How to Prevent the Dreaded Ass-icle

I invented a new word this weekend.

Ass + Icicle = Assicle

This is a phenomenon that occurs when you are running in snow and 15 degree temperatures several days in a row and your butt (or at least mine) begins to numb, then freeze. Look! Your water freezes too!

Does looking at this photo just make you cold? Well, it was.

I always thought that since the butt (or at least mine) is mostly pure and lovely fat, it would keep me warm. But, I did some research (i.e., Googling “why does my butt freeze when I run?”) and found out this is SO not the case.

You see, fat may be a great insulator, but it doesn’t carry around blood like muscle does. Therefore, circulation is limited resulting in the dreaded assicle.

You cannot see it, but there is a block of ice between my lower back and my upper thighs.

As you can guess, women are blessed with (as a stereotype) fattier asses than men (not fair, not fair at all), so we tend to freeze up more often. Ken never complains about his ass freezing. Never. But I did use this beard ice for my margarita later on.

I am thinking deeply right now: I bet if Kim Kardashian ran in the cold she would have a monumental assicle. Just sayin’.

Ways to Prevent the Assicle:

• Stay inside and watch Netflix
• Build up extreme muscle in your butt (because this is SO very easy to do)
• Wear an extra layer over your cheeks like a running skirt over tights
• Run with a quilt tied around your waist
• Wear a cycling jacket instead of a running jacket. They are longer (and have handy pockets in the back)

Yes, so it does take a bit more motivation and self talk to bundle up on these super cold days. But, the payoff? Peace, beauty and the honor of  labeling yourself a brave and courageous bad-ass. See my post HERE about tips for running in the cold.

How’s the weather where you are? We are beginning to thaw out after almost a week of snow and bitter cold.

Do you get the assicle? If not, what part of your body gets the coldest while running? For me, it’s my face, my hands and my butt. My legs, core and feet are usually pretty warm.

SUAR

Input Needed

Somehow I’ve been talked into doing a running clinic one week from tonight at a local health club. 

My audience will be comprised of about 25 “fitness runners” and/or those looking to compete in organized races. I will be discussing:

• Injury prevention (I should be a rock star at this one by now)
• Running gear (thongs and g-strings of course)
• Nutrition (lots of fiber and Mexican food before races)
• Stretching (make sure you get the “taint”)
• Race strategies (don’t train, just wing it)
• Pooping in bushes

I really wish you could all be there for my dog and pony show.

I’ve got a pretty decent outline for the event, but want to tap into your knowledge. Each and every one of you – please take a minute to answer:

1. If you were attending a running clinic, what would you most want to learn about?
2. As a runner, what is your best tip?

You guys are a wealth of information!! I can read until I’m blue in the face, but real life experience is where it’s at. I can only draw on my personal adventures, which include crapping in trees and farting my way around local running trails. I’d love to hear what you have to say.

Thanks in advance,

SUAR

Suck It, Wall

Here’s how my taper is going (yes, Jamoosh, those are all microbrews):

In my quest to run a flawless marathon during which I meet me time goal, do not mess my pants. and feel energized and pain free the entire time, I have been doing some reading. Mentally preparing you could call it.

Last week, I referenced an article by Michael Bane called, “Breaking through the wall” (Men’s Fitness, 1999). There was discussion of pre-race brain training. Now it’s time to look at how to avoid the wall (i.e., an apparently insurmountable physiological barrier which stops you in your tracks), and if you can’t do that, then what to do when you hit it and hit it hard. We are assuming when your face slams up against that invisible vertical concrete slab, you will not consider quitting. It is simply not an option (unless you are injured, paralyzed, get your period or your legs fall off).

The following is from the same above-referenced article:

Five ways to avoid the Wall (but, there are no guarantees): 

1. Train realistically. Athletes have a remarkable talent for self-deception. The best way to know how you'll respond in a situation is to practice that situation first. If you're training for a marathon, at least one of your training runs needs to be 26 miles. If you're training for a race that takes place at night, some of your training needs to be at night.
2.  Cross train. The more you move toward harder endurance events such as a marathon, the more overall balance seems to pay off. I like to trade off sports (for example, biking and running) to keep my interest up and injuries down. The added plus is that my overall higher level of fitness helps carry me through longer events.
3.  Avoid judgments. Fine athletes talk themselves into quitting because they were running below par. You need to set these judgments aside on race day.
4. Prepare mentally. Forget happy talk; you're going to hurt. But you know that already. In my mental rehearsals, I try to be as realistic as possible and acknowledge that it's going to be painful. I also remind myself that, despite it all, I've crossed a lot of finish lines.
5. Plan flexibly. Remember, long athletic events tend to be chaos systems. You can't foresee everything nature is going to throw at you. Mental flexibility is your greatest tool for getting past the Wall.

Six things to do when you hit the Wall

1. Say, “shit, shit, shit.” (I added that one)
2. Keep going. "Program" yourself before the event that you're going to press on regardless, even if you're barely moving.
3. "Table" your thoughts. The easiest way to quiet those negative thoughts is to set them aside. Sometimes I actually visualize a locker-like box, where I stuff all my negative thoughts away until I have the time and energy to deal with them.
4. Get out of your head. Don't dwell on how amazingly awful you feel. Focusing on a really attractive woman running nearby can be a great distraction. I've done it, and it works. Hormones are wonderful things.
5. Try bribery. Depending on just how bad you're feeling, a judicious dose of deferred compensation can help. I've gotten myself out of some grim times with the promise of a pint of Ben & Jerry's Phish Food if l cross the finish line. (The bribes can get pretty big: At one point, I had to buy myself a motorcycle.)
6. Open negotiations. Give yourself permission to quit if you'll only go another 10 feet ... another quarter mile ... even around the next corner. I have climbed entire mountains by cutting interim deals: "Another 200 vertical feet, then I'll sit down and reevaluate ..." After that 200 feet, it's, "Hey, I don't feel so bad ... maybe I'll go another 45 minutes and then I'll quit." Keep repeating this until you're so close to finishing that you can say, "What the heck? Let's wrap this puppy up."

I think it’s all great advice, especially the one about “getting out of your head.” I distract myself with attractive women as well.

The one point I take issue with is, “If you're training for a marathon, at least one of your training runs needs to be 26 miles.” This is a personal choice, but for me, running 26 miles is too hard on my body to do twice in one training cycle. My long runs (10+ miles) this training season were 12, 14, 16, 18, 20, 11, 16, 18. 5, 18. 5, 13.

Thoughts?

Uses for Tampons and an 18 Miler

Running tip:  Help your body recover after a long run by feeding it some protein within the first 30-60 minutes after finishing. Chocolate milk, an egg sandwich or a bagel with peanut butter are all good options.

Wow, you guys are good at the hidden object game. You must have read Highlights magazine when you were children. I used to love the hidden pictures. Still do.

You also really know your tampons. Yes, it was a tampon. Naturelle brand. Let me tell you why I have this particular tampon when I don’t even wear tampons (I can’t. I had Toxic Shock Syndrome way back when and still am not supposed to wear them). You see, I was at the Taylor Swift concert the other night with my eight year old daughter and 16,000 other screaming girls under the age of 15 using their glow sticks as microphones. Anyway, we went to the bathroom and I noticed free tampons and pads. I don’t turn down anything that is free, so I stuffed it in my purse. You never know, one of the 16,000 screaming girls could have gotten her period for the first time and I would need to save the day. Always good to have it on hand. After all, I can think of lots of other uses for a tampon (besides the obvious):

• Spin the tampon game
• Trail marker so you don’t get lost
• Plugging up holes in a boat
• Pull cord for a lamp or ceiling fan
• Rescue float for Lifeguard Barbie
• Dabber for greasy pizza

Winners!

Beth gets a giveaway entry for being the first to guess what it was

Tara gets three entries for guessing the brand (dang girl, you nailed it, did you study tamponology in school or something?)

Paul gets three entries for being the only guy brave enough to write the word “tampon” in the comments

Shellspotgirl gets three entries for guessing the brand

Today I got up at the ass crack of dawn to get in my 18 miler before the chaos of the day began. It was pretty uneventful. I ran the first half with no music and tried to stay focused on my breath and to be at one with my body. For the second half, I decided to screw being present with my body and opted to be distracted by my iPod. I find I’m faster with the music. I tried Hammer/Heed products today – Melon flavored drink and an apple spice gel. These products are much less sweet than most others and I liked the lack of sugar. I had absolutely no tummy trouble. Just a couple skid marks. Success! I also ran in my new Nike Dri Fit socks, which are supposed to protect from blisters. They worked like a charm.

 Overall, I did 18.5 miles in 2:44 with an avg pace of 8:54.

I’ve only got two long runs left – another 18 and a 15. Only four weeks until race day.

Post run, I went directly to the Starbucks drive thru where I got a large coffee and an egg sandwich. Decided get some good karma points and told the cashier I wanted to pay for the lady behind me. Turns out she ordered some large ass drink and a sandwich. I wanted to be nice, but not that nice. Don’t people just order small hot chocolates anymore?

What was your long run this weekend? Does music make you faster? How many weeks until your next race?

Drinking: Grande mild coffee with extra cream

Hidden Object

Running tip: When you buy new shoes, keep track of the miles you put on them. Replace every 300-400 miles.

Let’s play a little game. I know you all have nothing better to do. Here are my new running shoes. Mizuno Wave Inspire 6. Can you find the hidden object? Better yet, can you tell me what it is? First person to identify the object gets an extra contest entry. If you give me the brand, you get three bonus entries.

I’ll leave you with this (for the real version, look HERE):

Whatever you do, don’t forget my giveaway/contest!

Drinking: Grande mild coffee from Starbucks

Overflowing

Running Tip: Now that spring has sprung, dress light! Wear clothing that is suitable for about 10 degrees warmer than it is. Unless you are training to run Badwater. Then just wear your down coat in the sauna.

Okay, seriously blog world. Is that all you’ve got??? Many of you entered my giveaway, yet so few were courageous enough to send a picture of yourself looking ridiculous. So, what I take from this is that you all want free stuff, but don’t want to put yourself on the line and look stupid. That actually does make sense. Or, maybe it’s a time issue. As in, do you guys really have families and jobs and marathon training to tend to?

How am I to have a fruitful photo contest if you don’t send me your obnoxious photos? Here are the perks of taking a photo risk with me (here come the bullets):

• The odds are in you favor - especially for the guys. GUYS, send in your pics.
• You get five extra entries to the giveaway
• You have a chance (and a pretty good one) to win a really cool hydration pack worth $70
• I know modeling and talent agencies comb my site looking for potential subjects. This could be your big break.

I’m done begging and pleading. Do what you want. But just know I expected more. Don’t you wish I was your mother? I could say this to you everyday.

Today I’m going for twelve miles. I wish for many things on my longer runs. To feel strong. To be present. To see the beauty around me. To not shit. That last wish is a tough one and is usually not granted. It would be a more realistic wish if I said, “To not shit my pants.” Shitting goes without saying.

That said, did I ever tell you the story of my most embarrassing moment? Believe me, I have a laundry list of them, but this one takes the cake.

I was 18. I thought I was in love for the first time. My then boyfriend, Michael, wanted to take me to meet his grandparents in Annapolis. But prior to this blissful meeting, he wanted to take me to his favorite deli for a rich, huge, calorie laden Ruben sandwich and chocolate malt (foreshadow). This sounded good at the time.

Here’s what I remember. I ate the whole sandwich and drank the whole malt. We walked outside and it was about 95 degrees and humid. The tar on the road was steaming and stunk. You know when you feel sick, you notice all the sights, smells and sounds around you. They are vivid. In your face. They all make you feel worse.

We got to Michael’s grandparents condo. It is important to note this was a condo. Not much room to run and hide (foreshadow).

We sat around conversating (anyone watch the Biggest Loser? Anyone annoyed by Victoria who used this word, convesating, in a sentence?). Suddenly, my stomach cramps up. The pain is so severe I’m can’t carry on a conversation. I excuse myself to the little powder room off of the living room. I blow it up and flush it down. No harm no foul (NHNF). I return to my seat on the couch with Michael’s grandpa, “Poppie” and his grandma.

Not a minute later, wave two is upon me. The cramping is intense. The need to use the bathroom again is urgent. I excuse myself again. You can get away with one trip to the bathroom, but two trips in five minutes and you should probably just announce to everyone present, “I have diarrhea!”

This time when I unload, the toilet hesitates. It swirls and bubbles, but eventually agrees to ingest what I’ve put in it. I am praising the Lord, promising to only do good deeds for the rest of my life.

I head back out to the family, who by this time knows I’m sick. I vaguely remember grandma dimming the lights and telling me to lie down for a moment sweetie. I stretch out a bit, already feeling humiliated, but knowing the worst is behind me (foreshadow).

Are you kidding me? Wave three is in the house. Shrouded with shame and trepidation, I again head for the bathroom. It’s hard to believe I had anything left, but I did. With sheer relief because I felt so much better and knew I got it all out, I flushed the toilet. Only this time, the water hesitated as if to say, “Really? You really think you can drop this kind of a load and I’m just going to take it with no consequences?” I watched the water churn slowly, then it started to rise. Little whispers and pleas flew from mouth, “Just go down. Please go down. If you go down I’ll do anything. I’ll join a convent. I’ll stop having pre-martial sex. I’ll give all my savings from working at Roy Rogers to charity. Anything!” But, the toilet gods did not listen and did not care. The shit water rose and rose until it was spilling and gushing from the toilet. I pulled up the small rectangular rug on the floor and watched, horrified, as the shit water started to seep under the door and out into the hallway.

Now, stop reading for a moment, and think to yourself. WWID? What would I do? Seriously. What would you do? What could I do? It’s not like I could sneak out the back window, although I wanted to. I had to call for help. I had to call the first love of my life who I had not so much as farted in front of to help me. “Michael!” I yelped from the bathroom. Michael came over and screamed, “OH MY GOD!” He then called in Poppie, who kindly told me to step aside as he brought in the mop.

And there you have it, my friends. Don’t ever say I didn’t tell you my deepest and darkest secrets. I think since I just put this out there, the least you can do is send a damn picture.

Drinking: Kirkland coffee brewed by Starbucks

Insane Contest and Giveaway

Running tip: If you have always wanted to run naked, but didn’t know how to go about doing it without being arrested, check out the Naked Pumpkin Run website. Good old fashioned fun!

I’ve got something brewing. I’ve had it brewing for a couple of weeks now. And, I’m going to let it out.

Those who know me and know this blog are likely worried I’m about to have a colon blow. But, alas, it is nothing like that. Not even close. This is something you will like, something that won’t revolt you and doesn’t smell. I might go so far as to say this is something you will love. And, if this wasn’t my blog, I would be all over becoming a part of this thing.

You are not going to believe this giveaway/contest. There are two parts, so listen up. Or, if you don’t read my blog out loud, then read up:

Outside PR, a company that represents such faves as Ryder’s Eyewear, GoLite, Road I.D., Sugoi and GU, helped score the amazing products for this contest/giveaway. Devon of Outside PR (who is a she, not a he) did this up right. Thanks Devon and thanks to GoLite and Ryders!

Here we go.

For the giveaway, there will be two winners, a female and a male. Here are your prizes:

For the female winner:

GoLite Cottonwood Run Tank $50

GoLite Tilly Jane Run Skirt $60

Ryders Drill Sunglasses: $39.99

For the male winner:

GoLite Wildwood Shirt $45

GoLite Mesa Short $40

Ryders Eyewear Drill Sunglasses $39.99

Combined, this is $275 worth of stuff from GoLite and Ryders Eyewear! Nothing to sneeze at.

To enter:

There are several ways to enter to win, each that will give you points:

1. Submit a picture of yourself to brisdon@comcast.net in your most ridiculous and idiotic running gear. Don’t be shy. Showing skin, fat, wedgies, camel toes, etc is fine if it’s not too profane. Let me see your style! Go for shock value! Show me why you need some new clothes!: +5 entries (I will enter your entries manually in the comments to be sure you get your credit).
2. Leave a comment as to why you want to win the gear: +1 entry
3. Become a follower of this blog and leave a comment telling me so: +1 entry
4. Link back to this giveaway from your blog and leave comment telling me so: +1 entry
5. Become a FB Fan or follower on Twitter of Ryders Eyewear and leave comment telling me so +1 entry
6. Become a FB Fan or follower on Twitter of GoLite and leave comment telling me so +1 entry

Note: You do not have to submit a picture to enter the giveaway. Just do one of the above for an entry (or entries).

Please leave a comment for each of the above so you get your correct number of entries!

One female and one male winner will be selected randomly on April 12th.

Photo entries from the top contenders (at my discretion) for both male and females will be published on my blog on April 13th. Readers can then vote on these photos. On April 19th, the female and male winners with the most votes will each win:

GoLite: Rush Pack $70

So, get busy. Find the grossest/ugliest/outdated/worst running gear. Undress yourself. Observe yourself in the mirror for a moment like you usually do when you’re naked. Put on your grossest/ugliest/outdated/worst running gear. Set the self timer, or find someone who won’t make fun of you to take your picture. Email it to me at brisdon@comcast.net. Sit back and wait for your victory!

As an example, here’s me in some a stupid ass running get-up. I know you can do better than this:

In small writing:

• Enter now through Monday, April 12, at noon (Mountain time).
• Only residents of the US and Canada, please
• Winners of the random drawing to be announced Tuesday, April 13.
• You guys will vote on the top photo entries from Tuesday, April 13 to Sunday April 18.
• Winners of the photo contest to be announced Monday, April 19.
• All of this cool stuff for the giveaway was provided by Outside PR from GoLite and Ryder’s Eyewear. I didn’t pay for any of it.

Good luck!

Drinking: H2O

Pictures from the Promised Land

Running tip: Today’s run may have been worse than the last one. Don't get too depressed, it is only normal to feel sore and fatigued once in a while.

Since I contaminated myself yesterday by showing you the gross shots of my swollen mug shot face, allow me to somewhat redeem myself. You may not know me personally, and while I’m no hottie, I do look better than Nick Nolte on most days:

For instance, here is my back view, with an almost-crack shot. I should have been a plumber. If you look really hard you can see the “Target” brand tag:

Yup. Lovers of 15 years on the beach. GET A ROOM, the kids shouted. 8am? Never too early for a beer.

These are my offspring. That’s right. I have the same sized chest as my 8 year old:

Here I am trying to sea kayak with Emma. We are only 10 feet from the shore.

Here is the view from our suite. Seriously??? No one should have to live this way:

Here I am trying to pretend I am 18. Who am I kidding. You can’t put a bikini on from Target and braids in your hair and think you’re on high school spring break again. Where’s the beer bong? Who’s got the birth control? I hope I don’t get VD or crabs on this trip.

Here is what I ate a lot of. Shrimps with tentacles and eyes. Probably even a testicle in there.

And, here was the breakfast I had every morning. Fresh Mexican pastries (without any e-coli I hope) and good coffee. The perfect pre-dump meal:

I found that a few crepes at lunch made me pretty happy:

Maybe I did, or maybe I didn’t put some guac on the crepes. Or maybe this came from the bathroom (ewww..)

My running spot in the morning:

Chlorophyll water at the gym. WTF? Chlorophyll water = swollen face?

Coming home from vacation with a swollen face and sitting on your stairs sucks:

And there you have it. Spring break, 2010. Rock on.

Drinking: H20

I'm All Swollen

Running tip: Don’t neglect and irritate your family and friends by spending all your time running and talking about running. You love running and everyone knows it. However, not everyone wants to hear about what pace you kept over ten miles. The good news is, your running friends and blogger friends eat that shit up. So save it for them.


Home safe and sound, but barely. Our annual Mexico family vacation ended up on an interesting note for two reasons.

1. Right before leaving for the airport, we were having lunch at the resort. Ken told me that my face looked a bit swollen around the eyes. A few minutes later he told me that I was "starting to look different," and he was worried. To understand the impact of his comment, you need to know Ken. He worries about nothing (except maybe his March Madness bracket). Even when I was in labor and screaming, shitting and cussing, he was cool as a cucumber. So for him to even admit any kind of worry is in and of itself alarming. I looked in the mirror and sure enough my face was swollen and getting more so by the second. I took a Zyrtec and we left for the airport. By the time I got up this morning, I looked like this - swollen face shot, can also be called my "mug shot":

As compared to the "real" me:

Seriously. I could be Nick Nolte (remember this?):

A trip to the doc first thing this morning confirmed that I am, indeed, allergic to Mexico. Bummer, because I really like it there. The doc, in fact, had no clue what caused the reaction: the sun, the mango yogurt from that morning, who knows. I headed to Target to get an Rx of Prednisone filled (hey, cool, a steroid. Maybe this will help my running and make me really bulky). I kept on my sunglasses in the store.

Whenever I see people wearing sunglasses inside I always thing that 1) they think they are really cool, 2) they are incredibly hungover, or 3) they forgot they had them on. Now I realize that maybe those people had an allergic reaction on a vacation and are picking up a prescription. Kind of a bummer to be all ballooned up, but I think I prefer the swollen face to diarrhea, which I did not get on this trip.

Here's the second welcome home incident:

2. You know it's going to be a rough ride on the airplane when the captain/pilot comes on and says, "It's going to be a rough ride for the duration of the flight. Return to your seats NOW." You really know it's going to be a rough ride when the flight attendants prepare the cabin for landing when you are still at 32,000 feet because they need to strap in (don't they usually do this like 2 seconds before the wheels hit the ground?). You know it's going to be a white knuckle, stomach churning, really, really rough ride when the flight attendants say, "Buckle in your children really tight. If you start to feel airsick, take off your sweater and keep as cool as possible." Seriously. Does the captain not know I have a vomit phobia? The only thing than having a vomit phobia is being trapped in a seat belt at 30,000 feet with the potential of vomit occurring around me. Did I mention I hate to fly? I do it fairly frequently, but I hate it. It scares me to death. I even hate those itty bitty bits of turbulence that no one else seems to feel or notice.

So, when the rough patch hit, and it HIT, I thought I was going to die. Literally. At about 25,000 feet the plane was being tossed around in the air. Everyone did several collective gasps/screams. Several people got sick. My seat belt was digging into my middle where it was holding me. It only went on a for a few minutes, but it was seriously awful. The only thing that saved me was that I was distracted by having to take care of Sam, who is 12, and help him to feel less afraid. I found myself saying things like, "Oh, we'll be fine (oh my god, we're going to die!). It's not dangerous, just uncomfortable (Bullshit! We're going down. I love you son, I love all of you!). We only have 10,000 feet more to go 'til the ground" (10 mother eff'ing feet! We'll never make it).

If you are wondering how I know how high we were it's because Frontier has maps at every seat showing where you are and at what elevation. I'm not some cartographer or whatever. I don't even know what that means. Here's one from this trip as we approached Cancun:

Of course, we made it safely. I was never so glad to touch down. They should have handed out mints or something when we got off to celebrate being alive. There were some pretty crazy winds south of Denver yesterday (70 mph), so that was the culprit.

I've got tons of pictures coming to share with you, so check back.

I've also got an upcoming giveaway/contest that is INSANE. You seriously will not want to miss this one.

Have you ever had a harrowing or extremely uncomfortable experience on an airplane? Do tell.


Drinking: Nothing. Too swollen.

From Mexico

Running tip: Just run and stop making excuses (don't mind me, I'm a bit drunk and that's all I have to offer).

Oh, excuse me while I take a break to sip my margarita and admire my bronzed arms and legs.

It has been a day of paradise in Mexico - I got up early before the rest of my lazy family. 6am is a good wake up time on vacation, right? I headed for a short walk on the beach before finding some coffee. By 7:30am I was in the fitness center and glad that I had remembered to translate miles into kms for the treadmill. I did 10K at 11.1 kms/hour (8:40 pace) and I about died. Between the fact that they keep that place hot, I was slightly hungover (let's count what I drank yesterday - glass of wine on the plane, glass of champagne while we checked in, cerveza or two when we got to the room, glass of wine with dinner, glass of wine after dinner = way too many drinks for me).

I'm sure the run did me good to flush the toxins, but it kind of sucked. No bathroom issues until I finished. Major cramping on the beach, and I was pleasantly surprised to find out it was only a matter of farting a couple of times and I was good to go. The fitness center has water and chlorophyll water, something I've never heard of. It looks like water with algae. I tried some. Maybe that's why I had the cramps. After the run, we headed for a buffet breakfast. My plan of action at the buffet is to get one of everything and take a bite of each thing. So my plate was covered in fancy fruit, waffles, runny eggs, sausage links, fresh pastries, you name it. Repeat this at lunch. More cramping.

We did some sea kayaking, took a bike tour into the small town of Puerto Moreles, and did lots of laying around on the beach. No Montezuma's revenge. Yet. But, the night is still young.

I have tons of great pictures to share with you upon our return to CO.

Drinking: tequila, what else?

Mexico Prep

Running tip: Protect your toes by using Body Glide or Vaseline. Those nubs do need some love and attention, especially on long runs.

Today I went to get a pedicure, since Mexico is right around the corner (2 days). Don’t hate. My feet have pretty much not seen the light of day since September. They are gnarly. Huge blister atop a huge bunion. Missing big toenail on my right foot. The toenail actually fell off a couple weeks ago and now there is just this pool of blood remaining under a new nail is trying to grow in. Hell, I am paying just as much as the next guy for a pedicure and I’m not going to be ashamed of how gross my feet are. In fact, I work hard to get these feet looking this bad.

So, I'm at the nail salon, in the throne chair, soaking my feet and reading Glamour. This sweet Asian woman was working on my feet. She didn’t speak much English. She took my right foot out of the sudsy tub to remove my nail polish. Only I didn’t have on any nail polish. She was scrubbing and scrubbing the place on my big toe where the blood is stuck under the nail. Apparently she thought it was purple nail polish (probably OPI’s Purple with a Purpose). I kept trying to tell her that it was a bruise and not to worry about it. But, being the hard worker she was, she kept on with the cotton ball and the nail polish remover. She was working that thing. Finally, she looked up at me and said, “This no paint?” I said, “No, it’s not going to come off.” She gave it one last try, as if it was her personal mission to remove this stubborn purple polish. I bet if she had surgical equipment she would have found a way to remove the old blood. Eventually, she gave up. I give her credit. I could tell giving up was not easy. But she did it.

Today I put in 15 miles (9:20 avg). That means I have run 45 miles in the past six days. I know some of you animals run 90+ miles a week, but I don’t. In fact this might be a PR for me. I knew I had to get in my long run today since come Sunday I will be lazing my ass under a palapa, passed out, with a tequila spiked umbrella drink glued to my hand and a smile on my face. For effect, this is the exact beach and palapa where I can be found. Don't hate again.

Being only 7 weeks out from the marathon, I can’t totally slack on this vacation, however. What sucks is I will have to run in this fitness room with this view. Yes that is the Caribbean right there:

Here's outside view of la gym. (Or should I say El gym. I was a French major not Spanish):

Running on a treadmill will be much safer for me than being outside. I plan on ingesting loads of beans, cheese and alcohol, so the inevitable Shut Up and Run poop will surely poke its ugly head out at some point during the run. Much easier to pause the treadmill and mosey on over to the toilet than to find a prickly pear cactus to hide my white ass behind.

What you got on tap for Spring break?

Drinking: Grande mild Starbucks coffee with extra cream

Back Off

Running tip: In the midst of a tough training schedule, give yourself a break. Every 4th or 5th week make sure you decrease workout by at least 30%. Your body needs a sigh of relief once in a while (source: Runreviews.com)

It’s a snow day here. Kids and Ken are home. Yes, I know. In the middle of dang March. I should not be surprised. March and April are huge snow months in Colorado. It cracks me up how people who have lived here forever act all shocked when it snows during the spring. Dude, it snows every single year like this.

What I was not prepared for was that the satellite went out. That does not happen every spring. I missed "The Biggest Loser" and "American Idol." It was a sad night. I found myself doing weird things like reading, paying attention to my family and going to bed early. I contemplated going to Sears and watching it on their showroom TVs with my designer Snuggi and glass of wine. Now that's white trash.

I am glad I got in my ten mile run yesterday before the white stuff hit. Let’s just say running a ten mile run at marathon pace (8:40, but I only managed 8:49) two days after a 20 mile run stunk. Literally. More bathrooms issues during that run, too, but I’ll spare you. I usually don’t spare you, but I will today because the blog world can only take so much poop talk. Suffice it to say it was a replay of Sunday’s run(s) minus 10 miles. Here's me heading out. I wore my Shut Up and Run shirt hoping it would give me inspiration. It didn't. I wore it backwards with the logo on the front. I figured no one would be slower than me and see the back.

Today was to be speed work, but I’m backing off. My body is telling me with every cell of its being that I should not run today. And I am listening. Even though my training schedule says get the hell out there, I am ignoring it. I am convinced what got me the stress fracture was pushing too hard. But this is what goes on in my head:

Soft/yoga/holistic/calm/accepting voice: Your legs hurt, your intestines are revolting, you are fatigued. Take some time off. If you don’t meet your mileage for the week, no biggie.

Hard ass/competitive/critical/fearful voice: You’ve got to get the mileage in or you won’t do well in the marathon. Your body is supposed to hurt. Push harder. Don’t be such a wimp. You’ll be in Mexico next week and you won’t train as hard.

Do you have two sides in your head telling you what to do? Who do you listen to? Do you ever back off from what your training schedule says, or do you plow ahead regardless?

Drinking: Kirkland coffee brewed by Starbucks.

20 Miler Report - Not So Pretty

Running tip: Frozen peas make a great ice pack for aching muscles after a long run or race. The best part is if you get hungry and don't want to get up, you can just grab a pea.


20 miles is a long eff’ing way to run, in case you didn’t know it. It’s actually a long way to bike, and even can be a long drive if you are in traffic, your kid is throwing up, has diarrhea or is crying. I tried to map out yesterday's 20 miler so it would be shorter or feel shorter, but when the day is done 20 miles is just 20 miles.

It was a beautiful day, the sun beat down (thanks Tom Petty), and even though the thermometer said 29*, I knew it would warm up soon. We got a big spring snow on Friday, so the mountains looked amazing in the bright sun and the roads were clear. We parked Ken’s truck at the ten mile mark (he was doing only ten), drove home and started from there.

Ken and I hardly talked for ten miles. Some runs are just like that. When you’re with people you don’t know that well, you feel obliged to make conversation. When you’re with your spouse you can ignore them and it’s all good.

Mile 2:
Me: Wow, that smells.
Ken: Yeah, they’re burning weeds.
Me: Oh.

Mile 5:
Me: I’m stopping take off my gloves
Ken: Okay. I’ll take a gel.

Mile 7:
Ken: Can you believe Kansas?
Me: They suck. Ruined my bracket.

Mile 8:
Me: I need to stop again for some Tums.
Ken: It’s getting hot.

Mile 10:
Ken: Do you have another ten miles in you?
Me: I hope so, love you. See you at home.

Back to the Tums. Yeah, I took one at mile 8 because my belly started talking to me a bit. Just some minor cramping that I thought would pass (foreshadow). Unfortunately, when I hit mile 12 the seizing up continued and I knew it was just going to be another Shut Up and Run poop story. Thank god I crap myself regularly so I have something to blog about.

Here’s a pic at mile 12, just to show you the beauty of the day. Not the beauty of my colon, which was now attempting to hold in last night’s sausage, onion, mushroom pizza, 2 buffalo wings, one Alaskan Amber and a glass of chardonnay. Oh, and some Jelly Bellies in bed. Could it be possible I deserve these problems? (Note to self: re-evaluate what you eat/drink the night before a long run).

Miles 12-15 went pretty well. I was cruising along trying not to become one with the many pelotons of cyclists that came whizzing by me. These cyclists always think you are annoying as a runner because you are running on their shoulder of their road and are in their way. Dicks.

I only had a near heart attack once when some guy in a 1980 VW Jetta proved how big his penis was and nearly side swiped me while honking his horn. Nice job. I hope that made you feel really good about yourself. You almost hit a 110 lb runner with your 2 ton car. You win. And, you managed to honk the horn while almost hitting that runner. Amazing way to multi-task. Your mother must be very proud.

At mile 16 I squirted in my tights. At mile 16.25 I stopped at the place with the bathroom tip jar and took a dump. I used the Glade air freshener to cover it up and felt good about myself for leaving an evergreen scent intermingled with the distinct smell of turd.

At mile 19 I had such bad cramps I wanted to walk. But being only a mile, less than 9 minutes, from home, I didn’t want to mess with my average per mile pace, so I kept running. It sucked.

Mile 20: I walked in the door and ran for the loo (I’m so sophisticated and British) to let it all out. Not pretty, but what shit is? Best part was, I went to flush and the toilet was clogged. By whom? My eight year old daughter. That apple not only didn’t fall far from the tree, it got stuck in its branches for good. So, I had to grab the plunger and deal with that whole disgusting business. No one, and I mean no one, likes plunging with turd in the toilet.

The rest of the afternoon was shot. I bet I hit the bathroom at least five times. I got a lot of reading done. Did you know celebs workout with pals and get parking tickets, just like me?? That is so freaking cool. Did you know you can use your Ugg boot as a potholder?

There you have it. A messy 20 miler done in 2 hours, 59 minutes (8:59 average per mile pace). I’m happy with that.


I’m signing off for now to go into my workshop to perfect my running shorts with the built in Depends. God knows I’ll need it for my marathon.

Drinking: Kirkland brand coffee brewed by Starbucks

Free Ball

Running tip: Avoid carrying loose change. It will annoy those running with you.

Well, shit. I just cannot pull one over on you guys. I apparently had two faux pas (pauses?) in my last post.

First of all, I told you about Devon from Outside PR who so graciously sent me the Ryders Eyewear to review. I eloquently described Devon as being a cute guy, but this was just in my imagination. Imagine my surprise when Devon emailed me to let me know she was a she. Vagina and all. Well, she didn’t say that, but I did. Sorry, Devon. Those names that could go either way really mess me up (Pat, Morgan, Drew, Yanni). I never should have assumed. Ass out of U and Me. Right?

Secondly, Paul from PB Down Under was kind enough to leave me this comment on my last post when I spoke of "wetting whetting your pallet":

What a giggle you have given me when you say something like "wet your pallet." ROTFL :-) Maybe you think we are all truckers and have piles of these things (pallets) lying around?? Methinks your fingers meant to type "palate!" Blame it on the finger with the cut who was probably just trying to get you back for attempting to chop her off!

Well, Paul, let me tell you something. I actually was talking about a trucker’s pallet. How did you know? I was hoping that we could all take a moment to rinse off and hose down those pallets we have laying around. Did you think I meant “palate?” (The roof of the mouth in vertebrates having a complete or partial separation of the oral and nasal cavities). As in a cleft palate? Oh no, my friend.

And if you believe that then you’ll believe I meant to say "Chopin was a concert penis" not a "concert pianist."

Seriously, though, thanks for the comment. You guys always make me laugh. I read each and everyone one of them.

Despite all of my shortcomings (and there are too many of them to ever confine to this blog), someone out there loved me yesterday.

Let me set the stage for you. I had just finished an 8.5 mile run, rinsed off, and decided to hit the Starbuck’s drive-thru before running a few mom-errands. I was not wearing mom jeans or listening to mom music (Kenny Rogers, Billy Joel) when I did this. The line at the drive thru was long, but I was in no hurry. I passed the time listening to Dr. Laura berate someone for the 201st time about the fact that they lived with their boyfriend (I think “whore” was the word she used). I finally ordered my grande mild coffee with extra cream (right to my colon), and inched my way to the pay window. I had my $2 out and ready to go. Rolling my window down as I approached the cashier I heard her say, “You’re all taken care of. The car in front of you paid for your drink.” Damn, I love this pay it forward stuff. And, damn, if I would have known I would have gotten a triple venti extra large mocha with gold shavings.

Seriously, thanks to that anonymous soul. I tried to chase him/her down flailing my money at their car so I wouldn’t feel so indebted to the universe, but he/she had disappeared into the mess of side streets and box stores.

This has been happening to me all over the place. First the guy at the Chelsea Handler show buying me drinks. Then my massage therapist gave me a free massage the other day because I lended an ear to listen to some of her personal problems. Now, the free coffee. What is this world coming to? Who do these generous people think they are? And, who of you, and I mean who of you is going to pay my mortgage this month?

Wish me luck on my 20 miler this weekend. I had it all mapped out on back dirt roads until we got major snow today. Now what’s a girl to do? Will she ice bath or won't she ice bath? Will she wear any clothes this time, or will she free ball? (What is the female equivalent of "free ball" anyway? Loose lip? Feel free to comment about that one).

Misszippy is doing a great giveaway on her blog for the new book Run Like a Mother that comes out 3/23. Also on her blog is an interview with the author.

Drinking: H20

Review: Ryders Sunglasses

Running tip: Buy running clothes you like. This may sound obvious, but you're probably more likely to be motivated to run if you have something to put on that you feel good in. If this is a sparkly bright red thong, so be it. Your neighbors will love you for it.


A few weeks ago, this seemingly cute and very smart guy, Devon, contacted me from Outside PR wanting to know if I could review a couple of running products. I know he is smart because he used big words I didn't understand in the email. I know he is cute because he was witty and works for a cool company. Those people are always cute.

I hate getting stuff for free, especially running goods, but I said “yes” anyway. Outside PR is an agency that represents such favorite products as Road I.D., Sugoi, GU, Go-lite and Ryder’s Eyewear.

By the way, I’m kidding. Like any breathing human, I love free stuff. I will review a business card, a Frisbee or a plastic cup with your university logo on it if you send it to me. You can only imagine the goody bag I bring home from a marathon expo.

Last week I got these Ryder’s sunglasses* in the mail:




Yes, that's a cut on my finger. Wanna see it up close? Wanna see what a sucky camera I have? That could just be a smile I made with a red Sharpie, but it really is a wound from a knife. Cutting apples can be very dangerous.


Fortunately, because I am in the last two months of marathon training and I am running so much I almost despise it (oh, stop your gasping, you feel that way sometimes too), I had ample opportunity this week to give these shades a whirl. Also, fortunately, the sun had finally returned from its long hiatus to Tahiti or Hawaii or wherever the sun hangs out when it’s not around here (okay, calm down, I know the sun is just behind clouds or going down on Elton John – “Don’t Let the Sun Go Down On Me…” which could very easily be “Don’t Let Your Son Go Down on Me”, but that’s another post).

Previously, I was sporting the Wal-Mart special aerodynamic glasses (I think Kara Goucher wears these too), and it was tough to think of parting with them, especially since they cost $4.99. Devon gave me some options to pick from on the Ryder website from the Adrenaline collection. It is not an easy thing to pick sunglasses without trying them on. That means you can’t look at yourself in the mirror and make faces and pull your hair back and in front of your face and pretend you are running by jogging in place. Or maybe I just do that.

In any case, I chose the Sprint model in black with a grey lens. I chose them because they will make me look hardcore and will make me a better runner. In reality, I thought they were a good looking pair of glasses, with that athletic vibe. I also liked the option for the grey lens as that’s my color of choice in sunglass lenses. I prefer to see the world in hues of grey because it is uplifting. Here’s the actual description on these glasses:

FRAME: MATTE BLACK, DURAFLEX
LENS: GREY, VENTED, POLYCARBONATE, 100% UV PROTECTION
TINT: 15% VLT
FIT: MEDIUM
FEATURES: ADJUSTABLE ANTI-SLIP NOSE PADS, ANTI-SLIP TEMPLE TIPS
PRICE: $39.99

The lenses are shatterproof, scratch resistant and provide 100% UV protection. All glasses have anti slip and adjustable nose pads. The temple tips are also anti slip.

After a couple of runs in these glasses, I found I really liked them (and not just because they were free). I liked them because I did not notice them. To me, not noticing things on my body while running is a good thing. I hate having to mess with anything during my runs, especially if it’s because it’s uncomfortable, annoying, or not performing its function properly.

Essentially, the glasses did their job: stayed in place, provided protection from the bright Colorado sun, and were lightweight enough that I didn’t feel them on my face. They reduced the glare, but were not so dark that they distorted colors or kept me from knowing when the light was green at the crosswalk (this is important if you want to live during your run). The price isn't bad either ($39.99 or free if you're me).

Next up in a future post will be my review on the Race + Recovery Compression Tights from Sugoi. To wet your pallet, expect to see me in the tightest tights you’ve ever seen. As in, I could put on high heels, get a perm and be slutty Sandy at the end at the end of the movie, Grease (if only I could sing, was gorgeous, smoked and came from down unda').

Drinking: H20

*Outside PR sent me the product for free to review on my blog (courtesy of Ryders Eyewear). I did not pay for the item or exchange any favors for it.