Author: cheriarmour

I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling…

| cheriarmour

26.

26 has never looked so good.

Okay sike kinda.  Today is my 26th birthday, and I write to you, not from my fancy vacation, but from my desk on my way to work.  Since I’ve absolutely sucked at doing my 30 days of thanks, I’m gonna hit you with 26 incredible things that happened in the past year, and that I’m thankful for.  Here goes (in no particular order)!

  1. I ran two marathons in my 25th year.  Right before I turned 25, I ran my first half, and I guess I caught the bug.  More specifically, I ran two half marathons, 2 fulls, and I think one really fun 5k.
  2. I got engaged!  I was telling my mom yesterday, that I never would have thought that I’d meet someone I’d love enough to marry just 4 years after I graduated.  After I broke up with my college boyfriend, I really thought that was it for me, and I was content to live with my animals.  Seriously, before Austin I’d fallen into this dorky routine of working out, watching Dancing with the Stars, and getting into to bed before midnight most Fridays.  What a difference a few years makes, right?
  3. I learned about the power of networking.  They always say it’s not what you know but who you know.  And I’ll be gosh darned, they were right.  And I credit that with this next one.
  4. I got a social work job. After searching for what felt like 50 years.
  5. But I also worked full-time for Fleet Feet, a running specialty store, and I have to be honest with you, I’m still in love with the company, and I’d consider opening a store with my husband.  Bob and Kathy, my bosses, and my coworkers, are such amazing, good people, and working there really pushed me to be a better athlete.   I think that speaks for the company.  When your job creates a better and more competitive athlete out of you, that’s something special.
  6. I got my cat, Martin.  He is the worst behaved cat I’ve ever met.
  7. My grandmother passed away.  That is not the good part, obviously.  The good part, and the part that warmed my heart was the fact that all of us, all 3 of my siblings, and both of my parents were able to coordinate enough to get on planes and make it to her services on short notice. 
  8. I got to go to my second home, camp. It was just as beautiful as I remembered.  After my first summer there, I literally thought I’d never see the place again, and I would dream about coming back there at night.  I made it.  And I love those kids.
  9. I bought my first car.  When my ’99 Taurus died on me (transmission issue), I laid down and bawled, not sure what I was going to do.  Austin helped me through the process of buying a car, and I made my first real adult purchase, a little Lancer, with an equally little payment.  It’s perfect for me.
  10. I went through some interviews with some not-satisfactory results.  But you know what?  Every “failed” job prospect was a great learning opportunity, and I think I emerged from each experience a little stronger.  At the time, I was shaking my first and gnashing my teeth, if you will, but it was all for the best.
  11. My mom is still with us.  The same weekend I bought my new car I was actually signing the paperwork for my new car, when my mom called me.  “Hey.  What are you doing.  You sound kinda weird,” I’d said kinda causally.  “Oh, I just…well I’m in the hospital.  But everything’s okay!”  and the way the universe takes care of me is the minute I’d signed the paperwork on that new car, I was able to drive down and spend what would turn out to be a couple of weeks with my mom, who’d, as it turned out, had a small stroke at some point.  She’s doing better and better each day.
  12. My bank account is looking a little bit better than it was, this time last year.  Praise.  Let’s keep that thing on the rise.
  13. I got a library card.  Maybe now I can stop pouring money into my Kindle.
  14. I chose a wedding venue!  Kinda superficial, but I had a rough go of it for a while!
  15. My siblings are all successful, productive members of society.  Not everyone can say that.  Armours. Bettah. Werk.
  16. I attended my 4th Elon University Homecoming (nearly didn’t make it out alive, as you’ll remember last weekend), and now I’m considering become even more involved with my alma mater, and not just offering my meager financial support.  I really don’t mind giving back to the school that literally taught me how to become a grown up.
  17. I have great friends.  I worked at Fleet Feet the other night, and fell right back into an old pattern like no time had passed.   The same of Elon Homecoming, it truly felt like no time had passed.
  18. I got closer with my friends.  And this year, I vow to be an even better friend if it kills me.  More coffee dates, more phone calls, more visits.  I’ve let it get a leetle too far in between some friend dates.  My sincere apologies, ladies and gents.
  19. I participated in one FANTASTIC wedding, which was fun from start to finish.  My good friend Alexa got married in May, and since I was a bridesmaid, I got to participate as far as getting a cute dress, contributing to her bachelorette weekend in Asheville (which meant I got to run in some crisp mountain air), and I got to celebrate her wedding….
  20. And I attended the wedding of another good friend in Cincinnati.  And it was like an Elon reunion all over again.  All this to say, guys, I’m sorry, if you notice a few similarities between your wedding and mine – but they both were so different and so beautiful, that I’d love to try and recreate these moments all over again.
  21. I started doing yoga.  Actually on January 1st, I started, and I credit that with singlehandedly allowing me to get through my first marathon without hurting anything.
  22. My home.  Admittedly, I miss my old condo, the one I lived in when I started this blog.  I had to move because the owner sold it (or is trying to sell it for way more than it’s worth, but that’s just my two cents).  But as I strolled through my apartment this morning, freshly vacuumed and smelling nice, I was thankful for my toasty little nook in the woods.  Often, when I run, I look under bridges that I pass, and I’ll often see vestiges off a little home there.  Foodstuffs, blankets, sometimes and old mattress.  And I thank God that I have a warm place to lay my head at night.
  23. This blog.  I raised some money last year, and I really appreciate for people to tell me when they’ve been following along.  I mean, I love to hear myself talk, so I’d prolly continue writing even if I suspected that only cats are reading my blog, but man, I’m happy and grateful that this blog “happened,” so to speak.
  24. This country.  Things are a hot mess.  But we live in the best nation in the world.  Run and tell dat.
  25. My health.  I continue to be amazed at where I can push my body.  Part of the reason for the tears at the finish of each marathon is to thank heavens that my body is able to hold up for that long, and recover quickly.  Not everyone can say that.  I hope they can, eventually.
  26. Real Housewives of Atlanta is back on.  And I really don’t need to say much more about that.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, for reading, and thank goodness for another year.  Here’s to 26 being another good one!

It’s getting cold in the Carolinas.

| cheriarmour

And it’s horrible.  I’m horribly cold-blooded, and yesterday, it wasn’t cold enough for me not to run.  So I suited up before work, and did a quick few miles.

At some point, between 9 and 5, the temperature absolutely plummeted from kinda cold, to I-want-to-cry cold.  It kinda started sleeting, everyone in the area started driving like idiots, and I had never been more grateful for my short 10-minute commute.

I’d planned, before work, to go to the Zumba class of a ZES, a Zumbalebrity, charged with the task of licensing us teachers.  I’d never taken class with her, as I was licensed by the fabulous and now-retired Koh Herlong, but it was time.  I’ve seen her on the DVDs and on the video game, and it was time to see what she was all about.

But it was cold. And sleeting.  And I made the mistake of lying on the nap couch in my living room with Shahs of Sunset lulling me to sleep in the background. 

I woke up with a cat staring at me, and about 30 minutes until class started.  I asked myself a few questions.

  • Did you tell someone you’d meet them at class? (Yep, one of my students was meeting me with a pass to enter the gorgeous Lifetime Family Fitness, and I hate for people to regard me as a flake.
  • Did I feel physically capable of going?  (Yes.  I’d only run like two miles that morning, and I felt more than capable of dancing for an hour without hurting myself.)
  • Did I mentally feel like going? (Not really.  It was cold out.  And it was dark.  But if I didn’t go, I’d probably feel really bad, especially since I had no real reason to be playing hooky from the class.)

But I peeled myself off the couch, and I went.  And boy, am I glad I went.  Loretta is beautiful.  And not only was she beautiful, she’s not an education specialist for nothing.  Geez, this woman could teach her butt off, and she shared the stage with a few long-time students and teachers that she plucked from the crowd.

lorettabates

 

I’d be lying if I said working out has been easy since I started working in an office full-time.  It has been a constant struggle.  When I worked full-time at Fleet Feet, I didn’t generally have to be in until 9:45, and I was usually gone by 7:30.  I was surrounded by like-minded folks, who really put an emphasis on their health.  Now that I’ve entered the land of the office workers, not so much.  I’m largely alone in the fight to stay active, and it makes it hard to stay motivated.  Thankfully, I still work at the gym, and at the running store here and there, and it’s just enough to keep me motivated to keep doing what I’m doing.

As the holidays draw near, and everyone in the office starts bringing their holiday best, as far as meals go, the struggle to stay sexy is so real, but I am daily recommitting myself to not become some of the millions who become grownups….and gain 40 pounds.  But dang, it’s hard!

I went to the gastroenterologist.

| cheriarmour

If you’ve been following along carefully, as I’m sure you have, you’ll recall that mid-26.2, I was halted by a sudden urgency to vomit.  And 18 miles into my second marathon, I left my DNA all over someone’s lawn somewhere between Elon and Greensboro North Carolina.

I’d been experiencing some GI discomfort since I got food poisoning in September, and my GP’s explanation just wasn’t cutting it for me.  Plus, anytime I ate anything, or even looked at food the wrong way, I’d wake up in horrid pain.

So, since I had the appointment, I didn’t have work, so I dressed extra cute for the occasion.  I so rarely look good in public due to the fact that I work out, so when I do dress like a regular human being, I really take it up a notch.  Even put on the Spanx under.   I felt so cute, in fact, that I took the requisite bathroom selfie for my viewing pleasure later on.

knit
Look at the sheer volume of running shoe that is behind my head…

“Work, honey!” I said to myself.

And off to the stomach Dr. I went.

Dr. H: Tell me what’s going on!

Me:  [I describe my symptoms to him] Sir, I also threw up in the middle of a marathon.

Dr. H: A marathon?! What is that, like twenty…whatever.  That’s extreme.

Me:  Well, bye, I never usually throw up when I run so…

Dr. H:  [points at the remnants of my green breakfast smoothie] What is that?  Does that bother your stomach? I bet! [I start to kind of wiggle from buttcheek to cheek here]. Do you drink alcohol?  [I wince right over here].  How about gum…do you chew gum? [I start to fidget in my seat, and bounce my ballet-flatted foot around]. How about coffee.  You drink coffee?

Then, being the brilliant, educated young woman I am, I have to explain to Dr. H that I wore Spanx to a gastroenterology appointment, and that he’ll have to excuse me while I wrangle my body out of the giant compression sock I sewed myself into that morning in order for him to you know, examine me.  I thought we were just gonna chat!  He looked really confused.  I’m sorry, dude.  I wasn’t thinking.

His verdict?

It’s acid-related (duh), either an ulcer, or some lovely hydrocholoric acid splashing to and fro in my stomach.  So the grand list of things I’m no longer allowed to do.

  • No ibuprofen.  I told you I just finished my 2nd marathon, right?
  • No gum. ::blank stare::
  • No more smoking cigarettes.  Okay, doc, gotcha covered. No prob.  That’s the one thing I know I don’t do.
  • Citrus is bad.  So that smoothie I drink every morning?  With pulpy delicious OJ as the base?  Apparently was just tearing my stomach to shreds.
  • No coffee/caffeine.  Is this a joke?  This is a joke, right?
  • No kombucha. My will to live is dwindling.
  • No mint and chocolate.  The only candy I eat is York Peppermint Patties.
  • No Italian, tomato-y food.  
  • No alcohol.  Is beer included in that?

And the kicker?  I have to get scoped the day before Thanksgiving, to see how bad my stomach lining is.  But on the plus side, it’s a pretty simple procedure, and they’ll IV me up with the same stuff that Michael Jackson used to use to get to sleep.  Lucky for me, Dr. Conrad Murray doesn’t have his medical license, so I think I should be decent on, you know, living and stuff.

Alright guys, I’ve already done really awesome, I’m chewing a piece of Eclipse as I write this, and I just slammed a glass of ice water with lemon as a garnish.  Jesus take the wheel.

I overdid it. Now what?

| cheriarmour

I celebrated Elon University’s Homecoming this past weekend.  Elon is many things.  It’s beautiful, stunningly beautiful.  The student body is smart, attractive, and critical thinkers.  And…we know how to throw a party.  I’m not really going to get into what all I ate/drank yesterday, but suffice it to say, it was off my normal nutritional path.

Homecoming

So, with the holidays approaching, it may happen.  To me, to you, we may overindulge in drinks, food, and feel terrible about ourselves for the rest of the day.  So what do we do when we overindulge?  With the help of our friend, hot mom, Maria Kang, I’ve compiled a few tips to help you beat after-overdoing it despair.  Not that I’d know…

  • If you can, make a plan so that you don’t actually overdo it.  Two Thanksgivings ago, my sister made an amazing pumpkin pie.  I ate SO much pie, that I felt sick for like two days after.  If I’d approached that meal a little more reasonably (like only had a teeny bit of everything), I probably would have saved myself a ton of grief.  Plan.  Plan.  Plan.

So you’ve actually overdone it, and you feel like you need to be rolled to you car…

  • Don’t do this. “Well the day’s already gone to hell, might as well eat everything in sight.” Don’t starve yourself either, though.  Take it one meal at a time.  And your next meal?  It might not be a bad idea to eat something nice and light, so at the very least, you don’t feel like crap the next day.  A salad, some veggies, just something that won’t make you feel like you’ve compounded your issues.
  • Drink water.  For me, it feels like the water flushes out some of the nasty you’ve had.  If you’ve had a meal high in sodium or fat in particular, this tip works wonders.
  • Work out!  This probably isn’t the time for your 20-miler.  And it SHOULD NOT, should not, be viewed as a punishment for yourself.  Just go for a brisk walk to kind of get the gross moving.
  • Do better.  Just move on.  You had a good time, and got a little rowdy with libations.  Next time, plan for better, and try to recommit to healthy foods for the rest of the week.

Do you guys have any tips you like to follow to get back on track after a particularly gnarly meal?

I cried in Hot Yoga yesterday.

| cheriarmour

It’s fiiine, the teacher told us we hold a lot of tension in our hips, so it’s not uncommon to get emotional.  Luckily, at that point, it was like pitch-black in there, and the sweat was running in rivulets down my face, so it all looked the same.  Right?  That’s what I keep telling myself anyways.  Having a better time of it than this guy, who posted his mat for sale on Craigslist….

Yoga mat for sale. Used once.

Yoga mat for sale. Used once at lunch hour class in December 2009. Usage timeline as follows: 

11:45a
Register for hot yoga class. Infinite wisdom tells me to commit to 5 class package and purchase a yoga mat. I pay $89.74. Money well spent, I smugly confirm to myself. 

11:55a
Open door to yoga room. A gush of hot dry air rushes through and past me. It smells of breath, sweat and hot. Take spot on floor in back of room next to cute blonde. We will date. 

11:57a
I feel the need to be as near to naked as possible. This is a problem because of the hot blonde to my left and our pending courtship. She will not be pleased to learn that I need to lose 30 pounds before I propose to her. 

11:58a
The shirt and sweats have to come off. I throw caution to the wind and decide to rely on my wit and conditioning to overcome any weight issues my fiancée may take issue with. This will take a lot of wit and conditioning. 

11:59a
Begin small talk with my bride to be. She pretends to ignore me but I know how she can be. I allow her to concentrate and stare straight ahead and continue to pretend that I don’t exist. As we finish sharing our special moment, I am suddenly aware of a sweat moustache that has formed below my nose. This must be from the all the whispering between us. 

12:00p
Instructor enters the room and ascends her special podium at the front of the room. She is a slight, agitated Chinese woman. She introduces me to the class and everyone turns around to greet me just as I decide to aggressively adjust my penis and testes packed in my Under Armor. My bride is notably unfazed. 

12:02p
Since I do have experience with Hot Yoga (4 sessions just 5 short years ago) I fully consider that I may be so outstanding and skilled that my instructor may call me out and ask me to guide the class. My wife will look on with a sparkle in her eye. We will make love after class. 

12:10p
It is now up to 95 degrees in the room. We have been practicing deep breathing exercises for the last 8 minutes. This would not be a problem if we were all breathing actual, you know, oxygen. Instead, we are breathing each other’s body odor, expelled carbon dioxide and other unmentionables. (Don’t worry, I’ll mention them later.) 

12:26p
It is now 100 degrees and I take notice of the humidity, which is hovering at about 90%. I feel the familiar adorning stare of my bride and decide to look back at her. She appears to be nauseated. I then realize that I forgot to brush my teeth prior to attending this class. We bond. 

12:33p
It is now 110 degrees and 95% humidity. I am now balancing on one leg with the other leg crossed over the other. My arms are intertwined and I am squatting. The last time I was in this position was 44 years ago in the womb, but I’m in this for the long haul. My wife looks slightly weathered dripping sweat and her eyeliner is streaming down her face. Well, “for better or worse” is what we committed to so we press on. 

12:40p
The overweight Hispanic man two spots over has sweat running down his legs. At least I think its sweat. He is holding every position and has not had a sip of water since we walked in. He is making me look bad and I hate him. 

12:44p
I consider that if anyone in this room farted that we would all certainly perish.

12:52p
It is now 140 degrees and 100% humidity. I am covered from head to toe in sweat. There is not a square millimeter on my body that is not slippery and sweaty. I am so slimy that I feel like a sea lion or a maybe sea eel. Not even a bear trap could hold me. The sweat is stinging my eyeballs and I can no longer see. 

12:55p
This room stinks of asparagus, cloves, tuna and tacos. There is no food in the room. I realize that this is an amalgamation of the body odors of 30 people in a 140 degree room for the last 55 minutes. Seriously, enough with the asparagus, ok? 

1:01p
140 degrees and 130% humidity. Look, bitch, I need my space here so don’t get all pissy with me if I accidentally sprayed you with sweat as I flipped over. Seriously, is that where this relationship is going? Get over yourself. We need counseling and she needs to be medicated. Stat!

1:09p
150 degrees and cloudy. And hot. I can no longer move my limbs on my own. I have given up on attempting any of the commands this Chinese chick is yelling out at us. I will lay sedentary until the aid unit arrives. I will buy this building and then have it destroyed. 
I lose consciousness. 

1:15p
I have a headache and my wife is being a selfish bitch. I can’t really breathe. All I can think about is holding a cup worth of hot sand in my mouth. I cannot remember what an ice cube is and cannot remember what snow looks like. I consider that my only escape might be a crab walk across 15 bodies and then out of the room. I am paralyzed, and may never walk again so the whole crab walk thing is pretty much out. 

1:17p
I cannot move at all and cannot reach my water. Is breathing voluntary or involuntary? If it’s voluntary, I am screwed. I stopped participating in the class 20 minutes ago. Hey, lady! I paid for this frickin class, ok?! You work for me! Stop yelling at everyone and just tell us a story or something. It’s like juice and cracker time, ok? 

1:20p
It is now 165 degrees and moisture is dripping from the ceiling. The towel that I am laying on is no longer providing any wicking or drying properties. It is actually placing additional sweat on me as I touch it. My towel reeks. I cannot identify the smell but no way can it be from me. Did someone spray some stank on my towel or something? 

1:30p
Torture session is over. I wish hateful things upon the instructor. She graciously allows us to stay and ‘cool down’ in the room. It is 175 degrees. Who cools down in 175 degrees? A Komodo Dragon? My wife has left the room. Probably to throw up. 

1:34p
My opportunity to escape has arrived. I roll over to my stomach and press up to my knees. It is warmer as I rise up from ground level – probably by 15 degrees. So let’s conservatively say it’s 190. I muster my final energy and slowly rise. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. Towards the door. Towards the door. 

1:37p
The temperature in the lobby is 72 degrees. Both nipples stiffen to diamond strength and my penis begins to retract into my abdomen from the 100 degree temp swing. I can once again breathe though so I am pleased. I spot my future ex wife in the lobby. We had such a good thing going but I know that no measure of counseling will be able to unravel the day’s turmoil and mental scaring. 

1:47p
Arrive at Emerald City Smoothie and proceed to order a 32 oz beverage. 402 calories, 0 fat and 14 grams of protein — effectively negating any caloric burn or benefit from the last 90 minutes. I finish it in 3 minutes and spend the next 2 hours writing this memoir. 

3:47p
Create Craigslist ad while burning final 2 grams of protein from Smoothie and before the “shakes” consume my body. 

4:29p
Note to self – check car for missing wet yoga towel in am. 

  • Location: Bellevue
  • it’s NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
the yoga mat returns!  
   

Engagement anxiety – a wedding post.

| cheriarmour

I was, and am thrilled to be getting married.  Absolutely thrilled.  I’m still in disbelief that someone wants to marry me, but that’s another discussion for another day.

We finally put a deposit down on the venue, and I feel like such a huge weight is lifted.   I literally, to the chagrin of me darling neighbors, did a Rockettes-styled dance when I hung up the phone with Jeremy, my point person at the venue.  The search for a venue was a frustrating one – especially because there’s no real indication of whats in your price range and what’s not until you visit a place.  And then they tell you it’s a $20,000 food minimum.  And then you die kinda.

Meadow
Here it is, the beautiful place where we will be getting married August 23, 2014.

Kudos to all you brides that make it look like you spent a year to a year-and-a-half enjoying making wedding plans over a bubbly pedicure with little flutes of champagne, and your wedding binder in your lap, but whatever.  I am SO not that bride.  Well, not yet.

There’s a little bit of anxiety that comes with being engaged, anxiety about the fact that you’re in this state of limbo, not a girlfriend, but not yet a wife, and you’re expected to run around with clouds around your feet, singing songs, and spreading your arms wide when you hit the high notes.  And any shred of anxiety is supposed to mean that you’re making a huge mistake, right?  Wrong.

Yes, I’m wearing a beautiful diamond ring, and I literally cannot wait to walk down the aisle and become an official family with Austin.  But the diamond doesn’t transcend all, and daily things and logistics about the wedding will create anxiety.  In the span of time since I’ve gotten engaged, I lost my grandmother, moved apartments suddenly, and started a new job, so arrest me for being a little off-kilter.

Additionally, the pressure from other people adds to this.  People making demands as far as their invites, worries about money, logistics of getting 150 folks into your city and housed, fed, and drinked for a night, complaints from family members about your choice of dress, hairstyle, the venue – these all will add to some of your anxiety.

So brides-to-be, listen here.  If you’re feeling a little overwhelmed, and you’re worried that your worry is a sure sign that you’re a freak, destined to be alone forever, chill out.  You’re not the only one and your worry is normal.  Relax and remember that in a few months, you’re about to throw the party of the dang century.  Cheers!

La Boulange blows (at Starbucks)

| cheriarmour

So you guys know, I’m like super serious about my coffee right?  Ever since I’ve started to experience some GI issues, I’ve had to switch to decaf, which was sort of hard, but the fact is, if I’m consuming something that could potentially burn holes into the lining of my stomach, it’s time to make some changes.

I love my Starbucks. To date, one of the best gifts that I’ve ever gotten came from Debbie last year.  It was a Kindle gift certificate + a Starbucks gift card.  Incredible, and awesome on the budget, cause my budgeting software didn’t have to know that I was still visiting Starbucks at least once a week.

So, the food at Starbucks has always sucked.  That’s just a given, you don’t go the Starbucks to enjoy their scones and rice krispies treats right?

So I was delighted when I heard that Starbucks had worked out a huge deal with La Boulange, a popular bakery in San Francisco, and that they’d be bringing those treats to their stores.  I’d heard great things about La Boulange, so why wouldn’t it be great?  Well leave it to a huge corporation to screw it up.

Boulange

Finally, La Boulange made it to a store near me, here in Raleigh.  I figured, if for nothing else, let me try this food to try to report to my sweet blog followers what I’d found.  Okay.  I ordered one of those croissant things with the like treat cooked into the middle.  I went with a tomato-y and cheese one.  It was prior to nutrition facts being posted, and I couldn’t find them online, so I took my best educated guess as to what my best option was.

It was so gross.  Not a little gross, it was super nasty.  It was soggy in the middle, and smelled like cafeteria food.  So of course, I ate it.

It was soggy.  And that’s all I need to say.  The minute I get something soggy, I’m out folks.

I’ve researched the choices Starbucks had made, as well, by checking up on the nutrition facts that they’ve posted (thank you, thank you Jesus for folks now being required to post those), and it’s awful.  Barely anything under 300 calories, and the one “healthy” item?  The reduced fat pumpkin cream cheese loaf which weighs in with 10g of fat and 34g of sugar?  Uhhh, no thanks, I’m totally good.

Long story short, I’m sure La Boulange is awesome.  I love boulangeries, and I actually worked in a bakery for some time after grad school.  I have nothing against delicious treats.  But when someone comes in and perverts them?  Oh yes, we’ve got big problems.

Thanks overload.

| cheriarmour

On Friday, I told you guys I was thankful for my brother.  Still am.  Kid is taking his SATs Saturday, so send him your good vibes, PS.

Saturday, I stepped outside of my house, and it literally smelled like a Yankee Candle, “Autumn Sunrise” or something.  I stood and sniffed the air for a few seconds before I had to be over at the stinky gym.  Scents just weren’t the same.  I am so thankful for beautiful weather here in NC in the fall.

On Sunday, I was extra grateful for that extra hour – it allowed me to wake up a little earlier, pour myself a mimosa, and go cheer on some friends in the City of Oaks Marathon – a move that would prove to be deadly, as, for some ungodly reason, I’m considering another one.  If I tell you guys I’m running another one before our wedding, slap the shit out of me.  I don’t have time to be running 20 miles on Sunday mornings right now.  Halfs (halves, idk!) are fine, fulls are off-limits.  Unless I get a really good deal on Rock n’ Roll Raleigh.  Ugh. What is wrong with me?

Today, I’m so grateful that I was able to lace up a pair of shoes and head out the door before work for a quick run.  It means that when I’m done with work, I’m DONE, and I get to go home and enjoy my evening, without the pressure of a looming workout standing between me and dinner.  It’s wonderful to get your assignments done before they’re actually due, huh?