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With a creative spirit also comes this irritating trait.

| cheriarmour

I’m horribly forgetful.  Horribly, horribly forgetful.  The only way I remember to keep my class schedule and show up to places is that I write every single thing, every single appointment down I have in an appointment  book, and once it’s written, it’s real.

Last week after a Zumba party…
Zumba Party

…I decided in order to keep up with my streak (more on that later), I needed to run, even though it was after 10pm.  But I didn’t want to miss my mile, my honey was gone for the weekend, and I was feeling antsy. So still wearing my Santa hat from the party, I drove to my old condo, which is in a super populated, well-lit area, don’t worry.  I parked my car, hid my keys somewhere in the car, and closed the door.  When I went to test the door to make sure it was still unlocked, I found, much to my immediate horror, that I had locked the door with my keys inside.

Damnit.

I called AAA from my phone, which I’d thankfully not locked in the car, and since in my experience, AAA takes years to get to you to unlock your car, I decided to go for my run, since it was also about 40 degrees out, and I wasn’t necessarily interested in freezing as I waited.  So down the road I went in my purple Moving Comfort jacket and Santa hat.  I’m sure I got a lot of strange looks.

Murphy’s Law must have been at work, because not a half-mile down the road, I got a call, which I answered mid-run from the tow-truck driver.

“Yeah I’ll be there in 10 minutes…”

And in the fastest lockout time in history, I arrived back to my car to the tow truck driver waiting on me.  So I jogged up, and explained to her why I was jogging around downtown at night with a Santa hat on.

Bruise

Now, in completely different news, I discovered this bruise the other night on my thigh, and I cannot, for the life of me, remember how or when I could have whacked myself so hard that me, being the dark-skinned girl that I am, could bruise like this. My forgetfulness at its finest…

Run Hack! #runhack #lifehack

Image | | cheriarmour

Run Hack! #runhack #lifehack

I am so excited to share my latest run hack with you guys – something to make your life a little easier. So, especially in the winter, standing around and waiting for my Garmin to hook up to the satellites is one of THE most annoying things ever. So to save time, I’ve been punching the watch, and setting it on the window sill to hook up with that satellites while I get dressed. By the time I’m ready to run, I go, and sometimes I’m literally able to run out the door, especially on days when I’m on a time crunch and I’m running with only minutes to go before work.

Hope this little hack saves you some time.  What are some of your running time savers?  

I was riding into work yesterday morning…

| cheriarmour

…And I have a pretty short commute to work, lucky for me, it’s only about 10 minutes long.  And I have a confession.

I hate, hate, hate morning radio.

It rarely appeals to anyone over the age of 12 because that’s exactly the kind of “humor” it plays to.  Infantile, juvenile, and often offensive, just like preteens tend to be.

Well, here in the great capital city of Raleigh, there’s this show called “Bob & the Showgram”.  And I won’t be a jerk, it’s not all bad.  From what I understand, Bob, the host of the show, had a brain tumor, and now he raises money for pediatric brain tumors.  And that’s awesome.  It is, however, one of the most offensive dark spots in an otherwise very progressive city.

At last year’s Christmas parade, someone at the station had the bright idea to suspend  “Tyrone the Black Christmas Fairy” from the bed of a pickup truck, which drew some really negative attention – even the Mayor had something to say about it.

Tyrone

There were even rumors that someone at the station was fired for it.  What escapes me is how suspending a black person from anything is a good idea, especially given the history of our country, but that’s another essay, for another blog, for another day.

So on my ride in, I happened to flip to that offending station, and around 9:00 am, Bob started making offensive comments about gay men.  Some of them are a little too much to repeat here, but it wrapped up with him comparing gay men to pedophiles.

I was floored. Is this 1950?  Firstly, sexuality isn’t necessarily something that needs to be discussed in the joking context of a morning program.  Secondly. comparing someones sexuality to deviant behavior that is damaging not only physically, but mentally, and spiritually to a child is beyond small-minded, it’s just wrong.

So I went to work, and in the course of the day, I emailed the program director at the station, Zac, and expressed my displeasure at the whole situation.  I got a response!

“Cheri,

Thanks for your email.

We met with the Morning Show after they got off the air.

We discussed the topic and how it could be offensive.

I really appreciate your feedback,

Zac”

I know it’s not much, but I’ll be damned, I made a teensy, tiny, itty-bitty little splash in the inbox of the director.  I know Bob has probably learned nothing, and will continue ranting on whatever, but I loved the feeling of making a little difference.

Okay, okay, enough about my birthday.

Image | | cheriarmour

Okay, okay, enough about my birthday.

I promise, I’m not one of those birthday extravaganza people who feel like I should get a bounce house for my 26th birthday party. I recognize no one cares about that day after like, age 21, but this was too good to share. On my birthday night, I went to a local bar with my sister and some friends, and we ran into a group of older gentlemen, ready for their night on the town. One, to whom I made very clear I was happily engaged and excited to get married, and not at all interested in anyone but my future husband, could not get enough of me, and honed in, especially once I mentioned to someone else that I just completed my second marathon. What ensued was the best picture to ever be captured by man.

My sister’s boyfriend managed to catch the guy not-so-subtly checking out the goods in a photo. I’ve censored it, but enjoy!

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!

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!

30 Days of Thanks

| cheriarmour

So, I think it’s easy to get wrapped up in the negative.  I’m a total social media junkie – I have an account on almost everything that there is to have, and it’s apparent – folks can usually go in one of two categories.  Humble braggarts (OMG my 17-month old totally just yelled at me in Spanish! WHAT! Jaja looks like those Spanish lesson are totally paying off! #blessed) or complainers (Are you EFFING kidding me I get to the front of the line in Starbucks and the rude whore behind the counter tell me they’re no longer serving RICE KRISPIES TREATS.  Day. Officially.  Ruined.  No one talk to me ever again.).

I try to fall into neither, and I do my fair share of humble bragging.  And to be totally fair about that, I work at the gym (part-time), and I work at fat camp.  So a lot of my tweeting/Facebooking/IGs/Snapchats may be workout of food related.  But I’ll admit it.  It happens.  So have me arrested.

So over the next 30 days, I’m gonna do my best to cut out the complaining.  Can’t guarantee you that about the humble bragging, so bye.  But we’re going to do 30 days of Thanks.  And we are gonna THANK. IT. UP.

Ready?

First day.  This one’s easy. It’s my brother’s 18th birthday.

FamilyBrother (Derek Jr.) is the tall one standing next to me.  I can’t believe it’s been 18 years, cause I totally remember the night before he was born (Halloween) and just staring out the window because my mother (understandably so) couldn’t take us trick-or-treating.  I honestly can’t remember if we ever got to trick-or-treat, but I do remember my brother was born the next day.  I’m thankful for him!  I’m thankful for family.  Some people don’t have that.  So for family, and for my brother on his 18th, I am thankful.  What are you thankful for?