Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Run, run as fast as you can . . .

I can't get pictures on my blog or spell checker. Yikes! Is anyone else having this trouble?

I have a new workout philosophy. Speed. Not the drug. I am trying to do everything faster. For some reason, I have been under the dillusion that slower is better. Slower reps builds more muscle, slower jogs burn more fat, etc. This new discovery has come partly because of a new book, and partly because I can only run for about 20-30 minutes before my knee doesn't work. I figure I better run as fast as I can if I am going to get anything done.

It has been great. My workouts are exciting and challenging. Hopefully I'll be better prepared for races.

Do you have days that you are just super happy. You smile for no particular reason? It may have something to do with the combination of Ibuprofen and Excedrin I took or it may be the great fall weather and Halloween fun in the air, or I think it is just knowing how blessed I am.

Thursday, October 15, 2009


With parenting comes a lot of gross stuff. You really need a strong stomach. The diapers are enough alone, but then you have spit up, drool, throw up, diarrhea, toilets sprayed by a 3 year old boy with the worst aim, the weird foreign objects in diapers. (We have a good one for that. Abigail was always putting things in her mouth, and we would find some crazy stuff in her poopy diapers. These are things that have passed through her system. The winners were a polly pocket boot, and drum roll please . . . a used band-aid.) Gross! I know.

Last night I got a new chart topper for my most disgusting parenting moment. Gabe is sick with the flu. We were having a late dinner because Emma had ballet. I am unloading groceries, making tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches one a time, and not doing it fast enough. I guess you could say I was a little frazzled.

Gabe started coughing and threw up some of his dinner on to his plate. (This is actually pretty common for us. Gabe throws up his food 2-3 times a week. He's got a really strong gag reflex, and a psychological fear of anything that is not a waffle with cinnamon and sugar on it entering his mouth.) So a little throw up on the plate is no biggie. I got a little frustrated because he had asked for red soup all day and I had to go to the store to get him some, and now he just throws it and half of his sandwich up. I say, “ sigh, Gabe you love red soup and it will make you feel better and it’s really good.” Then I take a nice bite of the remaining half of his sandwich. Which is wet. I don’t even think about it until I swallow. Then I looked at his plate and realized his sandwich has been sitting in his pool of throw up.

I just stood there trying to figure out something that would make it better. I already swallowed it. I couldn’t do anything. Normal throw up would have been bad enough, but this was throw up that was full of flu germs.

Maybe developing this stong stomach is preparing us for something. If so, I don’t want to know what it is.