It's been three weeks and I can still remember the night when the noise came back. It came suddenly without any foreshadowing or warning. One day it didn't exist and the next there it was.
I have been ashamed to admit this but I am Post Traumatic Fan Disorder survivor. They say you can move past this that you have to find purpose in your life again. All I want is a night of quiet sleep. One where a noise doesn't haunt me. I feel as if fan lady slapped me with some noise voodoo. Whomever I have angered in life I'm sorry. Please make the noise stop.
I have a month left in my lease. If anybody knows of a quiet peaceful apartment I would be ever so grateful!
(This is my version of my 30 days of thankfulness that's clogging my news feed on Facebook.)
There are moments when you lay on your floor with music playing and you take a deep breath and you realize that in this brief moment you are the youngest and the oldest you are ever going to be in life. What has happened has happened. What will happened is yet to be determined. Where I've been in the moment. I've been on my knees with a hack saw cutting off the chains of the actions of my past. I've been stretching my arms upward to grasp up to the dreams I placed on the shelf years ago and in the current moment I am laying here and I'm thankful for this present moment.
I lay here with my hands on my chest feeling them go up and down breath going in and out of my lungs each one a subtle reminder of that I am the product of amazing planning and fore thought. I am am the answer to the wonderful combination of the spiritual and the physical bodies combined. As I lay here in the twilight the melding of the day and the night watching the shadows stretch further in this moment I'm watching life go on.
As I lay here wrestling with demons of my past I realize that there is nothing I can do to change it. Actions have been done, I have reacted, been reacted on, and I have experienced all those memories once. What was once a noisy crowd of memories crashing over me, I've had to let them crush me with the all of their weight all of their sadness, all of the representations of what might have been, and allowed myself to wallow in the pain of all their sadness.
In this moment I am here in the purple light the perfect combination of shadow and light. I realize that my body loves me and I love it. I realize in this moment this body is the place of where my soul lies. This is the place that will always be my home. I carry my heart and my home with me at all times. The physical body carries me on and in the moment now I am at rest.
With one more deep breath I exhale watching the purple twilight turn into the inky blackness of night. Slowly but surely the planets and the stars begin igniting the night. I have no idea what my future holds. I have no plan now. I have no written shopping list of inspirational quotes of "Families Together Forever" or "I didn't say it would be easy but I said it would be worth it." I know that my future only holds one word. Forgiveness. Forgiveness for the things I've done, Forgiveness for this moment, and Forgiveness for the things I will do. My future holds the combination of light and dark. The metaphor of twilight. The melding of brightness and darkness. The marriage of light and dark.
Truth be told I can only do my best and I've fallen. I've sunk so low and I've flown high and finally I have found the middle. The middle of emotion and thought where the noise of the past and the panic of the future are at the moment silenced.
In this moment I am alive and I am grateful for it. In this moment the word is gratitude. So with every breath I release these words
For November it all comes back to one word. Gratitude. Gratitude for the things I have been given, for the things taken away, and the things coming. Gratitude for the people who enter my life stay awhile and fly away. It's always so and it always will be.
When the time is right I will fly away and somebody else will come and take my place. Before I go I want to say that I am grateful.
Grateful for this wonderful past, for this glorious present and what the future holds.
When you meet Liisa Frei the first thing that hits you is that she's not just pretty face. She's a mother of six. She's an amazing grandmother to three. She's a volunteer. She's a Realtor and businesswoman. She's an Artist. She's a Boston Marathon finisher. She' a type of woman that you would classify as STRONG.
But even strong people are susceptible to nature. On Sept. 10th an unusually strong rain storm caused the 93 year old Santa Clara dike to breach and spew mud and water through out the community below. In path of the dike's water ramapage was Liisa's family business Dutchman Market a small convince store. In a matter of minutes red clay like mud and water destroyed the whole interior of the building.
The last few years have not been the best years ever for the Frei's family. Liisa's husband battled colon cancer and they just recently they lost their dream home. Liisa's attitude has always been Let's push on through it. Cause she' the type of person to open up her house to her gymnastic coach during the last year of his life when he had nobody else to turn to.Or when her nephews were having serious issues with school she allowed them to live with them till they were able to get things figured out.
Liisa is the type of woman that you want on your committees, your son's softball team and most importantly you want her to be your friend. Cause even with all of the craziness that comes with her life she's the type that will take a few minutes to see how you are doing. She's the one you want on your committees cause to her nothing is impossible. If its something that benefits the community she is there in full force smile on hand.
After assessing the damage of her store this is what she posted on facebook:
"Thanks to all of you who helped shovel mud...and all of you who called with offers of help and support... we were literally flooded twice today once with mud and water once with loving hearts and hands...The Frei family loves you all!"
Every status and update of this flooding she's always grateful to thank everyone and focusing on the positive even when ripping the down walls and hauling out damaged and ruined inventory each morning since the flood has been focused on thanking those who have helped or just stopped by or sent money.
Why should you care?
Because sometimes great people need help. Sometimes they need random strangers to help them to continue to provided kindness in the world. If you are in the Santa Clara area stop by. Shovel mud. Bring food. Or a generator. If you aren't close and you got some extra quarters rolling around please donate at Dutchman's fund. This account is through Paypal you can even claim it on your taxes!
Here's some pictures
The water and mud
The water was so powerful it blew the doors off.
During the flood
Please help. Even if all you can do is send positive thoughts and prayers every little bit helps.
Has this ever happened to you? Where somebody starts screaming at you, or you are feeling sad and bored and instead of going okay lets DO something you open the fridge you raise your hands and go LET'S EAT ALL THE FEELINGS!
No? Is it just me?
How do you change the sudden feeling of hunger to something more? Cause I just realized that I'm tired of spending all my money on food to make me happy. I'm tired of sitting in my house with the blinds drawn and I'm tired of looking at myself and going well with this stomach I could take some amazing pregnancy shots. You know the type. Where you thrust your stomach out as far as it can go and you do the awkward hand framing moment. I'd take a picture and show you but I'm afraid that you could never get that image out of your head and one day when we are at the grocery store awkwardly picking melons our eyes would meet and we would have to hurry and turn away.
So just when I was ready to browse maternity pants online (Jeans just have no give! Joey from Friends) I realized maybe the food baby that I'm creating is the tumor of lies, anger, resentment, frustration, lies, and boredom that I've been telling my body that I'm okay with. So there is going to be a change a brewing. I watched a video on a lumpectomy the other day in staff meeting (while it was really disgusting and oddly entertaining at the same time) I thought if I was a surgeon would I ignore all this huge tumor or would I do something to save the patient?
I can honestly say that this is not the best year of my life at this moment.( This is not a boo-hoo honey child kind of post btw.) I read once that the moment that when you can't look at yourself in the eye anymore it is time for you to change something. I hate change. I always joke that I'm two steps away from being on hoarders. I hold on to things. I hold on to objects longer than I should because someone I treasure gave it to me. I hold on to letters. I hold on to tee shirts. I hold on to memories. I hold on to people longer than I should. I hold on okay. I'm like freaking Wilson Philips. I will hold on for one more day.
Because I hold on too much to the past that I forget to look forward to the future and find myself in a giant rut of sameness. I like routine but when you wake up and your life is Groundhogs Day one must make a decision. Do you accept the sameness, the comfort of the known area or do you jump off on the boat and set course to the island of uncertainty?
Yet when I look at the moments that have changed my life for the better (AKA USU, Running races, and starting this blog) have come out of pure moments of spontaneous decisions. No time for pro and cons list no moments to sit and go is this good for me? I said yes and let the consequences follow.
I've been dealing with this issue for the last three years. Do I change my life? Is there room for another moment of spontaneous decisions? If so where and what do I do? I wish I could turn my life over to all those well meaning people who say this is what you need to do with yourself and say here's your chance here's three months for you to make all the changes perfect the flaws that you see within me. Go ahead. I'll sit right here.
Sad thing is though I'm not in a Zac Efron movie. I will not be 17 Again. Nor do I really want to be. Here's what I'm proposing to do. I had an a amazing AH-HA moment. One of those moments that makes you sit up, the hairs on your arms tingling with a little bit and you sit up and go okay! I learned from the Oprah preacher from her life class about honesty. Her cohost was Martha Beck who talked about being honest with ourselves. Apparently our bodies don't like to hold on to secrets and lies. It seems our brains get occupied on these thoughts and bury them deep with in us. So the secrets lodge themselves in us the lies sprout little fat cells and become the cancer of self doubt attacking all the positive thoughts, the happiness and soon the conversation that we have within us gets muted.
After this whoo whoo aha moment I realized that I had to focus on three areas in which would allow me to have a real conversation with myself they are 1. The Physical 2. The Spiritual 3. The Mental. I'm not going to publish what those individual goals are. but those are the areas I'm changing.
Apparently I'm having a Good Bye to Sandra Dee moment.
You know you are going to have a good morning when you wake up and you find yourself belting "SUNSHINE! ON MY SHOULDERS MAKE ME HAPPY!" cause I figure that's what every body in my apartment complex wants to hear at 5:15 in the morning. Why am I so full of song this morning? I'm not sure. I blame the Suave peppermint shampoo. I'm pretending that I live in London and hell. Cause it's so smoggy and hot. What can I say? I've been very bored.
Last night was an epic fail on being a productive human being. Since I'm TV free I don't watch all the fancy TV shows (In Color!) but once in a grey moon when I'm doing laundry suddenly I get sucked into some wonderfully trashy reality show. Last night's down fall was "Project Runway".
Project Runway and I go way back to my Sophomore year in college when Bravo used to do these all day marathons on Friday nights. Now I wish I could say that my Friday nights were full of crazy adventures (most were) however some nights I just wanted to wear my fat pants eat a pint of ice cream and get in bed. I loved it. Loved the dramatic contestants who would design these truly outrageous outfits and be all "No you notice me! I'm an artist!" I found myself saying make it work to my roommates and co workers. The years went by and I lost the free cable and found myself in the cold dark world of being a grown up.
So last night as I was doing the laundry at my grandparent's house after spending all day lounging at the pool I turned on tele-vision and there to my wonder and horror was "Project Runaway." Worse still it was a marathon. Oh goodness there went my day. I had started off with good intentions full of plans to clean and organize and work on creating world peace. Yet instead I spent 4 hours watching crazy artist freak out when they had to design clothes for real people.
Oh reality TV how I have a special place in my heart for you. So now as I prepare myself for work I hear Tim Gunn in the back of my head going "Make it Work." Make me work indeed Mr Gunn.
Wee. This month has not been as exciting as I had planned. When you graduate from school August no longer has any appeal. Its just another hot nasty smoke filled month to get through till fall comes and we can all get back in our fat pants and blame it on the holidays. Or perhaps this is just me?
I need the running inspiration fairy to come visit me. Thanks to the broke diet I've been eating a lot better than I have the last few months. Ice cream and I broke up. We are still friends but the magic in our relationship has well withered. We no longer have to be together all the time. In fact I don't even have any in my freezer and I haven't had any in there for quite a while. Who knew we would end this way? I thought I would just end up like Lenoard (from the Big Band Theory) and become lactose intolerant.
Well that's my update.
Hope that makes you feel better about yourself. If not I'm sorry but its really smokey, hot and I'm bored realizing that my life has become really boring. So if you want to come and cause some big dramatic moment in my life I'd be ever so grateful.
Today you were spotted with the top down on your MINI convertible around 5:30 pm singing "I Want To Dance With Somebody" at the top of your lungs. Though our sources cannot confirm there may have been shoulder thrusting and finger snapping. May we remind you that this is in violation of the convertible code. Please detest this behavior immediately. Last week you were spotted listening to "Like a Virgin" if this behavior continues serious consequences may occur, such as public mocking, honking or worse wolf whistles.
When I was in the 8th grade I asked my sister and mother how does one "dance" at a dance. For my frame of reference was early Madonna videos and old MGM musicals and somehow deep inside I knew that framing my face or "vouging" or attempting a reverse foxtrot waltz wasn't exactly what was suppose to happen at a dance. My sister told me bluntly "With your sense of rhythm the best you can do is hold on the shoulders and push the poor girl around the gym till the song is over." My mom being a little bit more revealing said there are four dances every man should do 1. The Electric slide. 2. Boot Scooting Boogey 3. Heaven forbid the Macarena and lastly though its fallen out of favor 4. The Hustle. She and my sister promptly gave me a quick tutorial in each of those dances. That was the extend of my dancing education. From there I've learned the running man and the sprinkler. What can I say? I'm multi- talented.
So while Karisa and I were traveling around the room we began to observe other dance styles. After a terrible swing dance attempt we both looked at each other with the look of shared understanding. Each of us in some point of our awkward dancing careers had that person who had fallen for the Big Band swing dance craze and taken one lesson and thought they could teach the world to swing! Sadly every time someone either ended up on the floor or with a black eye a mark that some dances are best for Dancing With the Stars or as Karisa put it "What happened in 1944 should stay in 1944".
As the hour winded down Karisa leaned in and said "Just wait till the lights come on there is a reason why they say wait till the lights come on before you get their number". I thought how could this be? All those who were swaying awkwardly making bad conversation (so how are you? What do think of this Dance? Here's my name stalk me maybe?) I thought maybe someone would meet their eternal companion giving the bishop a point on his scoreboard of marriages during his tenure. You laugh but in the last three wards I've been in hidden in each of their offices lies a scoreboard of winners and losers. Every single time they get one married off they get a bonus or something I swear.
Suddenly right at 12 the lights came on and there was a huge gasp! from the whole group the awkward swayers suddenly saw each other in the harsh glare of institutional lighting and the whole here's my number call me maybe moment changes to a the very polite but firm "thanks SO much but I have to be going" and they run back to their various posses to dissect the evening and bemoan the state of being singleness in the car till the various drivers push them out of the car with a sympathetic better luck next time or a walk it off walk it off.
Right after the lights came on they played Fun. We are Young which of course I had to comment on No early Madonna but a song about getting high in the bathroom is the perfect closer song? Seriously? Bad move DJ bad move! What's next promiscuous sex in the parking lot? However they cut the song very abruptly and that last bit of my comment soared through that cavernous cultural hall and I got the dirty Mormon look. The same look you get when you mention feminist, gay and lesbian, or choosing not to have children in Sunday school. To save me from melting deeper into the gym floor a very awkward closing prayer was said and Karisa and I sweaty and giggly from dancing dropped the top off of Bertie and sailed off onto the interstate.
As I looked over I was so grateful to have a friend so sympathetic to my awkward dancing, my sarcastic wittiness, and I felt that tightness in my chest let go. Though it had taken some time I had found a moment to make peace with all the awkwardness, the wall hugging, the feeling of pure torture of my previous high school dances melt away and realized that dances can be fun when you have the right person beside you.
The other glorious thought was that I was in California and I would never see any of these people again but could mock them forever in my memory.
A Socially Awkward Adventure into A Mormon Single Adult Dance
or. What the hell Was I Thinking/High School Flash backs or Why Blake Can't Dance.
An air of perpetual horniness hung about the room. A glaring reminder in the absence of paper streamers that everyone in the gym was a virgin. And was probably going to die as one. As I entered this Josie Grossie * (Drew Barrymore in her finest role in Never Been Kissed) flash back I realized I was in single adult hell. I was at a single's adult weekly Friday dance.
For all of the non Mormons in group the LDS church has created a whole special division focused on the single people from ages 18-30. With hope that we will stare at each other passionately sitting next to each other during church and covertly let our hands touch upon the hymnals get that rather erotic feeling feel guilty and marry and have lots of babies. Its the classic Mormon romance story. Its suppose to be what we yearn for. Hence the reason why I'm standing in this gym with this awkward feeling in my chest. The best way to describe it tight pounding in my chest, can't breathe and the most I can say is Hee. Its like being throwing back into High School with the knowledge that your life didn't change very much. Breathing deeply into my paper bag I begin to survey the room noticing all the various cliques and groupings. In the front of the DJ we have the hipster, popular pretty Mormon girls and boys (yes the majority are blonde 18 to 20 and are here for the summer from BYU or BYU I) and the returned missionaries with the partial mohawks and very tight jeans (which confuses me if they are so tight how will they make those righteous babies? Does not compute!) or in plain high school speak they are the plastics and the jocks.
Several spaces away we have girl posse. The girl posse is a bunch of girls who dying wish is to get married they are the girls whose pinterest boards are flooded with wedding ideas and are sitting on their hope chest waiting for "Mr. Peter Priesthood". The problem with girl posse is that they clump together in one huge mass of desperation that if a girl was singled out to dance the rest of the posse would feast upon her innard like a lions on a lone gazelle. One enters at his own risk. They are however a great source for who is dating who and the stats of all the new members of the wards (they have this information stored like baseball stats.) so a visit to girl posse is worth a hello.
Moving on from girl posse is the Star Wars/Star Trek boy gang. These fellows are the functioning members of the church they do the awkward hand dancing and sway but are friendly they are what makes the church function due to their dedication they do their home teaching, they volunteer for the crappy canning shifts at the food distribution warehouse. Though they have the eternal debate going on about which is more accurate Star Wars or Stark Trek they do try. However they seem to lust after the plastic mormon girls and every time they enter the pretty mormon group they are pushed out of the dance circle with a closing of ranks. No word is ever spoken one minute they are in the circle the next they are pushed out.
On the out skirts are the mini groups of people who came to say hello be seen by the bishopric and then go get drunk at a friends house or move on to more exciting adventures. Then by the snacks lies my kindred the rather obese people whose parents drove them here and so they hurry and eat the store bought cookies and punch in quick motions in order to hide their feelings of self loathing and deep hatred for P!nk.
In the middle of these various circles rises the DJ and the bishopric who watch to make sure all of us keep that air of virginity around us. Some go as far to bring flash lights to single out those who bump and grind just a wee bit too much. A note on the DJ he is only allowed to play clean fast paced techno music, no early Madonna and nothing that mentions "Satan" (Sorry had to throw in a Dana Carvey Church Lady reference).
Karisa and I visit these various cliques saying hello since we are here to be to truly dance. Ever seen my running man? Its priceless. Karisa helps me see that though the activity comittee may try to make me feel low about myself bringing back the feeling of high school awkwardness that a dance is meant to be danced at not to be mocked viciously in my head. However there is a redeeming lesson in here somewhere in this twilight looking gym full of hormones..
I loved this book. I love all books but this one won my book of the summer prize. Every summer I usually have a book or series that has entertained me or enlightened me in some way. So I came up with Book of the Summer prize and I write in them how old I was why I loved the book, etc.
Past book of the summer prizes have gone to The Harry Potter series, Percy Jackson series, the The Hunger Games, and the discovery of witches, the poison wood bible, Bitter is the New Black and many others. So with great excitement comes The Fault In Ou Stars by John Green.
Sixteen year old girl with terminal cancer falls in love with a boy from therapy group. It sounds sad but it's truly funny but also makes you glad you picked it up.
It's a oh my gosh I gotta share this boo kinda book. So there ya go Book of Summer 2012.
The last few Saturdays have been deemed Martha days. With the heat being so awful and I being so lazy in the mornings have decided that long runs shall be postponed until fall.
So instead of eating everything inside my house I decided to change and finish a few items around my house. This is when I discovered my strong love for spray paint and pretty shiny colors. I also wanted to make you feel apart of the process.
Sometimes having writers block sucks because you get these great ideas and then you sit down to write them out and all that flows from my fingers is bleh. So I subscribed to a writer's group that sends out daily writing ideas to spark you into writing. For the most part I avoid them because A.I'm a snot B. Inspiration hits. C I forget what they are and get lost on random tangents. D. I just don't feel like writing. But this week one is partly inspired by Lady Antebellum's song "Dancing Away With My Heart".
The topic was Ten Years Ago I Was...
I was eighteen years old and I had just graduated from high school. When people ask me what my high school experience was like I always tell them I wanted to be EMO but I couldn't afford the clothes. Besides by the time I discovered the EMO movement it would have been really confusing to my college roommates if I ran to my room slammed the door and yelled "Nobody understands what I'm going through!" or sit there with all the chains dripping off me going "If life was so fair why do roses have thorns?" that would have been a just a little sad.
Eighteen was one of those definitive year for me. I was going through that horrible "Who am I? What am I doing with my life" Taylor Swift song lyric moments I was stuck to put it nicely. I was getting ready to go on my mission, working as an ice cream scooper (a rather common theme of my life sadly), and I was living with my parents. All my friends were in college or off getting married, or they just vanished (I don't know what happened to them maybe a random shark attack?). I was to but it bluntly waiting for my life to start.
At this point you are waiting for me to make a big dramatic statement like it was the last summer of my innocence or I really grew up that summer and after my annulment I learned that life is hard. Nope. I learned that I still liked mint chocolate ice cream, floating around in a pool reading a good book, that I don't well with out a project, and I slept a lot.
Ten years ago I was eighteen waiting for my life to start. Ten years later my life started and I like it.
Unless I feel all Taylor Swift like and write some moving country song about my innocent first love and how the semi truck ran her over flat.
(Amy I had to steal your post title. It was too good to pass up.)
I have a new mantra. Its true. I'm not one of those people who carries one around. I collect them. Some fulfill their purpose in certain moments like Go! Diego! Go! only works for me for running long distances. Muttering it to myself at work would only invite awkward glances and the eye avoidance game. Not familiar with the eye avoidance game? Its really simple you stare at someone being awkward and then when they look at you then you glance away real fast. Try it. Super fun. Not.
Anyway back to the life mantra in which I have discovered here it is
" I am not the only one failing to live up to my ludicrous expectations of myself; we all are. So maybe we should all just relax."- Lisa Wolfe writer (Words to Live by O magazine 86)
Lisa has it all figured out. To mean this means it is time for me to delete the unrealistic pintrest boards of the perfect body, toss out the runner's world articles on how to drop my running time, burn the recipe card of time consuming and expensive recipes I'll never try, and to be okay with wee bit of clutter (oh lets be honest its more like Blake the pre hoarder years around here) and the clothes that I bought but secretly hate.
In my mind I thought if I consumed all and created this perfect person in my mind and that some how live up to the perfect person ideal I created inside of my head. I refuse now to berate myself for enjoying a moment on my couch. I worked damn hard for the couch and I'm going to enjoy it. If I on my runs find myself short a mile and I've given it all I'm not going to get all flustered cause I ran 9 miles instead of ten. I will enjoy the time that I spend with friends instead of focusing on the dumb phone call that I didn't get to at work. When I'm at church I will no longer let those who missionary experiences/ dating/ look at me I'm the perfect Mormon instead I shall tell the person he's dating that he has herpes. I won't. But I'll think it and laugh a little.
In this spirit of the independence of our country I'm declaring mine. I am from now on focusing on the life of Liberty,Life, and the pursuit of happiness. My happiness coming from what I have accomplished not my "If Only's". If somebody tries to rob me of my happiness, belittle me or just be a meanie head I shall call them out on it and then say thank you for your opinion and the committee and I shall take it under consideration (I being the committee of course) and get back to you. Then 5 seconds later come back and say the judges and I voted and your mean comment shall not get a rose, shall not be the next top model, but it does qualify you to be a biggest loser and I don't mean weight.
I'd rather spend my life grateful for the things that has given me. When I forget what I have been given I shall take my notebook out and write my blessings and beside it write Thank God. Every time I think that what I have is my own creation I shall try to humble myself and go no wait. Wait a minute all my talents belong to the one created me. I am constantly humbled that God who created the world also created me. If I ever forget this I hope he humbles me enough for me to remember it.
In essence I'm going to try to LIVE my life instead of enduring it. I'm going to paint with all the colors of the wind dang it!
So I'm declaring my independence. Hope you will join me!
Today I had one of those scary moments that happen when you get close to senior citizen status. I wandered on down memory lane. See the other day I may or may not have overdosed on the caffeine (Oh Birthday week you did me wrong) and was so hyper that I felt like running a marathon and cleaning my house. Since it was 11:30 at night and no one was answering their phones. Rude. I decided to self medicate. Or as I like to describe it a Marilyn moment.
So with the with all the uppers and downers in my system I literally checked out. So ready to go on my pseudo acid trip?
With no one answering the phone and me tripped out I whipped out my note book and wrote down all sorts of randoms things. The first three pages went like this " why do they call them pints? They should call them little boxes of happiness coated in sunshine with words like ice cream and sunshine! Sunshine ice cream! that would be a great flavor! Wait but would that make people think of yellow snow? That would be gross. Yellow snow ice cream. You know who I like? Who? Me! Oh you are so sweet left side brain! Thanks right side brain!" and so it goes for another page and a half.
Then I did a dangerous thing. I started writing down all the things I've accomplished in the last ten years. When I was eighteen years old I had just graduated from high school and getting ready to go on a LDS mission. So I decided to write down all the things that I've done that I felt noteworthy. This is the part where you can tune out and come back for the comedic ending. Its okay. I don't mind. Since I don't have kids this is my only outlet to brag a little bit.
1. I went on a mission to O HI O!
2. After that fun little adventure I finally had the guts to move out of Ogden and went to Utah State. In Logan.
3. Worked as Aggie Ice Cream Dairy Lab assistant/Scooper/Sexy guy in a hair net and boots.
4. Got a job as a Resident Assistant for two years worked with some of the most amazing people residents and co-workers included (holla!) for two years!
5. I moved 11 times in four years.
6. I graduated from college! It got me a great job serving food! (What does an English degree get you from USU? A chance to serve food.)
7. Moved out of my parents house officially. Yes that meant both my summer and winter wardrobe live together again.
8. Ran a half marathon.
9. Ran a full marathon.
10. Got a new job as the Front Desk job for Mammography.
11. Sold off the Honda and bought Bertie!
12. Ran three half marathons in 3 months.
13. Gained and lost 60 pounds. Gained 30. cried. working on it again. Whoops.
14. Went on some amazing trips, Alabama, Florida, South and North Carolina, Disneyland, Sacramento, The Sea Ranch, Sun Valley, Sacramento again, Santa Cruz,Hawaii, and now trying to go to Boston.
15. Made some amazing friends.
16. Learned to knit.
17. Started writing this blog.
18. Started thinking about getting married.
So there you have it the 18 things I have learned in the last ten years. After my hyperactive list writing I found myself tangled in the sheets muttering to myself I was so skinny! I was so skinny!
This kids is why you don't do drugs.
Listen to Nancy Regan. Just say no.
(This message is brought to you by the don't write stupid post while high on uppers and downers.)
What can I say? He's super fast on his bicycle and motorcycle. Ever since his accident we've had to keep a helmet on him though. Just Kidding! Or am I?
He's the best Dad that a kid could ask for. Really! Who else would take their kids to a miniature horse show and convince them it was was the coolest thing ever? I realize now that my Dad worked super hard to make sure that my sister had quality time with him. He made sure that we felt loved and valued. My parents marriage may have not lasted but my parents worked hard to make sure that our childhood could be the one of the best ones ever. When I need my Dad I know that he will be there. He has always gone to my super hokey events and never complained about it. He was there waiting for me when I thought I was going to die at the marathon and helped run me in to the finish line. I honestly couldn't have gone that last mile without him by my side.
As I get older I hope that I can be as good as a Dad my Dad was to me.
What can I say? I've got some huge shoes to fill.
Happy Father's Day to my truly awesome father. Thanks Dad for being the best.
I'm going to reveal to you one of the greatest you tube videos ever made. When I die I'm torn on what I want written on my grave stone. For years I've always wanted "That Will Do Pig" from the movie Babe (Great movie about a pig who saves a farm. Creepy talking farm animals who couldn't love it?) inscribed but now after watching this I want "Mini Muffin!" inscribed right under it. So just in case a random bus hits this is how I want my tombstone to look like.
Blake Farr Ure
"That Will Do Pig"
MINI MUFFINS! MINI MUFFINS! MINI MUFFINS!
If I could use a visual representation on what goes on in my brain on a daily basis this video is it. I can't stop obsessing about food. Its constant cravings going on here. When I'm done eating my pints (yes you read that correctly pints) of ice cream I start dreaming of pancakes! Or waffles?! Worse its never cravings for something nutritious like raspberries or a nice green leafy salad. No sadly God did not bless me with those cravings. I eat food like I imagine people who have good sex. Constantly with lots of moaning. But what do I know? This is what I have learned from such educational program such as Grey's, The O.C, Gossip Girl...etc.. Sorry if this is risque but with this heat wave going on in this apartment complex there was bound to be a sex reference to pop up somewhere.
That and my 28th birthday is coming up next Friday. I hope y'all have it circled on your calendars. I'm not sure how I feel about turning 28. I thought I was going to be in a different place than I am in my life. I have a great life.However I'm needing a push, a strike of lighting, a path to open up to get me out of the ruts that I've spun my wheels in. Change comes from within. I've learned that the hard way go up 60 pounds come down 30 and then start climbing back up again yet I'm not going to let it happen again. I've lost too many great pairs of pants in this battle.
Since I keep on losing my point in this essay let me just bring you back on board! Mini Muffin! Mini Muffin! Mini Muffin!
There are certain things from your childhood you carry with you. Like the lyrics to this song. I've never forgotten them. It always seems to come haunt me on those really bad days.
Childhood. Whether it was a good one or one that was featured in a Lifetime movie there is always one element that everyone shares.It's our mothers. Whether she was a good one or a bad one we all have/had one.
I love this song. Its funny but whenever I have a moment in my life that is joyous or overly tragic I always think I need to call my mother. If that makes me a so called "Momma's Boy" so what. When you have such a good friend and companion like my mother she's always on my side. I know I'm never alone in the world cause she's in my life.
Before this turns into an overly sentimental post I realize I'm almost 28 year old and I've taken my mother for granted the work and things sacrificed for me. I can't say anything else but thank you. Earlier in this blog I wrote about my mother's cancer and how it impacted our relationship but now she taught me the most important lesson.
Its better to be Kind.
I can't not though talk about my mom with out mentioning her wonderful mother and my other best friend my Grandma Dar. If its anything I've been twice blessed to have my Grandma in my life. Which makes this post so much harder cause my dear friend is in the twilight years of her life. Life played all of us a cruel joke ten years ago when my grandma memories started to fade. Slowly first. Then rapidly faster. She lives currently in the now. The past has been erased and the future remains unclear. Its hard to see someone you love struggle to remember who you are and finally not realize who you are.
I can't write this with a glossy overview.
There is no oh but we will get by stiff upper lip cheerio attitude.
It really sucks. Like a kick in the pants sucks. Life with no deserts sucks.
How do you say goodbye to the person loves you? How do you let go of the person who has shown you nothing but true kindness and love? My life has been completely changed for the better cause she has been in my life.
My tomorrows have been created because of what's she taught me, what she's shown me, and how she still is still kind. How she genuinely cares how I'm doing. She may not remember what I told her five minutes ago but she still cares and always asks.
Every Thursday she gets her hair done and we always get lunch afterwards. I love spending these Thursdays with my Mother and my Grandma. On the days my Mom can't take her I still take her. We put on Sinatra and its just another wonderful adventure just the two of us. Instead of her telling me her funny stories of her past I tell them to her and she throws her head back and laughs. Her wonderful laugh. Its the kind of laugh that is distinctive and the thing I remember the most.
However more than this I realize she taught me to be kind. My earliest memory of my Grandma is when we were riding in her huge 1976 Cadillac Eldorado down on 30th and Wall. This is a popular hangout for homeless people to petition for help. She went to Wendy's ordered them a hamburger meal and slipped in 20 dollars. Cause he probably would get hungry later she told me. It made a huge impression on me.
It's better to be Kind.
Yet in this twilight hours of my Grandma's life I realize she's lived a full life. A wonderful life. So I enjoy these moments with her. I'm lucky to have her. I'm truly lucky to have such a wonderful mother and grandmother in my life.
Lately I've been asked this question a lot so I figured why not turn it into post? This is my list of things I wish I would have known when I started running, why I started running and what I've learned. Cause to quote School House Rock "Knowledge is Power!" . I make no claims to be a running guru. So take these with a grain of salt.
So how did I start running?
Well three years ago I graduated
from USU in one of the worst economies ever. That was fun. Then I had to
back to my High school job because they were only place that would take
me. So enter sad and depressed fat Blake who lived in his parent's
basement. One day I was cleaning my room and I discovered one of my old
journals from years and years ago and listed was one of those where will
you be at age ___. Well one of my goals was to run a marathon while I
was 26. No this isn't the part of the story where I suddenly started
going out the door and running 12 miles.
Nope. That night I
proceeded to eat my weight in Mint Chocolate Ice cream (with
Sprinkles!). Well at this same time my mom was transitioning from being a
full time mom to a part time one. On a whim she had entered the Ogden
Half Marathon and finished. Then she signed up for another one. At this
point I was watching her train for the Ogden Half in 2010. I realized
that if my 49 year old mom could run why couldn't I? So one day I went
with her and her running group to the Riverdale Parkway.
I could hardly run a mile.
It was awful and I felt like I was a fat walrus. Yet in the moments
when I could run I felt awesome. I liked it cause I felt alive for the
first time in a long time. So with a month and half before the Ogden
half I found a training plan that would help me train for the race. My
uncle had to drop out due to a bad knee so I was sneaking in his spot
(yes the 50 and older group). So I did what I could to train. I went to
spinning. I went "running" I did what call the run walk plan. I would
run to a certain point and then I would walk. When I crossed the finish
line I was so proud of myself for just finishing. After getting my first
pretty shiny medal I was hooked!
So to answer your question. .
Don't defeat yourself. Running is the easiest and hardest sport to
start. You can do this. Let me give you some of the tips I wish somebody
would have told me.
1. Go to a running store and get your
feet tested for the right running shoe. They make you run around the
store and on treadmills and asses what kind of foot type you are. Then
get the good socks. This will make your feet happy. Also ask them if
they have beginning running clinics. Runners want people to be with them.
We are a social/anti social bunch.
2. Invest in comfortable
running clothes. Nothing sucks more than bloody nipples. Its not very
attractive and it hurts like hell. Also bright shiny fun colors seem to perk me up when I go run.
3. I bought one of those
Nike + watches (they cost 50 bucks and really worth it!) so when George
and Martha (my first running shoes and yes I did name them.) and I went
running I could see how far I went. Another perk? It had a really cool
website that when I plugged it in I could set goals and it would send me
texts and emails encouraging me. But there are thousands of phone apps.
I've heard map my run is awesome as well as the live strong one. Now I've graduated to the Garmin. The Garmin makes me cry cause it tells me the accurate distance on how far I've run but its cool cause now I can plan my routes better.
4. Pick a race. I chose races based on A. the pretty shiny medal. B.
Some place that has some special meaning to me and C. Also on if its a
flat course or one on a gradual incline. I would start with a 5k and
work your way up to a half or a full. I jumped right into a half
marathon and it freaked me out a little bit with all these running
Barbies and Ken running so much faster than I was.
5. There is no shame in walking. In fact there is a really popular method called the run/walk method.
6. I love to run with music. It keeps me going. I have a special i pod
called Trixie. Cause my music taste belongs to a 16 year old girl (Spice
Girls be my jam yo!). I put all of the songs that push me. That have a
mellow beat yet fast enough to get me going. However some people like to
listen to themselves breathe. Its a personal preference.
Recruit others to do this with you. And TELL EVERYONE what you are
doing. Hence the reason why Blake Got Fat exists. Not only am I a
shallow and vain individual but allows me to hold myself accountable to
others. There is nothing more embarrassing than running into somebody
who reads your blog and asks you how your running/exercise plan is going
and you look like a fat walrus.
8. Go for ten minutes. If you
are hating life at 10 minutes then walk or do something else. I never
leave the house all YAY! I get to go hurt myself! Its more like but I
want to sit on the couch and watch Gilmore Girl reruns and eat lots and
lots of ice cream. But there is nothing better than coming home and
seeing yourself go I went for a 40 minute run! Or a 3 miler!
9.Do your research. Get all the information you can from other sources. I
went to the Library and checked out all the books they had on running
and picked and chose what would work for me. Also Runner's world .com
became my best friend. Also if you can see if you can borrow somebody's
old copies. This magazine is amazing cause it gears everything to the
beginner to the seasoned pro.
10. Do other things besides
running. I run 4 days a week and go to spinning, swimming, yoga, and
some of Jillian Michael videos. Cross training is your friend. Hike walk
11. Love your rest days. These are the days that I love
cause I allow my self to relax. Also these are the days where I reward
myself after a long run with something good.
12. Come up with your own mantra. Mine is Go Diego go! I blame Dora the explorer.
13. WATER! WATER! WATER!
14. Stretch. I stretch before I go out and I stretch when I get home.
This way I can go up stairs. Also a Foam roller will be your best
15. Let people know where you are going. Go with a friend at night or go to the Gym. Safety first.
16.. Love yourself. This is the most important thing. Nobody cares if
you do this or not but you. Make this fun for you. There is no right or
wrong way to run.
I love running for the fact that it challenges me. I'm not the best but that doesn't matter. Cause when I'm out on a run on beautiful sunny day with my jams playing and I feel happy. Sometimes I have great runs and sometimes I have terrible ones. The fact is that is I'm a happier person when I go.
A couple of months ago I started a feature called "You Matter to Me" like Jorge letters my Latin Kitchen Aid mixer that writes me love letters. What? Your appliances don't write you love letters? Anyway I kept on meaning to do this one and then the whole Fan lady crisis exploded and well this one sat in the draft sections for months. So for you Maren with my deepest apologizes on why this is late.
I almost gave up on blogging.
After I gained the Biggest Loser weight and was going through a hard time at work I figured it was time to save all my post and shut the lights off on Blake Got Fat and shove off to greener pastures. However Maren is one of those people that sees the better characteristics in everybody she meets. She's one of those people who doesn't only see it but she encourages you to push yourself to the higher level of accomplishment. When I was all fat and sad Maren was the type that kept on saying "write! write more!" I'm sure it was for her selfish entertainment but still it was nice to know that there was still one reader who wanted me to succeed. To go further. We all need people like Maren in our lives to push us, guide and direct us.
I can say thank you enough to her for helping me through such a dark time in my life. She's a great friend and Mother.
So Maren again a thousand thanks and you truly matter to me and have made such a difference in my life!
I have a small confession I would like to impart. Its not deeply personal or won't cause a great start. But I have to say with all my heart I'm in love with this song. Ah heck I'm in love with Florence + the Machine. Yes I realize that this video requires a drop of acid but when ever I need a boost during a run or a race for some reason this song comes on and I'm able to push myself that much further.
As I was running late this evening I realized something that I only have 17 days till the Ogden Half. Its kinda crazy to think that I've already ran 2 half marathons before this one. This event is the one that matters the most to me because its my home. Plus running the Ogden canyon is such an awesome experience. I highly recommend it.
So yes. I'm still running and fighting the 30's more on that tomorrow.
Its okay. Cause in a few sentences I will make you feel better about yourself I promise.
This is one of those post that you will read and either hurry and call my mother and report that one of the Mormon Mafia's children has gone rouge. Or you will look at me and go well that make sense . Hopefully you will just go alright. The fat kid really does have layers and working through stuff.
Here it goes.
I'm a terrible Mormon.
Yes along with my food addiction I'm also terrible in my religion. Now don't get me wrong I haven't killed anybody (that you know of) or committed any serious crimes worthy of police intervention. No my crimes lie in another direction. Let me present to you my seven deadly sins.
First sin that I committed: I love Mocha Chillers and Java Chip Frappicinos. This has been well established. Yes I get them with the coffee. Now granted I probably shouldn't drink them walking into a F.H.E activity or into For all of the non members in the group this is a group activity planned by the overly perky non caffeinated young single people every Monday that is planned so that we will pair off date for three days and get married and make lots of babies. The Church kinda looks down on Coffee, Tea, and Alcohol consumption based on the belief in doctrine called the word of wisdom that is suppose to make us strong and happy folk. I know they are full of calories but dang it once a week (oh who am I kidding three days a week) I indulge in the chocolately coffee goodness that is a mocha chiller with a shot of peppermint. It makes me happy and since they have banned smoking at my desk its sometimes the only way I get through a work day.
Sin number two:
I swear. Yes. I use somewhat naughty language. Now this isn't as bad as sin number one but it bares repeating. Sometimes I just have to use the word Hell and Damn. I only use the heavy hitter words once in a blue moon mainly when I've hurt myself so badly that I can't move. See falling in pot hole during race. This is one sin that I actually feel bad about and I've been trying to work on. I try not to swear in front of others. Yet some days I fail miserably. I'm so damn sorry. I try really. Hell. I mean dang. I mean shoot. Ah heck lets just move on shall we?
Sin number three:
I actually let my friends and family who aren't members of the church keep their faith and don't shove mine down their throats. I'm more of a pacifist in the recruitment department. I've got mine and you've got yours. I'm a scholar in this life journey. I don't have all the answers and I love to learn. Some of the best conversations I've ever had is asking questions from my friends of other faiths. They help me develop my own. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm willing to share my ideas if you are willing to share yours and learn from each other and not tear each other down shall we?
Sin number four:
I don't believe in everything the church does. Shocking I know. I have a hard time with the whole gay stance the church has taken lately. I don't believe in creating witch hunts in things that is frankly none of the church's business. So what if two gay people want to get married? I say more power to them. Its none of my business and I believe its none of the LDS churches business. Why can't we focus on helping our fellow man and working on ourselves be the best we can be? The last I checked Jesus said love everybody but maybe I'm wrong?
Sin number five:
I'm waiting to get married. In fact I might not get married till I'm 30 or later! So when you ask me why I'm not married yet I'm going to tell you that I'm lucky. Cause I will have lived my life a little bit. That there are adventures that I want to go on before I reproduce and get stuck to a mortgage payment. I live a lone and I like it. I go where I like and I do what I please. Why is that a crime? If your married and have reproduced congrats to you. I'm glad for you I am. Truly. However this doesn't mean I'm lonely. I've got great friends. I'm not opposed but I'm taking my time and I'm doing just fine.
Sin number six:
I don't like Mitt Romney. Or as I like to call him Mittens. There I said it! *Please note this is in no way shape or form a personal dig at anyone person's political belief. We all are allowed to vote for who we believe in who will do the best job. I don't think he is the answer. Sorry.
Sin number seven:
I'm an environmentalist. I don't believe that everything was placed here to be used till its built up, used up and destroyed. Sorry. I believe in open space, clean air and water. So if I wear chaco's and I believe in preserving what we have and be good stewards of the earth then this is a sin that I don't ever feel like repenting from.
So there you have it. Why I'm a terrible Mormon. However in my defense I do like my faith. Its like a marriage some days you like each other and other days you can't stand each other. Yet we get a long. The overall point of this post is to share with you that I'm a quirky individual who may sneak away from Church early get a java chip frappicino and go lay out on his lawn and enjoy the sunshine, who might voice an opinion that is contrary to what should be the standard Mormon answer. I'm human. I'm me. I just want you to know that. So when you judge me before you know me I can point to these seven sins and say here are just a few of my faults.
Wait scratch that. Picture a pink hippo. Tied to a yellow string. The hippo is wearing white and red polka dotted dress. The string is attached to a post. Got it? Good. Now can you tell me what that means about my inner psyche?
Today I wanted to stand on top of my desk and scream like a four year old. I wanted to kick my feet up and down and shake my head and cry my head off. I know it was only Tuesday but cabin fever came in and grabbed me by the bones and said You get us outside now! My brain protested as well if I hear the word mameogram or watch another old woman throw a fit because she has to get her information verified it I shall lose it and you will be a mass of ugly my friend! A mass ugly.
To make that last paragraph make sense it was really hard day today at work. The weather was so nice and so hard to be trapped! Trapped I tell like an animal in cage. The things I do for money I tell you. Short of working the street corner this is what I must do in order to survive.
If anybody wants to host a slighty fat 27 year old this weekend I'd love to get away.
A completely random ending to a completely crappy post.
The Salt Lake City Half Marathon was definitely and experience. When you have such an awesome sister as I do it makes racing a lot more fun. The princess made the race so fun for me. We got to take a taxi to the start which was awesome cause then we didn't have to do the whole awkward where do we park where is the start do you have your car keys etc dance. This picture was taken about 15 minutes before the race started when I race I don't get pretty. In fact I look pretty awkward. I have my Garmin, my road id bracelet (just in case I get hit by a jazzy) my head phones, my sunglasses and the lovely stomach accentuator (its like a wonder bra for your stomach it causes all the fat to be pushed up.) and as always messy hair and a smile!
Races make me nervous at the start. Being hearing impaired I don't run with my hearing aids (too much sweat drips into them and I've got squealing and popping so not fun.) and I'm always worried they are going to announce something extremely important that I'm going to miss. So it was nice to have her by my side for a few minutes. When it was really close to start she went up to the fast people area and I headed back to the beef trust. Which if you don't thrust out your elbows you end up getting squashed by the breast cancer warrior group (I know! I thought it was rude they didn't ask me to be a part either!). As more and more people lined up it started feeling like they were herding cattle. They had both the marathon and half marathon people start at the same time which made things a little awkward.
So when the they said go all the sudden you see all these little heads bobbing people trying to get their Garmins and ipods started and move! I being the genius forgot to turn mine on till after the first mile so pretty much it was good for was telling me my pace time. Which was kinda nice. I normally try to go as slow as I can at starts so I can get out of the swarm of people. The first mile I was starting to get a panic attack with people everywhere I couldn't find my running grove. But it was okay. Then my ipod got its race day magic and Madonna came on and I knew that everything was going to be okay. I also put on my sunglasses and had to lie to my brain and be like these are magic sunglasses! They block out the people. They can't see you. You are now invisible. Run with abandon! (Yes my brain sometimes acts like its 5 years old.)
Since I signed up for this race on Wen. I didn't have time to obsess over the course and memorize it so I just had to go with flow. I was a fat Dorothy on my way to see the finish line. It was fun! It was a gradual downhill and we ran through so many different little neighborhoods and areas it was fun to see all the people come out and support the runners. As we got further down they started having time clocks telling you how long you have been running when I was at mile 6(? it all gets hazy) I saw I had been running for 1:18 minutes and I realized that while I was almost half way the Princess was almost done. (I know. Life is so unfair.)
At mile 11 the course drops you on State street and they were doing road construction and then all the sudden the race went crazy! Lights police! Cars rushing down the road and this homeless man (if he wasn't homeless he wasn't dressed to his best that's for sure) was in the middle of the race and he wouldn't move! They were trying to get the runners to clear a way for the marathon first place runner (No. It wasn't me but it was nice to pretend for a moment.) and I fell and heard a really loud pop! And shooting pain in my ankle. Oh did I mention I fell too? I've got a lovely bruise now too. Thanks Homeless old man! You really made my race.
So I had to walk for a while. Crying but texting at the same time. Why? Cause why not multi task. Give the photographers something to focus on for a minute.
Running down south temple was nice.
One more complaint and I can put this opus to bed. As I was running down the finishing chute (HA! Another cattle reference!) the guy next to me starts doing cartwheels. Really Popeye? Cart wheels?! And his form was terrible! What made it worse it wasn't a former fat person like me finishing it was supper skinny man! Jerk.
But it was so nice to finish! I finished at 2:31 even. Which makes it more awesome is that I finished at 2:41 at Santa Cruz so a nice 9 minute drop. The Princess? Oh she took 5th over all and took first for the Amateur division. She finished at 1:25 and PR'd! I'm so proud of her!
Oh yesterday I did things that I'm not very proud of. Acts that would make any dieter gasp in horror at the sins that I have committed against myself. I need to cleanse my soul of the massive amount sugary paste and carbs that were consumed yesterday. So so many carbs gave their life yesterday. So so many. It was one of those hang your head down in shame kinda of days.
To begin this tell of epic tell of woe it all started with the intent to go to yoga. On a Thurs. morning. At 10 am. On my day off. I figured it would be good stretching for the race and to do some light exercise (some might say light exercise would include cleaning but I don't use that dirty word.) yet when I awoke at 10:00 am I simply looked at the clock, looked at the window (which really KSL weather? It has not been "nice" at all this week.) and decided that I was going to treat myself to a day in bed. Well not the whole day but have a lazy morning.
After reading the paper and my book and dozing I went to lunch with my grandma and the momma Joye. So we went to Tony's. Cause that's where I go when I need to carbo load. Good ole' Tony's. This is where I did things that I'm not proud of. I ordered my usual rigatoni dinner and it was wonderful. Gloriously wonderful white pasta. With bread. I don't remember much but when I was done I know I had a serious headache.
Sweet carbs. Apparently you know how to sucker punch a guy.
But it doesn't end there.
Oh no dear friends it goes on.
Later after coming home and moaning for an hour I went to Roosters to meet some friends for a baby shower. Instead of saying I've already eaten my weight in carbs today and I shall have a water and that's all I had the pear gongrozla (let's just call it the fancy cheese name that I can't say spell or pronounce. I had to point to it on the menu and go that one!) which was awesome but just added to the whole I feel like the good year blimp feeling.
This could be the part where I told you I went walking, or I stretched, or stapled my mouth shut but no. No I did not. I went to see the married people and they had lots and lots of candy. Oh sweet blessed Reese's eggs, peanut butter M&M's, sour patch water melons, watermelon taffy and cotton candy taffy that was Blue! Blue I tell you! (I can't say no to blue food however that's a whole other blog post.) and they were there all shiny and new and I my tongue was like a virgin that had been touched by sugar for the very first time.
(all together now Like a virgin! Touched for the very first time! When your heart beat next to mine... like a virgin..yes. I've totally gone to the Madonna zone. I'm sorry.)
So now it is almost 9 o clock in the morning and I feel bloated, caramelized, and my head hurts. I can't believe I used to think this was an okay feeling all the time. No wonder I became a brick house.
This is why I hate the Nutcracker. It gives you unrealistic expectations on what sugar can do for you. I realize this is a totally random way to end a blog post but its true. Its all the Nutcracker's fault.
Yesterday I was attacked by the sugar demon. I wanted sugar. Lots and lots of sugar. And Pancakes. With syrup. Lots of syrup. With Sprinkles and whipped cream. Ice cream, brownies you name it. I knew when I was nuts when I started fantasizing what I would do for for Necco wafers. Which I don't even like. I was ready to open up sugar packets and do a really bad impersonation of Al Pacino in Scarface. *I've never seen it I've just "heard" a lot about it. I swear.
Oh it was a hard day.
Yet I surprised myself when I came home I changed my clothes and went for a run. Instead of giving into the temptations of just lounging around and eating carbs I was running on Harrison before I realized what I had done. What a difference three months makes. That and I have a race on Saturday where I'm hoping to get another medal to add to my beautiful shiny collection. I'm not totally nuts I don't wear them everywhere. Just to special occasions like church and work and possibly a co workers wedding but that's pushing it just a bit.
Don't worry. I'm perfect. This morning just to scare myself I did the truffle shuffle. Yup. Still the truffle shuffle king. (You tube it.)