Category Archives: Life

Widget

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“I can’t believe this is happening to us again.”

This was a phrase that Shawn and I have repeated many times since that awful morning on July 8th. That was the morning we learned that our kitten, Widget, was sick. In case you hadn’t read my previous post, we had just put down our beloved cat Beans just five days before.

We repeated it again on July 17th, when we had to bring Widget into the vet to say our final goodbyes, exactly two weeks to the day after we said our final goodbyes to Beans.

“Are you familiar with how the procedure works?” the vet tech asked us as we sat in the “Comfort Room” in the vet’s office, while Shawn held our ailing kitten in his arms. Yes, unfortunately we were all too familiar with the procedure. And we couldn’t believe this was happening to us again.

Days after Beans passed, Widget spent most of his time sitting on the couch and looking out the window. He missed his big brother, we thought. Then he started eating less of his food. He’s growing up and starting to graze more like a normal cat, we thought. Then on the morning of July 8th he refused to eat at all and began to throw up white foam. My paranoia brought him right into the vet’s office where it was found he had a fever and a very low red blood cell count. A week of hell followed as we went from treating a possible infection or possible autoimmune disorder, squirting liquid medicine in our poor kitten’s mouth morning and night. We had been granted a few days free of forcing a cat to tolerate medicine, now we were back in the game.

After about nine days we knew Widget was getting worse. He no longer ate willingly and we were force feeding him baby food through a dropper. He could barely walk anymore and was nothing but skin and bone. On Monday morning, July 17th, Shawn brought him into the vet for another check up. The doctor agreed it was time to say goodbye. I rushed home from work to join my husband’s side in the “Comfort Room”, and we ended the suffering of our poor, barely 4-month-old kitten.

When you have no definite answers, your mind will run wild with theories. Was there something in our house poisoning our cats? I googled everything from radon poisoning to lead poisoning to sulphur poisoning and none of the symptoms matched. Could I have brought home some exotic toxin from Hawaii? Did he get bit by some insect? Should we have got a second opinion? Did Widget die needlessly? I ended up reaching out to the shelter that we had adopted Widget from, asking if they knew of any mysterious illnesses his siblings may have been diagnosed with. At the time I called, the shelter had heard nothing. Then, this past Friday, they called me back with some devastating, yet oddly comforting news.

Widget’s sibling had suddenly died. The diagnosis was FIP- Feline Infectious Peritonitis. FIP is caused by a common virus that over 80% of cats get exposed to. However, in rare cases, the virus mutates and causes FIP. FIP is untreatable, incurable, and fatal. Most cats die within weeks if not days. Common symptoms are the refusal to eat, anemia, and a fever that will not go away with antibiotics, all of which our Widget had.

I say this awful news was comforting because at least now I have an answer. At least now I know that we were fighting a losing battle and we did everything we possibly could.

Widget lived a happy and spoiled little kitten life. He got to make two trips up to Lake Charlevoix. He would calmly sit on our laps as we sat next to bonfires or sat outside on the deck. He had a huge cat tree all to himself and would snuggle between Shawn and myself to sleep at night. We used to joke that we never wanted to see him get big, never knowing the true weight of our words.

Beans was my first cat, but Widget was my first kitten. He was sweet and cute and calm and loving and jumped on my lap anytime I sat on the couch. He was my “snuggle bunny” and the house just feels so damned empty without him and Beans.

I’m getting by, but the grief has ways of showing up unexpectedly. I was in the grocery store recently and a song came on that I had once danced around the living room to while holding Widget in my arms. Of course I started bawling while everyone else in the toilet paper section walked on oblivious to my pain.

I know we will one day welcome a special new kitty/kitties into our home, and some of that emptiness will dissipate. I just still can’t believe this happened to us, again.

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Beans

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This is the most difficult thing I have ever had to write, but I feel like if I don’t, I might have a breakdown. Not to say that I’m functioning too well right now; I’m in the stage of grief where the shock has worn off and reality has sunk its sharp claws directly into my heart: my best friend, my faithful companion, my baby boy, my kitty Beans, is dead.

Beans’ health, while showing signs of slight decline since January, took a steep nosedive as soon as I got home from my work trip to Hawaii in late May. After being hospitalized and treated for a UTI and pancreatitis, we thought he might recover with medication. However, there was the matter of him having swollen lymph nodes through his entire illness. Best case scenario: the swelling was due to throwing up frequently. Worst case (and more likely) scenario: Beans had cancer. The only way to confirm the cancer was through surgery, and there was no way I was putting him through further pain and suffering than necessary. Besides, at just eight pounds, the surgery alone could’ve killed him. After a month of him not responding to his medication, continuing to lose weight and not eat, I made the painfully difficult decision that humanely euthanizing my poor baby was better than allowing him to starve to death. I decided that if nature didn’t have its way by July 3rd, I’d take Beans in.

How do you prepare for the day you know your pet is going to die, at your hands no less? Well, first you run with a friend. Then, you allow your dying pet to do whatever the hell he wants all day; in Beans’ case, I let him outside and allowed him to feel the grass. His health was so bad at this point he couldn’t even jump, let alone run, so a leash wasn’t necessary. I just followed closely behind him as he slowly made his way around the yard, down the driveway, and inspecting the neighbor’s bushes. I constantly picked him up and smothered him with kisses. I gave him chest rubs. I held him close to my chest in the car ride to the vet’s office and his limp body didn’t fight back.

“You did everything right by Beans”, the vet told me before the moment. You know the moment I’m talking about. I won’t go into details because that time in that room with Beans as he passed is sacred to me. I will admit I whaled like a wounded animal. I was a wounded animal.

I didn’t request his ashes because I didn’t want to think of Beans as being trapped in a box forever. Was that the right thing to do? I have been questioning every moment and every decision I made since Beans got sick. What could I have done differently? Was I attentive enough? Was it all my fault because we got a new kitten? Should I have taken him in sooner? Should I have let him hang on longer, maybe a miracle could’ve saved him? These are questions I’ll wrestle with forever I’m sure. Along with these demons, I did come home with Beans’ paw print pressed in clay that we baked when we got home. I still marvel at how tiny that paw print looks compared to the large personality Beans had.

Everyone loved Beans. Every doctor and vet tech that ever treated him told me how handsome and friendly he was. Every friend who stopped by our home was greeted by Beans; he was not the type of cat to hide upstairs. He wanted to be involved in everything. I’ll never forget waiting in line to pick up Beans from the Pets Hotel where he was being boarded when we went on a cruise in February. I overheard one of the employees telling a couple who was picking up their dog, “You know, I just started here, and I never thought I liked cats. But there is this one cat we have with us named Beans, and he is just the coolest cat ever.” He was.

Ten years ago, I wanted a pet. I was living in a tiny apartment and though I preferred dogs, a cat would have to do. Word got around my office that I was reluctantly thinking of bringing a cat into my home. My office manager at the time just so happened to be taking care of a stray in her neighborhood. “He’s a good kitty and could use a good home” she told me. He was delivered to me on December 15th, 2007 with a red bow on his carrier. The night before I had bought every item in the cat isle at Target. We were suspicious of each other that first night. Beans mostly hid in the cat tent I had purchased (I went a bit overboard at Target), while I wondered if he would like me, and vice versa. The next morning I woke up to Beans next to me in bed. He pawed at my face and gave me his first meow. In that moment, I became a crazy in love obsessed kitty momma.

Beans was by my side through every move to every new home; the poor guy lived in five different residences in his nearly ten years with me. He stuck by me through my divorce and instantly accepted his new daddy Shawn. “Accept” is a weak word, Beans was straight up in love with Shawn. As cute as it was, I had to remind him frequently, “you’re sitting on his lap? Who feeds you and cleans your litter box after all?!” Beans had Black Kitty Healing Powers, I swear to God. Not only could he cure any emotional crisis by jumping on my lap, but he once healed me when I had the flu. Seriously, stay with me here- I was up all night hacking up a lung. Beans eventually jumped onto my chest and began what I can only describe as “turbo-purring”. Ever time I coughed, he purred stronger. The vibrations from his body helped calm me enough that within a few minutes, I finally drifted asleep. Tylenol Cold and Flu had nothing on Black Kitty Healing Powers.

I write this two days after Beans’ passing. I write this because it’s a more constructive way to deal with my grief than pacing around the house sobbing, touching every spot Beans ever lay down on thinking I can feel his warmth. I write this because I need to get it all out, not just as a catharsis, but because I want the world to know what a special cat Beans was. I want it recorded into history (or just WordPress) that Beans was the greatest cat who ever lived and he took a piece of my heart with him to Kitty Heaven.

Mommy loves you Beans. Thanks for being mine.

The Lost Year

As my tens of loyal readers surely noticed, I didn’t publish a single post to The Rum Runner in 2016. I previously discussed that this was due to having a travel-intensive job that drained most of my excess energy. In fact, I thought I would just abandon my silly little blog all together. When I had the urge to write a few weeks ago I had fun looking back on all my previous posts and reliving some fun (and some painful) memories. It’s truly hard to believe that I’ve been recording my musings on running for five years now!

That being said, I realized recently that I sold myself short regarding my running accomplishments last year. In addition to many miles logged on Hampton Inn treadmills, I completed three marathons in three new states:

  1. The Walt Disney World Marathon (as part of the Goofy Challenge), Florida
  2. The Wisconsin Marathon, appropriately in Wisconsin
  3. The Tucson Marathon, Arizona
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MB and me in AZ

I won’t go into mega details since I’m terrible at writing exciting recaps. In fact, I’m pretty terrible at writing anything exciting. But you know who DOES write awesome recaps? My friend MB over at Run All The States! There you can read about our shared adventures, and her solo ones, which I’m sure she’ll be doing more of because my husband is all “smart” with money and has put his foot down on doing any out-of-state marathons for a while because we bought a house and we’re adults and he’s a BIG MEANIE (just kidding of course, but I’m itching for an adventure).

I didn’t set any PRs with these marathons, unless number of poop stops during a marathon counts as a special PR. Darn Disney and their early-ass wake up calls really messed with my system the entire weekend. Wisconsin offered a great course the first half of the marathon, then saw us running on shoulders of main roads the second half. Also featured on the second half was a brick wall of wind pushing against me. Tucson had a pretty boring course as well with even more miles run on shoulders of main roads, only these weren’t closed to traffic! Another thing all three of these runs had in common was a complete lack of beer. After running the Route 66 Marathon in 2015 I’ve just come to expect booze every few miles to help kill the pain.

Other running highlights from last year:

  • Visiting one of my best friends in Salt Lake City, Tracy, and running the SLC Half Marathon. It’s such a beautiful course and I’d love to return to run the full again.
  • Subjecting myself to more trails- I ran three trail half marathons and one four-hour timed run on a loop in Bloomer Park. I have learned that trails are hard and make me hungry. Boy I can’t wait to run 50 miles of trails soon (that was typed in sarcasm font).
  • Running the Brooksie Way and actually pushing myself to a challenging pace on such a beautiful fall day in Michigan. I love this half marathon so much.
  • Completing my very first Detroit Turkey Trot! It was also my first 10K in a very long time that I finished in an hour. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

So despite the missed races and long runs and time with friends and family due to my job, I guess upon reflection that 2016 wasn’t the complete disaster I remember it to be. Also, those hotel points and SkyMiles will prove very handy when I’m allowed to travel again. Honestly, what I am looking forward to most this year is more miles and fun with my running friends.

 

 

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I’m Alive!! And Stupid

Hey there kids! I can’t believe it’s been over a year since I updated this vibrant and widely-read blog. Actually, I can believe it- I pretty much decided to abandon it after taking on a very travel-intensive job last year. Well, I left that job and after leaving a pretty crummy year behind, I’m actually optimistic for the year ahead. When I’m happy, I feel like writing about it.

I guess last year wasn’t that crummy. I did after all marry the love of my life. However, as previously mentioned, I had to plan our wedding through many business trips that took me away from home, friends, and running. I spent most of my year as a resident of Hilton hotels all over Michigan, Wisconsin, Connecticut, and Texas. I also lost my grandma, that was pretty shitty! Oh and a reality television star was elected president. As John Oliver said, f*ck 2016.

Let’s not dwell on the negative and turn to the positive instead. I recently took on a new job where I will be in ONE PLACE ALL THE TIME. I love my new team and the work I will be accomplishing with them. Soon Shawn and I will be closing on a new home in New Hudson, MI! We will be living within running distance of so many parks (Kensington and Island Lake!) and trails (Huron Valley Trail!), as well as living within running distance of a few breweries. I tell ya, life doesn’t get much better than that.

Thank goodness I will soon be living in a quiet and runner-friendly neighborhood, because I certainly have some running to do. At the end of last year I registered for the Ann Arbor Marathon to keep myself motivated throughout the winter. I decided to tag alone with some friends who were training for a 50 miler on their long runs in order to train. Well of course I soon got talked into REGISTERING for the 50 miler, The Indiana Trail run in Albion, IN. Oh and I’ll be doing the Kal Haven Trail run (around 34 miles) on April 8th to train for it. Oh haha and did I mention I had already signed up for another 50 miler, North Country, at the end of August?!

So yeah, I’m stupid, but I’m also excited. After trying unsuccessfully to train for speed for two years now I decided if I can’t run fast, I’ll run long. I’m looking forward to posting more about my Ultra adventures as well as all of the awesome places to run in my new city. Also, I need to break out my old bathing suits since I’ll be really close to Island Lake and really have no excuse not to do a T Rex Triathlon this summer (because I’ll have so much time, right?!).

In addition to my upcoming running adventures, I’m also looking forward to embracing a healthier lifestyle. Actually I’m not eating healthier at all, but I’m looking to drastically cut back on drinking. After a booze-soaked cruise last week, I’m determined to drink as little as possible in the coming month. This may not sound like a daunting task to most people, but I am the Rum Runner after all. Getting used to sparkling water instead of red wine with dinner and giving up shower beers after a long run will be tough. However, I know my life and running goals will be easier to achieve without them.

Thanks for reading! Happy 2017 and happy running!

 

 

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2014 Year in Review: Numbers and Math and a Preview of 2015

My father is a numbers guy and that has always bugged me. Whenever I mention a social gathering/race/whatever I’ve just attended, his first question is always “How many people were there?” When I point out that sorry, I wasn’t aware I was supposed to be counting, he starts throwing out estimates. “Were there about 20? More than 30?” It gets on my nerves for the simple fact that my brain isn’t wired that way. Numbers are my enemy. I’m a known generous tipper because of my inability to do simple math in my head. I would suck on the Price is Right because fuck if I know what a broom is supposed to cost. The only time I obsess about numbers, however, is in relation to my training. Here is what my 2014 looked like in numbers. My dad would be proud.

In 2014 I completed 2,198 miles:

I ran 1,794 miles

I biked 375 mile

I swam 28 miles

I ran 2 marathons with a PR of 4:29:10 (which included at least 5 potty breaks)

I ran these marathons in 2 new states (scratch Utah and Indiana off the long list!)

I ran 6 half marathons with a PR of 1:50:10

I ran 3 of those halfs as a pace group leader

I ran 1 half marathon through 2 countries (I heart you Detroit International Half Marathon)

I finished 1 half marathon holding the hand of the man I love

I ran 6 5Ks with a PR of 23:47

I entered 3 sprint triathlons and successfully completed 1 (damned open water anxiety)

I missed out on 3 races I registered for due to being hit by 1 car

I peed in the woods 2 times

I pooped my pants 1 time

And on that final (brown) note, I will end the data. I’m very proud of my accomplishments in 2014, even though it ended on a frustrating note with inexplicably slower speeds, including a 10K I ran in 1:01. Ouch. I’ve been going out for shorter runs lately and trying to really push myself and I’m happy to say there is still some speed hidden inside of me, I just have to work for it.

Though I’m already registered for two marathons in 2015, including the Skyline Chili 4-Way at the Flying Pig in Cincinnati (that’s a 5K, 10K, and full marathon all in one weekend), my main goal is to run less in the coming year. I feel like a lot of my training runs lately have been for the wrong reasons, whether to prove that I’m tough or to be like the cool kids who run 50+ miles a week. Running less will also give me time to swim more, which will help me achieve my main goal of 2015: swim an open water 5K. Right now the idea sounds ridiculous and I’ve been afraid of telling people for fear of being laughed out of the room. Really? The same girl who couldn’t finish 750 meters in a sprint triathlon is going to finish 5,000?! What can I say, I love an impossible challenge (unless it involves math). I love how strong swimming makes me feel and though I have a long way to go, I’m willing to put in the effort. I see many more group swims with the FAST Masters Swimmers in the coming months.

The past year was thrilling and difficult and exciting and terrifying and shitty and wonderful and I can’t wait for the adventures and life experiences the new year brings.

 

 

 

 

 

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Fighting the Fat Kid

One of the more embarrassing moments of my childhood was from my fourth grade gym class. It was the mile run day for the President’s Challenge, that horrible week during the year when your fitness was measured and I of course came up short in everything. As I recall I was already 110 pounds at age 10 and my idea of fitness was running to the cupboard to sneak a few Little Debbie Oatmeal Creme Pies before dinner. The one area of the President’s Challenge where I excelled was the sit-and-reach, which measured flexibility. I was always number one in my class, the only advantage of being blessed with short legs and a long torso. Enough of what I was good at, now on to the cringe-inducing mile run…

The mile run was eight laps around a spray-painted loop in a field behind our school. Granted, it’s not like we had Nike technical apparel to change in to. I was most likely running in some uncomfortable skirt and sweater that my mother picked out for me. Anyway, fat kids in skirts don’t run fast. In fact, I came in dead last out of my entire class. I was so slow that everyone was done while I was finishing my final lap. Imagine being a fat kid with a perm (thanks, mom!) and having all your classmates stare at you as you huff-and-puff. To add insult to injury, my shoe fell off as I rounded the final corner. To this day I can still see the 25+ faces of annoyed school children watching me hop on one foot to my tear-filled finish.

Fast forward 21 years to last Saturday. I was attempting my second sprint triathlon in Lexington, Michigan. I hadn’t done any real training and the last time I swam was at my last sprint tri in September of last year. For some reason the waters of Lake Huron terrified me and I immediatley panicked when the gun went off. I couldn’t control my breathing, ended up swallowing a bunch of water, and threw up on myself. Lovely. Luckily the rescue kayaks had swimming noodles for idiots like myself. I took one after a few feet of flopping around erraticaly. While I wasn’t dead last to get out of the water, I was surely the only person under the age of 50 with a security blanket noodle. My ego was decimated. As I ran back to the transition area, I couldn’t help but recall my earlier embarrassing moment in athletic acheivement.

Every day of my life is a struggle against Fat Kid Laura. In my late teens to mid twenties I fought back in unhealthy ways by starving myself and smoking and eventually developing bulimia. At the age of 27 I started training for my first half marathon and finally found out that I was a decent runner after all. I fought against Fat Kid Laura by training and enjoying races, and every once in a while winning my age group. Running has given me more self-esteem than any other aspect of my life. However, there are moments like the Lexington disaster when Fat Kid Laura comes back in full force to destroy my confidence.

It’s easy for me to not feel good enough. I see girls with nice boobs and I feel inadequate. I see girls with good careers and feel I have nothing to offer. I struggle with the math while studying for my Series 7 and I feel stupid. These feelings can utterly consume me if I don’t fight back. So I failed my swim portion miserably in Lexington. I’m not throwing in the towel and letting Fat Kid Laura win this round. I am determined to let Kick Ass Adult Laura reign victorious. On Monday I participated in a tri training group and I even signed up for private swim lessons to improve my technique and efficiency. A bit extreme maybe, but Fat Kid Laura is a tough bitch to beat.

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Show me your Playlist!

One of the many things I love about running is the chance to be out in nature on my own with nothing keeping me company but my favorite tunes. I’m a huge music nerd and would trade in watching TV for listening to my iPod any day. While I’m an alternative/industrial/metal girl at heart, music I listen to on my run is a different story. I learned during my first marathon that it’s not particularly pleasant to have Trent Reznor scream at you when you’re wilting in the humidity and contemplating jumping into the Detroit River to end it all. Since then, my running playlists have been full of fun, upbeat, and danceable tunes that I’d most likely be embarrassed to have play in my car with company. Without further adieu, I present to you my running Playlist, appropriately titled on my iPod as RUNNING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

1) Running (Adam Lambert)

2) The Walker (Fitz and the Tantrums)

3) Applause (Lady Gaga)

4) Bangarang (Skrillex)

5) The Beautiful People (Marilyn Manson)

6) Brown Sugar (The Rolling Stones)

7) Burn it Down (Linkin Park)

8) Came Back Haunted (Nine Inch Nails)

9) Carried Away (Passion Pit)

10) Closer (Tegan and Sara)

11) Don’t Stop (Color on the Walls) (Foster the People)

12) So Whatcha Want (Beastie Boys)

13) Sure Shot (Beastie Boys)

14) I Got Mine (The Black Keys)

15) Safe and Sound (Capital Cities)

16) Groove is in the Heart (Deee-Lite)

17) Tongue Tied (Grouplove)

18) What’s on your Mind (Pure Energy) (Information Society)

19) Heavy Bells (J. Roddy Walston & The Business)

20) Rock and Roll (Led Zeppelin)

21) The Phoenix (Fall Out Boy)

22) My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Fall Out Boy)

23) My Body (Young the Giant)

24) Coming of Age (Foster the People)

25) Best Friend (Foster the People)

26) Dancing on my Own (Robyn)

27) Roar (Katy Perry)

28) Sexy Bitch (David Guetta feat. Akon)

29) Starships (Nicki Minaj)

30) Stronger (Kelly Clarkston)

31) Birthday (Katy Perry)

32) Fire Woman (The Cult)

33) She Sells Sanctuary (The Cult)

So there you have it. I used to have a much longer list of over 60 songs, but damn you Apple for putting the “edit” and “delete playlist” buttons SO EFFING CLOSE TOGETHER. You can see mixes of pop, classic rock, metal, modern alternative, and 80s New Wave. My two favorites are Groove is in the Heart and Fire Woman; for some reason these particular songs light a fire under my ass and make pain and fatigue disappear.

So tell me readers reader! What’s on your playlist? What songs get your legs and soul moving? What’s the most embarrassing song on your list (mine is Skrillex, no doubt)? Or are you one of those complete weirdos who listen to nothing on a run?

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Making New Goals and Fighting Old Demons

A peculiar and unexpected thing happened to me as I ran the Fifth Third Riverbank 25K in Grand Rapids on May 10th. No, I didn’t shit my pants again. That’s almost expected these days. What happened was I cried for the first time during a race. These weren’t tears of pain, but rather boredom. I was literally bored to tears. After mile 8 something broke down inside of me and I began to hate every minute of that run. Physically, I was fine! I was averaging sub-nine minute miles up to that point. My mind, however, was done. It was my third long-distance event in three weeks and I was finally experiencing what all the wise people around me told me I would: Burnout.

Obviously I had some plans to adjust. Now that my house was sold and I could finally close the chapter in my life titled “Divorce Drama”,  I no longer had the need to run away. The first decision I made was to drop down to the Half Marathon in Charlevoix. I felt like a loser, but my running soul needed a break from training plans and long runs. I needed to ENJOY running again. I also decided to stick to my planned 50K in September. Trail running will be fairly new to me and I’m looking forward to the challenge (and not having to worry about speed). I can’t wait for long, leisurely, runs with friends out on the trails all summer long, with my nifty new pink Camelback that some really awesome guy bought me for my birthday.

So far I’m two weeks in to my “Don’t Follow a Plan!” plan, and I’m happy to report my love of running has returned. I’ve been doing a lot of morning runs before work and I love how a good pre-dawn jaunt sets the rest of your day up for success. Well, for the most part anyway. Another peculiar thing has been occurring as of late that has me concerned. Maybe it’s the less miles run per week paired with my ravenous appetite, but my once dormant bulimia has tried nudging its way back in to my life. The voices telling me that I’m fat and worthless and need to fill the void with food to be immediately expelled are back inside my head. I’m ashamed to admit I’ve had a relapse in the past week.

Eating disorders, like alcoholism, are never “cured”, you just learn to better control them. You may be wondering why I’m sharing this information  (hey, I am the girl who’ll talk to any willing party about poop after all). The main reason is to hold myself accountable. I need to regain that control I had over bulimia for years after letting it take my life and happiness hostage for so long. I don’t want to go through that again, or put my loved ones through that again. I may also need to seek professional help to correct my disordered eating patterns lately. I think a visit to a dietician would be beneficial, perhaps I can find one with experience working with eating disorders.

All is not lost, oh dear strangers of the Internet. Despite my recent troubles I am experiencing levels of happiness in my life I never thought possible. In fact, I think it speaks to my newly developed confidence and strength that I’m able to recognize an emerging problem and fix it right away instead of letting myself drown like I would in years past. I have a lot to be excited about in the coming months (TRAILS! SUNSHINE! MEDALS! KITTIES! MY MANLY MAN-MAN*!) and I can’t let that bitch bulimia ruin the fun.

*The word “boyfriend” sounded silly when describing a 30-year-old man, so this is the best descriptor I could produce

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Pre-Marathon Ramblings: Salt Lake City Edition

Full marathon number four is less than two weeks away, and like most everything else in my life, I’m in complete denial about it. My training has been adequate at best. I’ve had lots of high-mileage weeks; however, in the month of March I blew off many long runs. When all of your training partners get injured, and the weather is out to kill you, and not to mention all the fun of getting a divorce and starting life all over again, running a third 20 miler doesn’t sound so appealing.

My heart will also be heavy knowing that while I’m off running with friends half-way across the country, my entire family will be gathered celebrating Easter and my grandmother’s 95th birthday. I already missed everyone at Christmas, and I could use a good dose of Gudme dry-humor to lift my spirits. Also weighing on my soul is the incredibly difficult decision to re-home two of the cats Randy and I shared. Since I’m unable to take all three (and he’s taking none), it was my only choice. I feel better knowing that I have found some good places for them and they will be taken care of, but still, they were my family. It’s not something I’m going to get over any time soon. In fact, I’m crying as I type this.

I’ve been told two things recently by some very practical men in my life: 1) Focus on the positive, and 2) Happiness is a choice. In the midst of all the sadness there are many positive aspects of my life I’ve been ignoring: I’m able to run. I get to see one of my best friends in Utah that I rarely get to see. I get to keep one kitty, my first kitty, the one who reformed my “dogs only!” attitude. I have wonderfully supportive parents and friends. And last but certainly not least, I have someone in my life who I love and loves me back, inspires me to be the best version of myself, and most importantly puts up with my stress-induced mood swings. If you’re reading this baby: I love you and have no idea how you do it. You deserve a medal more than I do.

And as for happiness being a choice, this past year has taught me how true this really is. I doubt most of us wake up in the morning feeling amazing and stress-free and excited to go into work. If you do, go fuck yourself. Seriously though, we all make a conscious decision to put on our game faces and do the best we can. If we’re lucky something may make us laugh, or we’ll see a good friend, or there will be birthday cake in the office kitchen. Otherwise, all we have to depend on for our happiness is ourselves. I’m sure that if I keep trying to focus on the positives in my life, happiness will come more naturally.

Well, this really had nothing to do with my upcoming marathon, but sometimes you’ve just got to let it all out, you know? And whatever I left unsaid in this post will be demolished on the pavement of Salt Lake City. And if not, there’s always the Charlevoix Marathon. Or my first 50K in September. Or the Indianapolis Monumental Marathon. Good God, what have I done?!

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Random Thoughts: February 2014 Edition

Though the winter weather continues to hold Michigan by the blue, shriveled, balls, at least we can rejoice that we are one month closer to the promise of spring. With so much chaos occurring around me I felt it would do my spirit good to focus on some of the highlights of this past month, in no particular order:

1) Salted Caramel

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Salty and Sweet: the flavor combination of the gods. Those who know me well know that I’m a peanut butter whore and will put it on or in just about anything. However, this winter I was introduced to the wonder that is salted caramel. I first tried it in the form of GU during my long runs, and sorry Peanut Butter GU, but I have a new favorite. The Salted Caramel GU goes down smooth and tastes like melted caramel candies. I’ve been rationing the packets I bought like they were Salted Caramel Crack.

Due to the success of Salted Caramel GU, I decided I should try actual salted caramel in a non-running gel form. Thankfully Sanders here in Birmingham has several salted caramel candies to choose from, including chocolate-covered salted caramel hearts for Valentine’s Day. Holy crap are they amazing. I intend to eat an entire bag the next time PMS rolls around. Salted caramel, will you be mine forever? XOXO

2) Undie Running

Me and Andrea and our totally unplanned matching animal hats

Me and Andrea and our totally unplanned matching animal hats

This past Saturday, despite overloading on salted caramel, I participated in the second annual Cupid’s Undie Run Detroit. Thousands of Detroiters took to Woodward to run one mile in their underwear, in 20 degrees. The event raised over $2 million for the Children’s Tumor Foundation, which is awesome. What’s even more awesome is being able to walk around Detroit in your underwear without getting arrested. Fine, I’ll come out and say it- I hate wearing pants.

Joining me in my undie running adventure was my buddy Andrea who ran with me last year. This year the event was held at the Fillmore in order to hold more people, which did raise more money; however, the house-party in your underpants atmosphere of last year turned into a creepy, club-like setting. I would think twice about running next year without a male escort. All of that aside, RUNNING IN YOUR UNDERPANTS IS THE BEST!

3) The Nike Training Club App

In an attempt to gain a six-pack before the above mentioned Undie Run, I downloaded the Nike Training Club app for my iPhone. There are hundreds of workouts to choose from, ranging from 15-minute ones that target specific muscles (the Sculpted Arms workout hurts so good), to 45-minute long circuit training routines. What I love most about this app is that anyone with a pair of free weights and a few feet of space can get in a killer workout. Every workout you complete earns you points toward different levels, some of which include bonus workouts. One bonus workout I completed was Paula Radlcliffe’s Marathon Prep Workout, which should’ve been titled, “Do Lunges Until You Beg for the Sweet Mercy of Death”. My new goal is to fit in at least three Nike Training Club workouts a week. I may not have a six-pack yet, but I am definitely seeing more definition.

The weather forecast is asking us not to get used to the warmer temperatures coming our way, since the rest of February will be back to polar conditions. I guess this is just the new normal here in Michigan. Oh well, I think with my balaclava, Salted Caramel GU, and burgeoning six-pack, I’ll make it out alive (seriously though, is more snow really all that necessary?).

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