The Fox...

I am a huge animal lover, huge! I often name the wild animals that appear at our house.  We have had Francis the Fox, Chester the Chipmunk, The Robinsons the Rabbits, and many, many more.  Basically, I love animals.

You can imagine how excited I was today when I was working on my laptop in our hearth room and I saw a fox appear outside our fence in the backyard.  I squealed, I was trying to taking pictures, and was just oh so excited!

I was trying to text Ken a picture of Francis the Fox, when suddenly Francis's lady friend appeared!  I was screaming and managed to get a picture of the lady friend.

I called Ken and told him about my siting and he thought it was so cool that I saw Francis and his lady friend and that I was so excited.

I text him a few pictures after I hung up with him.  A few minutes later, Ken called me back.  He told me that he was very sorry, he was calling with bad news.  Apparently the fox, was not a fox.

That's right, the "fox" and the "lady friend" were both actually coyotes.

Oops.

What I thought was Francis the Fox, but actually is Mr. Coyote

You can see how concerned Kya is that a coyote is behind her.

The lady friend making a mad dash

At first, I thought Ken was lying to me about the animals being coyotes. I Googled a coyote and it turns out, they were both coyotes.

The One With the Swimsuit That is Two Sizes Too Small...

One thing about being small is that I never have to worry about guessing what size I wear.  If whatever it is that I am buying comes in an XS, that is the size I buy, no questions asked.

A few weeks ago I was online looking for a new swimsuit since my current suit went from acceptable to completely unacceptable over night.

Yes, it was seriously a borderline sagging boob incident.

Moving on...

I found this super cute suit that I ended up buying.

Yes, it looks like it has sequins.   Pink, leopard and faux sequins, someone stop me!

I immediately deemed it my suit for the swim portion of Ironman Louisville.  I mean, what person is not already planning their outfits for the big day?

I also decided that I should order another suit to throw in the rotation.

I quickly decided on this suit here since it has pink in it.  Without hesitation, I ordered an XS.

Not that is a bright suit!

The suits arrived and I was like a kid at Christmas.  I of course, wore the pink leopard, sparkly suit first.  I mean, this me we are talking about.

I grabbed the other suit a few days later and thought I would try it on.  Yeah.  That went well.

It was something out of Tommy Boy.  Imagine someone trying to squeeze themselves into a swimsuit that was clearly meant for a toddler.

I could not even get the thing on.  Instantly, my self esteem plummeted and I started thinking that perhaps all those cupcakes have been a little excessive. 

Of course I am not one to concede on cupcake eating, so I got the genius idea to compare the leopard sparkly suit that was also XS with the sausage wrapping suit.

I even brought in a second opinion.

Clearly there is an issue here

And yes, this is clearly a toddler sized suit.  I am sure this puppy is causing women everywhere to push away from the table.

Luckily, I know that I am healthy, well except for the high sugar intake, but potato, potatoe.

This suit will be going back wear it came from!  I am not exactly sure who can fit into an XS this tiny, but it is not this girl.

The Indian Meal Moth Massacre of 2013...

See this thing, this thing right here?

This nasty little creature caused quite the stir in our house.  

I would like to introduce you to the Indian Meal Moth.  

Yep, these things decided to move into out house, unannounced and without an invitation.  

Nasty.

I noticed these bugs flying around our laundry room a week or so ago.  They were contained to this room and we were not sure where they were coming from.  

We got rid of all of them or so we thought, and more appeared.  We quickly called an exterminator to come out, since we had no idea where or how these little bastards were getting into our laundry room.

Bird seed.  

Yep, you see, we were storing our bird seed bag on top of our cabinets in the laundry room.  Apparently, these things live in bird seed and can eat their way through the bag.  

Gross.

We got rid of the bird seed and the exterminator said it he would need to wait at least five days to spray to be sure all of the larvae had hatched.  Let's say that word again:  larvae.  I just shiver thinking about it.

Then, they were in our garage.  They clearly could not take the hint that they were not welcome.  

Oh it gets better.

Fast forward to Saturday, and I open our pantry to find, you guessed it, one of those little meal moth bastards.  

We both panic and instantly start emptying the pantry.  Ken had read that the little bastards like grain, rice, and flour.  Guess where I found where they decided to make their new home?  

An unopened bag of rice.  

Yep.  

It was nasty.  I will spare you a picture for fear of giving you nightmares.

We trashed everything that was not in a can or jar.

I am not going to lie, there were many casualties.

Too many to count actually.  So many baked goods were lost during the battle.

Chocolate chips, peanut butter chips, coconut, powdered sugar, the list goes on and on.  There is a silver lining, my cans of pumpkin managed to survive.  Hallelujah!

My orderly kitchen quickly looked like this:

Such a mess

Stuff was everywhere

Empty pantry cleaned and sprayed

We let the pantry sit overnight with traps for the meal moths.  I guess Ken opened pheromone capsules and placed them in the traps.  They flocked to the traps like crazy in the garage.  Horny bastards.  We have only caught one additional moth in the pantry.  I am hoping that they are gone.  

In order to be extra cautious, we went to Target and spent a significant amount of money on air tight storage containers for the pantry.  After seeing those bastards in the rice, I can go the rest of my life without seeing that again.  

Plus, the containers are you know, pretty.

New and improved pantry after dropping a few bones.

Indian Meal Moth Massacre 2013.  Never Forget.

May you all rest in peace.  Suckers.  

He Read My Mind...

One of the things that I love most about Ken is that he just gets me.  He usually knows when I want something.

Yesterday I was descaling our Keuring, aka Hazel.  I was silently thinking that it might be here time to go.  

I know, it is a sad thought.

I cleaned her up wished her another great six months and was done. 

This morning I woke up to a husband that was already a cup of coffee ahead of me.  Which by the way, is quite odd because he was not a coffee drinker before I got a hold of him.  

Anyway, I made my coffee and sat down to watch a little TV with him when he changed the channel to QVC.  (I know, why would he do that?)

Guess what they were featuring?  The brand new upgraded Keuring Vue Brewing System.

We both sat there in Awe.  I was thinking how bad I wanted the damn thing.  

I was waiting to see who would say something first.  

Ken jokingly told me to order it.  I laughed.  I told him I thought Hazel had another six months in here.  

He laughed.  There was a discussion about how long we have had Hazel.

Almost four years.   That is approximately 3,000 cups of coffee brewed by Hazel.

I looked at Hazel and realized that she does look tired.  I mean, it is almost like she is asking for me to put her down.  She is just not brewing as fast as she used to.  

In that moment, Ken insisted I pull the trigger.  

So I did.  You do not have to tell me twice.

This little beauty will be arriving this week.

To celebrate, I had Hazel brew me another cup of coffee.  She seems relieved that retirement is upon her.

The One with the Lady and No Bra...

If I know my friend Heather, she just spit her coffee out reading that title.  Yep, this is the story about my encounter with the lady not wearing a bra.

Sure, we have all been there at some point.  You know, the dress with the back that does not allow for a bra, maybe the dress sucks the girls up and there is no room for a bra.  We have all been there.  Just not everyday and you know, at the age of 60.

Yes, that is right this lady was around 60.

Let me back up.  I recently started working at a clothing store a few hours a week for a little extra social interaction.  I absolutely love it.  You mean I get to chat with other women and make fashion tips.  All of this and a 40% discount?  Sold.

Anyway, I was making a few shirt suggestions to this lady the other day.  Long story short, she ended up telling me that she does not wear a bra.  For whatever reason, she felt so comfortable with me that she asked me if I could tell that she was not wearing a bra at that moment.

Gulp.

Talk about awkward.  Good thing I work well under pressure and am good and BSing.  :)

Oh but it gets worse.  Way worse.  I was helping her in the dressing room.  Since I was aware that she does not wear a bra, she made sure and point to her chest with every item to ask me if I can tell she is not wearing a bra.  Yeah, I know.

At one point she did ask me if her boobs were flopping all over the place.  How I kept my composure, I have no idea.  Obviously, this proves I will make a fine nurse one day. 

I saved the best for last.  She tried on a lighter colored top that was a little too small.  You get the picture right?  Well, she walked out and I immediately saw the outlining of EVERYTHING.  She quickly covered her chest and asked me to follow her to the dressing room and asked me if I thought she should get the one she was wearing or the larger size.  Yes, that really happened.  And, she bought the shirt. 

All Fun and Games Until Ken Starts to Sweat...

Ken is still trucking right along with his Couch to 5K training in preparation to hike Rim to Rim to Rim of the Grand Canyon in June.  He has been very consistent with his training, which has shocked me a little bit, just because he hates running.  I secretly hope that he will decide he likes running 2-3 miles a few days a week and might join me every now and then.  Of course, I will not hold my breath.

The big day for Ken was a few weeks ago when he was scheduled to run two full miles non-stop.  I am pretty sure he was intimidated, but he did not let that stop him.  I was gone, so I was unable to join him, but I did receive a very exciting text from him that he did it and was happy with his time.  I was so proud of him. 

I was hoping for the same performance from him on Monday night, when he was scheduled to run 2.25 miles and I was joining him for moral support.  

Not so much.

You see, Ken gets bored with things easily.  I am probably the only thing he has never gotten bored with and that is just because I am so funny.  :)  He would be a fool to get bored with someone that laughs at her own jokes.

We started out on the trail and he told me he just was not feeling it.  I always remind him that it takes everyone a little bit to settle in and get breathing under control.  I would like to say that the run was all rainbows and unicorns and that Ken ran the entire 2.25 miles like a Kenyan and that he loves running so much that he wants to sign up for a marathon, but that would make me a huge liar and I would instantly be struck by lightning.  I have way too much planned this year to let that happen.  Sorry, I have to get to NYC to see Matt Lauer before he leaves the Today Show.

Ken was panting and sweating.  He was complaining about the heat.  I checked the temperature when we got in the car and boy it was a scorcher.  It was 71 degrees you know.  I reminded him that I finished an Ironman in the 96 degree heat.  I am sure he did not want to open the car door and push me out onto Nall or anything after that sweet comment. 

I also noticed that he was sweating like crazy.  I did a quick mirror check of myself and noticed that I was not sweating at all, but should probably not draw any attention to that since the Ironman comment. 

We get out of the car and start walking into the house and he looks at me, sweat dripping down his brow, and asks me if I even broke a sweat.  I smile my cutest smile possible and say nope!  Poor Ken.

In the interest of full disclosure, we went to the the track last night to run sprints.  We both ran separately and did our own thing until Ken decided he wanted to run one with me.  He even told me if he could not keep my pace, he would fall back and for me to finish without him. 

Well, you will be shocked to hear that not only did he keep my pace, the bastard actually passed me in the end.  I kept pushing, but when you are only 4'10 tall and your husband is 6'5, there is little hope for your midget legs.  Job well done Ken.  Well done.

Leawood Midnight Run...

I have a confession to make.  Up until a week ago, I had never run a 5K before. 

Gasp.

I know, I know, I have run eight marathons, too many half marathons to count, and even completed an Ironman, but I have never run an organized 5K before.  Ken did inform me that most people run a 5K as their first race before progressing to other distances.  Well, I am not most people. 

The first race I ever signed up for was a marathon.  I did run a half marathon about four weeks prior to the marathon, making it my very first race.  I know I have pointed this out before but I will mention it again (mainly because I love the look of panic on people's faces), Ironman Louisville was my first and ONLY triathlon I have participated in.  Boom.

Basically, I dream big. 

So on Friday last week, we were watching all of the drama unfold with the Boston Bomber (we are thrilled they caught that loser, by the way), Ken read that the Leawood Midnight run for Special Olympics was happening right near our house.  We joked about going, I may have told Ken that I was unsure if I could stay up until midnight.  Ken and I had both already completed our runs for the day and debated about going.

Yes, you read that correctly, Ken finished his run as well.  God bless his long legs. 

We decided that it would be fun to go and take Kya.  I mean, what kind of husky has not run in a race before?  She was super excited and a little bit confused as to why her mama was getting dressed to run at 11:00 at night, but she cooperated. 

It was a fun little race, Kya and I ran the 5K and Ken ran the one mile race.  Yes, Ken ran in a race.  Maybe I can get him to like running?  I finished the 5K in 25:00 minutes.  I actually really enjoyed the 5K and would like to run another one to see how fast I can run one.  I would also like to run one that does not start at midnight, which is way past my bedtime. 

It was quite cold out.  Kya was just certain that the bucket was full of water, just for her.  She was sadly mistaken not once, but twice as she was complaining about how hot it was outside.  No water in the bucket. 

See you next year Leawood Midnight Run!

Good-Bye Old Friend...

It is no secret at the KJ household that we do not keep cars for very long.  The longest I have owned a car was four years and Ken just celebrated his 4th year of owning his Hummer, Humberto.  With that being said, I should not have been surprised at all when Ken started looking at new cars.

I kind of thought that he would keep him forever, but I also knew that he was ready to move onto something that had more options.  Not that the power windows and the thermometer that Humberto had are not options.  We will just say that Humberto was very basic. 

While I was out of town a few weeks ago, Ken text me to tell me he was going to take a personal day.  I knew what that meant.  Poor Humberto was being kicked to the curb. 

Bless his heart, he did not even see it coming.

Just like that, Humberto was gone.  Traded in, all for some hot piece of fiberglass with heated seats and remote start.  I hope Ken can sleep at night. 

The truth is, Ken almost cried when he left him in the parking lot.  Out of all of the cars he has owned, this was his favorite.  Rest in Peace sweet boy, Rest in Peace. 

Move over Humberto, there is a new Sheriff in town!

Back to Basics...

And I am not talking about running.  I am talking about Math.  Algebra to be more exact.  Why is a 32 (did I really just type that?) year old girl talking about Algebra?  Well folks, Ken and I have made the executive decision for me to go back to school.  Gasp...

You see, I did not go to college after high school.  People are typically shocked by this when I am asked about where I went.  I had no idea what I wanted to be when I grew up, so I decided to work instead and go back to school later.  Well, it turns out that I found my way into sales and you do not necessary need a degree to work in sales.  Well, I now know what I want to be when I grow up:  a nurse.  :)

While I do not regret all of the life experience I have gained over the last 13 years, I do realize that there is at least one thing that would have been easier if I had gone right after high school:  MATH.  More specifically, Algebra. 

You see, I was an over achiever in high school.  My grade point average was 3.85.  So imagine my surprise when I read that I had to take the Compass Test for placement into a math class.  I was all, I had a 3.85 in high school, how hard can this placement test be?  Um, yeah, I wish that was what I was saying after the test.

I started off by looking at a few study guides online.  I studied Monday and Tuesday on and off during the day.  Let's just say thank goodness I did this and did not try to wing it.  I totally had the Pre-Algebra stuff down.  I just needed a bit of a refresher, so I thought I was good.  I had it in my mind that I would walk in, and pass the test with flying colors and be placed in the College Algebra class.  I did have a 3.85 13 years ago.  Wrong.

I had debated about taking an extra day to study, but ultimately decided that I was freaking myself out more by waiting.  So I drove my happy self to JCCC last night to take the test.  Right out the gate the questions were not Pre-Algebra, they were Algebra.  Um yeah, this might be ugly.

I could have sat there all day and not been able to figure it out.  It was definitely above my refresher course level.  I was instantly glad that I decided to take the test now and not wait.  A day would not have helped me learn any of that mess.  It all came down to making educated guesses on the Algebra stuff.  There is no way to BS your way through Algebra, which is rather unfortunate for someone like myself.

I finished the math, the reading, and the writing and went to collect my scores.  There in black and white was the worst score I have ever received on a test in my entire life. 

Alegbra:  22.  A 22!

I was fine in the Pre-Algreba category, but the Algebra section killed me.  My first math class will be, wait for it, wait for it...Elementary Algebra.  Bam, talk about a shot to my 3.85 ego.

You can just imagine how much fun Ken had with that one.  I mean, a 22.  Out of 100.  Yikes.

In all honesty, I do realize that I have no business being in a College Algebra class without a refresher course since it has been 13 years since I have taken a math class.  It still stings a tad though.

What Did I Get Myself Into...

Yes, that is what I was asking myself at approximately 10:30 am on Sunday morning while I was gasping for air thanks to the terribly cold water that I was just forced into.  Before I get to that, let me back up a bit.

My husband loves camping.  I mean LOVES camping.  Unfortunately for him, he married a girl that thinks camping is where you are pretending to be homeless.  Think about it for a moment.  You are sleeping in a tent with very few belongings, you have to walk to go to the bathroom, and you heat your food up outside.  The only thing missing is a shopping cart to schlep your stuff in. 

In my defense, Ken grew up camping.  I did not go camping until 2005 and it was with Ken.  I feel as though I must mention that the lows at night during that first camping trip were in the 30's and it was raining.  Not a good introduction to someone that is terrified of sleeping outside. 

Anyway, back in 2009 we started going on a small camping trip with each other during the Fall.  I mean, if I can drag him all throughout cities to watch me run a marathon, I can handle pretending to be homeless for one weekend right?  I mean talk about scoring major amazing wife points.  Now don't get any ideas, this trip has rules.  I am like the queen of making rules. 

Keri's Rules of Camping:
1. No more than two nights
2. Running water is required
3. There must be s'mores

Easy right?  Oh, these camping trips also involve floating down a river at the request of my husband.  Another thing you may or may not know about me, but up until this past year when I did my Ironman, I had NEVER and I mean NEVER been in a river for the purpose of swimming or hanging out.  I mean, they are dirty for Pete's sake!

Miss Kya started attending the annual camping trips with us starting in 2010.  I am a bit of a freak when it comes to Kya and made her wear a life jacket.  I am sure all of the other doggies on the river called her a wimp, a mama's girl, a princess, but I did not care, she is not a water dog.  I mean have you seen her?  I know, now is probably a good time to start feeling really sorry for Ken. 

Prior to leaving this year, it was noted that for the last two years that Kya attended, it has poured down rain at some point.  She is now called the Rain Goddess.  Quite honestly, I am not sure that she will be asked to return next year.  And you know what, I do not think she is going to be disappointed after what happened this year...

We left on Saturday morning at 6:00 am to make the drive to the middle of Missouri to the Current River.  I always struggle with these drives because part of me cannot wait to get out of the car and the other part of me knows what is ahead.  I try to focus on the s'mores that I get to eat. 

This year upon unloading the car, it was realized that someone had forgotten to pack the tent.  My first reaction was that we should just drive back home, because I am not sleeping outside without a tent.  I also may have asked Ken how on earth you forget a tent while packing to go camping.  He may have reminded me that he was in charge of everything due to his high maintenance wife or something of that nature.  Whatever.  Instead of driving back to Kansas City like I had suggested, Ken drove to Salem to buy a tent. 

When he left, he told me that we would not have time to float on Saturday and would only be able to float on Sunday.  Okay, no skin off my back.  I will read.  It was later determined that we did indeed have time to go floating on Saturday, so off we went.  Kya of course was wearing her life jacket and someone asked me if she was a seeing eye dog.  What?  I guess when you are wearing a life jacket coupled with a lady with big sunglasses, you equal seeing eye dog.

We finished floating and it was rather uneventful.  We did decide that when we are asked what kind of a dog Kya is that we are now responding with a boxer to see what people say.  The evening was finished off with s'mores. 

This is one of the only reasons I agree to go camping

Then, all hell broke loose.  It started pouring.  I mean POURING.  I told Ken that I was on high alert in case Kya and I needed to take shelter.  He laughed.  I was serious.  I hardly slept at all.  Oh and guess what, that new tent from Salem was a POS and leaked.  Ken had to wake up and put the pop up tent over us to keep the tent dry. 

As you can imagine, I was super pleasant when I woke up.  I mean sleeping on the ground, in the rain, in a tent.  Sign me up!  I told Ken I was not sure if I would be back, that I am getting way too old for this.  He grumbled at me.  I took Kya for a quick run and then it was time for day two of floating.  We had 10 miles to do before we were at our car. 

About one mile into the float, we came upon a spring with a lot of people in kayaks and canoes around.  Ken had our nice camera out and I told him I thought he should put the camera away.  He informed me that he had floated 1,000 times and had never flipped a canoe or kayak and that we were fine.  Okay.  I also told that Kya could come up front with me instead of in the center of the canoe where she was walking back and forth.  He told me she was fine.  Okay. 

Take special note of the people on the right.  This is the last picture of the day.

Then it happened.  We went over a tree root that was in the water but hidden.  And bam, the canoe was turned over and Ken and I were both in the water.  Not just water, cold water, water that was under 60 degrees.  I looked around for Kya in the water but did not see her.  Where was she?  Oh she was still standing in the canoe while Ken and I were trying to hold on to the canoe.  Yeah, she did not want to get out of the canoe.  The canoe started filling up with water and she had to get out.  I looked over and Ken and he was holding the camera up out of the water and I watched it fall into the river.  Did I mention that this part of the river was really deep and Ken could not touch? 

I yelled at Ken to get Kya.  Get Kya, save the dog.  Ken later reminded me that Kya was the one wearing a life jacket, but I did not find that funny.  The canoe was completely sinking and Kya was apparently going down with the ship.  A few very nice people had paddled over to help us and Kya swam over to hop in some lady's kayak.  See, I told you she hates the water.  Ken grabbed her and got her to shore.  A nice man helped me get over to the opposite edge of the river.  I was mainly cold and upset about the entire situation, but I probably should have just swam over to the other side to be with Ken.  Honestly, for Ken's safety, he is probably glad I didn't.  I was a little on the mad side since I had just told him to put the camera in his dry bag and he did not listen. 

So here I am, completely soaked and cold and only one mile in.  Fortunately, there was a trail leading back to our campsite and we were only a mile away, so Kya and I walked back to the campsite and called it a day.  Ken ended up paddling the entire 10 miles so he could get his car.  He did come upon the super nice people that had assisted us and they were curious where his passengers went.  Ken had to explain to them that his passengers just come along once a year and are by no means actual paddlers.  I do not even touch a paddle the entire time. 

While I do realize it was not entirely Ken's fault, Kya and I were still under is care during the camping trip so we hold him responsible.  Fortunately, we were all okay and I had time to calm down before Ken got back to the campsite.  In summary, I did not kill Ken.

The entire campsite was pretty empty, so we were quite surprised and annoyed when these two mean set up their tent right next to our campsite.  The one guy walked by and told me that we have a prize German Shepherd and then he used to raise them.  Um, well sir, if you used to raise them, then you would know that our little prize German Shepherd is actually a Siberian Husky.  Neither Ken or I had the heart to tell the guy, because he kept going on and on about it.  He was old, so maybe he could not see all that well. 

The rest of the evening was very uneventful.  We did not take any pictures, since our camera had gone swimming in the Current River earlier that day, but we did have s'mores. 

At approximately 3:00 am, I heard commotion coming from the campsite next to us.  I of course, instantly think that something shady is up.  I told Ken I did not feel right about the situation and that I was going to go sleep in the car.  Ken laughed he told me the guys were probably very cold and were packing up to leave.  I of course did not believe him and sat up and opened the tent window to see what was going on.  I quickly tell Ken that the old guys next to us have set up some canopy thing and that I cannot completely tell what they were doing.  (In my mind, they were either setting up a huge breakfast spread or setting up an area like on the movie Hostel to torture us.)  Ken told me to stop staring, and leave it alone, they are probably going to a hotel.

I just knew that they were murders and were packing up to leave.  Why else would they be leaving in the middle of the night.  Ken said they would leave due to the cold.  Whatever.  I was prepared to bail.  I then heard a noise, that turned out to be the hood of the car closing.  The canopy that I thought they had put up was no canopy at all, it was the hood of the car.  The area where I saw the guy "working" was actually the car engine and not a table for breakfast or a torturious table.  Oops. 

Both guys got in the car and I had my eyes on them.  Maybe Ken was right, maybe they were going to a hotel.  I had to make sure the car turned to get to the road and not towards our tent.  I watched them slowly turn away toward the road and felt relief and jealously all at the same time.  It was pretty cold and all I could think was take me with you! 

There you have it, our camping adventure from 2012.  While this is certainly not my favorite thing to do, I do enjoy spending time with Ken doing one of his favorite things.  I am just glad it is only once a year and we have 51 weeks until it is time to go again.  :)

Because the Outfit Matters Most...

When I first signed up for Ironman Kentucky on December 19, 2012, I knew without a doubt what I would be wearing for the bike and run portions of the race.  I mean, who does not plan this type of important detail nine months in advance? 

Drum roll please....

The Swim:

I know, I know, this is purple and not pink.  Sigh...Well, you remember when I mentioned that I had to get a new swimsuit due to my last one borderline being a complete peep show?  Well, they were out of pink in XS, so the only thing I could do is get purple.  Purple is still girly.

The Bike:

At first I thought that maybe this was too much pink, and then I realized, pink is like pumpkin, you can never have too much!  Of course my skirt has built in bike shorts to add some extra comfort while I am on the bike for seven hours.  Why am I wearing a skirt?  Because no one really looks that good in spandex shorts. 

The Run:

This is my favorite!  I wore this outfit when I hiked South to North in the Grand Canyon.  I wanted to make sure that it wore well during an extended period of time and it was just fabulous!  I was bummed that I could not find a pink visor, but was very happy with this sea foam green one that I found.  Yes, I just said sea foam green.  Look for me on the run portion in the pink skirt and sea foam green visor!  Could I be anymore of a girl!  I am also planning on rocking the pig tails, oh yeah!

 As I told Ken, my motto is:  If you cannot be fast, be cute!

Random Training Things...

With all of the training I have been doing lately, things are bound to go wrong, right?  I mean, I am so not a professional or even an experienced tri-athlete, so I am bound to do things that are silly.  I like to think of myself as the normal everyday tri-athlete.  I try not to take things too seriously, knowing full well that I am just rolling with the punches on this whole ironman thing.

• I have been wearing my swimcap backwards for oh, the last seven months.  Yep, that's right, I just noticed the other day that a lady in the gym was wearing the same pink cap as me and the speedo logo was on the front and not the back like I have been wearing it.  I took a good look at my swimcap and noticed that yes, the logo obviously goes in front.
• I also just realized on Friday the correct way my goggles go on.  In my defense, I have only had these specific goggles for about six weeks, but still.  I had zero goggle issues on my 2.4 mile swim on Friday and told myself that I needed to mark them as to which side is up.  Well guess what, there is a mark on both sides of the goggles that show which is the top side.  In my defense, the top and bottom look a lot alike.
• I finally had to buy a new swimsuit.  Mine went from okay to borderline peep show overnight.  My biggest fear is that my butt crack was showing because the bottoms were falling down.  That's right, I just typed butt crack.  Don't even ask about how the top was starting to fit.
• I think I finally have my breathing down to where I am not spitting on anyone when I breathe.  This is a step in the right direction.
• I had to share a lane with a guy at the pool the other day.  Guess what, I was faster than him.  I am sure he did not realize that it was a competition, but I totally kicked his butt. 
• I have encountered more dead animals on my bike rides than I can count.  I think this is the worst part about riding a bike.  You see and smell so many awful things.  On my 90 mile ride over the weekend, I saw a dead raccoon, dead skunk, and a dead deer.  I turned around when I saw the dead deer.  That was too much.  Plus, it was at the bottom of a big hill and I felt that the dead deer was a sign that I should turn around. 
• I passed someone on the bike on Saturday.  A man to be more exact.  Sure, he was like 60, but it still counts.  Seeing how I am so slow on the bike, this is a huge victory and I will take my props when I can get them.
• Speaking of being passed, there is this one hill on my route that is the death of me.  It is at 159th and Mission and it is not even the steepest hill I ride up.  It always comes about three miles from home at the end of the ride and is about a half mile long or so.  I hate this hill.  A few weeks ago, I was dying going up this sucker and out of nowhere comes a Lance Armstrong wannabe flying up the hill.  He turns around and asks me if I was okay.  I was not quite sure what made him thing I was struggling, my heavy panting or the fact that I was counting while I was going up the hill and every other word was an f-bomb?  I assured him I was fine and had already ridden 60 miles and that is why I was cursing so much.  That and my hoo hoo hurt.

Random Happenings...

• I was in charge of watering our lawn last week while Ken is out of town.  If you know me, you know this is not good.  I had to move the sprinklers around to the front yard and ended up getting sprayed in the face and still did not have them covering the full yard.  I just could not figure the darn things out. 
• I was also in charge of taking the garbage out last week.  Fortunately for me, the recycle truck drove by as I was walking out of the garage with the garbage can wearing heels and a dress.  The recycle truck stopped, the guy got out and he took the garbage to the curb.  How sweet was he!
• The last few weeks I have been doing things that do not make any sense.  For example, I made Ken a cup of coffee the other day and forgot to put the coffee cup under the spout of the Keurig!  I wondered why there was coffee all over the counter...
• I also have left the lid up to the washer at least three times.  I wonder why I can never hear it running...
• I also shook a can of parmesan cheese with the top open.  Miss Kya helped out with that problem.
• I have also started the wrong burner on the stove and wondered why my item is not cooking.
• Oh and the new low that happened this morning, I opened the oven and started to put my dirty coffee cup in there instead of the dishwasher.

All I can say is, bless my heart. 

A Tearful Goodbye...

Today was a sad day.  Today was the day when I had to say goodbye to Mendy the Mountaineer.  We have had many good times together.  I mean, I cannot even count the number of Starbucks runs, trips to shop, or trips to the gym she and I have taken.  But, it was time.  It was time for me to move on.

I had driven Mendy over 443 hours!  I am glad that she was able to make one last Stabucks run before our goodbye. 

Ahh Mendy, my wish for you is that a nice family will find you and utilize all of your features.  Your third row seat and DVD player need a little use.  :)

What did I get to replace Mendy?

A Lincoln MKX

Not sure what her name will be.  She is TBD for now.  I am already in love.

Going Crazy for Fall!

Here is what I am burning today

This is what it looks like outside today

The only thing I am missing is a Pumpkin Spice Latte from Starbucks!  Too bad they do not come out until the end of August.  Boo!  On the plus side, I did enjoy one of these bad boys yesterday...

That's right, a mini Pumpkin Pie Blizzard from Dairy Queen!  My day was completely made by this wonderful treat!

Happy Almost Fall!

Back to Normal...

During my eight weeks of no running, my candy dish in my kitchen looked like this:

Empty and very sad

This dish is always filled with candy.  It houses three types of M&M's except for at Easter when it is filled with all of the yummy pastel goodness that I consume.  I mean, my friends have come to expect candy at my house.  I decided to refill it since Ken, the guy who does not eat candy, demanded M&M's.  What kind of a wife would I be if I did not please my husband?

There she is, in all her glory.  This picture would not rotate for some reason.

Michelle, please tell Rob to rest assured, the M&M's are back!

It's a Low Carb Thing...

I tried.  I really did.  I tried to switch over to a low carb lifestyle.  I made it one week.  One week.  That is all I could handle.  We will not go into the reason why I thought I could go low carb.  It really sounded like a good idea at the time.

The first few days were actually pretty easy.  I guess I was excited and I wanted to see if I could really do it.  I was a good girl, counted my carbs, ate my cheese and almonds.  I even had a little wine the first few days.  My goal was to keep my daily carb intake below 100.  I had even figured out that if I was really below on a few days, I could use the extra as a cheat for dessert over the weekend.  Huh, sounds like it is going to be rough.  I mean, not even a week in and I find a way to cheat the system.

I knew I was in trouble on Independence Day when I pretty much ate nothing all day just so I could have a red velvet cupcake.  It was worth every single bite by the way.  Still, I pressed on.  I went to work and I could have killed someone.  I mean I was snapping at people left and right.  My boss thought I was insane, but wanted to seem supportive.  At home, Ken was dodging me.  Yeah, he did not want to be around his low carb wife. 

I knew it was going to be tough when I found myself going to the grocery store to buy more cheese and almonds and I was just hanging out in the ice cream section.  Yeah, I was walking by the ice cream and saying hello old friends, I miss you all.  I was checking all of the carbs in the ice cream bars and realized that the Klondike Bars could indeed be something that I could sneak in as a snack.  Of course, this meant skipping a meal, but who really cares when you can eat a Klondike Bar.  I blame this on Ken because he was the one wanting the Klondike Bars. 

Despite hanging out at the grocery store in the ice cream aisle, I thought I was on the home stretch and then my boss brought in bagels on Thursday.  Really Randy?  I mean, you know I am a bagel lover and you bring in bagels.  I kept my composer and did not strangle him on the spot like I wanted to.  I even managed to keep the cursing to a minimum when he said "bagels are low carb right?" - really Randy?  Do you want me to close line you when you walk out of the bathroom?  A few threats later and he decided it was best not to speak to me for the rest of the day. 

Thursday was not only bagel day, but it is also a running day.  I got home from work and Ken called me.  Apparently my tone was less than stellar.  He told me to forget the low carb thing and just to go to dinner with him.  I told him that would be quitting.  We had an exchange of words and I proceeded to pout.  I am sure that is shocking.  He came home and I was sitting in my chair pouting.  He told me how silly he thought this diet was and that I should quit.  I decided to just go running.  I was pissed.  Guess what I found myself singing over my Ipod?  What would you dooooo for a Klondike Bar?  I tried to tune it out.  I called myself all sorts of names and told myself to man up.  I tried to sing with Britney when she came on, but I could not resist singing What would you dooooo for a Klondike Bar?  At this point I would have killed someone for a Klondike Bar.

So what do I do?  Finish my three mile run, walk into the house dripping in sweat, not speaking to Ken and grab a Klondike Bar and go to town. 

I enhaled that Klondike Bar in under a minute.  Best thing ever.  And with that, I quit the low carb lifestyle.

Embarrassing, yes, but I have to share!

Yesterday, Ken called to tell me about the results from his MRI on his shoulder.  He told me and then we chatted for a bit.  After the call, my friend Scott came into my office and I told him that Ken's MRI results showed that he has a torn labia.  His eyes got huge.  I said it again.  He busted up laughing and asked me to stop saying it.  Me, being so innocent just looked at him and said, he has a torn labia, what is the big deal?

Next thing you know, the girls in the office next to me are dying laughing.  Scott is about to pee his pants and he tells me that I should not say that word anymore.  I ask him what it means and he points to his crotch area.  I pretend to know and try to run thru every male anatomy part I can think of and cannot seem to place a labia.  Hmm....

I go next door and ask the girls what it means.  Oh.  Shelly tells me that Ken definitely does not have a labia. 

Turns out Ken has a torn labrum.

An Intervention Please....

Keep your eyes peeled on A&E on Monday nights for the lastest version of Intervention.  I will be featured regarding my excessive consumption of Easter candy. 

I am embarrassed and ashamed to admit how much Easter candy I have eaten since Valentine's Day.  ASHAMED I tell you!  It is madness, pure madness.  Something has to happen.  Stores need to simply stop selling it.  I simply need to stop going to Target, the grocery store, or any other place that has Easter candy. 

There is just something about Easter candy.  Candy shaped as eggs just tastes so much better.  I cannot stop buying it and eating it. 

I am currently in the process of eating my 8th, 9th, and 10th bag.  **Hangs head in shame**  I will give you a moment to process this information. 

So if you go to Target or your local Price Chopper and notice that they are out of Cadbury Mini Eggs, Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs, Speckled Peanut Butter M&M's, or Sweetart Gummy's you know that I must shop there.  :)

Things I say...

I grew up in Southwest Missouri.  While this area is not super Southern, the residents tend to have a special twang of their own.  I am fortunate that after a few years of living in Kansas City, I have lost this twang and it only comes out when I am super excited or say certain things.  Ken and I were talking the other day about a few of the things I say and a few of the things I do not say.

Fixin' - I have never said this.  It just did not seem right.

Y'all - I did say this once upon a time.  I had to train myself not to say this.  In fact, this is probably the easiest thing to go back to saying.  I have to watch it.  If I say it once, it will stick!

Pop - I used to say pop and I trained myself to say soda.

Bless your heart - I am so guilty of saying this all of the time.  My friend Michelle totally makes fun of me for this.  Whatever, she is from Iowa.  ;)

So stinkin' sweet - I also catch a lot of grief from Michelle for saying this one.  I cannot help it.  Sometimes things are so stinkin' sweet!

Dilly Dally - You know, when you are piddling away or wasting time.

Piddling - Wasting time. My mom always says this and it stuck with me.

And the biggest thing that I had to break myself of is saying my husband's name, Ken.  Yeah, hard to mess up right?  Well, I used to say Kin with a twang.  I did not even realize that I was doing it.  Lovely.  Fortunately, he did fall in love with me with my Missouri Twang and all.  Luckily, I know pronouce his name correctly unless I am super excited.  :)