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Ahhh the sweet smells of baking, one of the best scents in the world. As I sit here typing this entry, the smell of fresh tarts is wafting all through my condo, and is hovering most noticeably right under my nose. I love baking, but I’ve always been the kind of baker who, uhm, doesn’t exactly have much patience. Although, after going green in the face and sour in the belly a few too many times, I no longer lick the mixing spoons, or full on eat chunks of raw cookie dough. But now, I’m like a five-year-old next to her easy bake oven peering through the glass, watching it rise, watching it bake, drool dripping… We’ve got a group of friends coming for dinner tomorrow, two of which traveled all the way from New York just to see us (okay, maybe not just us). So I decided to put […]

It’s days like today that I love my job and couldn’t imagine doing anything else. I mean, seriously, what other job lets you bomb around on your bike all afternoon – and actually calls it work? For the past two years, Slow Food Vancouver has hosted a Slow Food Cycle Tour in Chilliwack, and I figured, seeing as how it’s fast approaching, I’d do an advancer story to let people know all about it. But rather than just call the organizers up on the phone (what fun could there possibly be in doing that?) I figured I’d ride around for a first-hand experience. But who wants to ride alone, right? Not me. Nope. No way. And seeing as how today just so happened to be Mario’s day off, it was kismet he join me 😀 Slow Food Vancouver, which puts on these events all throughout B.C., is a non-profit organization that

I’m seriously considering changing my name, just slightly, nothing too major. I mean I do love my name, but I’m thinking it needs a touch of oomph added to it, something along the lines of Super Katie! said in exactly the same way as Super Grover says his name. It’s a worthy name I think, I do have super powers after all – I mean, I am the conquerer of all hills! So what do you guys think? 😀 I know I’ve said it before, but given that last night was the start of hill training, I feel compelled to say it again. I LOVE HILLS! And I know I’m a bit of an anomaly, most people hate hills, and rightfully so. They’re fricken hard, they force every ounce of oxygen out of your lungs, have you huffing and puffing, like you’d been smoking five packs a day for 30 straight

Man was I ever feeling like crud the last few days, and I was debating whether or not to blog about it as it is a bit of a sensitive subject, but given that it’s a running-induced sensitive subject, blogging I shall do. But first, I must warn all you non-runners, and all you with the squeamish little bellies, and all of you who are easily grossed out, stop reading now. If you continue, you are too blame. I take no fault for any accidental upchucking or cringe-induced wrinkles or nightmares that may result from what lies below. This condition I am about to discuss is a condition that no runner likes to talk about, and likes even less to experience. Are you ready for it? Okay, here you go: Runner’s Diarrhea, also known as the trots, poopy pants, sore bum, and ohmygawd find me a toilet now, even a

I practically ran to Timbuktu yesterday … okay, maybe not Timbuktu, but it might as well have been. I mean 23 km is practically around the world and back isn’t it? That’s right 23 km – my longest run ever! And I’m not gonna sugarcoat it; it was fricken tough. At about 17 kms, I was seriously re-evaluating my sanity. My calves were fatigued, my thighs were throbbing, my hip was … well … it was kind of screaming. But all that was nothing compared to what was going on in my head: Math. For those of you who don’t know, I’m not exactly one to go out of my way to do math, but when you’ve already been running for close to two hours, your formerly sweet little head starts doing nasty little things like math equations. I’ve got how many more kilometres to go? Six? Are you kidding me?