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From the flames of hell

Uncategorized

June 29, 2013 Cook’s Country June/July issue Grilled Chicken Leg Quarters/Grilled Jalapeño and Lime Shrimp Skewers/Grilled Red Potato Skewers Cooking for Assholes, you poisonous jerk, calling me a sissy if I put on rubber gloves to chop those jalapeños, you knew, I know you knew, that by saying that, it would be a sufficient enough challenge for me NOT to put those gloves on, and you were right, yep, right as could be. And me, I suffered, ohhhh did I suffer. It didn’t happen instantly, nope, it was about an hour or so later when an itch in my eyes had me rubbing, and suddenly, HOLY FREAKING MOTHER OF GOD!!! BURN!!! MY EYES ARE BURNING!!! MY HANDS ARE BURNING!!! MY MOUTH IS BURNING!!! STOP! STOP! STOP! ********************************************************************** June’s cooking challenge came down to the crunch. The month flew by and before I knew it, I had just one day to […]

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Living in speed hell

Running, Training, Uncategorized

In the midst of Monday’s speed intervals, these were the thoughts formulating in my head: 800 metres? At this pace? Are you freaking kidding me? Holy freaking crud monkey, I can’t breathe! I think I’m having a heart attack! Ohmygawd, alert the authorities, I think Coach NZ is trying to kill me! Why did I not pack along water??? This week’s speed training had me running 4 sets of 400 metres fast/90 seconds easy/800 metres fast/90 seconds easy and repeat at a 4:30 min/km pace. For those of you who’ve been following me for awhile, you know that while I very much want to be faster in my running, I absolutely loathe speed training. And so, when I saw 800 metres on the schedule, I had serious thoughts of skipping it. But then, that stupid little smug angel on my shoulder reminded me of just how guilty I’d feel if

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Cycling in America

Training, Uncategorized

Not long after crossing the border, with my lactic-acid filled legs pushing Holly Goquickly’s pedals, classic American anthem style music began to fill my ears. Not full songs, just blips; it was as though my mind was switching stations until it found the perfect tune. Born In the USA… nope. Jack and Diane… nope. Don’t Stop Believin’… ohhh yeah. “Just a small town girl, livin’ in a cycling world…” 😀 So last week Big Ring started his annual Tour de France holidays where he spends two weeks waking up super early to watch the Tour live (because apparently watching it on the PVR isn’t the same) and then getting on his bike for hours and hours after. And on Saturday, thanks to my super awesome parents for looking after Little Ring, the two of us, and our respective lovelies, hit the roads together. We debated riding through the familiarity of

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Running: to infinity and beyond!

Diabetes, Running, Training, Uncategorized

This past Friday I ran 70 minutes, which a year and a half ago wouldn’t have been a huge deal, but now, it’s a milestone – not because of the time, but because of the distance. After what has seemed like eons, I have finally reached that point in my training where I am once again surpassing the 10 km marker. Wahoo! But the fact I was running longer than an hour, in temperatures way hotter than previous long runs, presented a few new challenges. I couldn’t just rely on a swig of water and a couple shot bloks; sufficient fuel and hydration were required. That meant the ol’ fuel belt came out of storage. Now, I don’t remember having a huge problem running with the fuel belt in the past, yeah it gave me elbow bruises, but I was able to live with that. Well, Friday, I was none to

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Some days…

Diabetes, Running, Uncategorized

Some days, the last thing you want to do is pull yourself out of bed when the 5 a.m. alarm shrieks from across the room. Some days, the hardest thing is squeezing into your sports bra, putting on your shorts, and lacing up your sneakers. Some days, the thought of a 35-minute tempo run feels as though a marathon was looking back at you. Some days was today. When the alarm sounded, I was dead to the world. My eyes were stuck shut, my body felt as though it was the mass of 5,000 tonnes and my head as though it had vice grips securing it to my pillow. The thought of a tempo run was not at all welcomed. I dragged my sorry self out of bed. I trudged to the washroom with my clothes and gear. I soft stepped down the stairs (no waking Little Ring allowed!). I

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