Convert to Skirt!

Addicted to the skirt? You be the judge.



I have been wearing sport skirts for about a year now. They are the MOST comfortable thing to wear...ANYTIME, ANYWHERE!! I wear them for everything. I've even worn them to work. (I'm certain they are in direct violation of our very strict dress code but some mornings after getting up at 3:30am and getting on the ice by 5:15, I just can't get myself into a suit.) [I also prefer to wear other skirts instead of pants...hips and thighs go better in skirts than pants. Even so, I think if you try the skirt, you will love it.] Does having 28 sport skirts classify as an addiction? 6 black. Three taupe. Six in shades of pink. One teal. Two blueberry. Is there a support group for this?? OH YES THERE IS! Read on, friends! (Outdoor Diva Sports is working on a story about my love of the skirt for their website. I'll keep you posted.)

Lo and behold, there is a woman who is more committed to the skirt than me. Hard to believe. But true. She started a company that makes all kinds of cool sport skirts. They cost a fortune so I'm guessing she's nearly a millionaire by now. The bulk of my collection was acquired off the clearance racks at Target and SportsAuth. She's from Boulder, CO. Not surprising. She also started a 5k race called the SkirtChaser where the women get skirts instead of race shirts. All the women start the run 3 minutes before the men and then the men go and, yes, chase the skirts.

I signed up for the run and convinced four of my friends to do the same; of which, only one of them was a runner. They are such great friends to come join me and wear a cute skirt, it didn't matter to them that they had to run 3.2 miles. "Do you run, Knight?" "Only when chased." Following my marathon training??? Read on. If not, you won't care about the rest of this crap. This is the first race in a LONG time that I didn't stop for a port-o-john. Not because I didn't have to...but because THERE WEREN'T ANY!!!! What the hell? Who has a race with 866 runners and NO port-o-johns???? Crazy. Maybe that's why I hurried to the finish in 26:13. Hmmmm...good strategy? No. Absolutely not. Not recommended. (I didn't eat bananas at all that day. Learned that painful lesson. I ate mostly plain oats. Nuts. Lots of water. An apple. Nothing too crazy. Still haven't quite figured it out. Only five weeks left. ARGH!!!!) Officially, I finished 126th out of 609 women and 192 out of 866 total runners. Rumor has it that when the men caught a skirt, they were supposed to slap it on the toockus. I didn't see, nor receive, any slapping. I take that personally! Why have the rule if you're not going to enforce it?!?!

Is this really not funny???

Seriously, I need a funny-check....

About six months ago, Honey came out of the kitchen holding a little piece of foil. It was the foil from the lid of my quart box of soy milk. (Hey. Don't knock it until you're tried it. It is YUMMY!) He carried it all the way back into the master bathroom where I was getting ready for work. He said to me, "You know what really bugs me? When you leave these little pieces of foil on the counter." I giggled. I had probably left them on the counter, maybe twice, three times at most. What made me giggle is that OUR KITCHEN WAS A DISASTER AREA at the time. The sink was full of dirty dishes. There were cans and glass bottles and newspapers, all needing to go to the recycle bin out back and the table was COVERED with his mail from the past oh...6 months. Yet, it was the little tiny piece of foil that I forgot to toss in the trash that bugs him??? It's not like I drink a box of soy milk a day. It takes me about 5 days, so it's not like they were building up. AND...I wasn't finished in the kitchen getting my lunch together, so I was going back in there and would most likely have seen it and thrown it away.

Okay. Fast forward to yesterday. I have been saving up these little foil toppers for the past three months. I've been hiding them in a secret place until I had enough to completely cover the little cutting board that resides on the counter...the scene of the crime six months ago when I left that little one by accident. Yesterday I decided my stash was a-plenty so I hatched my plan. I wrote a sweet little message on a Post-it, put it on the cutting board and then covered the cutting board with the little foil toppers. The whole while giggling like a little school girl.

When I got home, nothing. The cutting board hadn't been touched. It was as if he missed it completely, which would have been impossible. Well, being the impatient person that I am, I called him. I slyly asked him if he found my secret sweet note. He said, "What note?" I said it was hidden someplace funny....he said, "No." So when he came home I said, "HEY! Did you NOT see the funny little foil thingys on the cutting board???" He replied, "Yeah, I saw them but thought it was kind of crazy and a little schizophrenic..." He didn't even crack a smile.

"I mean think about it, you never hear the word "oy" and not smile. Impossible. Funny, funny word. "Poodle" is another funny word. Very funny. I know. Funny is funny. This isn't funny. I am now desperate, lonely and a criminal."

Driving in my car...

This is my lovely PudgeMobile. (I bought this car a year ago, off the lot with 7 miles on the odometer after my Honda crapped out on me going 70mph on I-70 in rush hour traffic, in the left lane, in 90 degree July heat. Oh, I was also in my business suit rushing to an early evening hockey game.) He is so named (if you know me, you know my auto always has a name...makes it more personable, I find, when you're trying to coax them out of a snow drift, up a big hill, or to keep running on a tank that clearly has been on E for awhile.) because of the last three letters on his plates: PUJ. Gawd bless the DMV.
Here's that story, sorry if you've already heard it ("Skip to the end.":


In September last year (Crap! That means my registration is due again...ARGH!), the DAY my temp tag expired (thanks to an ass at the dealership sitting on my paperwork) I made it to the DMV at 4:55, five minutes before they locked the doors. Funny, if you show up with five minutes to spare, you don't have to wait in a long line, at least on that given day. The first issue was when she told me it would be $575. Um, huh? It's not a fancy-schmancy race car or luxury SUV. It's a freakin' Subaru Forester. Then, the clerk hands me my plates. I look to see xxx-PUJ. Here's the last of our conversation, after I picked my jaw off the floor post check-writing:


Me: "Um, P-U-J? Really? I have to have 'pudge' on my plates for the life of this car?"
Clerk: "What? Oh. Yeah, well, at least it doesn't say F-A-T."
Me: "Good point. Hadn't thought of that..." How do you argue with that logic???


Not only is the Pudgemobile a rock magnet, it also came equipped with an invisibility cloak. I shit you not. About a month after buying him, a big truck kicked up a rock and dented the hood on the passenger side. About six months after that, a Jetta kicked up BOULDER and put a HUGE dent smack dab in the middle of my hood. That rock was so big I thought it was going to shatter the windshield. And, about a month ago, a Ford pickup kicked up a rock and cracked my windshield. As for being invisible...it has to be the only reason I am constantly being cut off, cut in front of, and generally ignored on every street in Denver, interstates included. Today I was driving on I-25 then I-70 to skate and I was cut in front of no less than six times, and TWICE people randomly just took over my spot on the highway as if I didn't even exist. Good thing I have cat-like, lightning-fast reflexes, and the Pudgster maneuvers so well or we would have been squished Subie and that would make me sad.

And this past Sunday ushered in the end of an era: my sweet, sweet Toby was sold to a high school student, who just so happens to be H's niece. Toby was my very first brand-spankin new car. I bought him at Bitterroot Motors in Missoula, MT, in October 1996 shortly after a psycho bitch driver totalled my Subaru Outback.

Toby is a forest green Corolla and possibly the most dependable and reliable car in the world. Why, why, why would I sell him???? I don't know. I sold out for an AWD and my first love has always been a Subie. I bucked it at first but then....the Tax Man cometh: cue ominous music and nasty letter from the IRS demanding $13,400. (Cue crying and sadness.) That's no typo folks. And certainly deserves it's own post at another time...

Honey drives away in the Tobster to deliver it to his niece, whom I will be teaching how to drive the 5-speed manual transmission this weekend.

Out with the Scoot...In with the Cruiser!

So after riding 36.6 miles all around Denver in the Urban Assault Ride (stay tuned), something donned on me...I can get anywhere I need to go, ON MY BIKE! Which means, free parking, no gas, no enviro impact, and an extra workout. Four great reasons to sell my sweet, sweet Scooter-Love and get me a cruiser.

I often do things out of order and with no patience for waiting, I skip to the fun part. "I hate waiting." True to form, I haven't sold my scooter yet, but I did get me a perdy new cruiser. Check it out!

This sweet ride is the Townie by Electra. It's the original "flat-foot" aluminium cruiser, meaning, when you sit on the seat, your feet are flat on the ground. It is a 21-speed haulin' ass machine! Sadly, the pix does not do the color justice. It's a magical, wondrous, shiny pearly purple. As quoted by some guy at the Walgreens yesterday, "Dude, I love your bike. It's like, candy apple purple. Way cool." My response, "Thanks, man."

And what does every girl need when she gets a shiny new cruiser??? A hip new helmet to sport! I certainly can't be wearing my Giro helmet that's built for speed when I'm cruising on my Townie. Right? Right!

This picture is for Coach. It's a little blurry, but it says on the back of it, "I LOVE MY BRAIN." Get it? Got it? Good!

The wire basket for the front and the streamers for the handle bars are on special order. Then it will be way tricked out!!!

Know anyone looking for a Piaggio LT50...low mileage...

Where the HELL have I been???

In the freakin' penalty box on a three-month blogging hiatus. It has come to my attention that I need to return to the blogoshere to release the demons that have taken over my brain.

It has been a BUSY three months. "There is too much. I will sum up."

May

• Played in FOUR hockey tournaments. Took 1st, 3rd, LAST, and 2nd places. The quad-fecta!









• Took an Indian cooking class. Very fun, and tasty, too! Mmmmmm...mangos....I mostly wandered around and let the other students cook the food. Never fear, I did taste it all at the dinner party afterwards. "You can really taste the chutney in dat one!"
• Ran the Bolder Boulder in the cold rain. Had great times for miles 1, and 4-6. Qualified to be in the top wave next year. THANK GAWD! Waves are A-JJ, or something like that. I was in wave HC. That is just too many people in front of me. GET OUT OF MY WAY PEOPLE! I'm trying to get to that port-o-john.

June

• Wrote an $11m grant, and two $2m grants for work in two weeks. There is no picture that can sum up that fiasco.
• Saw Ira Glass at Colorado College in the Springs. Highly recommend! If you've never heard him, go to http://www.npr.org/ and download some of his shows called This American Life. It is worth every second.
• Ran the Summer Solstice 5k in City Park in 28:40. This run is for skin cancer awareness. This is the finest example of foreshadowing I have ever known. More on that later. This run is at 6pm on a Wednesday. Who has a frickin run at 6pm in the middle of the week? People who don't work for a living. It's at City Park and there is NO PARKING at City Park. I ended up parking at the Natural History Museum and RAN about a mile to the start and got there AS THE GUN WENT OFF!!! That was a good warm up.
• Coach crashes motorcycle. Wear a helmet next time, dumb ass! I should have taken a picture of his road rash on HIS HEAD. Dumb ass.
• Jules' wedding. Good time had by all. Bon fire was a sight to see! "Check out these girls!"

Ann visits for DanskiTri. We've been friends for 21 years. That makes our friendship old enough to drink alcohol.

July

• Camping in southern CO with H, ABC & CBG + 3 dogs. Torn left quad muscle dampens the weekend. Although, I didn't have to be on camp set-up or take-down duty, so that's the plus to that story.



• P visits with sweet Norah. They are currently living in Singapore, which she delightfully calls Asia for Beginners. We've been friends for 25 years. Wow. That is a l-o-n-g time.










• Drums Along the Rockies at Invesco Field. Once a band geek...ALWAYS a band geek!

• URBAN ASSAULT RIDE - this will have it's own post because it deserves it!
• Curtie visits. We have been friends for 27 years. HOLY HELL that's a LONG TIME. He gets me with a Soup in the Bun surprise. DAMN HIM! He is one of the funnest people I know. I always have a great time with him and he always makes me laugh, even when there's nothing funny.

August

• Senior Open golf tourney in the Springs. This event had more rules and n0-n0's than any other even I've ever heard of. No cell phones, no cameras, no water bottles, no food, no signs or banners, no breathing...just kidding. Here's a tip: the best cell phone holder in the world is my bra. I always carry my phone, in my bra. So that's how I snuck my phone into this posh event at the Broadmoor in the Springs. What is the ticket taker going to do? Ask me to feel my breast? Ask me to strip down? Not going to happen. He didn't say anything, other than, "You can't take that food into the tournament." I had 2 Lara Bars, and 2 Honey Shots in my purse. I was ready for my "special needs diet" speech and 30 seconds into it he realized he didn't want my coma/death on his head so he said, "Okay, you can take them in, but just don't throw the wrappers on the ground." WHAT THE FUCK? That's why you won't let me take food in? Litter??? Um....they were selling all kinds of junk food with more litter possibilities than my little fruit & nut bars had. What really killed me is that we weren't allowed to take in water bottles. Well, it was 92 degrees out that day with clear skies. They were selling 20oz. water for $4.50, and not a drinking fountain in sight. We were there for six hours and walked more than 6 miles. Unless I wanted to invite heat stroke into my list of ailments, I needed to drink more than one bottle. I spent $36 on water that day. Shouldn't I at least get a share or two of stock in Coca-Cola for that price??? Last pro-golf tourney I go to. (We all look fairly pleased to be back at the house where water is NOT more expense than platinum.)


• Separated shoulder. To add insult to injury, the girl I chased down, took my stick, dropped it, got the shot off on my goalie and I got called for HOOKING!! (Not THAT kind of hooking.) It must have been mind-fuck hooking because the last time I checked, you had to have your stick in your hands to hook someone, and mine was a good 10 feet from where I crashed into the boards.
• MUDDY BUDDY - this will be posted with the UAR. This, too, is an event worthy of a separate post.
• Skin cancer. Morpheaform basal cell carcinoma. ON MY NOSE. I've heard third nostrils will be all the rage in 2009. Maybe I can just stick a hoop in it and it will look like a cool nose-ring that I put there on purpose.

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