lot of fun! Do you need money? What’s her mom’s number so I can text her?”

Me- “yes, thank you mom! Her mom’s name is Stephany, here’s her number”

*sends his number*

Just like that.
He has control, he decided the narrative.

My mom knew about my so called “middle school love interest” she didn’t know who he was, where he lived, nothing. But she trusted me, she trusted that her daughter would tell her everything. She knew his name, his passions, anything I could get away with telling her without exposing the abhorrent reality. She was excited to see I made a friend who invited me on fun adventures.

We continued talking for 5 more years, he flew to Washington regularly, taking me on roadtrips, taking me shopping, taking me to different cheap motels, taking advantage of me. I continued getting better and better at lying and deception. He continued getting better and better at making me feel like I couldn’t live without him.

He wasn’t 17, he was 39. Married, two kids.

Even my perception of reality wasn’t real.

Is it my mom’s fault for trusting me? For allowing me to expand my world on these “adventures”?

I don’t resent or blame my parents for what he did to me. It’s their first time living too, nobody gets a manual to navigate life.

For how were they to know, when he controlled the strings?

EDIT: more context to my story, I was a sheltered lonely kid when I was groomed, my mom was battling stage 3 cancer. As a mother, she couldn’t take me on trips, take me to summer camps. She was sick and that left her and I vulnerable. Please be kind in the comments. Predatory people prey on vulnerable people.