Living the charmed life

Today's Miles: 3 walking. 0.25 running (see below). Plus 120 lunges and 60 push-ups.

Sunday was a VERY long day of driving from TN to PA. Over 10 hours. 577 miles. With someone I just met. Who liked to talk. A. lot. I hit the sack at 12:30 a.m. Monday morning and was dead out at 12:31 a.m.

On Monday morning, I woke up early to hit the gym & make up for the lack of physical activity on Sunday.
I decided to hit the treadmill.....walk a bunch (trying to make sure I get my 10K steps a day) and run a bit after I talk to Mark on the phone. 7 a.m. = walking. Waiting on Mark to call. 7:30 a.m. = Mark finally calls. After talking to him for nearly half an hour I decide to start running. I crank up the treadmill and run for about 2 minutes. All of a sudden...........SCCCRRREEEEEEEECHH. Except, it actually stopped in less time than it took to type out screech. Most treadmills slow to a stop. This one stopped so fast I was nearly catapulted off of it.

Hmmm. That was weird. Why'd this thing stop? Maybe I hit the emergency stop button?

Let's try this again. Crank up the speed. Get into a good run. Pass the 2 minute mark...Okay, I'm good. 

SSSSCCCCRREEEECCHHH.  Seriously? What's up with this thing? 

One last try. Crank up the speed. Run for about 47 seconds.

SCCREEEECH.   What the....
 
SLAM. BAM.    Damn it that hurt!

That's why I only ran 0.25 miles. The treadmill was possessed. It was not the only demon I encountered today.....

This afternoon I was at a farm helping with an installation that involved placing somewhat sensitive electronic equipment in a barn full of curious cows. We had to run wires to hook up the equipment and mount antennas and all kinds of fun electronic guru stuff. What my computer specialist technician was not prepared for was the curiosity level of cows. Most just watched and eyed us with suspicion while they went about their business of eating. Some would come and sniff us or our equipment. But there was this one....the ButtLicker. She was ALL up in our business. Checking out absolutely EVERYTHING we did. And every time you turned your back on her...yep....right on the ass. She molested me at least a dozen times. And when you shooed her away, she'd just go to the next person. Then get shooed, and eventually come back to you. The owner's son came through once when she was fondling me as I was bent over working on something with one hand and smacking her in the head (in vain) with the other. He started laughing and said "Yeah, she can be a pain sometimes. But watch her because I think she's coming into heat." (For those non-aggies, "in heat" means she's "in the mood.") Great. Now I've got a horny cow molesting me that will likely try to mount me at some point.

ButtLicker became part of our installation crew. When all of the other cows lost interest, had eaten their lunch and were settled in bed for a bout of cud chewing....ButtLicker continued to woo each of us to see if we'd respond positively to her advances. After some time, she realized we were on to her game and she lost interest in us, but not what we were doing. Someone (I'll call her M), left a 75 ft roll of wire that was connected to two of these somewhat sensitive electronic boxes and half-way mounted to a post, casually tossed over a gate.

Here's the thing about curious cows. If it will fit in their mouth, they'll eat it. If it's something they think they can play with, they will. If they can destroy it, you shouldn't have put it in the barn in the first place.

I turn around and see ButtLicker with her head through a loop in the wire. Oh...No.

Before I could walk the 25 steps to get to her, she somehow got herself all tangled up. Ever have your dog on a leash and they get the leash wrapped around their head and legs, then sit down and look at you like "Help?"

Cows don't do that. And cows weigh 1200 lbs.

ButtLicker started to panic. Making it worse. Then she decided she wanted out of there. So I stepped in front of her to keep her from bolting and someone (I'll call him B) decided to walk up behind her to box her in..... Which suddenly turned this panicked cow into a circus performer. She managed to spin a 360 on one hoof, and I swear she ended her spinning with "TADA!"  This maneuver also revved up her spunkiness - which resulted in her bucking around a bit like she was wanting us to play with her. Now we only have about 3 foot left of wire...and remember those somewhat sensitive electronic boxes? Let's just say I'm glad we had extra. They don't respond well to being catapulted across a barn.

To keep ButtLicker still long enough to unwrap her, I volunteered M to stand at her head and be molested while me and the farmer's son untangled the beast.


As if that weren't enough for the day....
At the end of this very long day.... I had to Pee. Not one of those, I'll go up to the bathroom shortly or I'm a little uncomfortable. It was barely-make-it-to-the-toilet-and-get-your-pants-down-before-the-dam-breaks kind of pee. Somehow, I make it to the....uh....bathroom.

The bathroom was a permanently mounted port-a-potty. Luckily, it was the cleanest port-a-potty I've EVER seen in my life!

So I go running into the port-a-potty and get my pants down just in time. Ahhhhh. Niagara Falls is released!

Suddenly, my leg is wet. What the??? OH HOLY CRAP THE LID'S DOWN!! I'M PEEING ON THE LID!! (As I involuntarily start to stand a bit out of shock.) At this point, I can't stop peeing. SHIT! SHIT! I CAN'T STOP PEEING! Pee is running off the lid onto the back of my pants and undies, and I'm peeing on my own leg.

Just another normal day...

Gotta run....

Three pounds of guilt

Total Miles: Not sure...check the Fitbit stat in the morning.

Do you ever feel trapped? Feel that need to just run away?

I've been in a bit of a funk of late. Maybe a tad depressed? I've not really had a lot of energy, not cared a lot about writing my blog (sorry peeps) or much of anything important (sorry Dear Husband), work is overwhelming, house planning is overwhelming. There are days I just want to eat a HUGE carton bowl of ice cream and lay on the couch and watch TV all day.

Oh wait.... I think I did that for a few days. In case you missed the last episode, I had the mother of all a very bad head cold that had me wiped out for 2 weeks. One week of on-the-road suffering. One week of on-the-couch suffering and trying not to go Wicked-Witch-of-the-West-on-steroids-with-PMS-Postal on my husband. No worries. He survived. Barely. With a few bruises maybe.

So, what's up with me? I'm normally pretty damn cheerful (even when I'm bitching about something). But I've been such a grouch of late.

Finding balance in life is tough. We all have our thing. Some are overwhelmed parents with kids running all over the country to every after school activity imaginable. Some are overworked professionals who wouldn't know what to do with all of the extra time if they only worked a 40 hour work week. Some are struggling to make ends meet. Some are families in the middle of a major life change - moving, divorcing, getting married and blending families, building a house, retiring. We could sit and play the game of "who's got it worse," but no one really wins at that game. You just want to drink more.

It's hard to sit back and see all of the wonder in your life when you're overwhelmed and feeling trapped. I mean really - what's my problem? I've got an incredible husband who would and has done everything in the world for my happiness; a great family that is always there when you need them, and not when you don't; a great job; a roof over my head; too much food in my stomach; what's the deal? Why can't I see the blessings in all of that? Not sure why...I just didn't.

So, what do you do about it? What can you do about it?

First....get off your ass.

Next....do something that requires just a bit of physical exertion. Go for a walk. Go for a jog. Do some yoga stretches. Do some push-ups. I don't care what it is. DO SOMETHING!

Repeat daily.

Seriously. It may be that simple. Endorphins from exercise are the most powerful drug on the planet. Don't get me wrong, you might need professional help and medication - and that's okay. But you may just be in a self-inflicted funk. I'm talking about more than just the "woe is me" feeling that goes away after a day of self pity. This one lasts for a bit.

Exercise truly has a magical way of changing your outlook.

For example:

The last run I went on was at the beach in St. Petersburg, FL while at a conference. That was January 25. When we got back from there, I was tired as heck. I'd worked for 2 straight weeks without a day off (yes, being at a conference at the beach is work when your presentation to an international group isn't until the last day of the conference = STRESS!!), and I was totally stressing, and I had been working out nearly every day for weeks. So I decided to take the rest of the week off from exercising. My mind and my body needed a few days.

Then somehow with my crazy ass schedule, I wound up working super long days, then another weekend and then got sick.  So...three weeks gone in a flash... with no exercising.

By the fourth week, I was miserable. I really didn't give a shit about much of anything. My job suffered, my attitude suffered, and mostly my husband suffered. I had the intent of working out some that week, but my schedule had me working back to back 16 hr days for half of the week....more tired....more moodiness....more this-chocolate-bar-will-make-me-feel-better-even-if-only-for-a-minute episodes....which led to more self doubt, out of control feelings, self-loathing, body image issues. Seriously, I felt like I looked like a whale. My pants were too tight. I was ashamed at what I had become (in 4 weeks). Soft. Weak. Emotional.

I avoided the scale at all costs. I walked by it, and it just KNEW. I could see it just shaking it's head at me...saying "But you worked so hard for what? Nothing? You're such a failure! Go eat another candy bar then come see me you fatass." (Yes, I have a Nazi scale.)

This past Sunday I finally had a moment of mental clarity or a break through or a slap up the back of the head (Thanks Baby!) or whatever you want to call it. I needed to get over it. I needed to get up and get off my ass and get over it. So what if I'm starting over. So what if I fell off the wagon. So WHAT?

So...Monday morning, I very shamefully and very slowly with only one eye partly opened hopped on that scale...and guess what. 3 pounds. I only gained three pounds. For a month of nothing, over-eating and steroids....three pounds. I was so expecting like 10 or something. It felt like 10. It felt like 50 pounds of more than just body weight, there was some guilt-pounds in there too I'm sure of it. Guilt for letting Mark down. Guilt for not doing good enough at work. Guilt for not doing enough for me.

But those 3 pounds did a lot of damage in 4 weeks. And it has out-stayed its welcome.

I'm back on the wagon, of sorts. I pulled out the FitBit and started walking. Time to get back to my 10,000 steps a day - plantar fasciitis be damned. I'm jogging a bit, trying not to really over do it. I'm strength training a bit. I'm counting calories again. And you know what. I feel so much better.

Just getting off the couch and moving has made me feel so much better. I feel IN CONTROL. I can now see that in a few weeks I'll be running again. I'll pick out a spring race and start training. My 3 pounds will leave and I wish it would take that stubborn paunch of backfat with it. And life will go on. I'll get back my cheeriness. Mark and I will find our happy place again.

When I'm in control of myself, the rest of my world is orderly. When I'm out of control - my life reflects it, in every way. If I don't put myself first, I'm no good to others.

So what are you waiting for? Get off your ass and do something!

Gotta run...to bed. It's late!

PS - We're going to the bank tomorrow to see about a home loan. But my plan is to have a bit of a walk or jog early in the morning to combat the overwhelming "I think I'm going be sick" feeling that is building up. The irony is Mark is cool as a cucumber about this - he's been working out!!!

The alien in my head

Today's Miles: I haven't run in over 2 weeks. :(


I also haven't blogged recently. I haven't felt the inspiration. Not running does not get my writing-juices flowing so you have been missing out.

Sorry for that.

But Here Ya' Go. Though by the end you may never read my nasty blog again....

That's my CowHerdingFriendRachael.

And. That. Ain't. Mud.

Ya see....that's the thing about us girls that leave & breathe & occasionally swallow cow manure. There's not a whole lot that's going to gross us out. (I would've posted pictures of me in that kind of nastiness, but I'm too lazy to scan pictures tonight. Maybe another time. Thanks for modeling Rachael!)

Well, there are these two little things that gross me out:
1 - Vomit (I'm a sympathetic puker - even for myself)
2 - SnotRockets

So let me tell you about this week. Sunday, I drove 9 hours to PA. Got all cozy in Mi Casa Holiday Inn Express for the night. Woke up at 12am FREEZING cold. I'm talking - shaking the bed so hard the people next door thought I was throwing down for the long haul - kind of shivering! Even with the thermostat cranked above 80F, I found NO relief. An entire night of chills, freezing cold, feverish hell.

Monday morning. I'm still feverish. Throat is afire. But I manage to shower and go downstairs for bananas and waffles. After 4 bites, I realized what a big mistake this was. Still feverish, weak, dizzy, I manage to get back up to my 3rd floor room and bust through the door. I had a split second to make this decision.....

Should I:

1) throw up in the toilet - where Who-Know's-What has been sitting there doing God-Know's-What and Who Knows if it was ever cleaned? Or
2) throw up in the shower - thinking I'm going to have to take another shower in here and banana chunks won't fit down that drain cover and if I have to keep looking at it, I'll throw up some more.

The decision:  the toilet. I've never hovered so well while vomiting, but I managed. Afterward, I knew I had made the right decision because the shower would NOT have handled that well. I'll skip the part about the toilet getting stopped up and not flushing completely and I simply closed the lid, went about my day and checked out.

I spent the next hour with my feverish face plastered on the cool tile floor of the bathroom wondering if I could get athlete's foot on my face.

Then magically - I'm good. Time to go to work. Quick shower (told ya') and off we go. I don't feel great, but I'll manage.

Monday and Tuesday degraded significantly. More fevers. More painful throats. My sinuses are getting chocked full & pressurized. Thankfully no more vomiting. But by Tuesday night, I was searching for a clinic. No luck. (I seriously do not know how people in rural America survive with the closest doctor being an hour away.) So, Wednesday morning, I found myself in the pharmacy stocking up on Advil (to reduce the swelling in my nasal passages), Tylenol (to reduce my fever), Musinex (to break up this congestion) and a sinus irrigation system.

Thanks to my cousin Aubrey Maples Saus and my good friend Jason Webb (yes, you are named because this is SO your fault!), I was convinced I needed a Neil Med Sinus Rinse mostly because you don't have to be graceful like with a Neti pot, and you add a little pressure to it. (At this point, I needed a firehose.)

I was NOT properly prepared for what was about to take place. Which is silly, because it all makes perfect sense now.

By Wednesday night my head was so full of snot, I couldn't hold it up straight. My face was so puffy, I couldn't hardly see out of my right eye and my head HURT. I knew I smelled like a cow so I thought, "Well, why not shower and do a sinus rinse while you're in there. Two for one!"

Remember the SnotRocket comment from earlier. I don't know why they gross me out. But they do. Buggers don't. Blowing your nose in a tissue don't (unless you do it at the dinner table in which I will punch you in the face). You are only allowed SnotRockets while out on a long run & you're less than 1/2 way home and you forgot your snot rag. Otherwise, wipe it on your sleeve or even your arm! But just blowing out a SnotRocket on the ground makes me gag! And if you do that throat clearing, pulling snot out of the back of your throat, and spitting it out thing.....BLLLEEEEEAAAAGGGGHHH! Induce....vomiting.....

So, imagine:

Jabba the Hut eating The Blob, then pooping it out, and eating it again, and pooping it out again.

Oh, what? That wasn't enough visual for you? Here you go....

This...

Plus This.....

Equals.....

Don't worry, I'll spare you a picture of that.....


This is what I learned from a sinus rinse:

1) When your snot hole is plugged full and you use a sinus irrigation system that has some pressure to it - you can either blow out your ear drum or shoot snot across a bathtub with impressive force or both.

2) Do not use an irrigation system in a shower with a central drain. The first rinse, I was climbing the walls like drunken Spider Man (because my balance is so off from popping my ear, that I nearly fall over) trying not to step on JabbaBlob's Poop. The second rinse, I was circling the drain on the opposite side of JabbaBlob's Poop like we were doing some weird dance. Around. And Around. And Around.

3) Do NOT sneeze just after rinsing unless you have a towel to catch it in. Otherwise, you might blow it all over the side of the bathtub. Priority Club is SO going to revoke my Platinum membership after this week.

4) Did you know that your snot hole can hold about 200 ml of JabbaBlob's Poop. And it can replenish in less than 12 hours?

Repeat the above mentioned scenarios for 3 more days. But with a little more grace (or as much as you can muster while using a snot irrigator).

By Friday night, I needed an exorcist.

All of this irrigating only proved to me that I had an alien growing in my head.

Since I wasn't going to make it back in time to see my doctor, I found a Take Care Clinic in Knoxville this morning.

The wonderfully sweet RN informed me that I had a serious case of a sinus infection (ah....duh). And that she was going to put me on an antibiotic (YAY!) and in a very sweet voice, "A steroid that will give you Wicked Witch of the West PMS."

Here's hoping the antibiotic kicks in before the steroid!

Gotta Run...

Deep-fried diabetes

Today's Miles: 1.5 miles on the steady tready.

Do you have a life altering disease?

No? Good for you!

Oh wait, what was that? Oh, yes, you do? I'm sorry. But why the hell didn't you share it with the world? It's OUR business to know YOUR health so that WE can criticize YOUR choices!

I didn't tell ANYONE about my diabetes for nearly one year after my diagnosis. NO ONE. Not family. Not friends. Not the random guy I past on the street. NO ONE. Why not? Maybe it was because it was simply no one's F***ing business??? Or maybe it was just because the random guy on the street could care less.

But seriously - the reason I didn't tell anyone is because I knew that "the telling" of the disease would be followed with "the questions" about the disease. And I didn't have the answers. I had to figure it out on my terms. I had to figure out how to continue to live my life, be happy, enjoy the little things, and still eat.

Oh, that's the shitter about having type 2 diabetes.....you just can't stop eating!? You can't just eliminate sugar and be cured! Each individual with the disease has tolerance levels, triggers, & hands-off food. Each individual has to figure these things out on their terms. Having some third party (doctor, nutritionist, family member, nosy neighbor that knows all) tell you all about what you CAN'T eat does not help.

Oh, and guess what.....it's not just obesity that causes type 2 diabetes. I have obese friends that do no have diabetes....but I do! Does it put you at a higher risk factor? Yep. But your genetics have a lot to do with it. Your age has a lot to do with it. Other diseases and medications that you take also can trigger type 2 diabetes. Don't you DARE hear "so-and-so" has diabetes....and assume....Well, she must be a fat-ass. 

Call me a fat-ass and see what happens. I guarantee I'm fit enough to make you regret that statement. I've run 2 half-marathons. I've run several 5K's and 10K's. Until this latest foot injury, I ran 4 times a week for 2-6 miles a run. I'm still running 3 times a week at low mileage, but also lifting weights and strength training. My bad cholesterol is low. My good cholesterol is high. My blood pressure is on the low side of normal. My resting heart rate is 52. I'm only 10 lbs overweight according to my doctor. So....am I unhealthy? Am I an obese slob that can't walk away from a Krispy Kreme? Not hardly.


And guess what, most doctors are IGNORANT on type 2 diabetes. My doctor wanted to immediately put me on drugs and injections.....Uh....no thank you very much! I watched my Pappaw's blood sugar swing higher and lower than my nephew on the playground on a daily basis because of his medication. And I saw how that effected him....Not.Pretty. I wanted no part of that. So, against my doctor's advice, I told him to shove those drugs wherever he would like to experience the side-effects and let me figure this out on my terms. I mean, it wasn't like it was going to kill me within the next 6 months.

In fact, it took nearly a year to figure out I did not have full-blown type 2 diabetes. My doctors were SO on top of it. I have hyperinsulinemia with hypoglycemia. (Look it up if you want to get technical about it). The everyday reality is that if I eat something with super high levels of sugars/simple carbs (or a lot over a days time), my blood sugar will spike, then bottom out. It also means that I have to eat a regular intervals to keep from bottoming out as well. However, exercise is a HUGE advantage and allows me to eat those things that I probably shouldn't but living life without them is depressing....who wants to live without cake and ice cream???

It's a fun roller-coaster to live on everyday. Is it diabetes-like? Absolutely. Will it lead to full blown diabetes? Most likely. So far, despite my doctor's initial advice, I am able to control it (for the most part) with diet and exercise. I have my days where I realize....well, maybe I shouldn't have eaten that particular Chinese dish or maybe I shouldn't have eaten that ENTIRE dessert. But for the most part, I keep my sugar in check....without drugs. Not everyone is capable of doing this. And that's okay. Medication is not right for ME at THIS time. I know there will likely come a day where in order to live a fully & happy life, medication will be necessary. But not yet, not for me.

But back to the point of this blog....if you haven't heard, The Queen of Butter, Mrs. Paula Deen has type 2 diabetes...and she's known about it for 3 years!! GASP!!! She should be battered and deep-fried for lying to her fans!!

Seriously people. It's none of your flipping business if Paula's got type 2 diabetes or gonorrhea. Does she have a cooking show that involves deep frying, batter, butter and sugar....yep. Does she say SHE eats like this every day? Nope. And really - did you REALLY think she ate like that daily? She'd weigh 700 lbs!! Does she say YOU should eat like that every day? NO. Come on people. Get off your high horse and look in the mirror.

If you eat 'clean' every day of your life....well....good for you!! I personally like eating a piece of cake or pie or biscuits and gravy and breaded and fried chicken. But I also like salads, vinaigrettes, & fresh vegetables. I cook low-calorie meals. But I also cook high-calorie meals. I'm making lasagna for dinner tonight WITH garlic breadsticks! (GASP!!!) 

Guess I should be deep fried too for promoting high-calorie meals. You want to throw someone else in for fun? You should read my friend Rachael Burkhart's blog ("Milk Cans and Cake Pans" - can't get the link to work...but look it up...Hilarious!).....you'd think that chick was F.A.T. with all that stuff she cooks, stews, bakes and fries. But guess what - she might weigh a buck10 soaking wet (or wearing 15 layers of UA and Carhartt while feeding cows during the winter). She's fit. She's trim. Just because she makes 3 dozen cookies....doesn't mean she eats them all!! (At least not in one setting) Just because she makes pies and cakes that would make Paula Deen swoon doesn't mean she eats the whole damn thing!

Sorry for the rant. But trying to bring someone down because they didn't tell YOU about THEIR health problems.... well for me today, that's the definition of being an ass.

Gotta run...

How to win in a pissing contest when you only have two legs

Today's Miles - none. I'm a lazy honey badger today.

For those of you who don't know, I work in the field of agriculture. Am I a farmer? No. Do I advise farmers? Yes. Do I advise advisers of farmers? Yes.

One thing about the field of agriculture that is a guarantee - it is a man's world.

This reality is changing a bit, but for the most part, I am surrounded by men daily. Old men; young men; intelligent men; 4-quarters-shy-of-a-full-dollar men; Yankee men; Southern men; gentlemen; brute men; egotistical men; humble men; sexist men; open-minded men; conservative men; liberal men. I've been called Honey, Sweetie, Baby, Ma'am, Little Lady, Miss, Doll, Cutie, and my all-time favorite, That Girl. (Don't you just wish your Mom & Dad named you that when you were born?)

You name it,
I've seen it.
I've heard it.
I've lived it.

Every stare. Every whistle. Every check-out-my-ass-glance. Every "innocent hug". Every joke. Every snide remark. Every rude remark. Every sexist remark. Sexual harassment - yep...to an extent. Never been pressured for sex for my job - which is good...for him anyway. Herman Cain wouldn't have survived that limo ride with me. He'd be known as Herman Can't-No-More.

Many of my lady-friends can relate as they may work in other men-dominated fields....lawyers, sports, truck-drivers, etc.

So, I've spent most of my adult-working-life, standing on a farm or sitting in a meeting or presenting at a conference, surrounded by men. When I first started down this path, I rethought my decision because I realized that for the most part, my colleagues (and those I was trying to advise) were not quick to accept this high-spirited, well-versed, knowledgeable, opinionated woman. (Gasp!!! I know you're shocked. I was too.) But my daddy taught me well.

Suck it up. Accept what you can't change. Learn to work with what you've got. Grow some balls.

So - grow some balls I did.

I learned to read men. Who really is a bigot? Or who just thinks I really find their slime charming? Who do I need on my side for future use? Who is simply an obstacle in my way?

I learned to play men. I can turn on some Southern Charm so smooth it would make Paula Deen proud. I can channel Dolly Parton's wit and care-free (but make no mistake it's oh-so-calculated) attitude like nobody's business.

But the one thing I could never do....join in a pissing contest. I'm one leg shy of having the right equipment for that game. (Ladies - you know what I'm talking about. Sitting around watching guys trying to 'one-up' each other. Who's got the biggest schlong?)

Mostly, I just sit there and want to roll my eyes back in my head far enough that it will cause me to pass out. Or, I pretend I'm sitting in front of a bunch of 4-year old boys....

Oh yeah! Well I can do this or that!

Oh Yeah!! I can do this, like that and it's better than yours!

OH YEAH!! Well, I bet you can't do THIS - but I can!!

That, at least, entertains me to a point. I have often wanted to slam my hand down on the table, or up the back side of their heads, and say - "OKAY boys! Let's put them away and actually try to solve this problem. We all have valid ideas and opinions. Let's play nice for a bit."

But I don't. Simply because I know that won't work. They'd just keep on going with their Who's-Got-The-Biggest-Schlong-Game and think - "That Girl doesn't have any idea what we're trying to accomplish here. She's just wasting valuable time."


So, what to do, what to do??? This has been the one situation that I couldn't figure out how to handle....until now.

Picture this ladies.....

You're at a conference table discussing the future of this fabulous company you work for. You've been doing some market research, and you have an innovative and guaranteed way to make your company millions. But the boys at the table are re-hashing old ideas. The ones they've used before. The tried-and-true-always-the-same-half-ass-results. But Joe's idea will make $$ and only cost $. Jack's will make $$$ and cost $. Etc., etc., etc. The way you break into the conversation with a guarantee you'll get their full attention....

Slowly, reach down into your overnight-sized-purse (this size is necessary), pull out and proudly display on the table....... a 12 inch long dildo.

Then, calmly (no giggling) and without hesitation (yes, you just produced a dildo) speak your mind.

Don't worry if they are not listening. They're not. They'll be staring at this on-demand, biggest schlong in the room. They'll also be nodding when you ask a question, in an automatic response that they aren't even aware of. Then, (within a couple of minutes before their shock-and-awe wears off) say - "Okay great, I'm glad we can agree.....we'll follow my plan! Thanks for your support, I'm sure that we'll make this the best project ever."

Then, calmly put your schlong back in it's carrying case.

Feel free to vary the use of the Super Schlong.

• Pick a bright pink one, or blue. 
• One with big balls attached. 
• Slap a Hello Kitty sticker on it like a tattoo. 
• Gold plate the sucker. 
• Hell, put a skirt and false eyelashes on it!
• Put a suction cup on the base so you can make it stand at attention for your entire speech. Or flick it one good time and watch it dance like a Hula girl. 
• Attach it to a stick so you can use it as a pointer. 
• Insert a laser pointer in the head so that when you squeeze it light shoots out the hole.
• If necessary, you may also use it as a slap stick. Nothing will get a guy's attention quicker than being smacked in the forehead with a dildo.

But be careful. The Super Schlong has great power. Do not over use it. Otherwise, they'll start to think you're a slut and getting off in the bathroom or under your desk. Use it sparingly and only when necessary.



Editorial note:
Some of my friends wonder where I come up with this stuff? Am I really that weird? Am I that twisted? Am I partially psychotic? Yep. Yep. And Possible. BUT...I've figured out at least that I'm not completely to blame. It's genetic. It's not my totally my fault!!! You can't fight your genes you know!! How do I know this? Because this blog was inspired by my hilarious cousin Aubrey's FB post:

I have decided to order a dildo and keep it in my purse for those occasions 

in life where other people who have penises start wagging them 

about in a power play. That way, I can whip mine out and 

waggle it around too. Once all the waggling is done - 

maybe we can get something accomplished.

That was the funniest damn thing I've ever read on Facebook.

BTW - I'm surrounded by women like this.....another FB post by a friend later that same day...the next funniest thing I've ever read on FB

JH: Embryo Mail cracks me up! :)
Comment: LE   What kind of music do you like? Country usually suffices but there's something about ACDC that gets sperm going:)
Comment: JH   I would argue that sperm like that too! My sperm always seemed to like Jason Aldean and Eli Young Band ;)



Gotta run....

The Great Migration

Today's Miles: 1.5 miles on the treadmill. 548 miles behind the wheel.

* today's post has absolutely nothing to do with running *

OH FOR PETE'S SAKE!!??


This was the tamest thing out of my mouth today. For all of my followers (a total of 6) that have been missing some wild, twisted, Kristy's on the road again, kind of stories - well today is YOUR day!

(I don't know who Pete is. But for his sake, I hope he's safe at home and did not have to travel over this holiday season.)


Ever watch the great migration of wildebeest in Africa on the Animal Planet or NatGeo? It's a fantastic scene of a bazillion wildebeest from all over the place coming together to travel a great distance...... together......(for what exactly? grass? water? breeding? I can't remember. It's not important.) What is important is that they stick TO...GETH...ER.  If you leave the herd....you will die. If you're the first to cross the river.....you will die. If you're the last to cross the river...you will die. If you stray, lolly-gag or get side-tracked.....you will die. I have experienced The Great Migration and lived to tell about it.

If you remember back to my comment about traveling in herds the day before Christmas Eve down Interstate 81....well, the herd returned north today.

I'm seriously beginning to think that all Northerners have Southern roots....which might explain my theory of Rednecks are everywhere! (FYI - someone actually found that blog post by searching for "Redneck & Boobs"....some people just dumbfound me.)  Back to my point....Why else did 10,000 people go South on I-81 the day before Christmas Eve to see Granny and 15,000 people went North on I-81 the day after New Year's? (They kidnapped some extras to take with them to make moonshine and pecan pie.)

Traveling home from PA on December 23 was bad enough...people were anxious and in a rush to get home to see long-lost relatives, eat 15 pounds of food, and open mountains of useless presents. Traveling the day after New Year's was worse. Today, I was with those same people....that have been at their parents' house (or their in-laws') for week; sleeping on a sofa bed or blow up mattress for a week; are bloated from eating leftover ham and turkey for a week; likely hung-over from drinking way too much on New Year's Eve  for a week; and with screaming kids that have already figured out they no longer have to be "good".

Instead of driving with 'herds' of Grannies on a Sunday drive in the middle of Bristol Motor Speedway, I found myself driving in a NASCAR race.

Normally, driving fast doesn't bother me. I'm always a bit above the speed limit anyway....only 5mph over....I swear! But my car will only register 120mph. So I'm a little leery of going over that. Besides, the company would likely frown upon it.

I realize that most Southerners learned to drive in their Daddy's pickup out in the pasture. But for Pete's sake people.....what are you thinking? These people shouldn't be given a license, much less allowed to drive on the interstate!!

I do not understand how 50 cars can be going 80mph in double-file, tight lines, like we're following the pace car.....waiting on Green Flag Racing to commence. Then suddenly come to a screeching halt....

"Oh look honey....there's a unicorn farting rainbows on the side of the interstate!" 

(Admit it! You know you would stop to look at that!)

"Nevermind, that wasn't a unicorn little Billy....it was just a deer-crossing road sign."

Back to Green Flag Racing!

And since we were in the NASCAR spirit today, I did get to spot some real rednecks.....the guy with the painted cowboy mural on the back of his Chevy Silverado...not just the back window. Oh no!!.....the tail gate had a matching scene!

Not to mention the guy driving the jacked-up Ford Ranger, with not one...but TWO sets of fog lights that were so bright he blinded everyone in their rearview and side mirrors. Jackhole! What's the purpose of that? Blind the deer so you can run them over? Oh....so that's how you got the coveted title of "Buckmaster" you are so proudly displaying on your back window.

And I cannot forget the coolest guy on the road....your 1992 low-slung Honda Prelude with the flame paint job and rear spoiler made you the envy of all of your teenage friends....IN 1992!! The car is 20 years old. You are at least 36. It's time to dismantle the bumblebee exhaust and grow some facial hair. And buy a big-boy car. Or truck. Go trade in that rear spoiler for a tonal light system to go in the back of your pickup truck. Chicks dig it. I promise!

The thing that really just burns my skin about Interstate NASCAR is drafting. Unless you are Dale Earnhardt Jr., there really is no need to be drafting me on I-81.

FOR THE RECORD.....I am in the left lane to PASS someone. It's called the PASSING lane for a reason. So, be rest assured, I will pass this semi.

HOWEVER......if you choose to ride my ass so closely that I can't see your headlights.....well.....guess what??? I may or may not get around this truck any faster. I'm betting on the latter.

Oh, and flashing your lights at me just makes me want to kick you in the sack! And it's a sure-fire way to get me to slow down.

OH NO YOU DIDN'T!!?? DID YOU REALLY JUST FLASH YOUR LIGHTS ON BRIGHT AND SWERVE TO MAKE SURE I SEE YOU IN MY SIDE MIRROR?????

Now I want to stretch your scrotum over your head, fashion a hoodie out of it and use your vas deferens as a drawstring!!! The chances of me actually passing this semi just went from "sometime this evening".... screeching past "Oh-Hell-No"....and straight to "Sometime the day after Mrs. Clause announces that Chubby-Hubby was arrested for running an Elvin Brothel"!!

 


My dad keeps bugging me to get my carry permit. Let me just say it would be a dangerous world if I were to legally carry a weapon. I know how to shoot a gun. And some days, I wouldn't be afraid to use it. The world could stand for a few less stupid people.

Oh - but for the record, I am at least smart enough to 1) know I should check the concealed weapon laws of OTHER states and 2) not attempt surrendering my loaded weapon to police officers in a state that has STRICT carry laws. Oh for Pete's sake? Why did she have to be from Tennessee??


Gotta run......it's been a LONG day....

Out with the Old, In with the New

HAPPY NEW YEAR'S!!!!

Did you have fun last night??

Did you drink too much??

Did you stay up and count in the New Year??

Were you a universal party go-er and welcome in the New Year for Japan, Australia, India, Spain, Iceland and the United States??

Do you have a hang-over??

If you want my answers....they can all be summed up in one word....Nope.

Okay, maybe the first one was an "Okay."

Mark and I, the ultimate party animals that we are, made a homemade pizza last night (which is always fabulous of course), watched an old episode of "The Closer" that's been on the DVR for 2 months, let the fire in the fireplace smoke up the house so much the smoke alarm went off, aired out the house, got headaches from the smoke, and went to bed by 9:30 p.m.

We    R.O.C.K.

Aren't you jealous?

I'm somewhat jealous of all my friends posting NYE pictures on Facebook looking like they are having one hell of a time. I'm just too lazy to stay up that late just to celebrate the passing of midnight. And I can't drink. Which means I also won't have a hangover...or a blood sugar episode....YAY!

But I hope all of my friends had a very safe and very Happy New Year celebration.

Have you made your resolution(s)? Want to lose weight? Take more time off? Go on an exotic vacation? Be a nicer person? Good luck with that. They say less than 10% of resolutions are actually kept. That's why I made mine in December. It's a December resolution, not a New Year resolution. So I'm already on the right track!

My goal for this year is to do more cross training. I started a few weeks ago with some light power yoga. I got gutsy yesterday and went for a 4 circuit weight lifting extravaganza. Needless to say that today, I can't sit down on the toilet without nearly passing out.

I find it hilarious that I can run 13.1 miles, but I can't do a "regular" push-up more than 4 times without losing form. I have to do the girly ones. And even then, when I get to 10, I have to take a break. I did a total of 40 yesterday. In addition to avoiding the toilet today, I can't lift my arms, but lucky for you, my fingers can still type!

Okay, since this one hasn't been my hilarious rant about something going wrong in life (don't worry, I'm saving up to bust it out on a windows store in West Knoxville), I feel the need to leave you with this little bit of info.

I HATE being cold. I HATE being chilled. So, guess how much I love having to go to states like Pennsylvania, New York, Wisconsin and Minnesota from December through April. If you're still wondering, let me make it clear for you...I HATE IT!!!

You with me now?

I've worn UnderArmour Base 2.0 in the past, with about 3 more layers (and a North Face tri-climate coat) on top of it. And still got cold.

So, I've invested in heavier and more base layers. I went with an UnderArmour Base 4.0 (anxiously awaiting it's arrival!) and thought I'd try a Patagonia base called Capilene. All the hunters up north swear by it (according to some random hunter's forum I found on the web). A friend recommended a discount outlet for outdoor gear (Moosejaw.com - I highly recommend it!). And I found some Capilene 3 on sale!! The only problem was that the top and the bottom in the size I wanted were only on sale (50%) if I got a teal blue color. Saving a total of $50 was more important than caring what color my long underwear was.

EXCEPT, the Capilene arrived yesterday. And I tried it on. And I laughed. And I'm still laughing. You want to laugh with me???

Remember the TellaTubbies? Was there a teal blue one? Well, pretend there was.....and put my head on it.

Sorry, no pics. Never.

From now on....I'm only ordering black base layers. On sale or not.

OH!! And just a little FYI for all of those that do not care....I ran a total of 549 miles last year!

Gotta run......

A Bloody Mary Christmas

Today's Miles: 1.5 miles....still on restriction and it sucks.

For many people, the Christmas holiday season is THE time of the year they look forward to most. As I age, I'm feeling the reverse of that.

Sad, huh?

I'm not a Scrooge. Or at least I hope I'm not. It's just that I don't get all giddy about Christmas anymore.

I honestly think it started several years back when my Grandmother died a couple of weeks before Christmas. She was the first person that I was really close to that I lost. That was a HORRIBLE Christmas. Then a couple of years ago, I had to put my beloved Tuff down the week before Christmas. Again....another HORRIBLE Christmas, for me at least.

So, for me, the week going into Christmas is actually kind of sad. Full of painful memories.

Couple that with insane people with pepper spray and guns trying to get that gift for their child, because nothing says "I love you" and "Jesus is the Reason for the Season" as much as "I had to fight off 30 other people for this only-one-left-in-the-store-piece-of-crap-toy-you'll-be-bored-with-in-3-weeks with pepper spray". But I did it all for you baby, because you're so special that you deserve to have a mom in jail for the holidays! 

This is why I do ALL of my Christmas shopping on-line. Seriously. I have NO desire to fight the crowds, literally. I hate shopping on any given day of the week, but avoid it like the plague from Thanksgiving until the New Year. I'd rather pay shipping costs that equal or exceed the cost of the gift. Not to mention I'm super lazy and love having stuff delivered to ME rather than me go and GET it. It also has a lot to do with having a job that keeps you on the road all.of.the.time. (I'm fairly certain that by next year, I will be paying Amazon to gift wrap all of those gifts too!)

Another reason I went into this holiday season wanting to yank out all of Santa's beard hair was because I actually had to travel the day before Christmas Eve.

I'm lucky enough to have our family close by and the furthest we travel is less than 50 miles to gluttony. There should be a national law about how far you are allowed to travel for the holidays. No one should have to go further than 100 miles. If your relatives live further than that...too bad. Skype them.

I, against my better judgement, spent the week prior to Christmas working in Pennsylvania, making up for the week I spent on the couch with the flu earlier in the month. This meant that I had to drive from the northern part of Virginia to Knoxville down Interstate 81 on Friday, December 23. I do not know how I survived. Actually, I do not know how all of the people around me survived. This is why I do not carry....I'm afraid I'll actually use a gun if I have it with me.

For unexplainable reasons, we traveled down the interstate in herds. There would be about 20-30 cars per herd....grouped together like a herd of wildebeest in alligator infested waters. You weren't allowed to leave your herd....or you'd die.

But no one wanted to actually be in a "herd." They did everything possible to break free from the herd - passing on the shoulder, riding bumpers trying to push people out of the way, drafting the car in front and trying to pass it on the turn, taking exit & entrance ramps at lightning speed to jump out ahead. But they just couldn't break free.

To give you a better picture of how insane and how dangerous this drive was.....Imagine having about 5 old ladies out on a Sunday drive.....in the middle of Bristol Motor Speedway during a NASCAR race.

At one point, I actually got off of the interstate and went SHOPPING because I couldn't handle the stress of driving anymore.

That's when I saw this....in Best Buy....

There really are no words. There are only questions.

Please note the print under Sparkle Ceramic Detailer......"Easily creates Edward's textured style in seconds"

Who the crap is buying this stuff?


Gotta Run....

A south of the border recipe

Today's Miles: nada....still under a 3 mile max rule from ole' Dr. Foot

I'm normally not a recipe blogger.

But. Oh. My. Shut. The. Front. Door. These were SO good, I just had to share. And Mark has a migraine so I'm being quiet & playing on the internet all evening.

If you're looking for a little Southwest, set your mouth on fire, low calorie meal....here you go!!

Southwestern Egg Rolls

1 boneless skinless chicken breast fillet
1 Tbsp EVOO
2 Tbsp minced red bell pepper (about 1/4 of medium pepper)
2 Tbsp minced green onion (about 3 onion ends)
1/3 C frozen corn
1/4 C canned black beans, rinsed & drained
2 Tbsp frozen spinach, thawed & drained (if you get the bag kind you don't have to thaw!)
2 Tbsp diced jalapeno peppers (if you don't want it HOT, reduce this to 1 Tbsp)
1/2 Tbsp fresh parsley
1/2 tspn cumin
1/2 tspn chili powder
1/4 tspn salt
dash cayenne pepper (omit if you don't like it HOT)
3/4 C shredded Monterey Jack cheese (or some kind of Mexican blend or cheddar...whatever)
7" tortillas (I got the high fiber "healthier" kind with about 70 cal per tortilla)

Avocado-ranch dipping sauce

1/4 C smashed, fresh avocado (about half of an avocado)
1/4 C mayonnaise (I used Light Hellmann's)
1/4 C sour cream (I used light or reduced fat)
1 Tbsp buttermilk (I used skim milk)
1 1/2 tspn white vinegar
1/8 tspn salt
1/8 tspn dried parsley
1/8 tspn onion powder
dash dried dill weed
dash garlic powder
dash pepper


So, before I go further - know this....I don't "measure" anything when cooking (I do weigh it for calorie calculations). I eyeball everything. A 1/4 C is about a small palm full for dry stuff, and 2 heaping kitchen tablespoons of creamy stuff. 1/3 cup is about a full palm full. I just threw in some chunks of frozen spinach out of the bag without thawing (Gasp!! The horror!!). I used a kitchen tablespoon to get out the canned peppers (so I may be over 2 Tbsp!). 1/8 tspn is a big pinch. A dash is a small pinch. 1/2 tsp is 3 big pinches.

Preheat oven to 350F

Grill your chicken breast with just a little salt & pepper for seasoning. Don't feel like firing up a grill for one chicken? Throw a few more on there to eat later this week, or double this recipe. Or be lazy & just use a George Foreman Grill like I did. I'm not going to tell you how long to cook it because every time some recipe tells me "4 minutes per side" or some crap like that....it always takes more or less. Cook your chicken until it is done. Use a meat thermometer if you have to...don't ask me the temperature. I just cook until done. 

While your chicken's grilling...chop up your pepper & onions. Measure (if you must) other ingredients except the cheese and throw them in a bowl.

Heat your 1 Tbsp of EVOO in a large skillet (about one swirl around your pan) on medium-high heat. Saute the red pepper & onion for a couple of minutes until tender.

(If your chicken still isn't done at this point - take your pepper/onion off of the heat & skip ahead to make the dipping sauce. Come back to this point when your chicken is cooked and cool enough to cut up.)

Dice cooked chicken into small cubes. Throw it in the skillet with the pepper & onion. Add all of that other stuff you put in a bowl. Cook & stir. Cook & stir. Make sure the spinach separates & incorporates throughout the dish. About 5-6 minutes. When heated through, take off of the stove and throw in the cheese. Mix it up so the cheese will be melted throughout.

Here's where I diverted from the original recipe. It had you heating the tortillas in the microwave with a moist cloth, making your tortillas and freezing the suckers overnight!!! As if I had read that far into the recipe to know I was suppose to start this shit the night before!!??? Besides, I'm hungry at this point! They also wanted me to heat 4-6 Cups of oil to deep fry these suckers in!! First of all, what am I going to do with 4-6 Cups of used oil when I get done making these? I don't just let oil sit around. And secondly, I don't want all of those added calories!! But by all means - if you want to freeze them and deep fry them tomorrow, knock yourself out!

Take a tortilla in your left hand. Just kidding. You can use your right hand. Use a regular spoon and put a couple of scoops in the tortilla. Fold one side over, tuck the ends in, and roll it closed. Lay it flap down on a baking sheet (which you may/may not want to spray with oil prior to doing this. I use non-stick Reynolds so I don't have sticking issues. Or clean up!!)

Make as many as you want. 2 is good for me for a meal. I just put the rest in the fridge and bake them as I need them.

Stick 'em in the oven for 5 minutes on each side.

So...if you haven't made the dipping sauce yet....get started.

Take your 1/2 of an avocado and mash it up with a fork. Then combine all the other stuff with it. The sauce is a little runny. I like it that way so that it gets all in my roll when I dip it. If you prefer a creamer sauce, then by all means, add some more sour cream. But you may have to tweak the spices a bit.


So for me with the lower calorie tortillas and using stuff like light mayo, light sour cream & skim milk, 2 rolls plus enough sauce to douse the flames off of my tongue was about 395 calories.


Not bad....

Enjoy!!

Gotta run....

You can eat fried chicken and still lose weight!

Today's Miles: 1 mile. 

I ran today!! I ran today!!!

I'm seriously way over excited about running a whole mile today! But it's been 36 days. 36 very long and very difficult days.

In my running absence, I've had A LOT of time to think about running. What I want to do differently, better. With such a long hiatus, I'm basically starting all over again. So, I might as well do it better this time (and maybe reduce injuries along the way).

One thing I completely lacked in my running/training programs was cross training. I'd bear an elliptical in a hotel gym if the treadmill was out, but ellipticals don't really count as cross training in my book. I'm talking about weight-bearing exercises. Whether that be lifting weights or doing power yoga.

I never really committed to it before. I always had a day of "Rest or Cross-train" on my calendar.

I always chose rest. 

I occasionally did some yoga, but that was rare. So, my new goal is to seriously include cross training in my running program. I know I'll benefit from it. I know it will make my run stronger and easier.

So why am I just now coming to this conclusion?

Who knows. But one thing I must do first is put together a workout 'portfolio' that can be done without weights (because the TSA looks at you suspiciously if you carry a 10 lb barbell in your carry-on) and anywhere (because I'm cheap and won't join a gym, and I need to be able to do it while traveling).

Another thing I've been doing again recently is calorie counting. I decided to do this again for a few reasons:

1) even though I was no longer training for a half marathon....my appetite didn't get the memo

2) my weight has been fairly stable for a year, and that's been okay, but I'd like to drop a few more pounds

3) writing down how many calories are in something and adding it up at the end of the day is accountability. It's also scary, liberating, shocking and depressing. (Did you know a medium curly fry at Arby's has 600 calories in it. So sad. Curly fries are my favorite kind of fry.)

Here's an example of my meals for the last two days.

Sunday 12-11-11
Trop 50 OJ                                               50
Bacon, onion, cheese omelet                     266
Homemade apple cider donut                    87
PB&J sandwich                                         340
fruit bar popsicle                                        25
4 Krystals w/ cheese                                  640
large french fry                                           380
Weight Watchers frozen latte bar                90
Homemade apple cider donut                     72

For a grand total of                                     1925


Monday 12-12-11
Oatmeal                                                   120
with almonds                                            24
with blueberries                                        17
TacoBell Fresco Steak Soft Taco             150
TacoBell cinnamon twists                          150
Homemade apple cider donut                    79
Homemade fried chicken                           185
macaroni & cheese                                    144
green beans                                               31

For a grand total of                                   900

Funny thing is this...half as many calories today than yesterday, and I'm no hungrier today than I was yesterday.

I try to shoot for a total day's caloric intake of about 1300-1400. I have found that is the range at which I lose weight. Less than about 1000 calories, and I'm starving (except for today for some reason). More than that, I get nothing. My guess is my maintenance level caloric intake (no gain, no loss) is somewhere around 1600-1700. This is where most people go wrong....they believe it's 2000 calories. For an adult, active man, maybe. For an adult, active woman, not likely (unless she is doing some serious exercise program).

But the thing is this....I'm not beating myself up over Sunday's numbers. I felt like making an omelet Sunday morning and Mark wanted bacon. And we've both been sick and cooped up in the house, and I was craving Krystal's last night (don't judge me...it happens). So what if it was 500 over what I had intended?

I even ate out fast food two days in a row! I was out with a bunch of appointments today and needed food on the run.

Guess what?

THAT'S LIFE!

However, today I made smarter choices. Tomorrow I will try as well. I've lost weight before by doing this, and I will again. I know it won't come off fast - and I don't want it too. That's not sustainable. That's not healthy.

Here's the thing people. It's not about depriving yourself. It's not about denying yourself. (I made fried chicken for Pete's sake! I didn't eat the whole chicken breast, but I didn't want the whole thing! I ate a boat load of green beans to fill me up first.)

It's about being ACCOUNTABLE to yourself. To tell yourself "Well, that didn't quite work out like I had thought. Maybe next time." versus "You failed. You'll never do it."

If you want a donut. Eat a donut (I highly recommend apple cider donuts). If you want fried chicken. Eat fried chicken.

But take responsibility for it.



Gotta run.....

Dr. Jack Daniels will see you now.

Today's miles: none...still...none.

So, last week I was at my wits end wanting to run, but not running despite my mental state because I was trying to let my foot heal. But Friday was the day...the "Do or Die Day"...the "Make it or Break it Day".

In other words, it was an appointment with my foot doctor....whom I was going to tell because he obviously has no idea what he's doing with utmost respect and authority, that I was going to start running again because Not running was Not helping my foot. His response was to shoot my foot up with Cortisone.

Well. That didn't turn out like I thought.

This is the second or third time I've had a Cortisone injection in my foot. The first two lasted for 3 months and 6 weeks. Somehow this makes my doctor optimistic? Me...not so much. I go back in 4 weeks for another injection. If that doesn't help....he suggests surgery....I suggest...another foot doctor.

But, he did give me the clearance to start running again.....1 mile, three times a week. Then if I didn't have pain, I could increase the next week to 1.5 miles, three times a week. But I could not exceed that until I saw him again in 4 weeks.

I'm all excited when I leave the doctor's office......'I GET TO RUN AGAIN, I GET TO RUN AGAIN!' I even started planning out my Monday to 'fit in' my 1 mile run and enjoy every minute of it.

Then I woke up on Sunday with a very sore throat. I thought it was from snoring heavy breathing while sleeping the night before. The 'run down' feeling came later. Sometime late Sunday night...the beast was unleashed.

Fever.
Chills.
Waking up sweating like a pig in line at a barbeque.
A headache that makes a migraine seem like a welcomed diversion.
A throat that feels like I swallowed a porcupine marinated in habanero sauce.
Body aches that could only come from my husband running over me repeatedly with a dump truck.

Death never looked so good on me.

My Monday run was cancelled. My trip to Kentucky was cancelled. The only thing I have accomplished other than this blog is hours of uninteresting entertainment on Facebook and Pinterest. Even Jon Stewart has lost his his appeal.

This morning, things were not looking better. Thinking that maybe this wasn't just going to 'run it's course,' I called the doctor, which of course required a visit and a swab for a Strep test.

So, it's not Strep. Thankfully.

Official diagnosis: The crud. It's going around.

Official prescription: Go home and take some ibuprofen every 5-6 hours. Eat lots of popsicles and take a snort of whiskey every 4-5 hours.

Seriously. My doctor just prescribed whiskey.

Gotta run...time for nap #86 since Sunday...

I want off this ride. NOW!

Today's miles: zero. zip. zilch. nada. none. nothing.

If someone asked me to describe me, I'd probably include the phrase "even-kiln." I don't typically get too excited. I don't like drama. I'm slow to anger. I'm not over-emotional.

If you've known me all of my life, you may be horse laughing right now. But, if you've been in contact with me for the last 3 years, you'd know I've changed...a lot. I've mellowed out. A LOT. I'm chilling. A LOT. I just don't let things get to me anymore.

And no....I've not taken up smoking pot. But I might.

What I did take up that has mellowed me out; has allowed me to take infuriating situations and put them in perspective; has allowed me to deal with sorrow and sadness without losing control...is running. Ever had that feeling - "I just want to run away!" I did. Literally. And it has been such a God-send.

There have been so many times where I've been frustrated, tired, angry, sad, depressed, and even over-joyed that a quick run, a hard run, a long-slow run put everything into perspective. Or at least it pulled the rawness out of the situation and allowed me to stand back and look at it with less emotion.

But right now, my release has been released. It's been 2 weeks of no running (except for that short ill-advised 2 miler..Shhhh!). I'm trying to let my foot heal.

A side trip.......If you do not have plantar fasciitis, get on your knees right now and start thanking the good Lord above. And if you do not have PF, then you can't begin to understand what it is....so let's try this....

1) In the morning, when you wake up, instead of putting your feet on the floor and walking to the bathroom....jump out of bed and land on a butcher knife, pointed straight up, into your heel. Then proceed to collapse on the floor and crawl to the bathroom.
2) After you sit at your desk or on the couch for about 2 hours, repeat the above steps.
3) After you walk a bit, the pain will subside....only to return as a gate-alerting chronic pain in your foot if you walk for too long.
4) From your heel all the way to your toes, there is a constant ache.

And in my friend JV's words...."I've got PF like a MF."

And just some more FYI:
5) You can NEVER go barefoot around the house. I've contemplated showering in my orthotic house shoes.
6) Throw away every pair of cute, sexy, high-heel shoes you've ever owned. You can not wear them. Even the not-so-sexy high heels won't work. Not even to church. I now wear my North Face hikers, Clark's slip-ons and running shoes everywhere....even to church. They go so well with a skirt, don't you think?

What can you do for it?

• sleep in a boot (check)
• wear custom orthotics (check)
• stretch, stretch, stretch, ice, ice, ice (check)
• physical therapy (check)
• stop running (check)

So, I'm at the end of the list. I'm not running, and it's not helping.

Back to the point of this story. So, I'm not running for what should be obvious reasons now. And what is only obvious to my poor, loving husband, the produce manager at Kroger's and a young lady at McDonald's on Broadway is that not running is wreaking total havoc on my emotional state.

I'm no longer even-kiln. My kiln has boiled over and exploded.

Last night was a fight with Mark, and I can't even begin to explain why.

This morning, I nearly cried talking to my chiro about the toll not running is taking on me.

I had a COMPLETE meltdown....I'm talking crying, snot blowing, 'I can't breathe'-type of meltdown... in Kroger's because they didn't have any butternut squash. And the produce manager tried to console me and tell me that you can basically use any squash as a substitute.....but exactly how do you make Butternut Squash Bisque without the KEY INGREDIENT??!!

Then there was the poor girl at McDonald's that forgot my Hot Mustard sauce. I asked for 3 things.
1) a 6-piece chicken McNugget
2) Hot Mustard Sauce
3) a large unsweet tea
The result of her amnesia was me flying into a rage over nugget sauce.

I've never been bi-polar and do not know anyone that is bi-polar, but I feel like my emotions are gaining frequent flyer miles traveling from the North pole to the South pole. This is the worst emotional roller coaster I've ever been on. I do not like roller coasters of any kind. Period.

And just be fore-warned.....please do not patronize me by simply saying..."Just find another exercise." You will not like the results. Just ask the girl in McDonald's.

7 days.

In 7 days, if I do not see improvement in my foot, I will run again. Why not? If not running is not helping, then at least if I'm running, my foot will be hurting for a reason.

And I might be able to keep myself out of jail and not get banned from any more stores in Knoxville.

Gotta run....

The things I think about.

Today's Miles: Shhhh... I ran 2. 

Don't tell Dr. Gipson. I've decided to run 2 days a week. This morning it was hard and glorious all at the same time!

What ever happened to Arsenio Hall? Remember him. He had that show back in the...was it early 90's? He totally cracked me up! Remember that segment "Things that make you go Hmmmm?". I guess if he were on TV today, it would be "Things that make you go Really?" or "Seriously?" or "WTH?" Wouldn't quite have the same ring to it.

But I randomly thought of Arsenio this morning.

I heard an advertisement on TV while getting ready.....FannieMae is supporting an event called "Hope for the Homeless."

If you didn't catch all of that.....

FANNIEMAE is sponsoring the following event....."HOPE FOR THE HOMELESS."

Please tell me that someone else finds that totally absurd.



The second time I thought of Aresnio today involved a casual conversation with one of my dealers while on a long ride to a customer's location. The discussion started with high school coaches teaching his son that "winning is everything and losing is for losers" type of attitude. His wrestling coach even told the kids that they needed to "Get off your momma's tit and go tell your mommas 'Go F yourself'. I told my momma that when I was your age and I'm better off for it. If you want to be like me, you better go tell your momma to 'F off'."

Are you sitting there with your mouth open?? Me too. My first thought was if I had told my momma to go F herself....I'm sure it would have been me that would've gotten F'ed and to this day my body would not have been found.

Then the discussion led into the negativity of most people in the world today. It's all about me. It's all about winning. If you don't agree 100% with me, you are wrong. Everything is presented as an emergency of epic proportions and blown out of proportion most of the time. (Which is why I don't watch the news but once a week.)

Then the discussion led into how can the world just chill out? What ever happened to World Peace and Love? Why can't people just be happier? Do they choose to be angry, sad, bitter, everybody's out to get me?

Then we figured it out. Want the world to be a better place? Do you really want world peace? Do you want everyone around you to be just a little bit happier all the time?

Maybe we should all start smoking pot. Or lace the water supply with pot. Instead of pot-brownies....How about pot-Aquafina?

Hmmmmmm???!!!

But my luck, half of the population would have a paranoid reaction to the pot and think everyone's out to get them.....

Crap!.....We're back where we started.

Got any suggestions?

Gotta run.....

A life of not running...

It's been over a week since my last run.

Granted...that last run was rather long. And I did kick some arse. But that was a week ago.

I promised my foot doctor that I'd take a week off from running after the race. So I did.

This is what I've learned from a week of not running.

1) Not running sucks!

It's one thing to skip a workout b/c I've been on the road for 8 hrs or working for 14 hrs or just feel run down and crappy. It's another thing to not run b/c you've been TOLD not to. I don't like to be TOLD to do or not do anything. Plus 'not running' makes me feel guilty and lazy. The first couple of days after the 1/2 marathon, I was o.k. with not running. I mean....geez....I just ran 13.1 miles at my-fastest-long-distance-pace-ever! So a few days of no-running were acceptable. But by Wednesday, I started feeling it. Lost. Hopeless. Depressed. Weird. Penned up. That feeling just festered.

Dr. Gipson made me promise to take a week off. I needed to let my foot heal a bit and then start seriously rehabing...find an alternative for awhile and some cross-training. I'm sure he'd be perfectly fine with me never running again...I, however, will not be.

2) Not running does NOT make my foot feel better.

So, this week of no-running was to let my foot heal? Isn't that what the oh-so-smart guy with the M.D. behind his name told me???  

THEN WHY THE HELL DOES MY FOOT HURT WORSE AFTER A WEEK OF NOT RUNNING THAN IT DID THE DAY AFTER I RAN 13.1 MILES AT MY-FASTEST-LONG-DISTANCE-PACE-EVER!!???

Okay, sorry for the loud-blog-voice. I just had to get that out. Shew...I feel a little better.

Seriously though!? I've had more foot pain, swelling, random muscle cramping, etc. since I stopped running. What's up with that crap?? When does the healing begin? Did I miss that bus?

3) Pumpkin cheesecake is either heaven in a box....or the devil in a box. I've not decided yet.


I spent most of last fall trying to perfect a pumpkin cheesecake recipe. Sadly, it never came.They were too cake-y, too dense, not enough pumpkin, not creamy enough, not light enough, etc.

However, I had the pleasure of dining at a hole-in-the-wall diner in Rural Retreat, VA last fall. And behold, they had pumpkin cheesecake for dessert....as if I could pass that up. After my mouth had a miniature orgasm and I slid off the booth into the floor in a daze, I mustard up enough strength to beg the waitress for the recipe. I told her my plight of trying to find a pumpkin cheesecake recipe that would give me that reaction! She leaned in like she was going to tell me her great-granny's secret recipe that shouldn't be shared outside of family under threat of disown-ment and dismemberment and ever so softly whispered...."Sam's Club."

If you are a cheesecake lover. If you are a lover of everything pumpkin. Then stop reading this blog, throw your computer down, grab your keys and get in your car.....don't stop to put on make-up or fix your hair, and go ahead and pee in your pants if you just can't hold it, and this is a one-time pass in which you are allowed to wear your pajamas in public....drive like a bat-outta-hell  to Sam's Club. If you are not a member, kidnap the person walking in the door in front of you (or just walk really close behind them and smile/nod at the greeter as you walk in Sam's with your new mom/grandma/dad/grandpa/aunt/cousin/uncle/brother/whatever). Knock people out of the way. Run over them if you have too! Apparently, they only sell these just before Thanksgiving (they did NOT have them last year AFTER Thanksgiving).

I only got two, because I have no self control and could not be held responsible for the 30 lbs I would gain on my backside.  

(Plus it was really my Mom that purchased them for me when she saw them on Friday and called me. (I've got the BEST mom in the world!!) I only ordered 2 because 10 sounded.... a little much?)

Mark & I devoured one in less than 3 days. The other is in the freezer. And I'm in Virginia. Dreaming about cheesecake.

So, this is what I have to look forward to without running.....feeling depressed & lost, with an incredibly painful foot, a large ass to match that pain and cheesecake stuck in my hair.

I miss running.

Gotta run....I wished.

And Now for the Rest of the Story...

Sorry for leaving everyone on pins & needles from that last post….I couldn’t leave out everything from Friday. I mean, Really?….who goes into a big race after an episode of traveling with the Griswold’s? Me. That’s who.

And before we begin.....go get yourself a snack and something to drink....

So, where I left off was arriving at the community center in an anxiety meltdown. It’s important to remember at this point that I’m in Murphy, NC. Think Mayberry. And only 100 people signed up for the 1/2 marathon.

Mark and I get out of the truck to incredibly loud 80’s rock music. Seriously. I'm talking "Loud enough to wake the dead" people….or at least the ENTIRE town of Murphy at 6:30 a.m. Nice.

Megan and I find each other before the race….as if that were a hard task, considering… It was incredible to see an old friend again. We chatted and got caught up a little before the race. We were both nervous. Me for obvious reasons, her for not having a consistent training program prior to this. We talked a bit about goal times. I was going for 2:50. I would be thrilled with 2:40. I really didn’t think my foot would stand for anything more than that.

Megan on the other hand has completed a couple of 1/2 marathons in less than 2:20 or something like that. I forget exactly how fast she said because I was horse laughing on the inside knowing I could never run that fast even without injuries!! Regardless of how fast/slow I went, I wanted Megan to do her best and not be slowed down by me. 

Megan looks warm. I look like I'm going for a swim?

At 7:15 everyone starts heading outside. We follow because we have no idea where the start line is…except across the road....somewhere. 

Did I mention it is still DARK! And it’s still incredibly FOGGY!!

We (about 75 of us) are standing at the start line trying not to freeze our butts off while the race director goes into a diatribe about inaugural race, sponsors, safety, sponsors, blah, blah, blah. Enough already. I’m doing some butt-kicks and high knees to get warm and stretch out some more. Blah, Blah. Bounce up and down a little…..

OH SHIT! What was that? What was that sudden sharp pain in my left foot? 

Stop bouncing. Assess. Don’t think about it….STOP thinking about it… 

BAM!! And we’re off.

Did I mention it’s DARK and FOGGY? Which made the first 2 miles scary because you couldn’t see your foot placement. I probably went a little slower than I’d hoped because I was afraid I’d twist an ankle, but I have no idea how fast I’m going because it’s DARK!!! About 1.5 miles in, Megan pulled out. I tried to keep her in sight for several more miles….which was hard because it was FOGGY!!

How foggy was it? It was so foggy that dew occasionally appeared on my eyelashes. So foggy that my outer shirt (thank goodness I went with two) got wet first, BEFORE I sweated in my undershirt. So foggy that you couldn’t see the end of the freaking hills….which probably wasn't a bad thing after all.

Let’s take a break and discuss those hills for a moment….

Here’s the elevation chart if you’re interested.

Had they posted this chart on their website, I would have NEVER signed up for this. This makes the Knoxville Hilly Half seem ridiculously easy. Let’s see, that’s about 10 significant hills. And it’s not just the UPHILLS that kill a runner, check out the downhills!! 

If you’re interested in grades, let me break that down for you….

UP:              2.4% for .2 miles

DOWN:       - 9% for .26 miles

UP:              9% for .16 miles

DOWN:       - 4.4% for .3 miles

UP:              3.2% for .54 miles

DOWN:      - 6.3% for .21 miles

UP:              3.1% for .66 miles

DOWN:      - 2.4% for .74 miles

UP:              4.4% for .41 miles

DOWN:      - 4.3% for .41 miles

UP:              5.8% for .23 miles

DOWN:      - 4% for .2 miles

UP:              3.4% for .48 miles

DOWN:      - 7.6% for .37 miles

UP:              6.2% for .27 miles

UP AGAIN: 4.9% for .13 miles

DOWN:       2.5% for .77 miles

UP:              6.8% for .15 miles

UP SOME MORE: 9.5% for .11 miles

DOWN:       5.1% for .27 miles

That didn’t include all of the inclines, but you get the point!

With each hill, I simply put my head down and kept running. I couldn't see the top through the fog anyway. I ran by feel mostly….which scared me because most times when I do this…I slow to a crawl. But I figured out early in this race that ‘hilly’ was the word for the day.

About Mile 5, I could no longer see Megan. I hoped she was having a stellar day (and secretly hoping she was cussing these hills as much as I was).

 

I’m so glad Mark was there to catch Megan’s finish as well as mine! She did fantastic! And she’s secretly cussing me right now for posting this picture I’m sure. But seeing she’s running a little cocked makes me feel a little better about how hard it was for me!

I was afraid to look at my watch and know my pace. I felt like I was going fairly slow. Like a typical "Long, Slow Run Speed", not "Race Speed". Having visual confirmation of that would make me feel like I was failing. 

So, I decided to run based on how I was feeling. I’ve never done this before. I’m a running-tech-junkie. I have to know how fast/slow I’m going and make a decision to speed up/slow down and if I’m not running as fast as I should, then I let myself down.

But today, I decided that was okay…given this course and my injury issues….I changed my goal….

Simply finish. That’s what I wanted today. Cross the finish line. Anything more than that is icing on the cake.

I picked out a lady in front of me wearing bright purple shorts running a good pace. I made the decision to keep up with her. Surely if she pulled out I’d see those shorts! I didn’t look at my watch again for a LONG time. I had no idea how fast or slow we were going, but I was going to keep up.

I caught up with her at a water station at 6 miles. I introduced myself and thanked her for pacing me. We ran together for 5 miles. We were the only two in sight. I’m so thankful for my new running mate Nicki from Cleveland, TN. She was a life saver. Literally!

This open road course (with moving traffic) went through the rural communities (small, narrow, winding roads) of Murphy, NC….If that’s not giving you a good enough picture of how rural of an area we were in….just. one. word….

Deliverance.

Seriously. We would run, sometimes up to 2 miles, without seeing ANYONE!! Maybe pass a house or two. But no cars, no race volunteers en route except at hydration stations and ONLY at intersections that require you to turn off the road you are currently traveling. I can't tell you how many times I wondered if we were on the right road. And did I mention it was FOGGY??!! It was like running through a horror movie at times.

At one point, a white truck passed us. Then, it went back the other way. Then, 4 minutes later, it passed us again and pulled off to the side of the road ahead of us at what looked to be an abandoned building. We both instantly got nervous. Nicki says “I’m so glad you are here because if I were by myself, I just might turn around and run the other way.” My response, “This does look a little bit like Deliverance country and this fog isn’t helping much.” We both laugh nervously and continue running…..a bit faster.

Nicki and I also learned that in rural communities, people do not believe in fencing or leashing their HUGE dogs. We met several along this course, and all I had to offer up were Jelly Beans….

....hmmm, or my new running mate?

Some were just friendly old dogs checking out the fresh meat new comers. But others, not so much. I even sent a state trooper back on the course to go check on these two young boys (11 years old…yes you read that right…11 YEARS OLD) running the race. 

After 10 miles, Nicki started fading a bit. I kept looking back to check on her and yell some encouraging words. I struggled with slowing up to let her catch me but thought….I’m feeling GREAT to be this far in. I can’t slow down now.

Let’s assess…my foot really isn’t hurting. Seriously. I’ve always felt it about 8 miles out. I’ve been crippled at 6 miles with it. But to feel….nothing? I typically think I could beat a turtle in a race, but at this point I’m thinking the turtle has crossed the finish line and has made it to Myrtle Beach. Oh well….just keep running this race like you have. I’ve been snacking on my Jelly Beans, drinking nothing but Gatorade at each of the hydration stations, walking through the hydration stations, but no other walking. I’m tackling these uphills and not letting them defeat me. I was using the downhills to pull some speed. So, I’m good. Win, lose or draw….I’m glad I’m here.

At this point, I’m also getting COLD. Until now, my two shirt strategy paid off. The outer shirt had kept the heavy-foggy-dew off of me. But at this point, I’ve sweated through both shirts. The dew on my eyelashes has turned to frost. I can’t feel my finger tips, but if I put my gloves back on they’ll get all sweaty again. (I cannot stand to have clammy hands trapped inside of gloves.) My hat is soaked and now my ears can feel the cold-sweat-covered-hat. 

At 12 miles, I was starting to feel it. My quads were burning thanks to those downhills, my hams were tight and tired. But that little voice inside of me kept saying “You’ve got this. Just finish it! Just 1 more mile to go.”

And one really bad hill according to some pre-race reports. Last hydration station and up the hill.

I’m thinking “Okay, this hill is bad, but no worse than the rest of the course. Sucks that it’s at the end. But what were those guys flipping about.” I even yelled back at Nicki “Come on Nicki! This is it! This isn’t so bad! We’ve got this conquered!” Then I realized how wrong I was. 

I saw it.

And. It. Saw. Me.

It laughed at me.

And I said, Holy Shit.

That’s the only hill I walked on this course. I could have just as easily taken a Mountain Climber stance and gotten up that hill in as much time. “Who designed this course!? Are they masochists? I hope they’re having a blast!” 

The only good thing about that hill….was the downhill!! I started flying!! At one point, I was going so fast I thought I’d trip or my quads would completely break. There were speed bumps on that hill!! So I slowed a bit coming down. Nothing like rolling across the finish line to make a statement!

At the bottom of the hill, I saw the sign ahead that said 13 miles. I looked at my watch….2:26….WHAT THE HELL??? NO WAY????  

Look again…2:26….HOLY MONKEYBALLS!!! COULD I ACTUALLY BREAK 2:30????

That’s when something divine kicked in. 

I say divine because I don’t know where it came from, but I started sprinting. SPRINTING!! At one point according to my Garmin, I was running a 6:26 pace!!! Until now, the only way I could run a 6:26 pace, even for a short distance, was if my ass were literally on fire! And after 13 miles?? I'm simply not capable of that!?

I never saw Mark. I heard Megan yelling something. I just kept running….rather Sprinting!! My foot was not liking this level of acceleration. That’s the first time it really reared its ugly head. I’m certain there were daggers driving into my quads at this point. My hamstrings and calves were tight. I knew if I could just make it around that corner….I’d be done!

SHIT!!

I forgot there’s about another 25 yards after the corner. My knees nearly buckled. But this little voice in my head said 

“RUN!! DAMN IT, RUN!!”

I realize now that my extra head band and snot rag make me look like I have a tail!

And there it is....official chip time...

2:28:06.0

That’s 45 minutes faster than my last 1/2 marathon! And it’s 22 minutes faster than my goal time!!!

I still can’t believe it!! Not in my wildest dreams!! Not on a course like that!!

Sorry Mark cut you off Megan!

Megan says she didn’t have the best half of her life….

Official Chip Time: 2:22:54.1

But you know, for someone that had a haphazard training schedule just after moving across country with two boys and getting a whole new life started….I think she did AWESOME!!! I never would have run a half without training like I did. I’m so impressed with her!! I’d love to see what she’d do with a training schedule….leave me in her dust I’m sure!!

Afterward some water, muffins and bananas...

We were treated to a full body, fully free, and incredibly cold…massage.

I was soaking wet with sweat! I even impressed Megan with my sweating skills! We were shivering. Poor Megan didn’t get a blanket! But it was worth every second. I’m certain the lack of significant pain in my foot is due to this young lady working on my left leg diligently!

 

That’s not a smile on my face.

Megan and I enjoyed a soak in the hotel hot tub (which I hope they put extra chlorine in after we left….Eeewwww). Then a quick shower. Then a wonderful lunch where we got to catch up.

Before I end…I must mention my wonderful husband who not only has put up with my training. He drove my tired butt to NC in the dark, along winding mountain roads. Got up before dawn and showed an incredible amount of support. Took pictures. Kept my jacket inside of his jacket to keep it warm. Put my shoes inside his jacket while I was getting a massage to keep them warm. Took pictures. Let me and Megan catch up and took us out to a wonderful lunch. Then, drove my tired butt home. I can never say “Thank You” enough for all that he does for me! I love you Mark!!  You are simply incredible!!

2:28:06.0

Wow! I still can’t believe it. I gave more than I ever thought was in me. No tears this time. Just smiles. And mentally jumping up and down like a school girl….but not literally. My. Legs. Are. Dead. And I love it!

Gotta run….just kidding…