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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Great Britain 1, Me 0

April 21, 2016

I’m a goat. I will eat just about anything. I’m not squeamish or squirrely about much of anything. Like creepy food. Or random bodily injuries (just ask the poor surgeons who have been asked on several occasions to show me the excised cyst, tumor, polyp, tonsil or wisdom tooth of the unwitting family member who […]

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If You’re Going to Throw Yourself a Pity Party, At Least Serve Good Cake

April 13, 2016

Continuing the theme of “Feel Sorry For Me Because I Can’t Run”, I’ve decided to wax poetically about the joy of doing…not much (really, I’m just going to whine, but I don’t want you to run screaming so I’m trying to make it sound like you are going to get something quasi-literary out of this). […]

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