Living vicariously through Bob Costas

 

It has been 8 weeks since I have even entertained the thought of physical activity and I am now beginning to really want to be able to run.  My feet still hurt like a mother, but my brain needs to get out and run.  I am going to get serious about getting better, instead of hiding in my injury induced depression eating homemade buttercream icing on graham crackers. (Don’t judge my coping mechanisms.)

 

I am so super excited for the Olympics this summer.  I’m thinking of taking a leave of absence from work in order to not miss a minute of coverage from London.  On second thought, I think I should probably just travel over there to make sure I get a proper handle on things.  A last minute ticket to London couldn’t be that expensive could it.

 

 

Or not..

 

Well, I guess having Bob Costas live my experience for me will have to do.  Maybe seeing all those athletes will get me inspired to be slightly less of a slob.  Or maybe not…  If only there was an Olympic event in number of cupcakes one could consume in 1 minute.  I’d totally win.  Don’t ask me how I know that I could eat a large amount of cupcakes in a small amount of time, just trust me.

Back in the saddle

 

This week has not started out great as the wave of sickness crashed over from last week.  I did manage to get to the gym after work on Tuesday and run 2.5 miles on the treadmill before I went home and collapsed from my 16 hour day.  Then today I decided to attempt something a little different.

Since the cortisone injection last week I’ve been pretty hesitant to run.  Lets just be honest, I really don’t like pain and that injection made my foot feel pretty darn good.  But I swallowed my fear today but decided to run on the trail.  It’s a nice paved trail that I used a lot last summer.  But unlike the back woods country roads I have been running on lately it’s flat.  And by flat I mean I don’t feel like I running on the side of a mountain with my ankles bent in funny directions.  And you know what, my feet felt all the better for it.  I had to stop around mile four when the pain started to twinge and I didn’t want to do the tough guy thing and “push through it”.  I need to listen to my body more often.  I still took it at a snails pace but I felt great through most of the run.  And I’m glad cause I could really use a good run now.

Anyhoo…….

So I guess the new trend for the masses is to wear the skinny jeans in a bold color.

Great, another trend that 80% of women can’t/shouldn’t wear.  Why don’t we accentuate large calves and big thighs or muffin tops by planting a big caution sign on them.  I’ve attempted to try these types of jeans on and it’s not pretty.  Most of the time the calf of the jean is so tight that in order to find a size that fits that body part it makes the top of the jean huge.

Just cause it buttons doesn’t mean it’s your size.

Nothing like resembling a stuffed sausage!!!  I just want to be fashionable without having to adopt anorexia as a lifestyle change.  I like cupcakes and want to continue to eat them at my leisure.

Don’t make me choose… because the jeans will loose every time.

Maybe someday it will be fashionable to have large muscular legs and some brilliant designer will make some pants that make them look good.  Just a dream, I suppose.

You better read it!!!

The Hunger Games opens tomorrow in theaters.  Get pumped cause we are going and you are gonna love it.

Surprise…

 

There was a time that I had considered myself to be an observant person.  But apparently my grey and aging brain has lost a step.  Crap!!!  There were so many signs earlier in the week, stupid questions from friends, shady dealings with the husband, and people being weird.  I should have seen it coming.  I should have known…

 

 

I didn’t exactly have the reaction that my husband wanted.

 

Big D was pretty bummed that my first reactions was a poor one.  Let’s just be honest, I was a little pissed off.  He took me to dinner and fed me a line about wanting to stop by a party for a friend and that we would just make an appearance.  Well much to my horror I walked into a room filled with a bunch of my so called “friends”.  A real friend might have tipped me off so that I could have washed my hair!!!

Kathy, I know my hair was bad, but you could at least open your eyes and pretend I look good.

Same goes to you Cheryl!!!

At least there was cake.

And this isn’t just any cake, its “Joanne” cake.  Joanne is my best friends mom, who makes cake of many sorts.  In fact she made my wedding cake.  I would do devious things just to get a piece of this cake.  So at least this party had a redeeming factor.  My family also showed up to rub my age in my face.

I don’t understand why my brother couldn’t drive from Florida for this party???? And hey there grizzly Adams.

Smile now.  You know what payback is like?

I have to say that over all I had a good time.  Yes it was a rocky start but I woun’t kill anybody just yet over it.

Don’t do it, you can still eat cake.

I’m just going to have to hone my observation skills and prepare for a counter attack.  You will never know when it will happen oh, husband of mine, but it will happen, and it will be swift and you will be surprised!!!

Rub it in my face, will ya?

Look out 31, here I come.

Let them eat cake

 

Monday was the last day that I ran. Tuesday through Thursday were devoted to a funeral and I have no excuses for Friday other than sheer laziness, lack of desire, and every growing apathy.

Me too little girl, me too.

So today I was out of reasons not to run.  I decided to make it treadmill time because I couldn’t possible carry a water bottle and chap stick at the same time as running.  I might trip and fall and ruin this delicate face.  I do have a modeling career to think of.

Almost got the money shot! Better luck next time.

I was pretty surprised with myself that I managed to run 4 miles without resting.  Now it did take all of 43 minutes to do it, so you know I was moving at the speed of light (or pudding).  I also listened to music while running today which I haven’t done in awhile and I was surprised at how much better it makes a run for me.  I get lost in my own little concert and before I know it 10 minutes have gone by. (Don’t worry the shiny is gonna fade off this realization and I will go back to hating running again.)  At least its done for the day and I can get on to complaining about other more important things like this.

 

There was a woman in the locker room who apparently thinks she lives here and can put her crap where ever she wants.  There are free lockers to use in our locker room all you have to do is bring a lock and then take your lock and stuff home after working out.  But no, lets put our junk in just the position that people will not be able to utilize this bench to put on their shoes or for pity sake take a rest.  And let’s make sure its sticking all the way out so people will not feel comfortable moving your crap to make room for their backside.  At the very least shove it all the way back so people don’t have to look at your unmentionables.

 

One of my best friends mom’s makes wedding cake (she even made mine).  And growing up I remember being able to go over to her house on any given day and looking in the fridge at the ginormous bowl of buttercream frosting.  We liked to take said frosting and make a sandwich out of two soft chips a hoy cookies.  Oh, how delicious, I miss it so much.  Well, when I talked to my own personal cake maker at the funeral she said she had a surprise for me and my sister.

She baked us each our own 6 inch round cakes of delight.  I’m currently applying for a license to marry mine.  She knows me so well, what else can help grief like cake?  Nothing, that’s what!  I really need to live closer to her so that I don’t have to drive 2 1/2 hours to get the confectionary treat.

Now excuse me while I go polish off the rest of the cake before my children or husband sniff it out and steal it.