Third Time's a Charm

Three half marathons, in 4 months.
First (November), a wee bit slow because of sore foot.
Second (January), I was pace leader so I had to stay put.
Third (February), I blew my PR out of the water by almost 14 minutes.

Hoorah for me.

March is a Sprint Triathlon with a half mile swim (WTF?)

April is half marathon number four.

May....who knows.

My Baby

He woke up, slid out of my bed and pitter-pattered into the living room. He is three, but when he crawled into my lap on the recliner and let me rock him, he was my infant again. Sleepy eyed, he stared off towards the ceiling for several minutes and I thought he might fall back asleep.
His hand came up, as if to stroke my cheek but instead, he slammed it into my nose.

H-O-N-K!

iFriends

Chit-chatting on my long runs with the folks in my training group invigorates me. It takes my mind off perceived effort and makes the miles seem shorter. Often times, one decent story (say, how my friend's son has given up diapers yet isn't quite potty trained) can last a mile. And once the tears dry up after learning that the little boy just wanted access his penis "so it dodn't faw aff," I can look around and say "Whoa, we're already on Main St!"

A few months ago, I found some iFriends (to coin a phrase), for my solo running days. While searching for free stuff on iTunes, I stumbled upon a podcast called the Extra Mile. It's a bunch of runners from all over the globe that submit stories & running updates, recorded while they are running. Some are advanced, some brand new, but all have that slightly stecato speech that you get when you converse on the trail. I love it. And it trips me out when I hear a car coming, then look around to find an empty street followed by the runner announcing "Hold on, I've got to cross this intersection." Most of the episodes run around 60 minutes (pardon the pun), so I can stretch a 45 workout into an hour with less mental resistance. They accept submission from practically anyone, so if I ever figure out how to carry a recorder in my bra, you might hear my voice one day...and we can advance from being e-friends to iFriends.

We Are Sorry

*And Thanks to Gwadzilla

"Strong" Coffee

Out the window, a Sysco truck parked mid-street caught my attention. The driver opened the back, rolled out a dolly with vegetable boxes stacked 10 high. I watched him disappear into truck again, leaving his stack balanced on the tailgate.

So from 30 feet away, sitting on the sofa of the bookstore, coffee in hand, indie music on the speaker above, I blew.

One quick puff of air directed at the boxes...and they toppled over.

Once...in Ireland

Once upon a time, a decade or so ago, I lived on the streets of Ireland.
I was a rebellious young woman with dreams of being an artist. Hopeless romanticism, curiosity and stubbornness quickly turned me into a Starving Artist. I sold Big Issue and made jewelry & sculptures out of found objects -life wasn't easy or as I'd hoped. My adventures led me to an Irish mandolin player in County Clare who healed and then broke my heart.

Naturally, I related to this film...




...but the fact that my husband loves and is inspired by this film, reminds me I am a "right feckin' loowkey gerl." I'm in a good place now.