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Disgusting things that happen to you when you run.

| cheriarmour

Still at my parents’.  And being home has afforded me the opportunity to take care of my mom, but also to work out a ton, and run a lot.  Like.  To the point where I have become so sexy, that my Raleigh friends are gonna be all “Whaaaaa” when I roll up in my Lancer. 

So I’m running yesterday.  And I really’d hit my groove.  Cruising down this hilly country road.  About  a mile-and-a-half from home.  And it hits me.  

Evidently, there’s a some sort of *ahem* poo treatment plant hidden behind the hills of gorgeous Weddington.  It’s pretty steamy out here, and I guess it, like, cooked the smell.  Because midway through my run, I literally doubled over, and had to feebly cover my nose with a finger as the smell of steamed poop assaulted me.  So much for the thrilling, reflective, country run I was going to blog about.  

Then I go to wash all my stanky clothes I’ve built up from the last week.  Pull them out after they were washed.  Did the sniff test.  And they still stank.  Pretty girls don’t smell too pretty, right Tyra?  (10 points for anyone who can name the Top Model candidate who said that).  And I left my Sport Wash back in Raleigh, so I had to fashion some out of white vinegar, and Wisk.  Ugh.  Good luck to me.  Running is not for the faint of heart. 

Green Smoothie Recipe

| cheriarmour

I’m blogging from the extreme comfort of my smart phone because the interwebs at my parents’ is a little spotty…but the show must go on!

Okay, so selfie time!

20130620-004725.jpg

Yous can’t get enough of my selfies, huh?

Anyhoo, I’m gonna tell you what to buy at Harris Teeter to make yourself a bomb-ass green smoothie, choc-full of protein and iron and vitamin c and stuff. You will be energized as HECK!

Go to the sto. Get,

  • Some Trop 50 (cut the sugar and calories, keep the nutrients)
  • A bag of a frozen fruity mix. Strawberries, mango, and pineapple usually come in the mix.
  • A box of organic baby spinach. Or a bag. Whatevs.
  • Plain, fat-free, and unflavored Greek Yogurt.

Borrow your mom’s Vitamix. Or just use your cheap Oster that was all you could afford on your post-grad salary. Either way. Grab two handfuls of spinach, two large spoonfuls of yogurt, and top it off with a bit of the frozen fruit. Pour a little bit of Trop 50 in there and blend.

Does it look like baby poop? Yes. Does it taste awesome? Mmmm-hmm. Are you gonna feel like a billion bucks. Duh. Thank me later!

NRR (Not running related), but there are good people in this world.

| cheriarmour

Number 1, Lancer Armstrong is starting to smell a little funky from me running, and then getting directly into my car.  I desperately need one of those like poop guards you put on your seats to sop up all the run sweat that’s started to accumulate on my seats since I’ve been home.  Usually, in Raleigh, I just run, and run straight into the shower.  Here, since my parents live a little further out, I usually have to drive, and that’s creating a stinky sitch in my car.  Your recommendations are welcome, it’s starting to get gross.

So I was heading home from the Titanic Y today, and it’d rained a a ton.  As I was heading down the two-lane home, I realized that I was driving directly over a poor little turtle, who looked scared for his life.  So I’m a huge dork, and I whipped my car around, all the while screaming and crying that nothing better happen to my new friend, the turtle.

As I approached the turtle from the other direction, and flicked on the hazards, a women pulled up to my left and stopped.

A couple pulled behind me, and blocked any traffic from coming up behind us.

And together, the four of us made sure the turtle got off the road safely.

Warmed my dorky heart.  There are still good people in this world.

The Coolest Piece of Equipment you’ve Never Seen.

| cheriarmour

So I’ve been working out.  A lot since I’ve been home.  I spend the day cleaning up, cooking, straightening, and then I get a decent chunk of workout time that I may not get when I’m at home.  When I’m at home, it’s just squeeeeeze in my workout where I can, and there’s not a concerted focus on making each workout dynamic.  All that to say, I’ve gotten a lot of time to dynamically werk it owt.

So the YMCA I grew up in was the Siskey Y, this sprawling behemoth of a Y.  It’s gorgeous.  Pools, a waterpark, clean, large facilities, lots of light, and a lot of programming for the community.  The Siskey was kind enough to recognize my employment at the YMCA of the Triangle while my mom’s been sick, and they’ve allowed me to work out – especially helpful on the humid, hot-as-hell days that North Carolina has.

I did my usual.  I ran on the treadmills, which were pretty sick – each treadmill was equipped with its own television, which makes running for an hour or more a little more bearable, minus the commercials.  And then I saw it.

Ladder

This was the stuff of ‘Biggest Loser’ legend, something I’d only seen Jillian Michaels screaming at, while a poor sweaty workout-newbie cried as s/he climbed to nowhere. I kind of circled the machine for a while, and finally, I dashed in after a sweaty guy stumbled off. I fastened the seatbelt around my waist (the belt controls how fast the ladder moves), and I got going.

So the way it works.  It’s kind of like a treadmill ladder.  The lower you climb, the slower it goes, but the higher you climb, the faster the belt moves.  So I designed a little interval workout for myself.  2 minute warmup, then one minute at a moderate climb, and 45 seconds of a killer climb for 5 passes.  It was awesome.  I was drenched.  My stomach looks like Patrick Schwarzenegger’s.  Wow.  No, but really.  I live for machines like this one, that deliver a pretty hefty punch in a short amount of time.  (The rowing machine is my favorite one in a whole gym usually).  So if you’re looking for a cool workout that’s good for your core, good for hand-eye coordination, good to confuse your metabolism with the old switcheroo, and something that will make you sweat, see if you can’t find one of these.

My only disclaimer? Germs run rampant and unchecked on this bad boy.  You’re sweating, like directly on the machine, and your hands are going where your feet were, it’s all very nasty.  Wipe it down before, wipe it down after, and then walk over to the Purex machine, and go nuts.  

Happy Father’s Day

| cheriarmour

Dad

This is my dad.

My dad is a very cool guy (obvi). Very smart, very chill. And a very good dad, and all-around good person.

A little story to illustrate that? Don’t mind if I do.

So when I was a kid, we lived in Long Island. My dad worked for Lehman Brothers during the week (which is no longer a thing), http://www.lehman.com/ and my mom worked for Century 21 on the weekends.  So on the weekends, we got our dad all to ourselves.  He took us to see pee-wee football, took us to Taco Bell (which was a big deal back then, shut up), he took us to Chuck-e-Cheeses even though it was no one’s birthday, and on one occasion, took us apple-picking for like 500 hours, let us get all dirty, and to my mother’s horror, brought 3 dirty children to her office for her co-workers to see.

On this particular weekend, it was kind of cloudy and cold.  My dad called all of us outside to see this tiny bitty bird that had been sick or injured or something, and who’d fallen into the little divet thing by the basement window.  The bird was still alive, so my dad put on some of my mom’s heinous yellow kitchen gloves and picked the bird up, and he put it in the basement, where, over the next few days, we proceeded to feed the bird raisin bran in an effort to save its life.  Apparently, that bird really needed fiber, because over the week, the bird strengthened, and we were able to let it go.  But the coolest part?  So animals are incredible judges of character.  And the bird, days after we’d let it go, flew back to the house and sat on my dad’s hand, almost like, “Thanks Dude, ‘preciate that cereal, see you soon,” all whilst my grandmother and my mom hooted and hollered about my dad hanging out with this dirty creature.

So Happy Father’s Day to all the dad’s that provided their kids with insanely beautiful memories like this one.  We don’t forget it.

 

This is kind of a serious question.

| cheriarmour

Well, as serious as I possibly get.

So you guys know, Sex and the City continues to be one of my favorite shows.  My roommate freshman year had all the seasons on DVD, and we lived together for all four years in college, so we made our way through each and every episode a multitude of times.

My favorite SATC moments? Questions that have arisen from SATC?

  • When Aiden was going to propose to Carrie, and she found the ring.  AND IT WAS GOLD AND PEAR-SHAPED?!  And then come to find out that MIRANDA HAD HELPED HER FIND IT?!  Like what in the world?  What kinda friend…
  • Why did Carrie screw it up with Aiden?  Big is fine or whatever, but Aiden was a catch.  An absolutely catch.
  • Remember when Miranda threw out her neck running that marathon (with that weirdo guy), and Aiden came over and picked her up off the ground?
  • Charlotte’s random classes she always was in.  The tap class and the African dance class were my personal faves.
  • Ugh, totally screw that Berger guy.  He was not a man.  How do you break up with a girl on a Post-It note because she’s more successful than you?
  • The entire SATC movie was a favorite moment.  It was dazzling.
  • When Samatha fed Carrie during her “honeymoon” without Big.

But enough of that.  Onto the real question.

Carrie Bradshaw

Carrie claims her only cardio is shopping. Carrie smokes (gross). Carrie complains when she has to walk Pete, Aiden’s adorable dog, and she does so in these impossible shoes. If all this is true, and Carrie is not sneaking in time on the elliptical and lifting in between writing her column and breaking Natasha’s teeth (10 points for whomever can describe that episode to me!), than how are Carrie Bradshaw’s abs so impeccable?  Can anyone answer me that?

5k Update!

| cheriarmour

So I started to get a little itchy when I was at home.

I’ve been keeping up with all my workouts.  I’ve been spending more time in the gym, and if you live on the East Coast, you understand why.  It has stormed nonstop just about every day since I’ve been home.  But after my visit to Charlotte Running Company, and my discovery of that 5k series about an hour away, I signed up, and there I was! 

First off.  I have never been so late to a race in my life.  I rolled our of my house super early and encountered some traffic due to a, get this, pickup truck that was towing a car.  Rubberneckers almost made me late to my race?  Seriously guys?  So once I got there, I literally jogged to the registration table, snatched up my race number, and jogged down the start.  I don’t suggest this to anyone.  Leave enough time for traffic, for rubberneckers, for whatever may go wrong.  That was stressful, and not a good way to start a race.

So the 5k began, and it was literally the hottest and most humid race I’ve ever participated in in my entire life.

Hot 5k

This is me after the race, looking like a sweaty shrimp. I had to run shirtless, and fantasized about all the things I could drink as I dragged through the course. The air was like swimming through soup, and the fact that I could see Lake Norman along the course, and that I couldn’t touch it, really wasn’t helping.  So we finished, and I stuck around for awards, and found out I won my age group, 25-29, for the 5k.  Cool!

I think for the minute, my thirst to get out of the house and do something competitive has been quenched 🙂

I’m the worst traitor, and runners are the nicest people in the whole world.

| cheriarmour

So I’m settling in at home.  Still trying to keep up with training, even though I haven’t picked a fall race yet.  And I realized yesterday, as I huffed and puffed through NC humidity, that I’d forgotten any type of hydration back at home in Raleigh.  Dang it.  That won’t work.

So I googled a running place, and slunk in.  Slunk, because I work in running specialty and I felt like such a jerk for being there.  But while I’m there, I may as well check out what they’re working with, right?

I walk in.  Put my Hater Shades on. And…our store looks SO much hotter.  Score.

So I’m trying to find something, anything wrong with this adorable store, none of which is real or true, to make myself feel better about shopping at a competitor.  Truthfully, I went into the store, the Charlotte Running Company, and it was cute, clean, well set-up, and the folks were so nice, even as some of my weird questions about the Hokas they carried revealed to them where, and for whom I worked.   When they found out I’d be in unfamiliar running territory for a few weeks while taking care of my mom, they directed me to where I could run, and groups I could meet up with. Okay, I feel kinda guilty now for being a hater when these guys were so nice.

And no sooner had I walked in the door when I spotted this.

photo

A 13-race 5k series?! Prizes? Uh, where do I sign up?

So I got my nutrition, chatted with the super duper nice folks at Charlotte Running Company, called my little brother, and signed us BOTH up for a 5k.  So tonight will be sibling bonding time – our first family 5k!

I’m a fatty. It’s a runner thing.

| cheriarmour

Friday was like, National Donut Day or something.  Very well played, especially since Tuesday was National Runner’s Day, and everyone (rightfully so) was getting off the couch and embracing the great feeling-of-personal-hotness-increaser.  Friday rolls around, and every Krispy Kreme and Dunkin in America was offering a free donut with the purchase of a coffee.  If I was home in Raleigh, I would’ve gone to that homemade donut place, Rise, and stuffed my face, but I can make do.  I’m a versatile chick.

So anyhoo, I really tried to hold out all day.  “Cheri, you don’t need the sugar.  Your diet is awesome, no need to screw it up.  You’ve already run a couple of miles today, why taint that with that donut.”

The urge for that donut won.  So I put Krispy Kreme in my GPS, cause I’m still in Charlotte, and I don’t know where anything is anymore, I called to make sure they were still open, and the inner fatty in me forced me, forced me drive into a tropical storm to find this donut.  I approached where I thought the shop was, and my GPS let me know I’d arrived.  Buuut there was no Krispy anywhere to be found.  I drove in a circle.  I checked behind this sketchy motel.  And finally, I asked some guy who was chilling in front of the movie theatre next door where the heck the Donut Shop was.  ::Southern Accent::  “I don’t think it’s open yet!  It was over there.”  And then it hit me.  The Donut Shop had been demolished.  And my GPS had taken me to a now-non-existent shop.

I was about  25 minutes away from my parents’ home at this point.  In a storm.  So of course, I kind of remembered that there was a Dunkin close by.  And I settled for one of those chocolatey ones with the sprinkles on top.  As I swallowed it in 1.5 bites, chased by a swig of decaf, I sighed, “Yaiiis gurl!” Donut bettah werq!”  It was that good.

So I ran a few extra miles over the weekend to make up for my naughty behavior.  Hey, I’m a secret fatty.  It’s a runner thing.  Am I right?