May your feet never sweat…
May your feet never sweat,
your neighbor give you ne’re a treat.
When flowers bloom, I hope you’ll not sneeze,
and may you always have someone to squeeze!
(Apparently) An Irish blessing
Clearly I am not Irish (just like 98% of green beer guzzlers in pubs right now) but I’m married to Muffin. Who thinks he is. According to the grapevine (read: him) there used to be an “O” in front of his last name. Bit of a stretch, but I’ll let O’Muffin have this one because it’s fun to pretend…just like I pretend that Gerard Butler is Irish. And madly in love with me.
Before I launch into the first, and probably not the last, edition of “Random thinking and inklings Thursday!”, a little running recap. I had a good week, despite the nasty side effects of daylight savings, which I’ve been milking for the past 4 days. This morning I even eeked out 21km BEFORE WORK!! Whaa, whaaat? In fact, the run felt good. Suspiciously good for a half-marathon distance at 5:30am. The conditions were great, except for the sporadic sneaky layer of glistening ice (think Edward Cullen…sparkly yet lethal) and the temperature downright balmy. I actually felt strong as “Soul clap!” brought me in through the last kilometre. So this leads me to believe one of two things. 1) I dreamt it or 2) I need to start pushing a little harder. I’ve been taking my long runs pretty easy (this morning was a 5:28 pace) so I think I need to step up my game a bit. I’m practically Kenyan, I know! Actually that is a great segue into my random ramblings! Except not really, but I can’t think of anything else.
Why I needed to run 21km at 5:30am = Because I have a super-wicked weekend planned and don’t need the guilt and shame of skipping runs looming over my festivities. PS – sneak peek into the weekend includes dancing shoes, drinking hat, SATURFUNDAY!, and whatever else the opposite of running is.
Why the guilt? Because I crunched some numbers. (Athletic and brainy and an amazing singer?! Why yes, “Triple Threat” is on my resume.) Turns out that week 26 (halfway through the year for you non-mathematicians) isn’t that far away. I’d lova love to hit 1000km by that last week of June. Soooo, that means I need to average about 43km a week. Every week. FOREVER. By the way, that’s a marathon. Every week. FOREVER. Crap.
Why I will be limiting my use of the word “crap”. My ‘rentals finally got high speed! Yes, high speed internet. The kind of internet that the rest of us having been using since the late ’90s. Mimded informed me that one day she counted how many times I used the cr*p word or any variation of it. (includes cr*ppy, cr*ppola, cr*pped, cr*apper, etc.) (Those don’t count in the tally – they are for demonstrative purposes only!) So in an effort to miraculously prove my mother wrong, I decided to Wordle my blog.
The gist of a Wordle is that the bigger the word, the more often it is used. Or something like that. See? Crap is waaaay smaller than “run” or “race” or “Piper” (am I that girl? Ew). Although Mimsy might not be thrilled with the orange arrow target either…
Speaking of la famille…my old(er) sister started bootcamp! You see this is big news because unlike her dumpy younger sister who has been dragging her doughy trunk-junk to the gym since she was 18, Linny hasn’t had to exercise…ever. She’s naturally petite and has big boobs. And she’s lucky that I even talk to her. So imagine my delight when she disclosed to me (and now I am disclosing to all of you) that she literally barfed on her first day of bootcamp!
Looks like Linny needs less of this…
And more of this…
Of course, I am rooting for her to stick with it. It’s good for the heart and mind. And, obs, I’m crossing my fingers that some of the slimming effects will be directed at her rack. Heh. (Editor’s note: Linny has also quit smoking and despite the author’s distasteful sense of humour, she is wildly happy for her sis’ new commitment to the gym and pink lungs!)
And with that I bid ya “Top o’ tha Mornin!” because that is the only Irish thing I can come up with. I better ask O’Muffin for some tips on being fake Irish. Also, I leave you with this pic that was snapped of me during my run this morning…
(Thanks to PB Fingers for the link)
Wait, how about my attempt at Irish cooking…Lucky Charms bars. Sláinte!