Ten Things Thursday

#1.  A BIG thank you to everyone that commented/read/learned from/appreciated my special post yesterday. There are so many of you that I consider really good friends and I am so humbled that you all would reach out and make me feel loved. Yesterday was tough. Writing what I did was tough…and good at the same time.  I really struggled with sharing it, because I didn’t know what people’s reactions would be. I guess I was nervous. But you all made me feel completely comfortable and it warmed my heart from the words you wrote.  I didn’t realize the impact that would have on me and my family, and even you all, but it was a lot bigger than I anticipated. And I’m glad. And I know Mike is glad and proud too. So, thank you again, for being there for me!

Now for a little psycho babble.

2.  I have bling on my jeans this morning.  That’s right. Bling. I wear cowgirl jeans and it has bling. Don’t be a hater.

Sorry for the close up of Jerry (right thigh). Usually we try not to get this close.

3.  To match my bling jeans I wore one of my favorite peach colored T’s.  Well, I’d like us all to take a moment of silence for the peach T. (Silence)  It was puked on by my printer today and will never recover. My printer isn’t just a normal little desktop cute-as-a-button printer, it is a demonically possessed machine the size of 1961 Volksw@gon Minibus that spewed cyan ink all over the bottom half of my T. Just for shits and giggles. I F-ing hate that thing.

This is the spawn of Satan that I work with everyday.

4.  I’m going to Denver this weekend to take my bestest friend in the whole wide world’s engagement photos.  We also will partake in a little alcohol consumption and will eat at her fiancé’s restaurant (he’s also my good friend, I kinda was the happy match maker for this little relationship. I’m shocked it’s lasted as long as it has with me playing cupid. Just kidding.) I have not seen her in months and can not wait!!! But I can wait for the 8 hour drive…all by lonesome. Jeesh.


Wanna know why the acorns appear to have cleavage?
The seamstress made my wedding dress for size 2 Barbie.
Not size 10 Laura. It was long day.

5.  My motivation this week has been shit-tastic at best.  When I’m at work, I avoid work. When I’m at home, I avoid home. I don’t even know how that’s possible. I’ve only ran once. ONCE. Obviously this little mini-vacay to Colo. is coming at the perfect time, because I NEED some time off from both work and home.

6.  Ryan told me this morning that he’s going to clean out my coat closet turned white trash-rigged pantry. WHAT?! Yes, my kitchen is the size of a porta-potti and I had to ‘convert’ our hall coat closet for things that I NEED to be near the kitchen, but that I can’t fit in the 2.5 cabinets I have in the kitchen.  Like my salad spinner and Wyatt’s broken stuffed animals that I need to perform surgery on so they can go back to living with all his other play things and the 218 packages of Ramen that I bought before I started this health trend and margarita scented candle that I love but doesn’t go with anything in our house because it’s lime green.  He’s going to put all that important stuff down in the basement and I’m not going to be able to find it when the apocalypse happens and I actually need it.  This is seriously messing with my mental pack-rat emotions.

7.  Why is it that Dipshit management with a penis thinks that actually listening and understanding when a woman explains how she does her job (which she wrote the manual for) is not required?  Why is it that said Dipshit instead just pulls bullshit from his little hole in his ass that sits upon his shoulders and tells said bullshit to people that can use their magical powers to shut down my department if they even get a twitch that we aren’t doing our job to the certification (based on the previously mentioned manual) that they graciously gave us? Why is said Dipshit even a MANAGER? (That situation just happened by the way, which is why I’m spitting nails while typing this.) But you wanna know what’s cool?  I let him spew his bullshit, then I corrected him and made him look like the baboon’s ass that he is.  Maybe that’s why he’s scared of me…because I will become your worst nightmare if you mess with my department. Jerkoff.  Ok I feel better.

8.  I’ve decided that I need a maxi dress. Only because Draz has one, and talked about it today and now I want one.  I’ve also decided that since I’m headed to Wally World today anyway that I just might see what they have in the way of long flirty dresses. (Because I’m classy and like cheap clothes, plus I’m too lazy to drive over to K*hl’s.)

9.  I am officially at a plateau. That flat-chested hooker that spouts out the same damn number every morning can take her ‘150.2’ and shove it up an elephant’s butt.

10.  (Warning: Best thing you’ll read all day) I RAN 3 MILES!!! Woot Woot! I not only met my 2.5 mile goal (5 days early), but I freakin’ drop-kicked the SOB!  It happened Wed. morning, and again I did a little happy dance in the middle of the road.  There I was, rockin’ it out to a little MJ and I looked up and a dude in a truck was sitting in his driveway just staring at me.  Great. At least he got a little show before he ventured off to Employmentland.

That’s it for me peeps! (Oops, I almost wrote poops, hehe.)

Enjoy your Thursday!

A special kind of post.

Today I’m not going to whine about added weight or write about running or really…anything that has to do with beer, dogs or health. Today is not going to be gut splitting funny (which I always thought I had a weird sense of humor, but it makes me feel better that there are A. others out there just like me and B. there are others that think I’m funny sometimes), although I really can’t write totally serious about what I’m writing about, because the subject was NEVER serious. So you might giggle a little, but you’ll probably be a little sad too. (Just warning you.)  Oh, and it’s a long one. So prop up those feet.

Today is about Mike. My dad.

Mike came into our lives a little bit differently than some people’s dad’s come into their lives (or really vice versa-you come into theirs). But at the same time, some of you might just relate to this situation too.  My parents divorced when I was in middle school. It was meant to be; I never held a grudge or had serious issues with it. It just needed to happen.  Then, after awhile, my mom met Mike. I think I was about 13 or 14.  They met at the golf course. He played a lot and she was a bartender during the summer, not only to make a few extra bucks during her teaching break, but if she worked at the club, she could play for free (and so could my brother and I.)

I really don’t remember the details, but they dated for a short period before they decided to get hitched.  And once they decided that, Mike moved in with my mom, my brother, and I.  That was a little different.  First, I didn’t really get to know Mike very well before he moved in. I mean, he came over, I knew he was dating my mom, I knew that someday they might get married, but I tried not to think about it.  Second, I was perfectly content having my mom all to myself.  And that was totally interrupted by some dude who made weird jokes and drove a Tahoe (which I secretly thought was so cool).

He never had any biological kids, so he walked in at the WORST possible time to try and become parent of the year….2 teenagers going through puberty. It was special.

As you can probably imagine, I didn’t just magically fall into some father/daughter loving relationship like what happens in those cheesy Lifetime movies.  I fought tooth and nail to make it very uncomfortable for him, putting it mildly. I did what every teenager does to their parents….I was rude, selfish, bitchy, moody, angry….basically a really tall and skinny gremlin with brown hair. But he took it, and never said a word.

I remember one time my mom and I were yelling at the top of our lungs (I have no idea about what now, imagine that). She’s standing at the bottom of the stairs and I’m at the top. (There’s no way in hell to have a knock-down-drag-out-yelling match with a teenager in one room…it has to be in separate rooms, causing you to raise your voices to ear piercing levels.)  About 10 minutes in, Mike comes around the corner and says, “HEY! Can we just sit down and talk calmly about this?” Both mom and I look at him and yell, “NO!!!” We stomp off in different directions and slam doors (because slamming doors also happens a lot when you’re a teen and arguing).  He had to just be standing there, staring at thin air and wondering what the hell he got himself into. (I would have gone screaming in the other direction by now.)

My hating life and the situation went on till I was about 22 or so. A long time. Way longer than it should have. For some reason, at 23 I kind of ‘came around’. I started working on my self esteem and going to counseling and staying out of the bar district of college (well, not totally, but enough to pass most of my classes).  This is when I really looked at Mike with a whole new perspective.  He’d stuck around. He hadn’t left or treated my mom or my brother or I like dirt.  He was a good guy. A really good guy.

Me and Mike at Father/Daughter Day at KSU, 2000.

Mom, Me, Mike, my brother Michael
College graduation, May 2007

Also, about this time, was when his weird health problems started. I’m a little fuzzy on the order of everything that happened, being that it was awhile ago, but the doctors thought that he might be getting MS. Then he had this weird artery hemorrhage on his forehead that he had to have removed through surgery. His liver basically shut down.  He also started stressing out about a lot of things. He got migraines terrible, to the point of getting sick and having to be in bed, no lights, no sound, no movement.  That wasn’t all, there was more, a lot more, but to keep this novel shorter than the length of the dictionary, in the end....he got cancer.

I found out a lot about Mike in the last 7 or so years that I had my head out of my ass.  He helped out with some of my college bills, just like any old parent, which I had no idea he was doing at the time.  He worried a lot about me when I was depressed.  He used to talk with my mom about it all the time. Didn’t know that till later either. He was a writer. He wrote all sorts of short stories and little bits of Indian history throughout his life.  (Mike was Prairie Band Potawatomi Indian) He cared, a lot, about other people. He helped a lot of people; someone he knew on the Reservation or just a perfect stranger. He acted like a kid most of his life. He had ‘toys’ like bulldozers and cranes (no shit, we had a huge construction crane as ‘yard art’ for about 5 years, we lived in the country, so no one really cared.) I’d come home from college and ask mom where Mike was and her reply was, “oh, he’s on his machine, riding it around the property.” “Doing what,” I’d ask.  “Oh, just riding it.”  And you’d see him, up on the hill, just puttin’ along in his bulldozer, with a huge smile on his face.

Mike teaching me to drive the bulldozer. Seriously.



Something like this was sitting next to the driveway in my mom's flowerbeds.

 He had the best sense of humor I’ve ever known a person to have. He used to pretend that he was a government spy and that his real name was George. No last name. Just George.  At Disneyland he walked up to a statue of a gorilla and pretended to have a conversation. He said that it was the government giving him his next ‘mission’. (That was SOOO embarrassing for a 15 year old, aka ME!) He also would never tell his real age. He thought it was so funny when people came over to wish him a happy birthday and he’d say, “Oh, I’m not 50, I’m 46.”  Totally straight faced. And people would BELIEVE him!  When my parents moved to the Reservation he didn’t have a full time job, so he was at home a lot. He was at home every morning when my mom would leave for work.  He took that opportunity to go out to the driveway as she was backing out of the garage and pull his pants down and moon her. Every. Morning.  I was also lucky enough to see that FULL moon on many occasions. It scarred me for life.

Family South Dakota Trip, I think 2008
Ryan, Me, Mom, Mike, Michael, Jennifer, and their daughter Trinity

Mike's 50 + 365 day Birthday Party, 2010
He didn't get a 50th, so we had a big deal on his 51st.

Whether it was ironic or fate or whatever, Ryan (my husband) and Mike had damn near the exact same personality. So when you got those two together, my mom and I were never safe from the ‘torture’ that was bestowed upon us. They were constantly picking on us and being ornery. Any ditzy thing that my mom and I would do (which happens more often than not) they would just feed off of it and never let us live it down.


Father Daughter dance at my wedding, Sept. 2009.

Mike was an incredible person. He had the biggest heart. One of those few people that you will never forget and wish that more people were like him.  I could go on and on.

Mom and Mike after the ceremony.

Michael Alan Ne-se-Ka Jensen passed away one year ago today. Five days after his 15^th wedding anniversary and a 20 days after turning 51.

His funeral was one to remember, and it might seem weird that I tell you about it, but you’ll understand after you read this: It was so humid that day. Sweat was just pouring out of our skin.  We barely made it to the funeral home and in the doors without getting huge pit stains.  We all sat down and the pastor started the service.  About 20 minutes in, just after the pastor had given the 'church' service part and a song had been sung, it was time to ‘share stories about Mike’.  That’s what Mike wanted, people to come up and share anything and everything, funny or sad.  Just as the pastor was saying, “Anyone, please come forward.” The lights go out.  Pitch black. We all just kind of look around and shrug. I look at mom, she looks at the pastor and says, “Well, Mike never wanted a funeral service anyway.” And the pastor replied, “Well, I guess he’s not getting one then.” We all laughed.  The lights stayed out for the rest of the service. Numerous stories were told in the small glow of the flood lights, funny and heartwarming. And when the last person sat down, the pastor started to ‘close up’ the service. Right then the lights came back on. I am not kidding you.  We all giggled again and looked up and each one of us was thinking, ‘Nice trick Mike.’ (We talked about it afterwards that we could just picture Mike up there, right next to God, saying, “OK, let's shut off the lights now, that’d be pretty funny.” Then he and God would have a good belly rolling laugh at our expense.)

We didn’t find out until the lights came back on that a huge storm rolled through at the time of the service.  Mike’s Indian name, Ne-se-Ka, literally means: Rolling Thunder.  Coincidence?

I wanted to write about Mike because he was a very important part of my life, and he still is a very important part of my life. And I wanted to share all that importance with you all. It's funny how life works out sometimes. I would not be in the same place now without Mike.  And I don't think he would have been in the place he had been without me.  Everything is a circle. Every action has a reaction.  And I fully believe he is up there right now, watching me write this, and smiling because he's so proud of me. 

I will never forget him and he will forever be with me.

Challenges, farts, and Captain Whiner.

Overview of the challenges:  The Marathon Challenge was tough, but I totally knocked it outta the park (with the exception of the horrible glorified walk on Sat. That was just pathetic.) The Minutes Worked Out Challenge also went good for the first week (it lasts until the end of June). I logged a total of 335 minutes. That’s some seriously crazy exercising.  Well, ok maybe not. I just used the trusty calculator (aren’t you proud of me Mom-she’s a math teacher) to figure out that only equals 48 minutes a day.  Well, maybe we can step that number up a little.

Today I’m really frustrated. I don’t really know why…ok, yeah I do. I stepped on that whore of a scale and she told me that I gained 2 pounds since Sunday. WTF Devil machine?! How can I go from a sedentary lifestyle for MONTHS, then amp it up to running/walking 26.2 miles in one week, I ate pretty good (with the exception of Friday night and Saturday lunch, and last night I did a big boo boo) but still!!! Why Weightloss Gods? WHY???!!!

My friend Sarah says that it’s water weight in my muscles, recovering from all the extra hard work that I put them through last week (because she did the Marathon thing with me and didn’t lose an ounce).  Well….I don’t give a poop about water weight. I want weight loss. NOW Scale Whore! (I know…horrible tantrum.) I tried to do some research online and it’s so confusing. Eat less, exercise more and you will lose weight. (Right.) But if you exercise you might gain weight. Reasons for this? Oh, only about a gazillion. Maybe I’m not eating enough, maybe I’m eating too much, maybe my sodium levels are too high, maybe I’m holding a fart that weighs 2 pounds. It really could be anything.

OK, I need to kick Captain Whiner’s ass. Enough of that shit.

I know it’s probably water retention. I know that I need to keep up with the running and working out and eating right. I know that the scale does not control my emotions (or rages). I know that I may be holding a fart because I sure have been bitchy lately.  Cause you all know that’s what happens, ladies. You hold it in=bitching. So toot away.

I’ve also decided that I’m bored with my diet and that is causing me to have asinine cravings for all things ridiculous.  Like a loaf of bread, toasted, with real butter, a crap-ton of honey, cinnamon, and let’s throw some peanut butter on there too (I don’t even like PB all that much).  And a burrito with no meat, just black beans and the fattiest Mexican rice you can find with guac, real sour cream, a pound of pepperjack cheese, 18  jalapeños and bacon bits all rolled up in a gianormous jalapeño flavored tortilla. And the world’s largest double chocolate chip cookie…with frosting and sprinkles on top.  And last night I did a big boo boo….I gave in to one of the craving spans from Hell and went for a Butterfinger ice cream shake thingy with whipped topping and a side of small cheese fries. Whoa. What is WRONG with me?! Don’t answer that.

I think I need to shake things up a bit in my nutrition.  I’m going to add more veggies and fruit to my diet.  Look out now…I’m getting all subsistence looney tunes!  I’ve been on this high protein, low fat, no carb thing for about 3 weeks and while I haven’t lost the HUGE amount of jiggle piled up on my ass (that I was really hoping would have vanished by now), I did lose a few pounds. But I miss my veggies and fruit.  And while I have some veggies every other day, it’s just not enough.  So we’re putting a little variety back into the lame-o Dukan/I’m-just-making-shit-up-as-I-go Diet.  Devil-span cravings be gone!  Plus, with me running & walking 25-odd miles each week/working out for an hour a day I think I need to be getting a little more fuel.

I guess I can talk about what my next ‘challenge’ is going to be….but I haven’t got a clue what I’m going to do. Anyone got any ideas???? I’m thinking of another running challenge, or maybe work on my ‘length’ of runs.  OK…I got it. Right now the longest I can run is 2 miles, right? Right. So, let’s say by next Sunday I have to be able to run 2.5 miles (without stopping).  Yeah, let’s do that.  So two weeks from now I should be a 2.5 mile running champion. Then the next week I can add more.  Then I can work on my times, after that.  Good deal-e-o. We’ll call it the 2.5 Mile Challenge. Yep, I came up with that all on my own. Don’t be jealous of my originality.

I haven’t been out running yet this week, I think my body is telling me to rest. I have a ridiculous blister on my Achilles tendon from my new tennies, and my left femur feels like someone is driving a screw driver through the bone. It feels good. But I’m starting back up tomorrow morning. I’ll need a little stress reliever tomorrow anyway.

By the way, blue raspberry Sour Jolly Ranchers are the best thing on this entire planet. Maybe even in the whole universe.  I had one today. It turned my tongue blue. It was awesome.

I know…I’m so random sometimes it’s freaky.

Giveaway to check out!

My friend Christy over at My Dirt Road Anthem: A Runner's Blog is doing a fun giveaway of Chocolate #9 Energy Gel. Go to the link above to her blog and enter!!

Here's what the website says about it:

Chocolate #9 is different because it:

• is sweetened only with organic agave.
• contains no refined sugar or other HIGH glycemic index sweeteners.
• has been – tested and certified – as a “LOW” glycemic index (GI) item.
• Chocolate #9 LOW GI gel reduces the negative effect of repetitive insulin “spiking” during sustained exercise.
• won’t cause a sugar high or a sugar low – bonk.
• is an excellent energy choice for endurance athletes.
• is suitable for most diabetics – and used by Team Type 1.
• is an excellent choice for those not wanting to eat refined sugar.
• is vegan, low fat and gluten free.
• contains no synthetics – no unpleasant aftertastes – tastes great.
• contains no “mystery” ingredients, colorings, or preservatives.
• is easy on the stomach.
• best of all — Chocolate #9 tastes great.

Sound pretty good.  Plus, if you order on their website there's free shipping! I'm gonna have to try this stuff!

You all know I have a (little) obsession with chocolate.

Lessons of a running moron + a finished Marathon Challenge.

Two things happened this weekend. One really bad and the other really good.  How they can be so polar opposite of each other, happening only 48 hours apart, only solidifies that my life is somewhat ridiculous.

Firs,t I had the absolutely worst pathetic excuse of basically a glorified walk on Sat. afternoon. Knowing that I had to get 5 miles in sometime on Sat I decided (although subconsciously) that I would be a moron and do everything in my power to make every mistake in the book to make that run horrendous.  Just like any other normal running human being.  Learn from my mistakes people.

Friday night we decided to go out to dinner and I'm sorry Sarah, but I stole Mr. Tortilla Chips out of your bed and we had a one night stand (don't worry Ryan, he means nothing to me.) = Mistake #1.  Then we lit the fire pit.  And I'm putting all blame on the fire pit that I drank around 10 beers and smoked a half a pack of cigs.  Huge Mistake #2. What can I say...genius decisions are made by this girl every day. 

"I'm going to get blitzed tonight so my run tomorrow is like torture. Yay!"

Then if that wasn't bad enough, instead of getting up early on Sat morning and running when it's nice and cool and I'm refreshed...nope, I decide to go to Ryan's Summer Work Event and have movie theater popcorn for breakfast, not one but TWO bowls of frozen custard (with every topping saturating the delicious treat), then 4 pieces of super greasy (but so yummy) pizza. Oh and a bucket of full-fat ranch dressing in there somewhere. Mistakes # 3,4,5 & 6.  After the work function I was in a food coma so I took a nap, hoping that when I woke up I'd feel better about my run.  Not so much. 

By the time I got all my workout gear on, the temp outside felt like 120 degrees. The sun was beating down on the pavement making the heat rising from the ground feel like I just entered the 7th realm of Hell.  But I trudged out (the Devil be damned), thinking that it couldn't be that bad.  Holy buckets of sweat....it was. Mistake #7.

I made it a whopping 1/2 mile before I thought my lungs were going to combust and shoot flames out of my mouth and my legs were going to just fall off my body and lay in little pools of goo on the sidewalk.  About mile 1.5 there was some shade, which helped my already extremely overheated body, but I still had only run that 1/2 mile...the rest was a measly little walk.  Then at mile 3, I'm about ready to call Ryan to drive the truck and come scrape me off the pavement when I notice that a house has sprinklers on in their yard.  I seriously moved in that direction and about trespassed to do a little happy dance in their spraying water before I saw movement in their window.  Better forgo that little adventure and possible future acquaintance of the Park City PD.  So I made it to a nearby 1976 Winnebago to lean on to get my breath (by this time I've only run about 1 mile and walked the rest) and it was here that I about lost all the frozen custard and pizza that I had inhaled a few hours before.  But I didn't. Thank the sweet Lord.

I managed to make it the full 5 miles. Pretty much walking most of the way. I bet I only ran 1.5 miles of it. This is what I looked like:

Shiny.

Wow. Dead sexy look I've got going on. (BTW...totally wearing a beer tank. Love it.)
That was the worst thing I have ever experienced. But I'm totally proud of myself that I actually made it through.  Hopefully I will learn from this and you will too.

Second is the really good thing.  I DID IT!!! I made it 26.2 miles in 7 days! I bet I ran half of the miles. I'm so proud of myself.  Yes, this morning I woke up to rain, but once the clouds parted I went out and finished up the last 6 miles of my Challenge.  It took me 1 hour and 20 minutes....but hey, that's OK!  I also ran another 2 miles without stopping and probably ran 3.5-4 miles out of the 6. 

How freaking opposite can you be on runs...in just 48 hours.  Holy shnikeezes.

Now, I am about to embark on some AMAZING smoked ribs that my hubby is making just for lil' ol' me.  If anyone would like to partake in that action....come on over. I will be on the deck drinking beer.
Peace out homies!

BYOC...Bring Your Own Crazy

It’s Friday so that means it’s BYOC day – Bring Your Own Crazy….to five questions we all answer in an effort to get to know each other better and to give our blog brains a break! Copy and paste to your own blog and ENJOY!

----So, I've never done this...but I love it when I read Draz's and everyone elses, so I thought it was high time to join the cool kids.----

1. How and why did you first start blogging? And how long have you been blogging?

I woke up one January morning in 2011 and said....'Laura, you just gained 10 pounds in 3 months by eating every Halloween candy, Turkey day dressing, and Christmas cookie within your reach.  It's time to stop.'  I had worked hard to get down to a lighter version of myself for my wedding (Sept. 2009), and in such a short time I went and screwed it up. Not surprising.  But not only did I want to lose the 10 pounds that I gained, I wanted to lose another 10 on top of that.  And most important, I wanted to get healthier.  I wanted better eating habits and I wanted to take on the Satan's Torture Device (treadmill).  I tried a lot of food tracking and whatnot, but I needed to write about my feelings. I've always kept a little journal to write in, so why not start a blog?! I didn't even know what a blog was! (Yes, even though I grew up in the 'technology age'. Pathetic, I know).  So I started writing, people started following, and I have met some unbelievably fantastic people through this journey. I don't think I'd still be doing this if I didn't have all your support. So THANK YOU!

2. Tell me about your perfect mate – if you could invent him/her?

Ryan Reynolds.

Just kidding...Really, you guys will laugh:  When I was 21 or 22 I was sitting on the porch of our house drinking brewskies with my roomies and this topic came up. "What's your dream man?"  I said: I want the whole tall, dark, handsome bit.  He has to be huge, because I love it when big arms wrap around me.  Then, he has to have a down-home country attitude, but have city boy background too.  Meaning he has to be all cowboy boots and ball caps, sweet and adorable, but he needs to be able to dress up in more than tight wranglers and know not to spit in public.  And city boys treat their women better than cowboys (at least that's true from where I'm from).  He has to love the outdoors, drive a big truck, make me laugh and work with his hands.  Oh, and good morals too. (Like how I just throw that in there last minute.)

About 4-5 years later I met Ryan.  He wears cowboy boots, but grew up in Kansas City with 800 kids in his graduating class.  He loves to hunt, fish, wakeboard, hike, etc. His truck was an enormous Dodge Ram. And he cleans up pretty good.  We have about the same personality and morals, which is a little scary but totally awesome. And he's HUGE! I'm talking about height ladies...get your minds outta the gutter. 6 foot 4 inches, size 13 shoe....basketball player (but could totally be a linebacker too.) He's perfect. My perfect man.  I got everything I asked for. And I am so lucky.

3. Do you wear fake eyelashes? Do you want to? Do you use glue or self-stick ones? Do you like how they look?

Nope. Na. Glue. Yep.  I have been blessed with dark thick lashes and one application of mascara is plenty. But I have always thought that it'd be neat to try one day....just don't know if I ever would. If I tried to apply them, I'd trip on the bathroom rug, knock my elbow on the sink and probably would glue my lids shut. Cursing like a sailor the whole time.

4. Let’s say money was no object and neither was time off to recover – are you an advocate of plastic surgery after weight loss?

Yes.  I'm actually an advocate for it even for non-weightloss reasons.  Completely selfish of me, but, I have a double chin. It's inherited. It sucks.  I would totally get that changed.  And I'd like to add a little more Ummph to my acorns.  So that I wouldn't have to wear push-up bras.  But I don't agree with people changing their entire body or face.  At least keep something of what God gave you people.!

5. Repeat question. Summarize your week in blog land and in real life.

Blog Land: Spectacular! I just love reading everyone's posts and keeping up with people.  You all inspire me and keep me going just by words!! I love it that I have found this.  And I'm getting more regular in posts and adding pictures and whatever.  So that's good.

Real Life:  I think I've run about 8 out of 15 miles this week. I don't even know who this person is.  My diet is still high protein, low fat, non-carb, and seems to be going really well. I feel energized and 'healthy'.  Who knew eating right and exercising could do that?!

The Running Gods have shined down upon thee....

Holy green shitballs!  HOLY MOLY! Good Mother of God. Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and PETER...plus Paul, St. Kitts, Sacajawea, Puff the Magic Dragon, and Fabio!!!

You will never...NEVER...guess what happened to me this morning.  Yes, bright and early at 5:30 (IN THE FREAKING A.M.!) morning.

It's monumental. It's like a dream. I'm actually wondering if I just made the whole thing up....Nope. I did it. For REAL!

I ran 2 miles this morning without stopping.  2 MILES!!

I was just jogging along and after the first mile I was a little winded and my legs were starting to ache but they still felt pretty good.  I mean, my lungs were still in one piece for sure. They didn't at all feel like a shriveled up deflated balloon. So, I kept going. And going. And going!  Pretty soon I'm rounding the corner and that spot that is the 'two mile' point. 

WHAT?!

Wiggity-Wiggee-WHHHAAAAATTT?!?!

Can I tell you that in the middle of the road I came to a screeching halt, looked up at the overcast sky, did a little nod to the Running Gods and did a little boogey dance complete with booty shake, jiving hips, snapping fingers, and arms in the air.  I bet I looked 'special'.

What a good Friday.

On another note: we almost got blown away last night.  Huge storms, swirling clouds, updrafts, and crazy lightening all around our house.  Not good.  Wyatt doesn't much care for hail. He'd kept going up to press his nose to the window to see what was making that ping-ping sound against the glass, then a 'big' hail would hit and he'd jump back 2 feet.  It was kinda hilarious. But the storm passed just leaving some much needed rain and {THANK YOU LORD} cooler temps.

I can add 4.95 miles and 1 hour to my Challenges. That means I have 10.95 miles left of the Marathon. I feel kinda badass.  Should I feel kinda badass?  Ummm....yeppers I should. I don't care if I'm tooting my own horn (haha I wrote toot), I've worked really hard this week. So I deserve it.

Believe it or not I'm thinking of going out running again tonight. 
Sometimes I wonder about my mental state.