miracle socks

well, my 4 wedgie socks have proven to be viciously full of purpose. I wore them for a stinky 3 days straight of running and quickly retired them to the laundry basket immediately upon returning home from the trail on the 3rd day. 2 running adventures later without them because they're busy stinking up the laundry room and I have two blisters coccooning tiny butterflies waiting to pop out and fly away.

this is when waterproof bandaids come in to play. but I wiggle my toes in my half-sleep and this creates a noise that sounds like large spiders trying to crawl up the side of my comforter while I am sleeping. not good.

so I washed my damn 4 wedgies already and have snuggled them over my damaged, ready-to-callus-or-crack toes and they are doing FANTASTIC. blisters are disappearing, my shoes are more comfortable, my teeth are whiter, and my jokes are funnier thanks to the wedgies.

but sadly, my pet butterflies didn't make it.

nuick nuick nuick

I sometimes wonder, if I take off in one direction on my favorite trail, how far could I actually just, GO... before having to stop, search for quarters, a pay phone, and call my husband to pick me up?

and when I say 'sometimes' I mean during the times I'm not testing to see how many Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies I can stuff in my face at once. which is a majority of the time. so, ya. I spent my weekend drinking beer with friends, being quiet the next morning as to not wake any of them up, and eating lots of Girl Scout cookies. while this is all fine and dandy, it leads to a Monday morning spent feeling extra body parts giggling and wondering "WHEN??? HOW??" which makes it all soo not worth it.

so this evening I plan on wrapping up my blisters with special band aids and sporting my nifty running attire at Rancho San Antonio for a warm and cozy jaunt with the bunnies.

maybe I'll see a cadbury. in which case, I'd have to stop and eat it. and then search for more.

4 wedgies and a friend

my during the week running buddy is suffering from one of two painful options.

option #1 super bad shin splint

option #2 a cracked bone

let's opt for option #1 as option #2 makes me think of a cracked shin bone sticking out of one's skin.

nonetheless, he is down for the count.. for at least 6 weeks. so my weekly running went to shit due to the fact I cannot leave my cubicle chair without a friendly obligation threatening me with guilt.

enter high school pal moving back to California after far too long. she's getting in to running for the first time in her life which means she is super amped and likewise has restored my interest and desire to stand up, change in to a skin tight outfit, and drive to a trail at 4pm every other day.

it's been a fun week consisting of buying myself some tight knee length pants that flatten my ass like a concave pancake, as well as some strange yet new blister-reducing toe-hugging socks (I call them my glove socks, or my 4 wedgies), and about 8 miles worth of new dirt on my shoes.

a good week it has been.

42 pairs of jeans please

last night I lived 300 days in my fictional life.

I became a struggling artist in a matter of minutes. I broke willow charcoal, drew a foot, drew a face that Nick offered me $7,000 for saying "You can buy as many pairs of jeans as you want with that money", quit while I was ahead, and then proceeded to go on tour with my band. we played a couple gigs before it was time for a break and I continued my solo tour as a drummer. finished up in Rio de Janeiro and moved on to London, then Paris, and stopped before our Chicago concert because frankly, I was tired.

a foot, a face, and two continents later and I'm dreaming of drum beat combinations.. my right foot tapping with restless bass drum syndrome.

this is my life in fiction. it's so much more exciting don't you think?

Michael and me

I visited Michaels Arts and Crafts store today to scratch an itch I have had for the past week. an itch that, left unscratched would have fallen in to my "wanted to do but never did" chapter of my life. well, I scratched it.

I plowed my way through the land of fake roses and lilies and bushells of unscented lavender forests; past the falling yarn boulders and the old moth ball blank-staring women shopping methodically; through the valley of forgotten frames with no fake people fake-smiling for the fake families... to find charcoal waiting patiently for me, hanging politely from their little hooks.

I plucked two, and moved on to my future sketch pads.

have I ever done this before? no. I have no idea what I'm doing. but I have confidence in myself that I'll figure it out as I go along. "but charcoal drawing is haaard" you say. well, stuff it. I am competent and determined. I can figure things out without explanation; without instruction. the only thing I could use help on is what to attempt to draw first. I should have asked the old checker lady for her advice but, I pictured myself aging a couple of years whilst listening to her stories if I so much as asked her what her favorite color was. so I declined from that option.

fruit bowl here I come.

cheers to me!

it's hard to believe it has been almost a week now since my 10k. I know you all must be wondering about the results (because I have just received SO many inquiries - hint of sarcasm). well I did it. I was coughing, congested, with tons of pressure in my right ear and I got myself out of bed and on the trail in the cold morning. even more unbelievable was the fact that Nick was out there too with me that early.

Aly was amazing. she held my water for me, stuck with me the entire time, told me minimal inspirational things, asked me whenever I needed water. and despite a total of 20 secs of walking in order to spit water, I did the entire thing. the furthest I had run before that, was only 4.8 miles. and that was weeks prior. to go from that, to 6.2 made me feel so proud of myself. and then it was all over. and I had to pack for my trip to NY. and my run was pretty much forgotten by everyone.

I haven't gone on a run since then (6 days ago). I was in NY for 4 nights and gave myself a nice bruised instep from all the walking. it goes from invisible, to excruciating pain very easily. I broke in to a jog today whilst running to my mom's desk to give her some cash for her lunch (how often does a daughter get asked by her mom to borrow some money?) and pain shot up from the bottom of my foot, up the side of my leg and I showed up at her desk with a limp and a grimace - thus making her feel extreme guilt. as much

as my body craves a good run after my NY trip (I ate pretty healthy, I was just off schedule and thus feeling very funky) my foot can't handle a 10 foot jaunt right now. I am even concerned for my upcoming Napa trip - I don't believe wine can hide the pain. but I'm willing to test that theory.

hold it up to the light, swirl it, smell it, sip it. it's good.

trooper my butt

3 days before my 10k and I think I'm getting sick. there has been someone at work who has been phlegm coughing and spitting at his desk for weeks but, still came in to work illusioned by the fact he thought he was being a trooper. well, how about NEGLIGENT. everyone who's cubicle he has coughed in is now feeling the consequences of a "trooper".

not only do I now fear pushing through my 10k with a thick cough but also being stuck on a plane and on my short vacation to NY with the trooper sickness.

well, whether this turns in to the real thing or just a minor inconvenience I plan on most certainly running my race this Saturday. unless I achieve flu status by then, I will be up and running.

I am taking today off of exercise as my body is beginning soreness and in combination with the weird stuff going on in my head, a bowl of soup from Whole Foods sounds too good to be true right now.

my challenge for tomorrow?