Trip to the East Coast - Day 1 (Travel)

Today started off like any other day I have to trek to the airport. I wake up at about 4:30 - in a panic because I see light coming through the window. Now I know I need to catch a very early Max train to get to the airport (read: still dark outside), so seeing light through the window means I have slept through the alarm and missed my plane. The inevitable adrenalin rush ensues and then I realize - it's headlights from a car that some dipshit is sitting in outside the window. Nice.

Instead of laying in gloom and doom (and completely unable to fall back to sleep), I managed to convince myself to get up and make an early start on things. With visions of pre-boarding browsing at Brookstone in my head, I headed for the shower, got ready, grabbed my bags and off to an early train I went. Smugly.

When I jumped on the first train that arrived (not the correct train, mind you, but the first train), I was shocked at how many people were on board. It wasn't even 7 a.m. yet and it was crammed packed. Realizing I boarded the wrong color train (needed rojo but was on azul), I hopped off when appropriate and waited for the right color train to show up - while standing in the rain - and hoping it was one of the new fancy trains and not an old crappy train with stairs I have to negotiate my always-heavy bags onto.  Instead, the middle of the road train showed up - not the new schwanky train and not the old crappy train with stairs, but the old, crappy non-step train. At that point, I'd take it.

It always amazes me how other people on the train with suitcases feel compelled to strike up a conversation with other passengers who also have suitcases. You know you're going to the same place (the airport) but everyone is always curious as to where you're off to once you arrive there. Me being one of those nosey people.

So onboard comes "Tex" -- a rather tall, striking man with a presence and his wife - with suitcases. They plop down in the row behind me. I'm not sure his name was Tex, but he looked like a Tex - wranger type jeans, cowboy hat, cowboy boots. He had an ever so slight southern drawl and looked like a less tan version of the Marlboro Man in happier days before he croaked from cancer. His booming voice was a bit unnecessary (and unwelcomed, mind you) at the wee hours of the morning.

He struck up a conversation - consisting of, "Where ya off to?" To which I replied, "Washington DC." Now really I am going to Maryland to visit family, although Maryland sounds so dull, while Washington DC sounds much more sophisticated. I quickly fessed up about Maryland and added it was for a family gathering, as if no one travels to Maryland or if they do, they need a valid excuse. He then went into a (loud) dissertation of how he wants to visit DC someday and see the National Monument, the museums on the mall, the White House and the Pentagon. Didn't have the heart to tell him the Pentagon isn't in DC.

Tex's wife who also had cowboy hat - but of the leopard persuasion and a strong Spanish accent, spoke up, interrupting Tex's dreams of dinner with the Obamas, to inform me they were going to Acapulco via cruise. It was just about that time that Tex's phone rang and I got to hear more than I ever wanted to know about the Tex's upcoming vacation.

In a most obnoxious booming voice Tex announces, "Yeah! Acapulco!" To the poor deaf person on the other end of the phone. Then a second of silence, followed by,
"I think we get back on the 30th, Phil!" The 30TH!!!! I'll call you when we land in Portland that day!! Did I tell you it takes two days by boat from San Diego to get there?!" Poor Phil. Another second of silence (he was probably trying to regain his hearing) and then, "Yep! I hope we don't have any delays in San Diego considering our boat leaves four hours after we touch ground!!" This was followed by boisterous laughter and then finally, "See you next week!!" and that was that. It was so loud I'm surprised the train didn't derail at some point during the conversation. That was when I decided....

... Hello iPod.

The rest of the ride was spent in blissful shuffle mode, where over the likes of Roxy Music I could hear Tex chatting up other unsuspecting luggage carriers who happened to board the train and sit close to the fellow airport goers. Only I could hear bits and pieces of the conversations, as much as I tried to tune it out. Mostly it was Tex's booming pipes that carried well beyond any note that Bryan Ferry could attempt to cover up. Mostly I heard words like "Acapulco!" and "Boat!" shouted twelve decibels louder than necessary.

As we approached the airport (I could see the tower and my escape rather clearly), I put away the iPod and prepared myself to get into pole position to zip out the door as soon as I was released. The last two minutes of the train ride were spent listening to Tex tell his story of how his boss rammed into him with a forklift and as a result, he'd been out of work for six months. "Got me good, he did!!!!!, " I heard him exclaim. I had to stop to wonder if the boss did it on purpose. About that time, the doors opened and I was freed from the auditory assault on my eardrums.

And the rest can continue tomorrow.........

Leftovers - and lots of 'em

So, Thanksgiving has come and gone with great success. How could it not? We have to embrace major holidays that not only endorse, but encourage, the consumption of massive quantities of food and drink.

And this year was no exception. I figured after my 19 pound turkey for three people (and one dog) kind of event, that I would, most definitely, have tons of turkey for leftovers -- and resolved myself to the fact that have to be healthy. But what to do? Kooper had his own ideas, but I opted for the following:

Post-turkey day of Turkey Hash for breakfast, swiped from Martha Stewart Thanksgiving radio show.  We all want to be a little more like Martha, minus the bad stock tips and jail time, of course.

Second, was a nice turkey breakfast burrito - the same ol' breakfast burrito with a healthy switch from turkey bacon to turkey breast.  Fill up a big whole wheat tortilla with turkey, egg, black beans, cilantro and salsa -- makes for a good morning.

Next was a turkey salad - easy enough. Just pile the lettuce, turkey, olives, carrots, cauliflower and celery on the plate - top it off with a bit of balsamic vinaigrette and a healthy dinner is served. No guilt what-so-ever.

Turkey sandwiches are also a staple of the post-Thanksgiving feast. Raise your hand if you're getting sick of turkey. Both of mine are up (not sure how I'm even typing at this point).

Last but not least - and my favorite leftover recipe so far - is a twist to a chicken dumpling recipe - by simply switching the "chicken" to "turkey" and using whole wheat flour instead of white flour for the dumplings. Doesn't get too much healthier than that.

Kooper has also been benefiting from the stockpile of turkey reserves and has had a bit of the turkey mixed in with his kibble at every meal. Tryptophan is starting to kick in on the poor little guy. I should share with him more often to ensure some peace and quiet.

One the carcass is gone - which will hopefully be sooner rather than later, I'm pretty sure I won't be looking at another turkey for a long, long time. Not only because I have turkey over-load at this point, but also because you are what you eat. Gobble Gobble.

In Search of Dog Friendly Wineries - the Columbia Gorge version

Ah, the day after Thanksgiving - otherwise known as Black Friday. Shopping mecca. Betty and I have been passing notes about sales for the past week, with glee. From Costco to Best Buy to Toys R'Us (which, let me make it clear - I would rather fall into a giant vat of toxic waste than to hit any of those stores -- especially the later). I've also been passing the notes to her knowing that, full well, I am not going to partake in anything shopping related. Turkey coma + black shopping Friday = bad news for fellow shoppers. Having said that....

Okay, so I did.

I went to Costco. Broke down. It was open early although they lied on their automated system. I showed up, the doors were open, slack-jawed people pushing carts everywhere, mental breakdown imminent .... it was looking a bit bleak.  Then I stumbled upon the reason why destiny had pulled me into that giant vortex of Black Friday doom --- I found the newest of the gadgets... the Flip video.. It's pinkish purple - it has 2 hours of build in video - it went into the cart with a few more unnecessary items. Hello lover. Was with a flip and bought a flip - it was meant to be.

Off to the Columbia Gorge wineries for a little R&D, with new flip in pocket, we went. Our quest, to find something other than Oregon Pinot and find dog friendly wineries that the pooch can enjoy as well.  It was a tough start for the poor little guy. He spent the first two wineries in the back of the car.....No love. And keep in mind, I had no idea my pants were not 'don't wear with boots' kind of pants. These are the things you have to consider when tagging a video camera along.

We then were fortunate enough to stumble upon winery #3 - who embraced the brown furry one - they had dogs of their own so it wasn't a stretch for them to let him in to take in the sights and smells. He did very well - all thing considered. Only minimal whining. Then we took to the outside where the wine was (slowly) starting to kick in a little bit and riding tractors sounded like a fabulous idea to both me and Koop. At the end of the day, unless it's a backhoe, it's not a good idea.



Onward and upward, as I always say. Well, I don't always say that - but it sounds good - no? We did do a bit of wine tasting R&D and stumbled upon (last but not least) one of the better red producing wineries called Viento.  They had a rather scrumptious Barbera and their Super Tuscan was the bomb. Koop was more than welcome there as well....



This was our last stop in the winery tour of the day. Koop did fabulous - layed down when instructed, ate salami off of the floor (workers thanked me for bringing the clean up crew), smooched a group of wine tasting ladies, and crotch sniffed anyone within Labrador nose distance (to mostly their surprise, mind you). Yes, he was well received.

Success. And a new gadget - boy, this could spell trouble.

In Search Of...... A Healthy Thanksgiving Menu

Growing up in a large family, Thanksgiving was a big holiday. It was one of the times that everyone would converge in someone's home and gorge themselves into turkey oblivion in the name of family togetherness. We would normally just head to my sister's for a day of over-eating, football and napping. And what a spread it was -- I can remember eating as many stuffed celery pieces as I could handle, and there would be leftovers for days on end.

This year, with things being a little wacky, we are doing an "orphan Thanksgiving" which basically just means that those of us who can't find their way to their families mega feasts and family drama (normally due to fur-kid or work obligations, or in my case - both) will get together and make a meal for ourselves.  Maybe misfit Thanksgiving would be a better description. Less people/ more leftovers.

In any event, since I have pretty much commandeered our corporate townhouse and filled it with things like big screen t.v's and a Wii, I figured this year I would take a stab at making dinner as well. This means I can also enjoy the tv, football and Wii. I mean, come on, how hard can it be? A little turkey in the oven, a few appetizers, lots of alcohol so no one notices if it doesn't come out quite the way I planned - win-win-win. Tryptofan is bound to kick in after a while anyway.

So now I have to figure out some sort of healthy menu. Turkey - check - that's a no brainer for healthy as long as you stick to the white breast meat and not eat the entire breast. Or try to deep fry it - which I am not about to do -- the Beaverton fire department will thank me later. The next healthy thing on my list will be the sweet potato - they're like the anti-potato and filled with all sorts of good for you nutrients. Who needs candy with the sweet potato lingers around? I'm thinking a sweet potato/ apple casserole type of dish. Looks rather yummy, doesn't it? Let's home mine turns out as well.

Then there's the stuffing. When I think of stuffing I immediately have flashbacks of last year, when my soon-to-be ex insisted that I help with the stuffing (an old family recipe handed down from generation to generation -- all two of them). Then as I was attempting to keep grandma's stuffing on par, the soon to be ex (we'll just refer to him as the 'idiot' if mentioned again) kept reprimanding me for doing it wrong, but would not offer any help in the "right way" to do it, nor did he want to do it himself. My hackles are raised just thinking about it. So, in light of the not-so-fond memory, I need to give stuffing a better name and am thinking of an mushroom herb stuffing that hopefully no one grandma's has tried to perfect just yet.

And who can neglect the cranberry? Dubbed a 'superfood' this is going to take a spot on the table as well. And not the canned kind that keep the shape of the can when you slide the cranberry tube out of it's metal container. No way. We're talking real cranberry sauce, ala Martha. Martha's cranberry recipe and super antioxidant - a triumphant combination for sure.

And of course, there will be stuffed celery. Lots of it.


But the one thing I can't figure out how to make healthy, no matter how hard I try. That thing is called dessert. I am not a fan of the traditional pumpkin pie - but that doesn't mean I should deny the orphans (or misfits, whatever you want to call them) the pleasure of having a nice slice with loads of whipped cream. The jury is still out on the rest of it. By the time dessert rolls around (giving the amounts of wine that are sure to be consumed) perhaps no one will care about the nutritional benefits of what's being plopped in front of them in the name of dessert.

Which brings me to last, but not least -- the bevvies. I'm thinking we start off the day with the perfect bloody mary and then work our way into wine - and lots of it. This, plus football, plus food coma will make for a very nice Thanksgiving -- well, in my book anyway. And if it all doesn't come out right, I am not below crashing someone else's feast. So beware.

Detox - Uber Fail

So... the detox was rolling merrily along. I was having headaches that were most certainly from the lack of caffeine in my system. Seriously, I don't think I've been that caffeine-less in about 15 years and my brain was doing everything it could by reminding me of this, not to mention protesting. By day three I had given up green tea (which wasn't cutting it) and worked my way up to Yerba Mate tea instead. It helped but wasn't the same a nice cup of strong coffee (filled with cream - another no no, and splenda - the big no no). Nothing artificial is supposed to touch these lips (insert whatever joke you want here).

Thursday evening I had a party to attend at a friend's house. She had a bottle of Alexander Valley Vineyards Sangiovese on the counter, begging to be opened.  I'm being tested in situations like this and not unlike all tests that involve me and wine from the homeland, I am sure to fail miserably.  To my credit, wine does not contain anything artificial. I should get some sort of point for keeping it real. I did manage to make it out of the party prior to the heavy drinking - which I heard lasted until 3 a.m. Yikes. And on a school night too.

As the weekend rapidly approached, my relationship with the detox just went further downhill, starting with brunch at the Urban Farmer on Saturday morning. Bloody marys were on the menu (again - nothing artificial there) along with real food. Yes, the real stuff - ham and eggs Benedict on a nice sourdough english muffin with a garlic infused vodka bloody mary to wash it down with -- who can blame me for falling off the detox wagon? Lead me not into temptation, I can find it myself at the bloody mary bar at the Urban Farmer, apparently. And the homemade pickled vegetable smorgasbord that accompanies the bloody marys is enough to justify the slip up - we're talking pickled carrots, asparagus, some broccoli/cauliflower hybrid veggie, string beans and corn on the cob - yes, actual corn on the cob, pickled and ready to pretty up a drink. It's like a salad in a glass - that has to be on the detox menu. They didn't really specify how to intake the veggies.

Realizing my limitations, I've made a sort of pact with myself from here on out. Detoxing will be my theme of choice for weekdays - Monday - Thursday, and retoxing will be reserved for weekends - Friday through Sunday, hence my wine-free bout tonight with Monday Night football. Weird. And when football season is over (I shudder to think about that) then Sunday will move into the "detox" days as well. I have a Santa suit to fit into sooner rather than later.

The thing about depriving yourself of the things you enjoy is this: it just pisses you off after a while and makes you crave them even more. Like coffee. When I thought I couldn't have coffee, it's all I wanted. When I put finally had a cup in front of me - good old Stumptown coffee - I only drank half a cup of it. It's all a mental thing and right now - I am in no condition to have a battle of wits with myself.

We'll chalk this up to another one of those "it sounded like a good idea at the time" ideas.

Day 1 & 2 - The Detox

Day 1 -

Not sure if this is a detox or a diet.  I don't like the sound of either of those but since the first three letters of diet spell 'die' - I'm going with detox. Mentally prepared and well stocked for this - not to mention happy that this detox consists of actual food and not just lemon and syrup water, I get up and enthusiastically prepare my first breakfast shake.

I put the non-dairy 'milk,' soy protein, flax seed oil, ice and frozen berries into the blender in a hurry.  Hit the on switch and the machine made that high pitch sound of the blades spinning, but nothing is being mixed up. What the hell? Apparently the blender didn't quite like the frozen concoction and it took it a while to churn it into a drinkable mixture. After arguing with it, the final result was a bright purple color -- a color you would only find in the 64 crayola box with some strange name like grape vomit. It didn't taste half bad, however. Hello breakfast.

With a slight headache - probably due to the lack of caffeine and my body's shock, I spent most of the day obsessing about food. This is what you do when you can't have something. Of course, obsessing about food makes you hungry. I avoided anything that popped up on my computer screen that had to do with Epicurious or Williams Sonoma or even Martha Stewart for fear of spotting her making some perfect apple pie. I'd hate to send her non-deserving hate mail.

Lunch rolled around and it was brown rice and steamed vegetables. Very unexciting. Surprisingly enough - it filled me up. For a snack I ate an apple and by the time I got back to the townhouse - no hunger pangs and the food obsession subsided. Off to the gym I went. Worked out and came back to make fish, more rice and more veggies. So far/ so good. The thought of dinner without wine is something that never dawned on me could actually happen. I, shockingly, survived the absence of the nectar of the Gods.... Hopefully I have not angered Bacchus, as I really am looking forward to falling back into his good graces again very soon.

After Day 1 there has been nothing shocking to report. My skin hasn't miraculously become porcelain like and my hair hasn't become perfectly straight, shiny and/or the envy of every woman in Portland. No job offers for the ex in Siberia either. Nope - nothing really noticeable to report. Except the slight headache.

Day 2 -

Started out equally as uneventful as Day 1 - except for this morning breakfast shake, I used half a banana instead of the frozen berries. Much better. Not really missing coffee all that much, although at this point I haven't been around it. If I smell it I'm sure I will start foaming at the mouth. It's been replaced with Yerba Mate tea for the time being - which has a little of the caffeine in it but not nearly as much. I'm supposed to be drinking green tea but I figure tea is tea is tea - right?

Snack consisted of nuts -- you are what you eat -- and lunch was more brown rice and veggies. Today was a little different. When I got back to the townhouse later that afternoon, I could feel little pangs of hunger. Like my body is wondering where the good stuff has gone. I keep reminding my tummy that this is temporary. Patience, grasshopper.

Always looking to be well informed - and resisting the urge to download books into my Kindle, I moseyed my way to the library and picked up the books that inspired this newest detox called the Ultrasimple Diet and it's sidekick: Ultrametabolism. Put them squarely on the counter to be read at a later date (read: probably never).

Fighting off the hunger pangs and those little voices that try to talk me out of going back outside, I made it to the gym, followed by more fish and rice for dinner. Made a salad in lieu of the steamed veggies and had my first faux-paux in the form of balsamic vinegar. Didn't realize I wasn't supposed to have that since it is 'yeast producing.' Kicking myself that if I was going to screw up - why couldn't it be with a nice glass of Cabernet? Wasted mistake. I didn't get very far into the salad before I read that, luckily.

Still, I don't feel that different. My head still has a dull pain that I'm starting to think has always been there, but without the wine I'm just starting to notice. I'm not in a foul mood nor do I want to kick anyone's teeth in. I'm looking at this as a positive step in the right direction.

Tomorrow is a new day.

Detox Pretox

Today I am starting another detox in an attempt to clean out the wine induced layers of soot that must be clogging my arteries at this point to get them, and the rest of my internal organs, back to a clean, healthy state, and then attempt not to do it all over again. Having said that: You have to detox in order to retox.

This regimen isn't quite a rigid as the Lemon Juice/maple syrup detox that Rachel and I tried earlier in the year (everything I do seems like a good idea at the time).  I still can't use cayenne pepper in any foods and forget about maple syrup. Scarred.

Having done a detox before only to gain back the weight, and rather quickly I might add, I am hoping this one has positive, long lasting, even permanent effects - like shiny hair, a clear complexion, decreased ass size (by at least half), wine-gut be gone, and added perks such as my soon to be ex husband gets a job offer he can't refuse in Siberia, and has to leave the country immediately. These things can happen. I am hopeful.

This new one is called the "Ultra Simple Diet" and it sounds, well, ultra simple. The gist of the detox is the following for a week:

• No Sugar
• No Caffeine
• No Alcohol
• No Processed Foods
• No Grains
• No Men
  

Pretty much it's only lean meats or fish, veggies, brown rice and you make protein shakes for breakfast and snacks. Nuts can be on the menu, but no Double Doubles Animal Style. Thank goodness I got my fix of In & Out Burger out of the way when I was in California recently.

Preparation is key to a successful detox, so last night I raced to Trader Joe's to stock up on all the necessary items that I needed to get me going, including the things I cannot pronounce - like Borage oil. What the hell is that?  I could not find rice protein, so I substituted soy protein instead, and stocked up on flax seed oil, skipping the borage oil that obviously only exists in the rarest of health food stores or in a far off land. By the end of the shopping adventure, my cart was filled to the brim with veggies - ranging from bok-choy to carrots, celery to cauliflower - I was completely set. Look how healthy my cart was.

Back at my temporary ranch, I immediately got busy making a pot of brown rice and steaming a bunch of vegetables to pack for lunch. This seems like it is going to be healthy and I was wondering why I hadn't thought of this before. I have always been a good eater, it's normally the gallon of wine I insist on washing everything down with that seems to be my downfall. Note to self.

Reading labels is going to be the toughest part. Not because I can't read, mind you, but because I seriously just can't be bothered spending the time scouring the back of a carton for a hint trace of sugar or one of the fifty other names it can be disguised as. Multi-dextrose, high fructose, xyz chromosome - who knows.  I do have a work-around as I am avoiding most of everything that has something on the food label that 1/ I cannot pronounce or 2/ I don't know what it is - which usually goes hand in hand with the things I can't pronounce, although I could pronounce 'borage.' Things that are natural should be simple to comprehend.  Like the rice I purchased. On the back it simply reads: Ingredients - Brown Rice. The end. No guesswork.

We’ll see how it goes.

Race for the Cure - Portland

I admit - have been a serious slacker with the whole blogging thing. This is what happens when your personal life completely falls into disarray and you go a little nutty. Okay, a lot nutty.

Long story short - the only way to get your life back on track is to start to do the things you were doing before the mind took a sabbatical.  This time it was Sara's idea, perpetuated by Lisa's need for pink legwarmer and two open spots in the Race for the Cure 5k -- that happened bright and early one Sunday morning. Here we are, looking more spry than what I was actually feeling.

Our team: Team Fitness Together, Lisa's studio here in the 'berbs of Portland. My goal - to finish. Unlike the Shamrock Run, which was plagued with wildly miserable weather, this day was filled with sunshine and a bearable coolness (as opposed to a freezing downpour).

So - we, and about 40,000 other runners and walkers, took off in downtown Portland to run the 5k. The race will filled with 'survivors' - from all over, running in a swarm of pink. Having a sister and best friend who both battled breast cancer (and won), the race did have more of a special meaning so I was happy to be a part of it (don't get me wrong, the St. Patrick's Day and beer had special meaning, just of a different kind). We're all surviving in one form or another when it comes right down to it.

Armed with an arsenal of gadgets, I timed the race with my Nike+ gear and found that the course was not actually a 5k, but a little longer - 3.8 miles, which I completed in about 32 minutes. Not bad for someone who hasn't been able to muster up the energy to walk in a straight line recently, muchless partake in a 5k. Anyone who runs on a regular basis, stops and starts again knows how difficult (and shocking) the transition can be on the body. So in order to make sure mine did not collapse in post-5k shock, we set out immediately afterwards in search of the best bloody mary we could find - with success.

The Urban Farmer was gracious enough to provide us with not only Bloody Mary's, but also a Bloody Mary Bar - complete with every pickled vegetable imaginable. It was like a salad in a glass, only a little more spiked - just the way we like it.  And now Sara can say she's been there. Finally.

Going to New Lengths

When you physically see the signs of your bad behavior showing up in the form of a roll of fat around the mid-section (read: Dunlop tire, muffin top, Michelin man), it’s time to get a reality check. Here’s us at the Oregon Brewer’s Festival last weekend where yours truly is looking a bit thick – not unlike a nice stout. And what's up with me and bald guys? Wait, that's another blog.

So, as yet more motivation to combat the jelly rolls, there is another bet on the horizon. Tanya and I are going to put $150 into a pot. 12 week time frame. Person who wins (weight, body fat and body measurements) gets the pot. If we make our goals then we keep our dough, just the loser that will fork their share over.

Time to put our money where our mouths are – instead of Ben & Jerry’s, or in my case Bogle and Jordan - it's going to be all about fresh salads, lots of exercise and taking it up a notch or two. And I plan on using my winnings to buy new clothes that I will inevitably need when I drop the weight – or maybe towards my gadget addiction since I already have clothes that are packed away due to the added poundage over the past few years. It’s inevitable.

It still blows my mind that some people can eat and drink their way through the world and not gain a pound. All without exercising regularly mind you. While I won’t spend a lot of time dwelling on it (really, there’s nothing I can do but remain jealous about my lack of the skinny gene), I will spend time every day trying to think myself thin – then I’ll get out there and workout more so I can still enjoy things like wine on a regular basis. Glasses, not gallons.

In light of that, today I am going on a run at lunch – in an attempt to get back into the groove. Wish me luck and remind me not to stand sideways in pictures for a while.

4th of July 5k - La Pine Frontier Days

Saturday, July 4^th (after having a couple of glasses of wine the night before) started off at the La Pine Frontier Days Fun Run 5k.  About 30 people showed up – didn’t realize La Pine had that many ‘healthy’ people willing to get up and partake in the 3.17 mile run on that bright, sunny morning.

Here’s me, doing a little pre-run stretching with my new, cool iPhone in hand. There should be an app for stretching.

The race took off from the Frontier Days location, and looped down a road that ran right beside the La Pine Rodeo, which I missed this year but did spot the rodeo queen while we were en route. She was on her horse and I thought about asking for a lift. I should mention that I also spotted her in the beer store the day before, wearing her crown that looked a little Burger King-esque. She was still wearing it.

The race took a turn down a dirt fire road, complete with potholes and thousands of mosquitoes, where we (the runners) doubled as breakfast. I’m thinking this was just another obstacle put on the course as motivation to run faster. It worked. I can, however, confirm what doesn't work and that would be the iPod “anti-mosquito” app. Don't waste your dollar on that one. 

We ran further down the mosquito-infested path and then across more water, which the race coordinators put a makeshift “bridge” consisting of a couple 2 x 4’s, and warned us of ‘obvious beaver activity.’ I was sure the “gadgets” and me were going into the water at one point or I would be attacked by an angry beaver defending his log jam.

Popping out of the wetlands around the local high school, we looped through the parking lot where many horses and trailers, including Ms. Rodeo Queen, were gearing up for the annual 4^th of July parade (and lawn mower race). Had to be careful where you ran on that leg of the tour to avoid any road hazards left by the horses. I slowed down at one point to watch one parade participant spray paint her horses’ ass with red glitter paint – that was a new one for me. The horse did not seem to mind.

Turning the final corner, and to my horror, the parade, was getting ready to start. On the sidewalk, which also served as the last half mile of the 5k, and was lined with many parade spectators, lawn chairs, coolers, kids, strollers, family pets and all. The final few minutes were more of an obstacle course than a race.

Despite it all, I finished in 27 minutes and 36 seconds with no animal attacks (other than mosquitoes), soggy gadgets or horse pies to clean off of my shoes.  I will chalk it up as a success. The lady who won it for the over 30 crowd was in her 60’s and had a time of a little over 18 minutes. Her daughter, in her late 40’s came in second at 22 minutes. Apparently, I still have to work to do. Will take the gold next year for sure.

Here We Go Again

I'm starting to see a vicious cycle in my running life. It goes a little something like this: Run, get into it, dig it, take a break (vacation, work reasons, whatever), fall off wagon, get run over by wagon, get back up, convince myself to start over again - and that's how it goes. It goes and goes and goes and goes.

So how do you stop the vicious cycle and just do it?

I pondered that question for quite some time tonight over a nice glass of cabernet (but of course). There are many articles out there that tell you how to overcome the 'barriers' that lead to the vicious cycles.

According to the Mayo Clinic, not to be confused with Mayo Winery (another favorite and sometimes contributor to my barriers), came up with a list of things to do to keep yourself motivated.  These were swiped right off of the Mayo Clinic's site.

Set goals. Start with simple goals and then progress to longer range goals. Remember to make your goals realistic and achievable. It's easy to get frustrated and give up if your goals are too ambitious. If you haven't exercised in a while, a short-term goal might be to walk five minutes once or twice a day. An intermediate goal might be to walk 20 minutes three or four times a week. A long-term goal might be to complete a 5K walk

Start slowly. If you push yourself too hard at first, you may be forced to abandon your program because of pain or injury. It's better to start slowly and progress gradually.

Think variety. Vary your activities to keep boredom at bay. Alternate walking or biking with swimming or a low-impact aerobics class. When the weather cooperates, do your flexibility or stretching exercises outside. Play soccer with your kids. Join a health club or martial arts center to broaden your access to different forms of exercise.

Have fun. You're more likely to stick with an exercise program if you're having fun. If you're not enjoying your workouts, try something different. Join a volleyball or softball league. Take a ballroom dancing class. Trade your running shoes for a swimsuit. Remember, exercise doesn't have to be drudgery.

Make physical activity part of your daily routine. If it's hard to find time for exercise, don't fall back on excuses. Schedule workouts as you would any other important activity. You can also slip in physical activity throughout the day. Be creative! Take a walk during your child's music lesson. Take the stairs instead of the elevator at work. Pedal a stationary bike or do strength training exercises with resistance tubing while you watch TV at night.

Put it on paper. Are you hoping to lose weight? Boost your energy? Sleep better? Manage a chronic condition? Write it down! Seeing the benefits of regular exercise on paper may help you stay motivated.

Seek support. You're not in this alone. Invite a friend or co-worker to join you when you exercise. Work out with your spouse or your kids. Take a class at a local fitness center.

Track your progress. It may help to keep an exercise diary. Record what you did during each exercise session, how long you exercised and how you felt afterward. Recording your efforts can help you work toward your goals — and remind you that you're making progress.

Reward yourself. After each exercise session, take a few minutes to sit down and relax. Reflect on what you've just accomplished. Savor the good feelings that exercise gives you. This type of internal reward can help you make a long-term commitment to regular exercise. External rewards can help, too. When you reach a longer range goal, treat yourself to a new pair of walking shoes or new tunes to enjoy while you exercise.

Be flexible. If you're too busy to work out or simply don't feel up to it, take a day or two off. Be gentle with yourself if you need a break. The important thing is to get back on track as soon as you can.

Okay, so I've done all this. 5k was the first goal (hence the blog title), support in the form of the Moo-challenge with Rachel; reward myself (daily with a glass of wine, herein might lie the problem but like all problems we'll just ignore it for now)......

More investigation is necessary on the subject. And on a better note - I'm on the up-side of the cycle. Clocked in four miles yesterday and three miles today. Let's see how long this holds out. I have my theory - and I bet I hit the wrench in the spokes when the Oregon Brewer's Fest rolls around.

Maybe there's an app for my iPhone for motivation. I'll check it out.

Gadget Geek

It is here - the day I have been waiting for a long, long time: the launch of the new iPhone 3Gs. My heart be still.

Getting the iPhone was quite a challenge. The Apple Store in Washington Square was set to open at 7 a.m. on Friday the 19th of June and I planned on being there with my nose pressed against the window prior to opening. So at about 6:15 that morning, the trusty lab and I headed that direction in a sleepy kind of daze. I figured it would be simple, considering I had already pre-ordered mine when the news first came out of the phone's release.

Walking through the mall you could hear the sound of a crowd. People were already gathered and I saw evidence of a sleeping bag on the floor. What the hell? The queue was set up and it was about four or five lines deep by the time I staggered in (with trusty lab in the car, waiting patiently). Nothing was moving all that quickly and I started to get nervous about the time it was going to take to get to the front of the line and then into the store to get the phone and get it working.

An hour later, one dog check (he was fine) and a new found Starbucks coffee that someone was kind enough to bring me, I found myself with Apple rep "Brandon." Looking like he had just rolled in after a Grateful Dead concert, he attempted to set me up with the new phone. Seriously, he looked like he needed a date with Irish Spring and a razor sooner rather than later. Getting through the process took about an hour, since I, of course, had problems switching my number over from my previous carrier. I was the 2nd case of that they had ever seen - which I just contribute to my bad karma. Since Kooper has a micro-chip with the old number in it - I battled my way through AT&T customer service (who were shockingly helpful) and got 'er done. Really, it's all about the dog, who was still waiting in the car.

Two and a half hours later, one bored Labrador and way more hassle than I needed that morning, I had the brand spankin' new iPhone 3GS in hand and was heading back to the office. I must say - this is quite possibly the coolest gadget I have ever had and am wondering how I lived so long without one. I have deemed it "my boyfriend."

I haven't quite had the chance to figure out all the features yet, other than setting up my bluetooth so I can still look uber-geeky when I'm out and about and I've dabbled a bit with the voice command option (very cool). There are a lot more functions I need to take the time to explore.

Yesterday I did manage to take a picture of Kooper at Laurelwood pub where we enjoyed a refreshing Organic Red after a nice hike up in Forest Park (where we got rained on). No one seemed to mind though. Camera works nicely, although I must figure out a way to disable the "current location" and/or "find me" options. Seriously, no one needs to know that.

Road Hazards

While on vacation in Maryland last month I set a couple of goals. These consisted of the following: That I wouldn't 1/ get bombed every night and that I would: 2/ go running to keep up on the marathon training schedule. With my family, sticking to #1 was going to be challenging and #2 was going to prove to be nearly impossible. But I was ready to give it a go.

So one morning early in the trip, when I wasn't feeling so great after failing miserably from sticking to goal #1 but somewhat still determined to stay on schedule, I headed out to go for a run. Where my sister lives, the country roads are quite narrow

- there really isn't a shoulder (nevermind a bike lane), so she suggested I run down a side road close by. I still had to take the main road in order to get there - about .3 miles in the danger zone. And, as my luck would have it, I heard the sound of hooves on the pavement not long after I took off on my little adventure.

It was the dreaded Amish buggy that I had the good fortune to hear heading my way. Not one, but three. They seemed just as shocked to see a crazy woman running down the road as I was to see three buggies full of people dressed in Amish attire being pulled in horse carts. I waved, they waved (at least they were friendly about it) and luckily, I got out of the way - long enough to take a picture. They don't quite like it when you take their photograph, so I had to be stealthy about it. Nothing says stealthy like standing in the middle of the road like a dingbat with a camera in your hand. I don't think they spotted what I was doing and if they did, they don't really have a 'reverse' gear to flip a quick u-turn to run me over, now do they?

After avoiding being trampled by the convoy, I made it to the road and started my own trot when obstacle #2 started to take effect. The weather on the east coast is much more humid than it is here on the west coast, so by the time I even got a short distance into the run I was already drenched with sweat and felt like I had gone further than a few hundred yards. The air is thick and hot making running that much more difficult and had me wishing for air conditioning, not to mention a nice, cold beer.

Down the road and back was only a mile each way, but that was quite enough. As I was running along I took in the sights & smells - like people outside shooting archery (sight you don't see everyday) and horse doo (smells from the Amish). At the end of the road there was even a hill I had to try to navigate -- down and back up, which with the heat was a challenge. The bugs were about as big as my head and felt compelled to dive bomb me as I ran, probably due to my lovely smell by that point. You think they'd follow the horses, but no such luck. Maybe I smelled like a horse, who knows.

The rest of my vacation was quite a bust, for running anyway. I did manage to drink my way through quite a few states, saw Elvis, caught a never ending cold and am now back attempting yet again to get back into the groove of training for the Santa Rosa marathon. Minor setback but I expect to make a complete recovery and get back to it.

The Six Pack of Running Winos

Here we are at Demae's wedding in July of 2006 (can't believe it's been that long). Little did I know that the running bug would somehow catch on, and this year, we'd be planning on running the Santa Rosa Half Marathon -- in a matter of months.

Out of the girls pictured to the left - it's me (note the horrible tan line), Demae (bride), Rachel (next to her), Tam (scrunched 2nd from the right), and Heidi. There's one more runner, Harmony, whom I haven't met yet - which will make up the six pack. The only "real" runner of the bunch, Heidi, will probably do the full marathon, while the rest of us will conquer the half marathon -- a whopping 13.1 miles -- in a beautiful wine country setting. I hope I can make it without taking any detours into my favorite wineries for a mid-run refreshment.

So, the training has officially begun. Rachel has put together our training schedules and while they seem reasonable, I found out today that four miles seems substantially longer than three, and it's only going to get longer from here. You'd think the one extra mile would be easy peasy but no such luck. Of course, I picked the hottest part of the day to take my run and thought I might die from heat stroke on the way up the back trail to the house with the "finish line" in sight. Would be mortifying if my neighbor had to come over on his ATV to hoist me back up from a collapsed state. He already rode over once to save me from a chipmunk that got into the house -- and the sofa. But that's another story altogether.

My goal now is to get into half marathon running shape while somehow not giving up wine in order to do so. I need something to live for during this "training" period.

Trail Running

Living in the country presents a unique opportunity in the form of miles upon miles of fire roads that seem to go on indefinitely. This provides ample running (and exploring) terrain to cover with the not-so-new trail runners. The picture to the left is the end of my property and the other direction is nothing but open dirt road -- which is a lot easier on my knees then the gravel/paved road around the neighborhood loop which is usually my route of choice.

Usually when running around the loop, even on a not so dry day, all that has to happen is for a car to pass by and, if they're not feeling rather neighborly enough to slow down to a crawl, they'll end up throwing up enough dust to stop you in your tracks until it clears. I doubt when this happens that the culprit even sees me give them the finger - just due to the smoke screen.

Dust bowls created by cars (or jacked up trucks as the case may be) becomes an non-issue when running on the back roads. This was enough to make it a tempting lunch time route and off I went - into the wilderness. It was nice jogging where the chances of running into another human is slim or none -- solitude at it's finest. But this can create another set of issues - what if there is some unabomber type mountain man that's living in a shack deep in the woods? What if there are a whole pack of them? What if there are wild animals who are coming out of hibernation and haven't eaten since last fall? What if I hear banjos?

The solitude of running, without a phone, GPS, or flares, bring these types of thoughts to the forefront of the mind. Not to mention I'm already tired from running by the time these speculations start rolling through my head, so if something or someone jumps out from the bushes and yells "boo," my chances of a fast get-away doesn't look good. I'm slow with a few extra pounds on the old backside that weighs me down.

This, of course, leads to "running protection" options. Other than packing heat -- and let's face it, I don't think they make a running pack that's equipped with a holster, I need to find another "just in case" weapon of choice. I wonder if someone can make an iPhone application for that.

Lucky for me, I'm not the only person with this need. At the local store today we found mace - in a nice pink case small enough to tuck into any pocket or even my hand. I don't know if I should be happy (or concerned) that the local store sells this type of stuff, but it will give me a little more peace of mind when I'm out in the great wide open running around where no one is in rescue distance. Unabomber beware. Now I just have to remember to spray downwind.

Stress - the Final Frontier

They say everything happens for a reason. I have to wonder what the reason for certain events could possibly be, as some "things" just seem to rear their ugly heads 1/ when you least expect it, 2/ when you didn't ask for it and 3/ when you seriously don't want it. Just when I think I have it all figured out, the wheels fall off of my apple cart. This creates - stress, a lot of it.

Not a big fan of stress - not that most people are but some do thrive on drama (I know a few of those types). I, on the other hand, don't handle it well and I try to avoid it at all costs. Some stress, I have now learned, cannot be avoided. So, how to combat it and try to be the windshield instead of the bug? 

I've tried most of these stress-relieving techniques in the past couple of days, to no avail. The stress is still there. In fact, I can hear him in the next room. No matter how much I ignore it - it won't go away. Meditation might work, but right now I only resemble Buddha - I can't quite sit still long enough and quiet my mind to meditate like a monk.

Since I haven't been running in over a week - due to stress and simply not feeling like it - I decided that today, no matter what, I would at least get a 5k under my belt and try to kick off some of those endorphins, also known as a runner's high. No excuses. There must be a way to get out of the funk other than mass quantities of wine, and hopefully this is my answer. Although never underestimate the healing properties of mass quantities of wine.

Off to the treadmill I went. Turning up the Podrunner podcast, I completely lost track of time - 3.5 miles under my belt (instead of 3.16 -- 5k) - yeah for me. Prognosis: Feeling much, much better.  I'm back at it tomorrow at lunch time. No matter what - and again, no excuses. Little endorphins are my friends.

And now I'm off to try stress relieving techniques 4 & 5 -- friends and laughing. Oh yep - and my own technique that Oprah somehow missed, wine. Not mass quantities, mind you. That would lead to a headache and headaches are stressful. I'm boycotting all things stressful from here on out or at least until tomorrow. From here on out, I plan on looking through my non-buggy windshield and moving forward in more ways than one. Onward and upward.

Commitment vs Interest

“There's a difference between interest and commitment. When you're interested in doing something, you do it only when circumstance permit. When you're committed to something, you accept no excuses, only results.”

Packing my running shoes to take a run while on a business trip in Chicago proved to only push the weight limit of my bright orange American Tourister (that my ex-boyfriend deemed as the "widow-maker" due to its weight) over the airline's happy scale. Bastards. It's bad enough that they charge you a baggage fee, but based on weight I am doomed. It's all about the shoes.

So, to make it cost-effective to take my new trail runners, I figured I had to run while there, even if only once. Knowing what happens at these events, I knew it was a long shot, and it went a little something like this:

Day 1 - hanging out with Irish girlfriend Liz who owns her own bar. It was lesbian night. Enough said.
Day 2 - Ran into Canadian friends who drink a lot -- at 3 p.m. Downhill from there. Enough said.
Day 3 - hanging out with Kiwi and Canadian friends who drink a lot. Seriously, I don't know how I survived this day and am contemplating a new career.
Day 4 - Having tied good ones on three nights in a row, my body finally gave out. I felt pretty good - so off for a run by Lake Michigan I went early in the afternoon. Work - schmirk.

Started out at the hotel and headed for the lake - a mere few blocks. Of course, I was spotted in my running attire going out of the hotel by someone in a suit who was going to a meeting (even though I did my best to sneak out of one of the more remote areas) and am now probably deemed a serious slacker, not that I wasn't before this little eye-spy event. I am allergic to meetings at these kind of functions, by the way, and deem myself there for Public Relations purposes only.

Running by the lake was rather nice and I could see the museums up ahead. When I passed Buckingham Fountain it was at the two mile point and I hadn't realized I'd run that far. It was about that time when the skies opened up and it started pouring. Not just a little bit pouring, but a lot pouring. The kind of rain where you need to take shelter under a big tree, or the nearest bar.

Contemplating what to do, and without a bar in sight, I weighed the options in my head. I could take a cab back and be ridiculed for pulling up in running clothes to the hotel in a cab (read: sissy) or I could suck it up. By that time the rain was coming down in a steady stream and let's face it, I have my mass amounts of "do-not-get-wet-under-any-circumstances" gadgets to think about -- so I decided to just do what was best for them and cab it - the whole two miles back. I'd just have the cab drop me off a little early as not to get spotted -- as if that ever works under any other circumstance -- or just suffer the consequences.

Imagine my shock when I pulled everything out from my iPod carrier and figured out - while the rain started to come down even harder than before - that I had no emergency cash on me and no phone to call one my allies for help. Not that they wouldn't have laughed at me anyway.

Twenty minutes and two soggy miles later, I was back at the hotel, looking like a drowned rat. I wasn't spotted though - added bonus.

Before I set out on this jaunt, by the way, I mentioned to a group of guys sitting at the bar (of course, where else would we be?) that I wanted to go for a run but it was raining. One announced, over his beer, that if I were a "real runner" it wouldn't matter if it were raining or not, I'd just go anyway. This is, apparently, the difference between someone who is committed to running and someone who is simply interested in running. Therefore, I blame this little event entirely on him and will get him back by spiking his drink with Pepto next year. Maybe more than one of them.

So, if we go by this commitment theory, I believe that this running incident makes me committed and not just interested -- even if only by force, lack of planning and many, many killed braincells. Kudos to me. Oh, and I blacked out on Day 5 and the remainder of the trip is simply a blur....... definitely an occupational hazard.

Things That Motivate Us

What motivates you? This is something I try to figure out about myself quite a bit. I even took a test that would tell me what "motivational type" I am, since procrastination seems to be my favorite pastime. I'll find the results of that later to share.

The answer came today in the form of a graduation party for my friend Tanya (pictured left, procrastinating with me last year -- or eating crabs, one of the two) and on the right in high school, before I discovered wine. Let's hope my preference in eyewear, bathing suits and reading material have improved with age. My decision to attend her graduation party was an easy one. Life is just too short to miss these events.

The party is in Maryland on May 23rd, where there will be yet another pool involved. You know what that means.....pool + drinking = potential spontaneous cannonball and that would lead up to the two most dreaded little words known to woman: Bathing Suit. Eek. Although the alternative, which is "no bathing suit," would be a lot worse, especially for party-goers. No sooner did I hit the "buy ticket" button on the Southwest website, did those two words fill my mind, and anxiety start to set in.

So now I have exactly five weeks to try to get into somewhat better shape so that I don't ruin any of her graduation pictures. No chance of that happening with my mother's camera, considering she mostly takes pictures of her fingers. However, like at most "monumental events" in a person's life, there will surely be photographs from all angles and in most angles at the moment, I have a double chin -- not more than a Chinese phone book, but at least one that needs to go, and heaven forbid if someone catches this porker in a bathing suit with a camera. Not in the world where Facebook has taken over.....No way - it cannot happen. More stress.

Now with motivation on my side (or panic as the case may be), I came back to the little townhouse home-away-from-home gym tonight after work and tried out something that we were discussing today in the office: interval training. I started out at a good trot of 4.5 mph on the treadmill for one minute, revved it up to 5.5 mph for two minutes after that, one minute of 6.0 mph followed and in the end, one minute of 7.0 (which is almost a sprint for me), then back down to 4.5 mph again to do the sequence all over again. When I got back to the 4.5 mph (and could breathe again), I took my heart rate and at one point it was up to 180 -- I'm surprised I didn't pass out and fly off the back of the treadmill. 35 minutes and 3.25 miles later -- talk about sweat. I might just be onto something. Tomorrow I might get a kettlebell, which could help ramp up the progress a little bit. I even toyed with the idea of doing the Master Cleanse again if I get really desperate. That's still in the back of my head, although drinking immediately after coming off of that detox might prove to be deadly. Plus, I still can't even think about maple syrup from the last time I attempted it.

New plan of attack - working out more, drinking less wine (if any), and in five weeks - hopefully will be 10 pounds down. This is going to be quite a challenge since I will be Chicago next week for a conference -- which usually consists of more eating and drinking than humanly possible. Will pack my running shoes, keep the big picture in mind and hope for the best.

Crazy Little Thing Called Mud

Sunday started out rather lazily - as Sundays should. Trying to get motivated and waiting for the coffee to give me a burst of caffeine induced energy that never came, I tried to plan something "active" for the day. According to my body bugg, I have to burn about 2200 calories per day and consume less than 1300 in order to reach my goal weight by May 31.  Rather difficult when you factor in that wine probably takes up half of my calorie allotment any given weekend day. That, and the fact that my fat cells are conspiring against me.

My fat cell conspiracy theory, however, is a whole nother story, so we'll stick to the day at hand. Since procrastination is my middle name, I did everything I could to avoid getting my butt in gear. I took the furry ones outside to run off some energy, and hit golf balls into the back 40 (lost about 10 of them). Finally when I couldn't think of another reason not to pack up my gear and head out, I decided to soak in the nicest Central Oregon day we've seen in a while and take Kooper for a hike. 

We ended up at the Deschutes River Trail with all good intentions of hiking to Dillon Falls - as the sign says, a mere 3.5 mile one-way hike.  That would burn those evil calories in no time. Heck, if I have enough of a deficit, it's justification of a post-hike glass of wine. That's motivation to keep on trudging.

We couldn't have ordered up a better day if we tried. The temperature was in the low 60's with nothing but blue skies and sunshine. My usual reluctant hiking companion was busy sniffing out the menagerie of smells left behind by other hikers and their dogs, and it seemed like a great hiking day was in the making.

Getting down the path a ways, we ran into the hazard of early Spring hiking: mud, and lots of it. Run-off from the melting snow created giant mud holes all along the trail. Add the vast number of people who also had the same brilliant idea that we did - to get out and enjoy the gorgeous day - and what you ended up with in the long run is a muddy mess. I knew I should have gotten those Gore-tex trail hikers at the Nike outlet when I had the chance.

Not to be deterred, we made our way to Benham Falls - .5 miles into the hike - where we decided we'd poke around a bit and check out the beautiful scenery that we're so fortunate to have practically in our back yard. Here we are, trying to get the whole timer thing right, unsuccessfully. The falls were the other direction -- we could hear them, just not see them at that point.

Despite the mud on the path, we (I say this as if Kooper has a choice in the matter) decided to trudge on to our intended target - Dillon Falls.  The further we went, the muddier it got. I should have packed those boots that clammers wear when they go out clam digging. Kooper sunk almost up to his chest (happily, I might add) at one point and that was it. I didn't need to try to pull a "Man vs. Wild" moment in order to save him from a giant muddy sink hole. In my mind, I could already read the headlines in the Bend Bulletin tomorrow -- "Local woman's fat cells conspiracy finally pays off - she sinks in giant mud hole (ass first) trying to save her dog -- Dog fine - Film at 11." 

A few more minutes down the path and no hope of solid ground in site - we had to turn back and make a break for it. My little pig dog, who loves the mud, was not pleased. He'd rather wallow in it, given the chance.

We made our way back to the car - both of us muddy messes, when I let Kooper get take his first plunge into the Deschutes River, which as a Labrador is his birth rite. As soon as his butt hit the water he turned into "wild dog" and was ready to swim down the river after a couple of unsuspecting ducks, almost pulling Mom (and all of my gadets) in with him. At least it washed off most of the mud.

All mud holes aside, hopefully this weather holds out and it's finally the beginning of Spring. I've said that before, only to be shocked by a number of freak snow storms after 60 degree days. Fingers crossed. Until then, we'll plan out all of our Spring and Summer hikes. Driving out of today's hiking spot, I noticed a lot of "trail" signs on the side of the road. There's a lot of ground to cover, apparently and we are up for the challenge. Our goal: South Sister Hike by September.

Favorite Running Accessories

After running for any length of time, you start to figure out little things that you think will make your runs a little more bearable. One of my biggest challenges is trying to keep my hair out of my face. I know this sounds rather trivial, but trust me, if you have a lot of hair then you know what I'm talking about. It's downright annoying. No matter what, my hair normally finds a way to wiggle its way out of any contraption I can find to try to keep it pulled back.

There's been a lot of trial and error in finding a device that doesn't slip down, come undone or, in the worst case scenario, fall off completely. I'm uncoordinated as it is - trying to readjust a headband while jogging proves to be quite a challenge on a moving treadmill (definite running hazard). A headband, I found, has been the best to keep the bangs at bay, but nothing I've stumbled upon seems to work with much success. Most are just way too thin to keep the mass quantity of hair I have where it's supposed to be.

So, a couple of weeks ago when I was out stimulating the economy single-handedly, I picked up a buff from REI that claimed to actually stay in place. There was a picture of rather active looking women with more hair than I have, frolicking around -- "in motion" with the buff firmly in place. I picked one up off the rack, and haven't looked back. Until tonight that is. 

On the treadmill, cruising along at a nice pace, I looked up (they are cruel enough to put a mirror wall in front of the cardio equipment), I caught a glimpse of myself and realized that I looked a lot that guy from Loverboy. Seriously, no one should go out of the house looking like that. I was surrounded by possible part-time neighbors. Embarrassing. I'm thinking we're sure to be evicted.

Finishing up my 5k, in record breaking time, by the way, I mosey'd back to my home away from home, feeling rather self conscience. A few minutes after settling down, I proceed to chat away with a friend who wants to log on to see any progress I've made via video -- he's tech savvy like that. No way, I say. Not while I'm still in my dorky doo-rag, not to mention sweaty. The only thing worse than the look of a rather wrongly situated buff is taking off the buff and having "buff head." This is not to be confused with butt-head, mind you. Either way, there is no glamour there what-so-ever.

So my new find is great for the task at hand - getting the hair out of my face. It is, however, bad for making a fashion statement, which really is what running is all about. No? My next run is scheduled for Friday when I will be a the Treehouse where over-alls are the fashion statement of choice. And since tomorrow is Thursday, and I am working up to my run on Friday -- consider me "working for the weekend." Oh come on, sing it - you know you want to.