Lapierre

Refusing the iBert bike seat

Diabetes, Running, Training

Oh man, the laughter that shot out of me the other night, I swear it shook the building! It was the night of my last blog post. I had been walking around for days giggling manically; Big Ring knew something was up and was a little, dare I say, frightened. After posting my blog, I refused to leave his side until he read it. At first I waited patiently, but for some reason the guy was not interested in his computer, he was more interested in the real estate porn on the TV. I thought I was gonna pee my pants, I’d been waiting so long, but there was no way I was gonna leave the room and have him read it without me seeing his reaction! After what seemed like forever, he finally shuffled over to his computer, and started clicking on his million or so bookmarks. As soon […]

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Running with BOB

Uncategorized

Dear BOB, I’m really not sure how much longer this relationship of ours will last. I had had such high hopes for our running friendship months before we were even introduced, but my gawd, practically every time we meet you terribly disappoint. Shall we start with your blatant rotundness dear pal? I don’t know who you’re trying to kid here, it doesn’t matter how much of that “slimming” dark blue you try to camouflage yourself with, it is so painfully obvious you need to lose weight. A lot of weight! I mean, seriously, you told me you had a lean frame, you told me you were light as a feather, you told me you were so fit, you could run like the Kenyans, but the second I saw you, I knew you were lying, I knew you were nothing more than a oaf that’s been planted in front of the

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Boulevard of broken dreams

Diabetes, Races, Running

Dear Marathon, You and me, we are so over. And let me be clear on this, it was you, not me that ruined this relationship. Yes, yes, I know I was the one who sought you out, who longed for your elusive, bad boy ways, but I’ve done you twice now, and both times you kind of sucked ass. I mean seriously, did you really think we were going to last when you repeatedly punched me in the gut for 20 straight kilometres, and joyously cackled when my legs seized up at 30 kms, and laughed at my blister-clad feet, and taunted me with every shaky step I took. Really? Yeah, no. And don’t you try to come crawling back to me with your gold trinkets, because it won’t work, I’m done, I’m moving on … with your half cousin! Who’s laughing now jerk face? Sincerely, Princess RUN FOR WATER

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