Monthly Archives: May 2011

Desert (the verb)

Synonyms: abscond, apostatize, bail out, beach, betray, bolt, check out, chuck, cop out, crawl out, decamp, depart, duck, escape, flee, fly, forsake, give up, go, go AWOL, go back on, go over the hill, go west, jilt, leave, leave high and dry, leave in the lurch, leave stranded, light, maroon, opt out, play truant, pull out, quit, relinquish, renounce, resign, run out on, sneak off, split, strand, take a hike, take off, tergiversate, throw over, vacate, violate oath, walk

Yep, they pretty much all describe my behaviour over the past 14 days.  But contrary to popular belief, I haven’t totally abandoned FunnerRunner!  The past couple of weeks have been a bit hectic, gloomy and uninspiring – not great reading material. (<–like this)  And that just won’t do here.  So in the meantime, sit back and enjoy a photo recap from our May 2-4er weekend. And instead of curling up into a little ball with a bottle of Prosseco and a straw, I’ll work on a real update for y’all.

Saturday bright and early…20k prep.

I ate this...on purpose...not for a TV game show challenge.

Breakfast of champions isn't complete without a spoonful of PB

New running fuel...and my new giant H20 bottle.

20k done…barely, but that’s another story.  (Thank goodness this blog is about clocking miles and not about actually being a good runner)  On to the park with Piper!

W-A-L-K-? face

BDFF (Best dog friend forevah)

Off to a backyard shin-diggery-do at Hooles, B-Rock and the new bundle’s pad to eat, drink and be drunk merry.

Little B-Rock

B-Rock x2

Muffin & Kluke rockin' out

Piperoni rockin' out

On the road again…to the Gull River for some paddling and camping with Team Smoyce!  (Note: do not attempt camping, in the rain, in May, without dousing yourself in paint thinner (or whatever else is stronger than DEET) and an extra large bottle of something alcoholic enough to distract you from the incessant black flies and mosquitoes.  Seriously…blood dripping down the back of my ears.)

A dog with a plan

Agent Smith & Muffin "strategizing" their attack

Not drowning! Whoowee!

Checking in with the gals

There you have it…a post on a running blog and with no useful running material.  Maybe I should change the blog name to “Tipsy dog lover”, or more realistically, “I drink too much and take a lot of pictures of my dog”.

Bring it, Mother Nature.

Seriously?  I don’t care if you are a runner or not…that forecast stinks worse than B.O. & wet dog combined.  How is it that Mother Nature can be so, so cruel?  Isn’t it bad enough that we’ve suffered through FIVE of the FREAKINLONGESTDAYSEVERRRR in the office and now that it’s time to play, she’s gonna to stick it to us?  Low blow, lady…low blow.

Mama Nature's gone Busey crazy on us.

I’m super pissy about the rain for a number of reasons…so let the whine-o saga begin…

ONE!! (Typically would just be “#1″…but I’m angry and yelling each point) The Bootman’s (us) are heading to Perth this weekend to spend two and half glorious days with la famille.  We didn’t get a chance to shower the lovely Mimded with rainbows and puppies and homemade macaroni cards last weekend, so we’re making up for it.  Rain interferes with this plan because our traditional summer visits include, in no particular order: croquet (which I love/hate), newly added bocce ball (love!), letting Piper run FREE in the fields sans leash (she loves) and a deeeelish BBQ (um, lova lova loooove…duh).  Do any of these activities sound even remotely fun in the midst of the above-noted forecast?  Blah. Pfffffft.  Hrumph.  Let’s hope we don’t all go cray-cray jammed in the basement trying to convince Eduardo to change the channel to anything other than English-dubbed (if we’re lucky) Bollywood musicals.  (I’d love to say that’s an exaggeration, but with only six channels to choose from, his bar is set fairly low.)  So, stay tuned to see who shanks who first! (**Horse tranquilizers…crunch, crunch**)

TWO!!  I’m STILL behind in my quest for 1000km by July.  (I know, I know, hard to believe…what with all of the sleeping in and Lucky Charms eating.)  I’m putting in some decent runs but I was super counting on this weekend to clock off a 20k and then another 10k if I was feeling up for it.  Egads, we all know that I don’t need another ‘rental weekend running failure attempt on the treadmill.  So I’ve decided that given I’m only 50% made of sugar (the other 50% is a combination of spice and everything nice…and cream cheese), I’m not likely to melt in the downpour.  I’m psyching myself up for the worst…

Starting line at the Miami marathon...been there.

and really hoping for the best…

Rain is my new BFF!

But let’s be serious, I’m at my parents’ house, running in the rain…my worst nightmare could come true.

Nightmare on my street

So here I am…putting it out there…I will run 20km this weekend unless it’s an absolute, crazy, “can’t see the road in front of me” downpour.  Or I decide that I reeeeeally need to watch the end of the Littlest Hobo with my dad.

’cause you were the wind beneath my wiiiings…

In celebration of Moms, Mamas, Mothas, Mommaroos, Mamacitas, Mama Bears, Momskis…and my very own Mimded!

Sending luuuurve and hugs to…

New Moms…

Moms who irritate me…

The Moms that I will likely relate to…


Moms who have to pretend to like their amazing daughters-in-law…

“Because I said so” Moms…

And of course, my dearest, most superb, hipster, cool-cat, lovely gem of a momma… MIMDED!

Mimded!

And to all of my other amazing, gorgeous, faboo Momma friends!  Happy, happy Mother’s Day!

And to the many, many other faboo Mom’s that I know…have a relaxing day! xoxo

Rum is not a performance enhancer…

…unless you are in a rump shaking contest.  In that case, speaking from experience I’m totally guessing here, it most likely would be.  Not surprisingly, although disappointingly, rum does not help one’s running.  BLINK.  BLINK.  Seriously?  Yes.  Well at least not when you are past the age of 22.  (Double punch to the gut)  But before I get to that little disaster, let’s take a quick “Jamaican me love LOVE” sneak peek!

After a whirlwind few days of primping, tanning, hair do’ing, manicuring, shopping and last minute crunches packing, we were finally off for the oh-so looooong awaited wedding extravaganza!

Smooches and hugs all around as we greeted the other 40ish people at the airport who were joining our Jamaican adventure.  After a smooth check-in (read: getting my luggage weighed WITH Muffin’s in an effort to sneak on extra bikini weight…#winning) and an easy flight, the salty island air greeted us as we touched down in Montego Bay.  The next seven days are an alcohol induced fog so that’s about it for the recap.  I kid…you can keep reading Eduardo and Mimded!!

But because I’m simply lazy and writing takes a lot more effort, here’s a photo montage of some highlights.  (Disclaimer: I fully intended on scooping photos from Facebook, but apparently it’s a lot trickier to “borrow” other people’s images.  Irritating for me, but I suppose also Mark Zuckerberg’s way of saving us from having keg stand photos show up in the office newsletter.  Anyhoo, other people have way better pics (because I was too lazy busy and pickled important to capture memories), so stay tuned because eventually I’ll figure out how to steal from FB)

The GORGEOUS bride et moi

Beach party dancin'

Powder and me...heh.

Groom and fellas

Underwater adventure!

Hot n' happy couple

Again, stay tuned for tales of snorkeling, cliff jumping, LOVELY nuptials, our fantastic resort and other people’s more photos!  But in the meantime, my synopsis is: if you like happy people, jerk chicken and have a hankerin’ for prescription and/or non-prescription drugs…Jamaica is probably the place for you!! Ya mon.

Which brings me back to the perils of rum…as well as buffets, mojitos, 24hr mac n’ cheese and lounge chairs galore.  These little gems, shockingly, are not typically part of an athletic lifestyle.  BLINK.  BLINK.    Well, maybe just not the copious amounts that I consumed in a very short time frame.  But when in ‘Rome’, DO NOT think twice about the crap.  Enjoy it, savour it…try to pack it in your luggage and take it home with you.  Who’s with me?

That said, when I got home it was time to get back on the gravy train…or off it…and back to loggin’ the joggin’.  First day back…2.5km.   And it blew.  Rum chunks.  Lots of ’em.

So in my sporty wisdom, I decided to take a couple days off.  Then a couple more.  Then ate some pizza and mulled over how I’m not going to let my rum-punch powered legs get me down. No siree.  Then I slept in two more days…skipped my runs…and came up with a “MAY DETOX plan: Flushing out Jamaica”.

Me vs. me...bring it.

The basic premise is to clean up my over-processed food intake and get my fanny out the door.  And pronto, because those kilometers aren’t going to run themselves.  (But cheese and crackers, how awesome would that be?)  Having done some necessary number crunching revisions, it looks like my July 4th goal of hitting 1000km is going to be super tight.  But I’m going to give it a whirl and whine to you all about it along the way.  Fun x2!   If I make it I may just treat myself to something a li’l special?  I’m taking suggestions (…and gifts).

Some ideas…I’m just spitballing here, folks.

Procrastination pays off now.

I had really good intentions of keeping a few goals over the past couple of weeks.  Note that “had” is a key word.

So let’s hop back in time a couple of weeks and pick up where I started ignoring everything in life that didn’t have the words “Jamaica”, “sun”, “rum” or “wedding” in it.

I had a draft blog in the works (of my mind) but soon realized that no one wanted to read about my hatred for EVERYTHING that interfered with my countdown for vacay.  A blog about how I wanted to shot-put my 2lb weight at the new girl in Pump class or how I hung up the phone nano-seconds before going bat shit on some turd at work who called me about how my poster covered up his on a bulletin board does make for pleasant blog fodder.  Nor does it paint a pretty picture of me at the end of my rope.

So I made an executive decision to avoid blogging during pre-vacay rage.  You’re welcome.

I also made an executive decision to immediately start ruining my Summer 2011 Race Plan.  First up on the agenda was the Km’s for Care half-marathon on April 17 and as you can guess, I didn’t run it.  And boy am I glad I didn’t!  Between the just-barely-above freezing temps and the torrential rain that dominated the day, coupled with my ongoing rage and extreme irritability, I would have been a reeeeal treat to be around.  To be honest, I had decided about a week earlier that I wouldn’t be registering because when it boils down, I would rather spend $75 on another bikini instead of an XL race t-shirt and sample size bag of baked Doritos.  It’s just how I roll.  That said, I did run 21km on the Monday morning following the race day and logged the FREE km’s…and ate a bunch Doritos.

On the bright side, I did manage to cross off a few things that I had planned…

Dudes and I spun our little hearts out at the Battle in the Saddle spin-a-thon, despite our 3:30am demeanours.  We had big plans to sit on our bums, chat, and generally snooze with our legs moving through our shift.  Little did we know that we had signed up for CRAZYXTREMEHARDCORE fundraising.  We walked into the mall, coffee in hand, and were greeted with 10-ish teams of intense, sweaty, grunting spinners.  (NOT hot firemen waiting to flirt with and entertain us.)  All teams vying to gain the most mileage before either a) breaking their own knees or b) keeling over from heart attacks.  FUN!  It was then that Dudes said, “I didn’t want to punch you until just now”.  More FUN!  Anyhoo, we spun, we kept up and we managed to keep our team out of last place.  We think.

'Til the bitter end...complete with 4am sweaty-betty hair.

Also, Operation: Revival!  was a smashing success!  Both Dudes and I hit the milestones we were hoping for and had a bit of fun while getting there.  Next up for us is hot yoga.  Seriously.  I’m that good of a friend.  For those who know me, know that there is a reason I only run and bike.  Ever notice there is no mention of step class, Zumba, or anything else that requires moving one’s hands and feet simultaneously?  That’s intentional.  To save others and myself from awkwardly pretending that I’m not flailing around like a chubby, epileptic hunchback.  So hooray….trying to be bendy, sweaty, slippery and zen-like all at once should be awesome.

Crap...I didn't even think of that.