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Weird. With all this “nontraining” running I’m doing, I’ve lost weight.

I’ve been kind of bragging/lamenting/bragging to Tim about it for a couple of weeks and he’s chosen to (mostly) ignore me. He knows this is a minefield. If he agrees/notices/comments, he’s in for the inevitable firestorm of: SO YOU THOUGHT I WAS HEAVY BEFORE? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME I NEEDED TO LOSE WEIGHT? ARE YOU ANALYZING ME?

Not that I am ever this paranoid/irrational/insane. Nope.

But finally, this morning on our run, after I’d brought it up for the 437th time, he casually said, “Maybe it’s because you’re not eating like a linebacker for the Pittsburgh Steelers anymore.”

Um, I’m sorry? Could you repeat that?

And while he looked like he wanted to whip an Invisibility Cloak out of his ass, he stood his ground and repeated it.

“I said, maybe it’s because you’re not eating like a linebacker for the Pittsburgh Steelers anymore.”

I didn’t even know what to say. Tim is truly the nicest guy I’ve ever met. The nicest person. My entire family likes him best. All of our friends like him best. My dog likes him best.

But, linebacker? From the Pittsburgh Steelers?

Yes, I do love me some cupcakes. Okay, cake of all kind. And steak. And every type of Mexican food, even that sauce covered stuff they serve in places that aren’t on the border. I pretty much can’t go a day without some sort of chocolate, or nuts, or avocado. And I don’t think life is worth living if crab legs don’t show up in front of me at least once a month (with several sides of melted butter, obviously). I’d never dream of using anything but real butter, real sugar, or whole milk. I don’t understand how putting butter AND sour cream on a baked potato is too much. And why bother to even eat if doing so involves ingredients with the words “low fat” or “diet” attached to them?

But does any of this mean I eat like a ginormous football player when I’m in heavy training mode? Does this mean…I eat like a guy?

I guess it does. So, in light of Tim’s loving revelation (thank you, hon), we will be having lettuce soup and rice cakes for dinner.

She who controls the kitchen, controls the world. Or at least her husband’s.





I’m So Zen, I’m Scary

by Carilyn on November 30, 2016

Loops, how I love thee.

Yes, I wrote that. And I mean it, so stop reading now if you were expecting something deeper. Or at least interesting.

I’ve been thinking a lot about loops lately. Mostly because they are the only kind of running I feel like doing right now. The only kind of running that doesn’t make me want to head back inside and turn on a Real Housewives marathon. Yes, watching Vicki Gunvalson screeching at one of the other blondes seems preferable to “regular people” running at the moment.

Loop running is very soothing, don’t you think? I mean, once you get in a rhythm, going round and round and round and round, you just sort of zone out and, well…run. It’s like meditation, but without all that annoying sitting still, and breathing, and blankness (whatever that means).

But while I find running around in circles perfectly normal and satisfying, even my closest of relations still don’t quite get it.

Tim: So how many miles are you doing now that you’re not training?

Me: 20

Tim: I thought you said you aren’t training.

Me: I’m not.

Tim: Then why in the world are you running 20 miles a day? You know that’s weird, right?


Tim: Hmm. Maybe you should think about upping it to 25.

So much for Zen-ness. Maybe I’ll try Chardonnay in my handheld.


You’ll Be Happy to Know All of My Relatives Are Still Alive

November 28, 2016

So many kind e-mails, comments, Tweets and texts about my last post. To all of you: thank you. I love you for caring and taking the time to read, skim, or open and immediately close this blog in utter exasperation. I really just write this stuff down because I have too much time on my […]

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Why I Quit Running (Okay, that’s not entirely true, but don’t tell my body)

November 2, 2016

So I haven’t quit running. I’ve just quit RUNNING. For now. I’m tired. Bone-deep tired. Twenty to forty miles a day tired. As I’ve talked about on many, many, many (I know) occasions (one of the problems with the blog format – you have to “refresh” regularly in case a reader shows up here by […]

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Anything But Food (or, Somedays there just aren’t enough miles for the hours)

October 25, 2016

I don’t want to talk about food today. Do you mind? I had a big, like the size of a Frisbee, slab of chicken fried steak for lunch and I’m feeling a little bilious. Although it probably wasn’t the size of the batter fried beef that did it, but rather the slurry of cream gravy […]

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Salted Toffee Brownies (or, What I Invented Because My Shoes Often Don’t Match)

October 19, 2016

How do you feel about brownies? I’m kind of meh about them. I like them fine, but when the world is full of sweets that have me obsessing about them at two o’clock in the morning, a brownie just isn’t ringing my bell. I’m not losing sleep over a brick of chocolate stranded between the […]

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Just Because I’m Back Running Doesn’t Mean You Get Parfait (Blue Cheese Cole Slaw)

September 28, 2016

Running has resumed. My pity party has ended and it’s time to get back on the roads, trails and treadmill. Time to get busy. And everyone in my house is breathing a collective sigh of relief. Thank God she’s not tapering anymore. Thank God she’s not racing anymore. Thank God she’s not recovering anymore. Thank […]

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Before Hip Wasn’t Hip (or: Granola Is For Cool Kids)

September 21, 2016

Back in the eighties, my sister, Linda, and my brother-in-law, Mike were doing a lot of long distance running, mountain climbing, and camping. (And the whole time, Linda was also teaching school and working on her first book. Yes, I still feel like a slouch just thinking about it.) Linda and Mike were the coolest […]

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It All Came Down to Ginger Ale

September 19, 2016

Update: After reading this to my loved ones (you know who you are), I’m going to retract my pledge to never race again. I have been reminded that one should never blog within the first 72 hours after a bad race lest we are forced to eat our words and then have to blog about […]

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Racing Cookies (because that sounds better than food that doesn’t make me hurl)

September 11, 2016

So, I’m racing next weekend. And in case I haven’t complained often and loudly enough, I will mention it again: I hate racing. I love to run. Love, love, love to run. Can’t get enough of it. But I hate to race. I do it only because I don’t want to be called a “jogger”, […]

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