Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father

If I was a good blogger I’d start teasing that I have a big announcement to make, then two days later I’d vaguely mention a new addition to our family, then something about a future runner in the house, then eventually I’d reveal that we got ourselves a puppy. But I’m not a good blogger and I’m not into drawn out announcements with a twist, haha, not pregnant, just a puppy, gotcha.

So yeah, PUPPY! Whippet puppy! Future championship runner (no pressure)! Continue reading

We never saw nothing but brass taps and oak

I’ve always known I’m pretty lucky to live where I live. Like most who live here, I appreciate this luck in a quiet way. Outside of the odd hockey game, nationalism is on the subtle side. I dig it that way. Who would’ve thought that the one thing other than hockey to stir nationalistic feelings would be four beers and a one mile race?

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We were both too tired to sleep

I am so stoked to be running two relays this year. Two famous Canadian races. Both are runs I’ve wanted to run as long as I’ve been a runner, and it just so happened that both worked out this year:

1. The Canadian Death Race
2. The Cabot Trail Relay

All this relay talk got me thinking about another relay I ran, almost a year ago. Actually, it’s the only other hours in a car style relay I’ve ever run. Last year the Ragnar series came to Ontario and organized a race from some small town on the shores of Lake Ontario to Niagara Falls. 12 super rad women, 2 sweet SUVs, lots of junk food, approximately 24 hours. It was awesome, it was stressful, it was crazy. I loved it.

12 crazy cool gals

12 crazy cool gals

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Trying to keep up with you and I don’t know if I can do it

So this happened. Continue reading

I’ll put one foot in front of the other one

I ran a marathon. My tenth, but first one in almost 2.5 years. I was a little nervous and almost pulled out at the last minute, but I’ve got a couple of big races coming up this summer and I knew I could use the test, kick in the butt, and endurance boost. So I somewhat reluctantly ran. Continue reading

Maybe you wonder where you are

Spring is just around the corner (allegedly, I have yet to see any evidence of winter’s end) and I have three “races” under my belt so far this year. So far this year, I’m secretly disappointed.

I keep reminding myself that I have loads of good and bad excuses: a concussion, an injury, a polar vortex, continued low mileage, training through races, laziness.

The excuses don’t help. I’m still running the same times / slower that I was running last year and the year before. Which kind of sucks.

First up,

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Everybody’s looking at my tight pants

My cool and in the know friends have been holding out on me. I am never in the know, I don’t even know the know to be in, so I rely on my friends to keep me knowing. I don’t want to publicly call them out for not sharing the know, so I won’t name names, but they sound a lot like @ali_zim, @Fueling4Fitness, and @PostTweetism*.

They recently let it slip that there is a song that may just be the greatest winter running song ever sung. This song beautifully captures the art of wrangling oneself into winter-grade tight tights that leave nothing to the imagination, with confidence and without the bashful need to cover up those tights tights with some loose fitting gym shorts.

This song isn’t new, but until last week no one (by “one”, I mean those souls who sound like @ali_zim, @Fueling4Fitness, and @PostTweetism) thought to send me the magnificent YouTube video.

To make up for this lost time, I watched it 37 times consecutively. It’s a bit hypnotic.

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