Vancouver seawall

“Holy freaking hell, I did it!!!!!!!”

Diabetes, Races, Running

Yesterday’s half marathon effort was a personal best in so many ways. Oh my goodness the pride and joy I am still feeling today; seriously, the endorphins are in major overdrive. Despite spending the last 15 weeks training for a half marathon, I wasn’t planning on running a half marathon. I was still pretty jaded from my last half effort, and had promised my body we’d concentrate more on conquering the 10k than the half… for awhile at least. But then the UBC run study happened. A study that, despite being targeted for “beginner” runners, had a killer training program that, not to gloat or anything, I was killing! How could I not see if the solid training would translate over to a solid race? So, two weeks ago I managed to secure a bib for the Vancouver First Half half marathon. Days leading up to the half I kept […]

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Running … with company

Diabetes, Running, Training

Full disclosure part 1: My training the last couple of weeks has fallen off the map. For the last 10 days, the Princess and the Rings have been entertaining Big Ring’s mom and niece from Onterrible; the first visit since Little Ring’s birth. In the weeks leading up to the visit, I thought for sure I’d keep up with my running and strength training. I had a well defined plan, and I was determined not to stray from it. But then, our guests arrived. Now, let me backtrack a moment. Big Ring and I are not well versed in the art of entertaining. Since purchasing our loft four years ago, we have hosted just ONE other couple, and that was long before Little Ring’s existence. Heck, I’m pretty sure we can count on two hands the number of times we’ve held dinners at our place. So really, we can’t be

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Claustrophobic, germaphobic, stranger spermaphobic

Diabetes, Running

Why is it when you don’t want something to happen, it always happens? Case in point: My current sun tan. I have never been a girl to lay for hours under the sun, or step foot in a tanning bed, or put orange blotchy creams on my skin to achieve the white girl, over-Brazilianed look. First of all, my self-diagnosed ADD wouldn’t ever allow me more than 3 minutes under the baking sun before I was jumping up, antsy to do something else; second of all, my claustrophobic, germaphobic, stranger spermaphobic (I’ve heard stories) would never allow me to get anywhere near a tanning bed; and third of all, the nuclear creams, did them once when I was 13 and had pumpkin-coloured hands for like a month after, no thank you! But most of all, I burn, and not a slight, light burn, a nasty, angry, beet red, sometimes eggplant

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Sloth in sneakers

Diabetes, Running

Okay, so maybe climbing the Grouse Grind, and drinking beer and eating decadent cheesecake the day before a long run wasn’t the smartest running decision made. The first 5 km felt like my body was twisted up into a million knots and it was not going to untwist kindly, oh no. I was struggling to maintain a constant pace, or even just a good pace, I was slow, oh man, was I ever slow. And my ankles and calves were so super tight, I was begging the running gods to take pity on me. And yet, I wouldn’t have changed a thing. That cheesecake, ohhhhh that decadent Princess-famed cheesecake, was worth every tight step endured. Loving the post-run stretch. After two and a quarter years of living in the loft, Mario and I finally had my brother, sister in law and three nephews over for dinner on Saturday. And because

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Beaten physically, mentally and near fatally

Running

So, do you think runners are like cats? Do we get nine lives too? After my last run I’m sure hoping so, because my one life is fast diminishing. Two weeks ago I was faced with a near miss as a pickup truck came screeching up behind my favourite running chick and I and proceeded to smash into a vehicle half a small condo distance away. Pretty scary right, but nothing compared to what happened to me on Saturday. At 25 km into my 29 km run, I was pretty beaten up physically and mentally, but I could still decipher between the walk signal and the bright red don’t-you-dare-cross-this-damn-street signal. So when I saw that hand, I waited, and waited, and waited. With my leg muscles flaring up and seizing, it felt like forever before that light changed, but being the good runner that I am, I waited. When finally

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