Category Archives: Humor

52 Weeks, 52 Runs. No. 3: The power of chowder

Posted on January 19, 2012 | 5 comments

I was miffed when Old Man Winter decided to drop by last weekend. I mean, can’t he schedule his visits for mid-week, when I haven’t committed to being outdoors for 45 minutes in tights and no jacket? With a cold.

Had the Run for Your Lunch 5.5K in Middleboro, MA, not been for such a fantastic cause (and had I not publicly declared my intention to run 52 races this year), I may have decided to sit this one out. But, despite protestations by my nose, I was happy to run in support of the new All Are Welcome Community Kitchen and Bakery, which is dedicated to providing access to nutritious meals to those who need them.

And it could have been worse. We could have been in New Hampshire.

Run for Your Lunch 5.5K

Running assassin!

Mask and you
shall receive

I have learned many lessons over the past month or so about dressing for winter runs. But until this particular day, I had not experienced the genius that is the running balaclava.

Hubby was kind enough to hand his over when he saw my formerly red nose turning blue at the start of the run, and I was happy to accept this multi-talented piece of fabric. Not only does it take your running ensemble to new levels of absurdity (see left), it also conceals any and all instances of tomato-face. And after the run, you can go rob a bank or two if you feel so inclined.

OK fine, it also functions as a hat and a neck warmer, although trying to manipulate it between these states as you are running a blistering 10:50 mile pace is somewhat challenging (I believe I looked as though I had hair-ears at one point. Not ear hairs, but ears made of hair).

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The vicious circle: Smuttynose Palooza Indoor Half-Marathon

Posted on January 17, 2012 | 8 comments

First, a disclaimer. I did not run the Smuttynose Palooza Indoor Half-Marathon. I would like to say it’s because I had the lurgy and was feeling … as though I had just run the Smuttynose Palooza Indoor Half-Marathon. But really it was because there is absolutely no way I could possibly manage that distance this early in my running career. (For now, it’s 5K all the way.)

Attentive readers will note that I had originally planned to do the outdoor Cabin Fever 5K, which was part of the aforementioned Palooza, but illness coupled with the early-morning insanity of that locationally challenged prospect – it was in Middle of Nowhere, N.H., otherwise known as Milford – kept me under the covers. Did I mention this past weekend was appropriate only for polar bears and snowbunnies?

The Milford Dome in New Hampshire

The capacious Hampshire Dome in Milford, N.H.

Hubby, however, did run the 13.1. And it was such a cool event that I couldn’t resist giving it a mention. Anything that’s called a Palooza and is sponsored by a beer company deserves at least that. (It was part of the fabulous Will Run for Beer series. And yes, while Hubby ran, I sampled. Order was restored.)

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52 Weeks, 52 Runs. No. 2: Or how I learned to stop worrying and love hills (kind of)

Posted on January 10, 2012 | 23 comments

A side effect of becoming a “runner” (I use the term loosely) is that I now apparently have the ability to stop traffic. It’s every girl’s dream, yes? This skill was on display during last weekend’s South Shore YMCA Frozen 5K (the second of my 52 Weeks, 52 Runs challenge) as I ran solo – hair blazing, face subtly aglow – through a forbidding intersection and coolly waved to a handful of Quincy police officers who were standing around looking bored. “Don’t mind me, guys. This kind of thing happens all the time.”

OK, it may not have gone down quite like that.

I did run through a forbidding intersection, but my hair was plastered to my neck and my face was its usual shade of bright crimson. (I could tell.) At this point, the Speedy McSpeedersons had finished or were close to it, and the rest of the runners – who had clearly become lost – were behind me. So I was briefly, and disconcertingly, solo. I did wave to the fine officers of the Quincy PD as they used their mad skills to hold back the throbbing traffic, but it probably looked less like a nonchalant thank you than a deranged “Holy crap!”

Quincy YMCA Frozen 5K

Running like the wind (but slowly enough that I can take my phone out of my shorts and snap a photo). So, really, running like the breeze.

Despite the pain suggested by my facial hue, things were pretty good. I had just come off an amazing downhill stretch that gave me a burst of energy, and I was feeling free and almost speedy. Even my lungs were playing along. Maybe I was born to run after all!

This sensation lasted for about a minute and a half …

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Take the Bunny and run

Posted on January 6, 2012 | 10 comments
Rocco Choco Banana Bunny Bar

Box o' bunnies.

We recently got a $50 Amazon gift card as half of an extremely generous Christmas present from my sister in Australia, and Hubby decreed that he would spend it. Go nuts, I said. (I got the iTunes half.)

He tossed around a few ideas, mostly of the unsexy we-need-it-but-it’s-nice-that-someone-else-is-paying-for-it variety. So you can imagine my intrigue when I happened upon a box on our porch that at first glance didn’t appear at all appropriately sized for a motion-sensor light (told you, unsexy). Further investigation revealed that this package in fact contained 48 Rocco Choco Banana Bunny Bars. That’s right, Hubby spent his $50 Christmas gift on 48 Rocco Choco Banana Bunny Bars.

Who knew Amazon even sold granola bars?

What does this have to do with running, you ask? Well, my Granola Bar Fiend (ie, Hubby) is always looking for his next good post/pre/mid-run hit, and he seems to have found it in the bunnies.

He was particularly swayed by the presence of chia. Those who read my post about the weird (but surprisingly tasty) Mamma Chia will recall that I was convinced Hubby is on the payroll of Big Chia, as he has so far brought both the seeds and copious amounts of the aforementioned beverage into my life. Well, this just confirms it! (For the uninitiated, chia is considered to be running fuel.)

Rocco Choco Banana Bunny Bar

Thanks to 18rabbits.com

But what does it taste like?

Normally, I’d rather munch on my own shoe than eat a granola bar. Mostly because when I eat a granola bar, it feels like I’m … munching on my own shoe. But, for the greater good, I decided to sample one-48th of Hubby’s Christmas gift while he was away on his weekend with the National Guard. Did I mention that he bought an entire box of granola bars?

The Bunny Bar is definitely yummier than your average shoe. Among the bars I have eaten (usually while trapped under something heavy, and out of options), it ranks extremely high. At least I can actually taste the banana. I’d probably eat one again, and I know Hubby is planning on taking these along as he attempts 12 half-marathons over the next 12 months, to complement my 52 Weeks, 52 Runs plan, so I’ll no doubt get the chance.

What I love about this product is that (a) it’s made in the US and (b) the company, 18 Rabbits, gives more than one percent of all bars it makes to kids in urban schools. Nice.

A non-granola bar postscript

A massive hello to everyone who came upon my blog thanks to its recent appearance on Freshly Pressed. I am truly honored to have you all as readers/followers and I hope you’ll enjoy my running journey insanity.

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52 Weeks, 52 Runs. No. 1: Snappy new year

Posted on January 3, 2012 | 94 comments

At the end of last year, I publicly declared my intention to do 52 organized runs in 52 weeks. In the harsh reality that was 7am on New Year’s Day, I wondered whether I hadn’t been chemically altered when I concocted this folly (too much Mamma Chia, perhaps?). Or potentially replaced by aliens …

But a quick 2012 audit of my corporeal self confirmed that everything was in order. So I decided to place the blame squarely on my new running alter ego, who, after appearing out of nowhere, is apparently now calling the shots – fueled by Spandex, Lululemon and many playings of Kylie. What else can explain my sudden desire to travel vast distances on freezing weekend mornings to run until I feel as though I am going to pass out? It can’t be the bananas. Or even the beer.

The happy crowd gathers for the start of 1st Run in Lowell.

It’s a good thing (or a sad thing, depending on how you look at it) that neither myself nor my alter ego overindulged on New Year’s Eve, or we would not have been at all equipped for the 5K 1st Run in Lowell, MA. Of course, I may have been secretly hoping that others had overindulged, in the interests of making me look faster. But these running types are serious!

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