So I got a whiff of my nalgene this morning before filling it up with water. Smelled RANK. This could maybe help to explain the mystery stomach destroying monster disease that left me in the fetal position for all of last week. I mean ‘sick’ is one thing, but HOLY MOTHER OF ALL THINGS HUMANS SHOULD NEVER EXPERIENCE, “viral gastroenteritis” has totally and completely owned me and my digestive system. I just whimpered and cried and begged it for mercy. Street cred: not established.
I puked at work last Tuesday and haven’t been the same sense. I have become very well acquainted with my bathroom and with severe dehydration from the sheer inability to keep fluids in my body. Guys…I know this is graphic, but seriously death was at my doorstep.
So I haven’t been running. No updates there. Back to square one of endurance. Murder me.
I made it back to the full time job with wobbly knees, and back to track practice this week. I love Valor. I love coaching. I love my little athletes, who wanted to kill me on Monday after I made them run 200s. I told them it could have been 400s and to suck it up. And then I hugged them and told them jokes while they panted for air. It feels good to be back in the world of athletics.
The Colorado weather lately hasn’t made it very easy to be outside though, what with the 80mph winds and frigid temperatures and constant threat of snow. I am about ready to suggest that Colorado take notes from the Texas springtime. If anyone could put me in touch with someone who has that authority, I would really appreciate it.
As a summary, things here are fabulous! It is sunny today. Bethany is back in full force and Behnke, Karla, Lee and I are going snowboarding this weekend. God is doing some big things in my life that involve huge massive potential changes for me in the next 6 months. I am beyond excited about it, and just giddy at how creative the God I serve really is. Can I get an AMEN?
Someone congratulate Beef on her new house in her new city in her newly married life. Give her a big hug for me, Dallas. She just made you THAT much better, and prettier, and funnier as a metroplex.
Someone please buy Megan’s puppies so she can stop torturing us with their cutesy puppy pictures. Baby golden retrievers make everyone think they need a puppy. Even people like me who want nothing to do with that kind of responsibility.
Someone please tell my littlest sister that her stripper long hair is to be treasured, and that layers are the answer – not a trim. LONG HAIR, DON’T CARE!
Someone tell Bethany congratulations on her new job as a NURSE! High five her for being baller status. And if you get sick, please ask me for directions to her newly acquired hospital of employment. She will make you feel better and I’ve heard she lets you drink chai tea lattes in the waiting room.
Someone say hi to Texas for me. I miss it and all the lovely people who live there.
Someone hit me with a jolt of caffeine, I’m off to hang out with High Schoolers!
Keep it classy people. See you on the flipside.
PS. ITS LEAP DAY!!!!!!!! I CANT POST ON THIS DAY AGAIN FOR 4 YEARS!!!! SOMEONE DO A DANCE, DO SOMETHING CRAZY....THIS KIND OF STUFF DOESNT HAPPEN EVERY DAY, OR HELL, EVEN EVERY YEAR!!!
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Monday, February 20, 2012
Country Miles
I have now been running with a miraculous streak of consistency for over a week now. Victory is obviously soon to be mine. However, I have with it received a few hard-won straightforward truths in my time thus far as a non-walking, psychopath that runs without being chased.
1. When I run, I pant in a very unattractive way. And I accumulate truckloads of saliva in my mouth…(has to be at least 3 time more than the average human being.) Which makes it necessary to spit, and then cough, and then moan in agony. This is when I usually have to reassure Bethany that I don’t need to stop and walk. So in conclusion, running makes me lie to Bethany.
2. The longer I run, the harder I breathe and cough, the worse I feel, the more unattractive I look, the more I think about jumping in front of a moving car.
3. The progression of my run is always the same. It starts with horrible self loathing at the beginning of a run, to thoughts like ‘okay I might make it’ (around 1 mile), and then 5 seconds later switches to unbearably impossible leg cramps, lungs about to explode, and me on the verge of tears. The run never even attempts to switch it up.
4. After my “long run” yesterday, I feel entitled to a sick day at work today. For both recovery and my sanity’s sake. It’s a miracle that I even got out of bed this morning.
5. The feeling I have before. EVERY. SINGLE. RUN. is the same feeling I had right about the time when my 7th grade P.E. coach uttered the words “country mile.” Let me explain. Coach Mac was a very large woman. She was 6’6 and had the largest mouth I have ever seen. A “country mile” was when we would slick our pony tails back on the top of our heads, leave the comfort of the gym, and run all around the middle school campus in the mud, taking laps around the baseball and football fields. (I swear we only did country miles right after it rained.) Without fail, someone would roll an ankle while trying to jump over the swamp ditch behind the football practice field. We would end up on the other end of the gym after making the loop, and like clockwork, Coach Mac would force us to do it again. Usually while she sat on the bleachers eating candy. Most days we made 3 loops. She would put sharpie marks on our arms to make sure we were getting all of our mileage in. It was like some kind of crazy kid boot camp and I hated every minute. Running still ignites the same rage in my spirit.
To this day, I cannot figure out why I didn’t instead run to Mark Coleman’s house who lived right past the fence behind the fields, mark myself with sharpie and ask his precious mom for a donut or other snack, only to jump back into in the pack for the finish line. What can I say, when I was 12, I wasn’t the con-artist that I am now.
6. I am never going to be the girl that looks cute on a run. Off label track pants, oversized t-shirts and 14 layers are a few of my staples. Also, nothing matches. Bethany usually looks like she just walked off the cover of NIKE magazine. So..that’s awesome.
7. Running is the most extreme example of torture. Every step is a form of insanity.
8. Being a long distance runner isn’t easy. I say this not from experience, but from countless hours of watching “The Biggest Loser’ and scrolling through the Fitness section of Pinterest.
9. I still don’t know what the HELL people are talking about when they use the term “Runner’s High.” Really looking forward to hopefully finding out. Really not looking forward to actually running to find out.
10. Nothing, and I repeat nothing, makes running more bearable than Justin Bieber and Kanakuk theme songs. Sorry not sorry.
Basically, in conclusion, you can go ahead and write my full name down and hold it under a black light. The word “WINNER” should appear.
Until next time, I’ll be kicking and screaming all the way to May 6th. I feel confident that by then I will either be really fit or dead. Let’s find out together, eh?
1. When I run, I pant in a very unattractive way. And I accumulate truckloads of saliva in my mouth…(has to be at least 3 time more than the average human being.) Which makes it necessary to spit, and then cough, and then moan in agony. This is when I usually have to reassure Bethany that I don’t need to stop and walk. So in conclusion, running makes me lie to Bethany.
2. The longer I run, the harder I breathe and cough, the worse I feel, the more unattractive I look, the more I think about jumping in front of a moving car.
3. The progression of my run is always the same. It starts with horrible self loathing at the beginning of a run, to thoughts like ‘okay I might make it’ (around 1 mile), and then 5 seconds later switches to unbearably impossible leg cramps, lungs about to explode, and me on the verge of tears. The run never even attempts to switch it up.
4. After my “long run” yesterday, I feel entitled to a sick day at work today. For both recovery and my sanity’s sake. It’s a miracle that I even got out of bed this morning.
5. The feeling I have before. EVERY. SINGLE. RUN. is the same feeling I had right about the time when my 7th grade P.E. coach uttered the words “country mile.” Let me explain. Coach Mac was a very large woman. She was 6’6 and had the largest mouth I have ever seen. A “country mile” was when we would slick our pony tails back on the top of our heads, leave the comfort of the gym, and run all around the middle school campus in the mud, taking laps around the baseball and football fields. (I swear we only did country miles right after it rained.) Without fail, someone would roll an ankle while trying to jump over the swamp ditch behind the football practice field. We would end up on the other end of the gym after making the loop, and like clockwork, Coach Mac would force us to do it again. Usually while she sat on the bleachers eating candy. Most days we made 3 loops. She would put sharpie marks on our arms to make sure we were getting all of our mileage in. It was like some kind of crazy kid boot camp and I hated every minute. Running still ignites the same rage in my spirit.
To this day, I cannot figure out why I didn’t instead run to Mark Coleman’s house who lived right past the fence behind the fields, mark myself with sharpie and ask his precious mom for a donut or other snack, only to jump back into in the pack for the finish line. What can I say, when I was 12, I wasn’t the con-artist that I am now.
6. I am never going to be the girl that looks cute on a run. Off label track pants, oversized t-shirts and 14 layers are a few of my staples. Also, nothing matches. Bethany usually looks like she just walked off the cover of NIKE magazine. So..that’s awesome.
7. Running is the most extreme example of torture. Every step is a form of insanity.
8. Being a long distance runner isn’t easy. I say this not from experience, but from countless hours of watching “The Biggest Loser’ and scrolling through the Fitness section of Pinterest.
9. I still don’t know what the HELL people are talking about when they use the term “Runner’s High.” Really looking forward to hopefully finding out. Really not looking forward to actually running to find out.
10. Nothing, and I repeat nothing, makes running more bearable than Justin Bieber and Kanakuk theme songs. Sorry not sorry.
Basically, in conclusion, you can go ahead and write my full name down and hold it under a black light. The word “WINNER” should appear.
Until next time, I’ll be kicking and screaming all the way to May 6th. I feel confident that by then I will either be really fit or dead. Let’s find out together, eh?
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Ally Runs
If you know me at all, there are very few things I value more in life than sleep.
Recently, upon acquiring a second job which I love and also keeping the full time job that I don’t hate, I have been waking up before the sun and not getting home until well after it has already set. Brutal right? Worth it, 100 percent, but ABSOLUTELY brutal.
Over the last 6-8 months, I have learned a lot about wellness as far as food goes. Living in Colorado has helped me make a paradigm shift on what it means to be healthy. Lately though, my goal/conviction is to be healthy/well in every aspect of life: spiritually, mentally, emotionally, and physically. To throw some ‘Christianese’ your way: to live above reproach in every facet of my life.
So upon setting this theme for 2012, I have made some mini goals that play into that big picture one.
One of which goals is to run a half marathon. I have made such a goal about 243 times in my life, and my sister would back me up on that fact. Want to know how many half marathons I have run? ZERO. I have never made it through Day 2 of training. Why? Because running is hard. This time is different, though. I have a running buddy. I have Becca Feagin writing my workout schedule. I have signed up for a 5k and a 10k and the actual half marathon in hopes of forcing myself to do it. (I am stingy as hell about spending money). I have looked at pictures on Pinterest to get motivated.
Over the next three months, I will be keeping you posted on my running schedule and new life as a ‘runner.’ The first of which installation starts today.
As a whole, I consider myself fairly athletic. Would have said REALLY athletic a few years back, but those maple scones will catch up with you. Running is a level above athletic. Ask me to play any sport, and I don’t have a problem telling you that I could pick it up within an hour. (TOOT TOOT - the sound of my own horn.) Ask me to run more than a mile and I would tell you to go punch yourself in your own face and then laugh at you.
Some facts:
I have a major baditude about the treadmill. I. HATE. IT.
I do not sweat pretty. I look at pictures of runners, and I do not resemble them at all. I more resemble monsters in horror movies.
Running early in the morning is the bane of my existence. After a run, I do not want to stay awake and kick Monday’s ass with my productivity afterwards. I want to nap. Till noon. Nobody says it better than Beef when she said that waking up early to run does the opposite of what people say. It actually makes you more tired than you would have been had you slept until 8AM. Logic wins here.
Running in the afternoon after a full day at two jobs is even worse.
I am 93% certain that by day 7 of this work out my yoga child’s pose will look much more like me in the fetal position sucking my thumb and asking for my sister.
I almost always think “aww hell no” within the first 10 strides of my run.
It’s freaking freezing outside. Cold enough that some days I miss Texas and the blazing heat. Cold enough that I cursed at the birds for chirping this morning. As if the weather was their fault.
But, AGAINST ALL ODDS, and because I want my body to be a wonderland, I am running. Even on the days when my knees scream profanities at me and I have to take ice baths in the Colorado winter.
So, if you see me anytime in the next 3 months, go ahead a give me a hug and/or high five. Say something motivational. Get me a subscription to Runners World. Make me a “Eat, Pray, Run” inspirational card. Or at least have pity on me when you shake your head and say “I told you so.”
Running like I stole something, I smell puke in my near future.
Recently, upon acquiring a second job which I love and also keeping the full time job that I don’t hate, I have been waking up before the sun and not getting home until well after it has already set. Brutal right? Worth it, 100 percent, but ABSOLUTELY brutal.
Over the last 6-8 months, I have learned a lot about wellness as far as food goes. Living in Colorado has helped me make a paradigm shift on what it means to be healthy. Lately though, my goal/conviction is to be healthy/well in every aspect of life: spiritually, mentally, emotionally, and physically. To throw some ‘Christianese’ your way: to live above reproach in every facet of my life.
So upon setting this theme for 2012, I have made some mini goals that play into that big picture one.
One of which goals is to run a half marathon. I have made such a goal about 243 times in my life, and my sister would back me up on that fact. Want to know how many half marathons I have run? ZERO. I have never made it through Day 2 of training. Why? Because running is hard. This time is different, though. I have a running buddy. I have Becca Feagin writing my workout schedule. I have signed up for a 5k and a 10k and the actual half marathon in hopes of forcing myself to do it. (I am stingy as hell about spending money). I have looked at pictures on Pinterest to get motivated.
Over the next three months, I will be keeping you posted on my running schedule and new life as a ‘runner.’ The first of which installation starts today.
As a whole, I consider myself fairly athletic. Would have said REALLY athletic a few years back, but those maple scones will catch up with you. Running is a level above athletic. Ask me to play any sport, and I don’t have a problem telling you that I could pick it up within an hour. (TOOT TOOT - the sound of my own horn.) Ask me to run more than a mile and I would tell you to go punch yourself in your own face and then laugh at you.
Some facts:
I have a major baditude about the treadmill. I. HATE. IT.
I do not sweat pretty. I look at pictures of runners, and I do not resemble them at all. I more resemble monsters in horror movies.
Running early in the morning is the bane of my existence. After a run, I do not want to stay awake and kick Monday’s ass with my productivity afterwards. I want to nap. Till noon. Nobody says it better than Beef when she said that waking up early to run does the opposite of what people say. It actually makes you more tired than you would have been had you slept until 8AM. Logic wins here.
Running in the afternoon after a full day at two jobs is even worse.
I am 93% certain that by day 7 of this work out my yoga child’s pose will look much more like me in the fetal position sucking my thumb and asking for my sister.
I almost always think “aww hell no” within the first 10 strides of my run.
It’s freaking freezing outside. Cold enough that some days I miss Texas and the blazing heat. Cold enough that I cursed at the birds for chirping this morning. As if the weather was their fault.
But, AGAINST ALL ODDS, and because I want my body to be a wonderland, I am running. Even on the days when my knees scream profanities at me and I have to take ice baths in the Colorado winter.
So, if you see me anytime in the next 3 months, go ahead a give me a hug and/or high five. Say something motivational. Get me a subscription to Runners World. Make me a “Eat, Pray, Run” inspirational card. Or at least have pity on me when you shake your head and say “I told you so.”
Running like I stole something, I smell puke in my near future.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Valentines and Birthdays
Happy Valentine’s Day!!!!!!! But much more importantly:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO LINDSAY KATHERINE BEHNKE!!!! (SHOUT OUT) Exclamation point! Cymbols! Applause! Our own personal little package sized Valentine turns TWENTY SIX today! A bit of background on Behnks includes but is not limited to the following facts:
She is cute and popular!
She is a real life sanguine!
She is from Jersey Shore! AND She is best friends with Snookie (speculation)!
She is a tea-aholic!
She cooks!
She cleans!
She bakes!
She cannot curl her hair! But she patented the baby powder & blow dryer trick!
She speaks Mandarin Chinese!
She shops at H-Mart and loves seaweed as a snack!
She loves snoozin’ and treats! Treats and snoozin’!
She’s a total babe!
She is quick witted!
She loves (Read: HATES) cats!
She skis!
She bikes!
She shoots hoops!
She loves Jesus!
To summarize: Lindsay is cooler than me. AND its her birthday. Not mine. I really like being her friend for times when I fall down the stairs and she tells me to suck it up and that “stairs are hard.” I usually do what she says with no questions asked. My mom, if she knew Lindsay, would probably ask me if I would jump off of a cliff if Lindsay did.
And I would look her squarely in the eye and say, “Yes, Mom. I would.”
Because guess what? If Behnke jumped off a cliff it would be because she had always wanted to travel to that exotic cliff in New Zealand or something. And she would have come equipped with a parachute or a bungee rope. And it would be an adventure and it would be awesome.
So let’s all give LindZ a virtual high five for making it to her 26th year without being severely disfigured due to being malled by tigers or falling down the stairs (AHEM). She made it to this glorious year, without any incurable diseases and without terrets. And that, my friends, is what you call a victory. Take a moment to do a silent fist pump in celebration of her life, and recent baptism (welcome to heaven). If you are a boy, do a chest bump in her honor. If you are a girl, squeal a little, shed a tear, and designate a facebook status or tweet to her right this minute.
LINDSAY: We all really like you a lot. And we all are really happy that you live with us in Denver and that you are 26. Happy Birthday once again, ‘ole tape pants. You are oh so very much loved, you cute and popular little skank. Let’s eat some rice krispie treats and pudding.
And to all the Valentines: All is fair in love and thumbwars.
And to all the singles: Eat some chocolate today….if you aren’t lactose intolerant. There's always next year. Unless of course the Mayans were right.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO LINDSAY KATHERINE BEHNKE!!!! (SHOUT OUT) Exclamation point! Cymbols! Applause! Our own personal little package sized Valentine turns TWENTY SIX today! A bit of background on Behnks includes but is not limited to the following facts:
She is cute and popular!
She is a real life sanguine!
She is from Jersey Shore! AND She is best friends with Snookie (speculation)!
She is a tea-aholic!
She cooks!
She cleans!
She bakes!
She cannot curl her hair! But she patented the baby powder & blow dryer trick!
She speaks Mandarin Chinese!
She shops at H-Mart and loves seaweed as a snack!
She loves snoozin’ and treats! Treats and snoozin’!
She’s a total babe!
She is quick witted!
She loves (Read: HATES) cats!
She skis!
She bikes!
She shoots hoops!
She loves Jesus!
To summarize: Lindsay is cooler than me. AND its her birthday. Not mine. I really like being her friend for times when I fall down the stairs and she tells me to suck it up and that “stairs are hard.” I usually do what she says with no questions asked. My mom, if she knew Lindsay, would probably ask me if I would jump off of a cliff if Lindsay did.
And I would look her squarely in the eye and say, “Yes, Mom. I would.”
Because guess what? If Behnke jumped off a cliff it would be because she had always wanted to travel to that exotic cliff in New Zealand or something. And she would have come equipped with a parachute or a bungee rope. And it would be an adventure and it would be awesome.
So let’s all give LindZ a virtual high five for making it to her 26th year without being severely disfigured due to being malled by tigers or falling down the stairs (AHEM). She made it to this glorious year, without any incurable diseases and without terrets. And that, my friends, is what you call a victory. Take a moment to do a silent fist pump in celebration of her life, and recent baptism (welcome to heaven). If you are a boy, do a chest bump in her honor. If you are a girl, squeal a little, shed a tear, and designate a facebook status or tweet to her right this minute.
LINDSAY: We all really like you a lot. And we all are really happy that you live with us in Denver and that you are 26. Happy Birthday once again, ‘ole tape pants. You are oh so very much loved, you cute and popular little skank. Let’s eat some rice krispie treats and pudding.
And to all the Valentines: All is fair in love and thumbwars.
And to all the singles: Eat some chocolate today….if you aren’t lactose intolerant. There's always next year. Unless of course the Mayans were right.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Snow Day
Yesterday morning I woke up to 9 inches of beautifully fluffy snow outside my window. First came disgust at the thought having to drive in that cold mess, so I called the job to make sure I wasn’t the only one making the trek to the office. When I reached the voicemail message telling me that our office was closed, I cannot explain to you my excitement and relief. I could have cried. I snuggled down in my covers and drifted back to sleep with a sigh of thankfulness.
The morning consisted of a lazy homemade breakfast and then a warm cup of tea with my roomies. We did some crafting and planned to sit on the porch watching the snowflakes continue to fall. It was a glorious beginning of my first adult snow day. And in case you were wondering, it feels just the same as it did back when schools were closed due to weather. The purest form of joy.
Later in the day, we went for a walk in the 2 feet of snow and played and wrestled and ran. And explored. The snow was perfectly soft and the park was unspeakably gorgeous, covered in a layer of white and oh so very quiet. Serenity. The rest of the night consisted of making a fire and reading scripture out loud while warming our toes, making dinner (thanks Lee) and eating around the table. We watched maybe the worst movie ever (which is a pretty big declaration since Ryan Gosling was the main character), but capped the night off playing Phase 10 and reading the Hunger Games. Spending the workday at home with lovely friends is my favorite kind of Friday. And now it’s Saturday. So we get to do the whole thing all over again. Jesus, be glorified!
Snow days are the newest addition to my list of things that make me oh so terribly happy. Here is some photo documentation of our Friday in the blizzard.
The morning consisted of a lazy homemade breakfast and then a warm cup of tea with my roomies. We did some crafting and planned to sit on the porch watching the snowflakes continue to fall. It was a glorious beginning of my first adult snow day. And in case you were wondering, it feels just the same as it did back when schools were closed due to weather. The purest form of joy.
Later in the day, we went for a walk in the 2 feet of snow and played and wrestled and ran. And explored. The snow was perfectly soft and the park was unspeakably gorgeous, covered in a layer of white and oh so very quiet. Serenity. The rest of the night consisted of making a fire and reading scripture out loud while warming our toes, making dinner (thanks Lee) and eating around the table. We watched maybe the worst movie ever (which is a pretty big declaration since Ryan Gosling was the main character), but capped the night off playing Phase 10 and reading the Hunger Games. Spending the workday at home with lovely friends is my favorite kind of Friday. And now it’s Saturday. So we get to do the whole thing all over again. Jesus, be glorified!
Snow days are the newest addition to my list of things that make me oh so terribly happy. Here is some photo documentation of our Friday in the blizzard.
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