Vitamin-D Fatigue

You guys.  This weekend was such a good weekend, but the kind of weekend that you need a weekend from afterwards.  Or perhaps I just need a leetle bit more regular exercise in my days, because whoa! I am wiped. out.  Handsome is sleeping on the living room floor, per his usual I-ran-5-miles-today-so-now-I'm-tired.  Me, well, I just got a little bit of sun, and you know how that does.

I want you to know that if you ever, EVAR, have the chance to participate in a Color Run (by the legit color run folks), you should.  Unless you hate color.  Or happiness.  Or fanny packs.  Provided that you hate none of those, you should do it.

(before)

(after)

The weekend didn't stop with the run, though.  There was a gymnastics meet where I got to see little toddlers do their "routine" and about die of cuteness.  There was a great morning at church where RG did not get kicked out of the nursery for inconsolable fussiness (as opposed to last week...).  And then there was a stolen hour at the lake in the warm sunshine (hence my tiredness) (vitamin D-fatigue, its a thing). 

This was an especially sweet weekend because its one of the last for a while.  The proper motivation has been provided for me to finally finish my dissertation, and so there will be a lot of all-work-and-no-play-makes-Mariah-a-dull-girl weekends in my future, until I finally graduate this summer.  I'm not looking forward to the getting there, but being done?  Oh mylanta, the idea that I might actually be finished with being a student sounds almost better than chocolate.  Which, on this 35th day of Lent, is really saying something. [Note: the Lenten season expires (totally not the right word) on Thursday after Mass.  FYI.]  

Gear up, folks, its gonna be Monday tomorrow.  And that means its go-time.

<3 M.

Personality Conflict

So I *ran* in a Mud Run yesterday.  And my use of the word *ran* is relative.  Most of the time, we just moved our arms real fast and walked with our feet, yelling back at the Marines who yelled at us, "Look! My arms are moving so fast!  I'm so fast at running! Look at me go!"  And then they would yell again "You MALL WALKERS!  Move your feet!  Get out of my mud! What are you doing still in my mud!?"  And then we laughed and moved as slow as we pleased.

Before.
As in, before we were forever changed by the mud.
Before we knew what it was to be truly filthy.
Before we went to where there is no coming back from.

Obviously, this is the after photo.
My contact was rolled up in my brain at this point.
Our socks will never be pink & white ever again.
Each of us is bleeding at the knees here.

Apparently, I have a problem with being told what to do.  The weird part is, I'm a great listener.  Just ask my Moms.  She said I was (and I quote) "a joy to raise" (endquote).  Tell me what to do, and I do it.  Its even been at the point where I'm trying to stay on a healthy eating kick, and I ask Handsome "Tell me not to eat these chips" and then he says "Don't eat those chips" and then I don't.  Because I'm a good listener.  

Sometimes.

Things That Are Not: Running Music

So, apparently, I got my hands on some heavy-grade narcotics a while back.  I don't remember it happening, but I know it must have, because I have playlists set on my Zune that only a person under the influence would put together.

Let's have a show and tell.

Example I:



I love this song for running.  The pace is right for me, the words are fun to try and say.  Running Music.

On epiphanies and reminiscing

Its true.  I've got things to do.  Like, mad stuff to do.  And thats "mad" as in "lots and big and important, too", not "mad" as in Crazy Harry or "mad" as in Angry Birds.  Like, LOTS.

But I'm not really feeling the pull of those things, as much as I am feeling the need to share with  you!  I'm drinking coffee mocha my own version of what "mocha" should be, which is 1/2 hot chocolate, 1/2 coffee.  Yum.  So its as though we're having coffee together!  Hello friend!  How are you doing?

Today I'm thinking about yesterday, which I suppose is common enough.  Yesterday evening, Dukas and I went for a yog, in the evening during a lull in the rainstorm.  It felt... good.  Now, there's a pause there because running has never felt good to me before.  Lets discuss my years in high school track, as an overview, shall we?

I was never a real runner, although I have this sweatshirt that seems to disagree.  

ASIDE: I don't think I'm actually supposed to have this sweatshirt, as we were a poor school and weren't allowed to keep things like this.  However, my aunt who went to the same high school as I did a ... few years previous to my attendance stole this when she was in track, and she gave it to me.  So the school never technically issued it to me... I don't know, its a moral dilemma every time I get it out to wear it.  Whew.  Thanks for hearing me out.