You gotta have faith!

"I'm losing my faith in humanity."

Sometimes good guys do finish first.

The nice guy ends up with the nice girl.

Bad guys get what they deserve.

No animals die.

There's enough of everything to go around.

Life is fair.

There's plenty of creamer for the coffee.

I make the right choices.

We all get the sleep we need.

We all get the love we need.

I believe in happy endings. I do. But don't tell anyone. If there is no happy ending here, someone is in BIG FAT TROUBLE!
...or...we should make our own happy ending and call it a day.

"...to hell with humanity. I say, we take it. We just take it over for ourselves!"

A quote for Wednesday:

"A couple hundred years ago Benjamin Franklin shared with the world the secret of his success. Never leave that 'til tomorrow, which you can do today. This is the man who discovered electricity; you'd think we'd pay more attention to what he had to say. I don't know why we put things off, but if I had to guess it has a lot to do with fear. Fear of failure, fear of pain, fear of rejection. Sometimes the fear of just of making a decision. Because... What if you're wrong? What if you make a mistake you can't undo? Whatever it is we're afraid of, one thing holds true: That by the time the pain of not doing the thing gets worse than the fear of doing it, it can feel like we're carrying around a giant tumor. And you thought I was speaking metaphorically... 'The early bird catches the worm.' 'A stitch in time saves nine.' 'He who hesitates is lost.' We can't pretend we haven't been told. We've all heard the proverbs, heard the philosophers, heard our grandparents warning us about wasted time; heard the damn poets urging us to seize the day. Still, sometimes we have to see for ourselves. We have to make our own mistakes. We have to learn our own lessons. We have to sweep today's possibility under tomorrow's rug until we can't anymore. Until we finally understand for ourselves what Benjamin Franklin meant. That knowing is better than wondering. That waking is better than sleeping. And that even the biggest failure, even the worst most intractable mistake, beats the hell out of not trying."

PostSecret

by Frank Warren

"Can I tell you a secret? I'm gonna keep one."
Next time someone tells you Frank is in town, GO SEE HIM! You won't be sorry.

"You know, I think when the person writes Anonymous, their identity should be kept secret."

"Do you think it would be so bad if they knew? Keeping this secret seems awfully complicated."

Holy Sneak Shitballs!!!

"Prepare ship for ludicrous speed! Fasten all seatbelts, seal all entrances and exits, close all shops in the mall, cancel the three ring circus, secure all animals in the zoo!"

Today was the 26th Annual Cherry Creek Sneak in Denver. I ran the 5 mile in 47:40. What is most noteworthy is that I ran mile 5 in 7:39. 7:freakin39!!!! I have never broken 8:00....I think I could have run a faster total time if I didn't have to leave my breakfast by the side of the road just before the first mile marker. That first mile was a killer.

Clearly, I was optimistic...I lined up in the 7:01-8:00 min/mi wave. I usually do this to get away from stroller-pushers and walkers. I guess I almost actually belong in this wave now. Tee hee.




Lessons Learned & Observations Made:
1. Great race that's about two miles from my house: can sleep later the morning of! Parking sucks, though. I just made it about five minutes before the horn because I had to park almost a mile away. At least I remembered where I parked the PudgeMobile after the race!
2. Very flat course with less than a mile on concrete: good for shins and arches.
3. Cereal and coffee two hours before, not a good choice. Didn't even go near a banana. Some lessons I learn the first go-round.

4. If you lose 110lbs., you can run 8:00 miles. Last time I "ran" this race was in 2006. I think I logged 14:00 min/mile. That's cutting some serious time!

5. I don't think I'm a good runner but I always believe I'm going to finish every race.

6. My secret dread is finishing dead last. I think I'd better be dead if I finish last.

7. I feel SO great when I see the FINISH banner ahead of me. It's a feeling unto its own. Makes it very easy to sprint the final 100 yds, or so.

8. I run to escape the stress around me and noise in my head.

9. When elating to ABC about my 7:39 mile, H said, "Duh, you're in great shape...better shape than you think." [!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

10. Finishers get a boatload of schwag in a handy reusable bag: samples, food, drinks, beer (what's with the beer at all these CO races after running before noon????), energy bars, lip stuff, sunscreen, a ton of coupons for more schwag, a free sammie at Spicy Pickle...

11. I like to be the fashion police when watching the other runners. I see some crazy ass outfits running around. Today a gal ran in shiny silver tights, skirt, and tube top. I'm guessing she doesn't own a mirror, or she's stuck in the 80's. I won't even go into all the guys who run nearly naked. That is shit I just don't need to see first thing in the morning...saggy old wrinkly nastiness.

12. This was the first run I did with my new waist pack. It sucked. It holds a water bottle and has a little tiny zipper pocket that basically holds about two TicTacs. Still searching for the perfect running pack.

13. The 5 mile run started last of all the runs, at 9:15. At first I was bitter that the 5K started at 8:30. Why have the shorter distance go first??? Then, when I realized it was 30 degrees at 8:30, I was glad to have an extra 45 minutes for the temps to rise a bit. It didn't rise all that much, though, so I ended up running in tights and a long sleeve shirt. I was sweating like a whore in church by the second mile but got such a cramp in my right quad that I figured if I stopped to take off my tights I probably wouldn't get started again. I did manage to get my long sleeve shirt off at mile 4, just in time to run almost all of mile 5 in the shade. I think that's why I had such a great time in the last mile. I was freezing my noonnies off so I had to hustle to get back in the sunshine...and the Starbucks stand with FREE Pikes Peak blend was CALLING MY NAME! I could smell it the last quarter mile....Mmmmmmm, coffee....

14. This leads me to my last lesson...don't do so many dry-land lunges and squats with weights three days before a run. I probably won't remember this next time. Good thought, though.

15. This was also the last year I run in the 35-39 division. That's a tough nut to swallow.

The race is not for the swift...

...but for those who keep going. --Fred Lebow

"Are you alright, Buddy?"
"I just need some alone time, Papa."

I've been away from the blogosphere. Just trying to figure some things out. I'm back. Things aren't figured out, yet. Alas.

Now that the fall/winter hockey season is officially over for all of my teams, it's time to seriously train for the SanFran Marathon. Apparently, I can't do a long run and play a competitive hockey game in the same day. This seriously messed with my running schedule. I guess I'm not in shape enough. Well, by the fall, I will be. I'll be able to do a 10-miler AND kick ass on the ice. Got the goal. Got the schedule. Now it's time to do the work.

I fully implemented John Bingham's marathon training plan last Sunday and nothing will get in the way now. So, per the schedule, I went for a glorious long run today in beautiful Denver. It was the perfect running weather: not too hot, nice breeze, big blue sky over head, warm sun. Things were great. iPod was fully charged. Shoes felt good. Energy level high. Then at mile 4.3, things went south, so to speak.

Lesson learned:

If I eat this 30 minutes before a run,

I will need to find a

QUICKLY!

And it wasn't until mile 5.7 that I located the green box of hell smells. It was about 80 degrees out today and the park was REALLY busy. Ergo, the portOjohns were busy, too. I feel violated and I may never be the same again. It was a toss up for me: use the green box or just squat in the trees behind the green box. No, the trees wouldn't have offered much privacy, but at least the air was clean. I opted for the green box. Ugh. Just. Nasty. At least there was paper...

I can't decide if the last 5 miles were better or worse post green box experience. I'm thinking of just burning my running clothes and dipping myself in bleach.

Select poignant songs heard on iPod during run today:

Runaway by Bon Jovi

Don't Stop Believing by Journey

Oooh Oooh by Pat Benetar

Sometimes It's a Bitch by Stevie Nicks

Hump Day Wonders

Four innuendos on Hump Day:

"The male erection. Pitchin' a tent, sportin' a wood, stiffie, flesh rocket, tall tommy, Mr. Morbis, the march is on, icycle has formed, Jack's magic beanstalk, rigor mortis has set in, Mr. Mushroom-head, mushroom on a stick, purple headed yogurt slinger... oh, and a pedro."

Today I told a complete stranger that, "I like 'em really stiff. The stiffer the better. You couldn't make it too stiff for me." He didn't crack. Not one giggle. Once out of my mouth, I giggled. He just paused, then continued the conversation.

The color guy, John Kelly, calling the Avs game tonight said, "He just couldn't get it up...", which made me giggle. I'm guessing all my hockey friends giggled when they heard it, too.

The male facilitator on a work project said to me today, "Bettina, you make it so hard. Do you know how hard you're making it?" I laughed out loud. The rest of the group just looked at me.

Coach told me today, "Don't get on top of me!" I just giggled.

Makes me think the people I hang out with have dirty minds and the rest of the world does not. I think the rest of the world might be missing out on something.

Crazy things I learned on Hump Day:

A baby with two faces was born in India. She drinks from both mouths and blinks all four eyes. She only has one brain, though, so when she gets older, will she be able to have two independent conversations? The people in her village think she's a reincarnated Hindi goddess. What a fabulous culture to embrace her and worship her. I believe she would be shunned if she had been born in America. I may relocate to India. Love their food and they don't eat cows, either.

Chinese scientists serenade abandoned wolf cubs to help them learn to howl. One of the only two reasons I love Chinese scientists. That and the pandas.

The kitchen is the dirtiest room in the house. Not just my house, everyone's house. In fact, your cutting board (not mine, I'm sure) has roughly 200% more fecal bacteria than your toilet seat. You're not safe at work, either. There are about 400 times more bacteria on your desktop at work than on a toilet seat.

Here's a little known fact about laundry: washing your underwear with the rest of your clothing can cause hepatitis A and stomach flu from the fecal-borne organisms that burrow into clothing, even during washing. I'm thinking of going to disposable undies or just going commando 100% of the time.

In a study of cyclists who drank chocolate milk after riding until they were energy depleted, they were able to ride 50% longer than cyclists who chugged Gatorade or other sports drinks. Is it the milk or the chocolate?

Fat is the body's back up fuel system. The role it plays in the body is that when there is no carbohydrate around, fat will become the primary energy fuel. Unless, of course, your body is depleted of carbs. Then you burn muscle as fuel. This is bad.

SLEEP: Still not enough. At least I'm not this bad: One of the longest recorded sleepless stints dates back to 1964 (I wasn't even born yet) when a San Diego high school student, supervised by Stanford scientists, stayed awake for 264 hours and 12 minutes--a bit more than 11 days. It was previously believed that going without sleep for so long would cause serious mental damage. (I would argue that those who see me on 0-4 hours of sleep would agree with this.) It proved untrue, however, when the student, who sacked out for 15 hours, returned to his normal waking/sleep schedule with no noticeable aftereffects. That we know of. Oh, and clinical tests revealed that women need more sleep than men. That's because we do more in our waking hours than men do. I'm just saying.

"If I didn't wake up, I'd still be sleeping."

RAM: "Let someone else handle all the tiny details today--you've got bigger fish to fry. Somehow, you need to get a handle on the long-range plans for your family or workplace pretty soon."

Ram: 6

B: 2 (I'll fry 'em, but I'm not eating any fish. I've decided. Just. Can't. Do. It.)

Fish and Fetus

"Repeat after me: Fish are our friends...NOT FOOD!"

So I've taken to seeing a dietitian to help me sort out my inability to eat food and figure out what food I might be able to eat. Coach has me keeping a food log to try to track what works, what doesn't, etc. Today, after being force-fed an egg sandwich (with YUCKY mayonnaise on it!) I was told I basically eat too little of the right things, except for the fruits, veggies, and tofu, and not enough of anything else. (Apparently, protein bars are not meals. Neither are protein drinks. Hmmm...I'll make a note of that.) Then, I was told to EAT FISH. Um, what part of vegetarian are you not getting? Vegetarian - one who does not eat flesh, fish nor fowl.

I ate a couple bites of trout about 32 years ago. Heaved it into the river. Fish smells B-A-D. No getting around it. Fish is nasty. Oh, and it's not just any fish I need to eat. It needs to be cold water wild fish. What the hell is that? I wonder if there's a soy-fish-substitute out there somewhere...

And eggs. I'm supposed to eat the whole egg (with Omega-3), cooked, thank gawd. But yolk and all...ugh. Yolks rank right up there with fish. YUK. It's chicken fetus. I do not want to eat chicken fetus. I can get the whites down by not thinking about what they are and cooking them with a ratio of more salsa than whites, but the FETUS? I just don't know about this.

I also just don't like chickens so maybe that feeds into my dislike of yolks. They are mean-spirited birds. Nasty, mean, bitchy birds. One of my jobs on the farm (yep, born on a farm, most likely retarded...) was to get the eggs in every morning. You need to know, chickens do not fear children. Some of those damn birds wouldn't get off their roost to give up their eggs. Well, they'd get down right snippy with me and I of course, would chicken out. (HA!) Then the eggs would rot, bad things happened, dad yelling like a wild man, blah, blah, me in big fat trouble. So my grandpa says to me, "Just go in, put your hand on the side of the chicken on its roost, and say 'Shoo bird, shoo bird,' as you use your hand to up-roost it." Sure. Good plan for an 8 year old. The next morning my dad says, "Don't you leave one egg in that hen house or you'll be sorry." I sure as hell didn't want to be sorry so I knew what I had to do. I gathered all the eggs the hens had abandoned in their nests and then on to the evil hens who thought those eggs belonged to them. (Wait, um...yeah, they laid the egg, so, doesn't that make it their egg? So, I'm stealing their babies???? I had that very conversation with my crazy gram. She told me she and grandpa owned the chickens so anything they laid belonged to them, not the birds. My grandparents were slave-chicken owners!) The VERY FIRST hen I walked up to, I stuck my hand out, pursed my lips to say, "Shoo bird," and that f*cking bird flew (yes, flew) off her roost and PECKED ME IN THE LIP. "Plugged me clean through." There was a complete hole through my upper lip. I bled like a stuck hog. Needless to say, I dropped the entire basket of eggs and raced into the house, which was a good 200 yards from the coop. I looked like my face had been through the wood chipper: tears, blood (lots of blood) and snot all teamed up to make me a horrific sight that garnered all the sympathy I would need. I never had to get eggs again. I did have to clean the hog pen, though, so, good trade, right?

"So laying eggs all your life and then getting plucked, stuffed and roasted is good enough for you, is it?" "It's a livin'."

I really don't have any traumatic story about a fish trying to bite my finger off...I just think they smell like rotten ass and I'm just not fond of eating rotten ass.

All in my quest to build muscle instead of losing it week after week...fish and fetus. Yum Yum.

"Your ideals and values are on the table now, which doesn't mean that you're shifting gears -- just that you need to make some tough choices. Once you see it all clearly, you should know what to do."

Ram: 6

B: 1

DAMN THE RAM!

Sleep Study: I'm starting FOR SURE tomorrow night...I'm only looking at about 3 hours tonight so that won't work.

Confusion and Morals

Saturday: "You are often the one who starts the ball rolling and today is no exception. Your spirit of adventure is fully engaged and you are eager for new experiences -- so see what kind of good trouble you can stir up!"

Sunday: "You need to stick it out through the current situation, no matter how much you want to cut and run. Your perseverance will pay off in the long run in a big, almost unimaginable, way."

I'm getting mixed signals from my dear, sweet Mr. Ram O'Confusion. I'll give you Saturday but Sunday? I don't think so. I am more of a cut-and-run gal, rather than a stick-it-out gal. By now, he should know that.

Ram: 4

B: 1

Moral dilemma. Moral imperative. What's the gold standard? Who's morals are we being judged against? If it's our own morals and we chose the path we think isn't immoral but it's immoral to others, how can it be deemed immoral? Who gets to judge? Just wondering.

"Life isn't simple, it's complicated. We're all just thrown in here together, in a world full of chaos and confusion, a world full of questions and no answers, death always lingering around the corner, and we do our best."

"To the death!"

"No, to the pain!"

"I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that one."

"I'll explain and I'll be sure to use small words so you can understand."

Innuendo

"Someday, you'll have to make good on your innuendos."


A woman who just ordered a shot of tequila at a bar in Cherry Creek (Funny, it wasn't GKL...):

• "Just get in me and get it over with it."

On the bench at my last men's game:

• "B came but Will didn't." "I've heard that's a problem with Will!"
• "Boys, be harder on your sticks."
• "I couldn't get it up; too much rubber, not enough wood."

Coach: "I just can't get used to my knob."

Me: "Would some wax help?"

Coach: "Don't come on my face! Come across my face! So rude!"
Me: "Excuse me."

• Coach: "No way. I punch the clock, put my sack lunch on the nightstand and get ready for a full day's work. Sometimes I wear a scuba mask and fins."
• Me: "Wow. So much for research."

Three to 13 Minutes

Here's some light reading for you, from today's Denver Post. It's so delicious, I had to share.

Let love endure, but keep sex short
by Megan K. Scott, AP
Maybe men had it right all along: It doesn't take long to satisfy a woman in bed.
A survey of sex therapists concluded the optimal amount of time for sexual intercourse was
three to 13 minutes. The findings, to be published in the May issue of the Journal of Sexual Medicine, strike at the notion that endurance is the key to a great sex life.
If that sounds like good news to you, don't cheer too loudly.
The time does not count foreplay, and the therapists did rate sexual intercourse that lasts from one to two minutes as "too short."
Researcher Eric Corty said he hoped to ease the minds of those who fret that "more of something good is better, and if you really want to satisfy your partner, you should last forever."
The questions were not gender-specific, Corty said. But he said prior research has shown that both men and women want foreplay and sexual intercourse to last longer.
Dr. Irwin Goldstein, editor of the Journal of Sexual Medicine, cited a four-week study of 1,500 couples in 2005 that found the median time for sexual intercourse was 7.3 minutes. Women were armed with stopwatches.
It's difficult for both older men and young men to make sexual intercourse last much longer, said Marianne Brandon, a clinical psychologist and director of Wellminds Wellbodies in Annapolis, MD.
"There are so many myths in our culture of what other people are doing sexually," Brandon said. "Most people's sex lives are not as exciting as other people think they are."
Fifty members of the Society for Sex Therapy and Research in the US and Canada were surveyed by Corty, an associate professor of psychology at Penn State Erie, and student Jenay Guardiani.
Thirty-four members, or 68 percent, responded, although some said the optimal time depended on the couple.
Corty said he hoped to give an idea of what therapists find to be normal and satisfactory among the couples they see.
"People who read this will say, 'I last five minutes or my partner lasts eight minutes,' and say, 'That's OK,'" he said. "They will relax a little bit."

I have questions.

1. There's a Journal of Sexual Medicine??? How do you get a subscription to that?
2. More isn't better??? Clearly this guy a.) doesn't have orgasms, b.) has never tried Turkish coffee and dark Swiss chocolate, c.) has no addictions, and/or d.) was born on a farm and is retarded.
3. See? GKL, you had it right ALL along! Two minutes is just not enough! You didn't need a research study to tell you that!
4. 1,500 couples signed up to have SEX for research? Why do I never see that add in the paper?
5. Did they get paid for the research?
6. Does that make them hookers?
7. Does that make the researcher their P.I.M.P.?
8. The women were "armed with stopwatches?" [Okay, hon, on your marks...get set...OH! FALSE START!!! Do over.] Did they have starter pistols, too? Maybe just those into S&M got those...
9. "It's difficult for older and younger men to make it last much longer." So...we gals should just keep finding, what, 27-yr olds???? What's the magic age? 24? 29? 34? Is there a range to choose from?
10. There's a "Society for Sex Therapy and Research?" Are they accepting new members? Where do they meet? Hourly motels? How long are their meetings? Between 3-13 minutes?
11. "Most people's sex lives aren't as exciting as they brag about?" [Unless they are porn stars.] REALLY??? Brilliant. This guy is brilliant!
12. Relax. Have sex. Take as long or as short as you like. Why not?

I leave you with these quotes, also quite delicious.

"You know how they say to never drink and drive? Well, never drink and bone."

"Oops. That's not your vagina. That's your asshole."

"…and then your Mommy said, "Just do it already!" which was very confusing to Daddy, so I took the most literal translation."

"Do you want to do it doggie style? You're not going to fuck me like a dog. It's doggie style. It's just the style. We don't have to go outside or anything."