Sweet Things About This Blog

As I was reading Jules' last post, I realized there are several sweet things about this blog:

1) We update it less than once a month.

2) We have 3 followers

3) Those 3 followers are actually people we blog about, which means, they end up reading about something they already did...a month later.

For example- we always blog about how we never blog. Which, as our readers, you already know. Its like we needed to remind you in case you thought there was something wrong with your RSS feed. There isn't.

So, Im breaking the trend and blogging about something is has yet to happen! Its an announcement that only 33% of our reader base already knows about. For the rest of you, this is as good as the blog will ever get. Well this, and when Julia posts about Christmas geese.

And, since this blog has a running bend, I thought it would be apropo to announce that Drew and I are doing a half marathon in San Francisco in two weeks. Neither of us ever run. Not fair. We run about as often as I blog. So, while Julia worried about snow impacting her training plan, I worry about the fact that I don't even have a training plan. But, we got 50% off the entry fee- so we decided that the savings was more important than the training. I love deals.

On an unrelated note, whenever I think about having to run the race- the Space Jams theme song ("welcome to the space jam...") starts playing in my head. Bodes well...

Congrats on completing your half. Please do not put a 13.1 sticker on your car.

We couldn't be friends then.

Sarah

And we're back!

Greetings to my many (read: 3-4) blog readers!

I know what you're thinking. "Silly Julia, thinking she could keep up with this blog thing".

I admit, I did fall off the horse a little bit. But, I'm back! Hooray!

Some of my loyal followers (read: 3-4) may remember that the Jaimester (read: Jaime from the beach) and I are going on a short (read: 13.1 miles) jaunt this weekend through Virginia Beach. Yes, it's true, the day of the Virginia Beach Shamrock and Roll Yuengling Free Beer Run not Walk Half Marathon is finally upon us. And I'm excited!

Some of you may have noticed that Baltimurder received a slight snow shower in February, and, I'll admit, it took a toll on my running. Not a lover of the treadmill (dangerous and tricky when an iPod is involved), I chose the sit-on-the-couch-and-watch-office-reruns-and-drink-wine option instead. Please note I chose wine instead of beer. Health benefits. Almost as many health benefits as Hobbs and her pita chips.

Jaime and I ran a 14k race in Virginia beach over Valentine's day weekend, which was splendid and served two purposes:

1. Free beer.

2. To remind us that, yes, we were physically capable of running 14 kilometers (~9 miles).

This is Schooner, Scotty's race-watching buddy. He doesn't love sharing his car space with balloons though. (Free heart-shaped balloons that we got from the race because we are so awesome)

So while I'm still a little disappointed that Hobs won't be running with us this weekend, I'm still pretty excited.

Also, a shout out to my friend P. Riley, who ran a 2:31:28 marathon this weekend! Way to PR, PR!

Since I've done my running for the day, it seems that green-beer thirty is finally upon us.

Wish us luck this weekend!

Cheers!

I did not fall off a cliff

Although if I had fallen off a cliff, I could have used the excuse that I broke both of my arms and couldn't type which is why I wasn't blogging. But I made a new years resolution to cut back on lying, so I'll give you the truth. I was busy eating pizza.

In fact, given my recent exercise pattern, we may need to change the blog to, Jules Runs and Hobbs Sits. Its a longer URL though, and we could alienate our huge userbase, lose sponsors, etc etc, so we'll probably just keep it.

As Jules mentioned, Im not marathoning anymore which = zero motivation. Last week I ran for 20 minutes on Tuesday, which I promptly followed with a piece of cake and a coke zero. Water is for pussys.

However, this week I am turning over a new leaf (I have a feeling that will happen frequently throughout the life of this blog). Yesterday, my male companion (who the hell says 'male companion?) and I ran up this:

From the picture it looks like a little hill. But its not. Its really big. Or at least I hope its really big because we had to walk half of the run.

The real problem is I need a non virtual running partner. Of which San Francisco has few. So far I have found people who are willing to:

- swim in the bay

- walk on a treadmill

- attend rhythmic dance classes

None of these are appealing. And who exercises through rhythmic dance?

So until I find someone, my posts will probably continue to be an update on what Im not doing. We'll let jules handle the real content.

Kisses,
Sarah

Holiday Update and Hobbs' Epic Fail

Hello blog readers! All two of you! My apologies for not having written.

A few things to address here:

1. The holidays

2. Hobbs and her epic fail

3. Running

1. My visit to my great state was nothing short of amazing. Snow and merriment abounded. Also you will note there was a goose (as referred to in my prior post).

Goose is best seen here:

Hobbs and I, along with Hobbs' significant other and a few other folks, had a splendid New Year's Eve playing beirut. I had a less than great New Year's Day: I awoke with a headache that could have killed a horse, puked, put my slipper-clad foot into large snow bank (accidentally of course), and had to say so long to my pal Hobbs. Nonetheless it was a lovely trip.

2. Hobbs and her epic fail. So, a few months ago, I asked Hobbs to run this half marathon with me and my beach friend Jaime. She was like, "ABSOLUTELY. LET'S WRITE A BLOG." So she was on bored. And upon our glorious reunion in the best state ever, we ran. In the 5 degree weather. And she hated me for it. She even made me do yoga. For any of you "I'm moderately athletic and moderately in shape and so therefore yoga will be easy, and secretly I have always yoga was for lame, weak people" people out there (I may have been one of these people), you are so wrong. Really. So wrong. Yoga is actually the hardest thing ever. Really ever. I was incredibly sore for about a week. Additionally I was terrible at it. I'm sure Hobbs had a good laugh, since she is a goddamn yoga pro.

This is an actual photo of Hobbs doing yoga:

This is an actual photo of me doing yoga:

Anyways, yoga was tough. But I digress from the epic fail. Hobbs, despite our rigorous, cold weather training (not to mention the yoga and spinning), waited too long to register for the half marathon. So the registration is closed. Seriously folks. Could there be a more epic fail? Jesus.

3. Running. Despite Hobbs and her epic fail (I am in the process of forgiving her), my friend Jaime and I are still signed up to run the half. In March. It seems that the cold, and the dark, and the wind, and the fact that we both have to run alone, are our toughest obstacles. The other day I was running the the snot actually froze to my face. But, treadmills suck. So what to do? Gah. Keep running. Outside.

Off to finish the last of the eggnog! Cheers!

Julia Sucks.

It never gets cold in San Francisco. It gets chilly. Sometimes windy and chilly. Sometimes chilly and foggy- but cold isn't something it does. Which is perfect for running. You can wear pretty much anything from a grungy tank top to a full lulumelon spandex suit (which is the sf "jogging" standard issue inform. lame)

Guess where is cold? Fort Collins. Super fucking cold. And you know what cold equals? Cold equal cancel. Cancel running. Stay inside and eat some lasagna. Which I probably would have done were it not for two reasons:

1) My jeans are getting to that point where it is uncomfortable to do anything but stand.

2) Julia is a pain in my ass. More painful than sitting in my jeans- which is saying something.

So there was no canceling. There was running. Running with not enough clothing and below 0 wind chill. I wised up a little on day two and wore a hat and some really retarded looking wool socks, but it was still unpleasant.

Which is why tomorrow we are going to a gym. And indoor gym with heat. Where we can wear shorts and sweat our asses off. And you know who is going to hate this? Julia. You know who doesn't give a rats ass? Me.

See you indoors suckas.

Hobbs

Holiday Debacle(s)

Seasons Greetings to our many blog readers!

As most of you likely know, we here on the east coast have received about 2 feet of snow, which, of course, has rendered the whole east coast basically useless. Schools are closed, federal government workers have off, etc etc. I LOVE snow, but since this is a running blog I will address the running debacle first, followed by the holiday debacle.

Running debacle:

In Colorado (Fort Fun), they plow the trail when it snows. Seriously. They have these little, perfect trail-sized snow plows, that are most likely driven by some sort of elves. Why? Because exercise is a priority in my great state. Here however, that is not the case. I was hoping for a snow and ice free Rock Creek Trail this morning when I ventured out into the 30 degree weather. Instead I had to climb (literally) over mounds of snow and ice to get to the trail. Upon arriving at the trail I found that it had not been plowed at all. In fact, the two feet of snow was disturbed only by cross country ski tracks (most likely made by Hobbs' dad since he lives, sometimes, in the DC area). I was forced to return home, having only run (more like climbed/tried not to fall) about 25 minutes. Blurg.

Holiday Debacle:

Recently I was at the home of my significant other (yes, same individual who puked in my sink) when his mother commented that they were going to have a goose for Christmas dinner. Can you think of anything more Christmastime-y? No. There is no dish more appropriate for Christmas than a Christmas goose, other than serving it with a healthy glass of egg nog. Which is why I told significant other's mother that it was totally badass that she was making a goose for Christmas dinner.

Significant other's mother then e-mailed my mother (in Colorado) to ask if she would like a Christmas goose, and if so to let her know as she has reserved one at the local grocer. My mother, not an experienced goose-roaster, frantically left me a voicemail detailing this plan.

But, alas, the goose had already been purchased! So now the goose will be coming with me on the plane to Colorado. For Christmas. We, too, will have a Christmas goose. In Colorado.

The obvious debacle is: How does one take a 20lb frozen goose from Baltimurder to Denver via air travel? Some questions:

1. How much liquid does a goose contain? Is it more than the allowable amount for carry-on items? I think, yes, most likely.

2. If I pack the goose in my checked luggage, will my clothes smell like raw poultry juices?

3. I will be bringing two bags to check. Do I have some sort of moral obligation to separate the goose and the goose down vest I will also be bringing with me?

4. Will I feel embarrassed if forced to show some TSA personnel my Christmas goose?

And these are my holiday debacles.

**Please note we are still waiting to hear from Hobbs about her New Year's Eve running plans and ensuing party plans.**

Cheers!

Eggnog is gross

Eggnog is gross. To be honest, Im not even sure what it is. Its like egg and nog, which im assuming is some sort of terrible combination of heavy cream and hydrogenated something or another. There will be no nog drinking if I am arround. Which should eliminate the sink issue.

I stopped running. I went to New York, ran once (and by ran I mean stopped every 3 feet because there are so many fucking people in New York it is impossible to move) and then got sick. Yesterday, to make myself feel better I did 6 sit ups and then ate some pita chips. Sit ups= healthy. Pita chips= healthy. Healthy + healthy = run. At this rate, the race in March should go pretty well.

Here is what I have been thinking. I should wear running clothes more, because its the little things like "changing" that derail my running efforts. If I was always ready to run, I could be like ForrestGump an just take off on a whim. Then I would also have to be the loser who is always wearing running clothes. Its a toss up.

Kisses,
Hobbs