Sugar does not enjoy the pet carrier. I mean, I totally get it. What living thing enjoys being shoved into a crate and carted around to who the heck knows where but it’s probably not anywhere good or fun, but still. Sugar FUHreaks out. Like demonic. Like he needs an exorcist. Good times, [...]]]>

Sugar does not enjoy the pet carrier. I mean, I totally get it. What living thing enjoys being shoved into a crate and carted around to who the heck knows where but it’s probably not anywhere good or fun, but still. Sugar FUHreaks out. Like demonic. Like he needs an exorcist. Good times, great oldies.

After our Thanksgiving debacle in the car, I was relunctant to stick him in the carrier again.

Oh, what debacle, you ask? Well, having had the cat for a few weeks, I felt bad about leaving him for 10 days at the house during Thanksgiving break, where The Kid and I would be in Nebraska. I did my homework, asking cat owners I know, and EVERYONE said 1. it was a fine idea to take the new cat on an eight hour car trip 2. he would only yowl for maybe the first 30 to 60 minutes and then he would settle down.

They lied.

Or at least they had no idea what this cat was capable of. I didn’t. Sugar morphed from sweetheart to psychopath before we even left Boulder County. Every hour, it got worse. I had flashbacks of when The Kid as an infant would howl in her carseat and how I felt like having a nervous breakdown. This, I might say, was worse. There was no pacifier or Dora the Explorer to soothe the distressed creature in the backseat. I moved the carrier up to the front after Hour 4 because I was worried the cat would somehow go Kitty Cujo on The Kid’s arm if she got to close. And Hour 5, Sugar got one of his paws through the carrier door and DRAGGED HIS CLAWS across the shifter of my car where marks remain to this day. At Hour 7, he rolled over on his back, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he fell silent; I was convinced he had died from stress. But as we entered the city limits of Lincoln, he resurrected with yowls, spitting, hissing and banging his body on all sides of the carrier. And once he was let out, he was fine. I, however, was not.

As you can imagine, I was reluctant to put him back in the pet carrier, but I wanted to take him to a groomers. My cat people friends as well as the humane society said it would help with the allergens, and I’m all about preventative care. So once again we tricked Sugar into the carrier and as we hauled him out to the car, the yowling and pawing against the carrier floor begain.

Oh my.

Luckily this drive was a mere 15 minutes from the house. And off Sugar went to the groomers, and I went to work. Fast forward a few hours, and Sugar is all pretty and ready to go home. I then got a phone call about The Kid – she was all fevery at school and needed to go home. So I swung by and got The Kid and we arrived at the groomers, where a lovely woman grabbed the scruff of my relunctant yet fluffy cat and stuffed him into the carrier.

More yowling. I stuck both The Kid and cat into the backseat. The Kid tried to comfort our distressed pet with the following words of encouragement:

WHO’S A TOUGH PUSSY?
WHO’S A TOUGH PUSSY?
WHO’S THE TOUGHEST PUSSY I KNOW?

I think my ears began to bleed. Immediately I remember a time when The Kid, who often likes to pretend she is a pet or wild animal, and I are shopping and she decides that on this particular trip she is going to be a jaguar … ‘Jina (as in vajayjay) the Jaguar. Oh my. Um, I suggest, how about Jewel the Jaguar? Or Joyce? Or Jeebus Christo already, just not ‘Jina, for the love of gawd? Oh no, she insisted, her name was ‘JINA, in a voice loud enough that I’m pretty sure everyone in the Lego section of the Longmont Super Target heard. I finally had to look her in the eyes and whisper HEY, that is a word that means THIS to some people, so don’t say that again. I think we were both horrified.

I wasn’t ready for another teachable moment about slang for girly bits. I blamed the movie Puss in Boots. I blamed Mother Goose. I blamed disgusting people who changed the meaning of a harmless word into fratboy lingo. The drive was only 15 minutes long, but hearing your sweet child say such a thing on repeat is difficult to ignore for even a few seconds.

HEY, I finally spoke up trying to be nonchalant. You have to say pussy CAT, pussy CAT. Got it?

OK, MOM. (turns to yowling cat)
WHO’S A TOUGH PUSSY … CAT?
WHO’S A TOUGH PUSSY … CAT?
WHO’S MY FAVORITE PUSSY … CAT?

Hmm, I should have been more specific. Parenting fail …. or blog fodder win?

And … we’re off! The Quaker Oatmeal 5k in Lafayette was a nice little event. A good way to kick off my goal of running a 5k every month in 2012. I was super nervous because this 5k would set the baseline for the other 5ks to come this year. I honestly didn’t [...]]]>

And … we’re off! The Quaker Oatmeal 5k in Lafayette was a nice little event. A good way to kick off my goal of running a 5k every month in 2012. I was super nervous because this 5k would set the baseline for the other 5ks to come this year. I honestly didn’t know how I would do. I was battling the sniffles, but overall felt good. I was ready to get this over with already do this.

I had friends who joined me in the cause and a cheerleader waiting for me at the finish line. You guys rock. I always feel really self conscious while running anyways, and so to have an audience left me feeling a little vulnerable and insecure at first. But soon I got over myself, thank goodness, because an audience means you have people who support you. Whoa … I have supporters! Must remember that.

I also had a source of inspiration in the crowd (1300+ participated). A woman in front of me had on a T-shirt, the back of it which said:

I’m Slow.
I Know.
Get Over It.

Just what I needed. Thank you, Universe.

I admired her moxie. I decided to keep pace with her. I was OK being slower than the woman with the Slow T-shirt. Eventually, I left my friend Patricia’s side and boogied on ahead to keep up with the woman. The first mile is always the worst for me. A million reasons to stop running flood my brain. I’m not good at pushing myself out of my comfort zone, so I try to find someone else to keep up with while running. The woman with the T-shirt was it; I never saw her face, just focused on the T-shirt slogan and repeated it to myself when thins got sucky. At one point, though, right in the final mile, after a slow and gradual hill, she stopped to walk … NOOOOOOOOOO, I thought, keep going, we got this thing! . But I also understood and kept running without her. I hoped to tell her thank you at the finish line for inspiring me, but I didn’t see her. So here you go: Thank you, woman with the Slow T-shirt, for getting me through my first 5k of 2012.

THE RUN DOWN (yay for puns!)

WEATHER: Near perfect, if you ask me. In the 40s, sunny, and no wind.

WHAT I WORE: my new Athelta pants thanks to a gift card from FGM, a dri-fit tank, a thrift store tee, a red long sleeve dri-fit shirt, sunglasses, dri-fit socks from C9 Target and my running shoes.

YAYS: Water stations at the beginning and at the 2k point. Water, bananas, Gatorade and free goodie bag at the end. Volunteers cheering us on and telling us how far along we were on during the event. Adorably awkward Quaker Oatmeal costumed guy. Free oatmeal breakfast. Entrance fee of only $17 (if you skip the T-shirt). Fun family event. Friendly for those with strollers and dogs, though as a runner without either, it was a bit of an obstacle course in the beginning!

NAYS: The crosswalk situation at this event between the port-a-potties and the registration area/starting line was a little less than convenient but hey, whatcha going to do? Safety first, yo. The line for the free oatmeal breakfast afterwards went outside the school, down the sidewalk, and around the block, so we bailed. Maybe next year! (I heard they had bacon as an oatmeal topping.) Apparently, I also stepped in dog dookie during the 5k (one point near the end there was doggie landmines all over the street and I tried my best to avoid them but I guess I didn’t. Note: There is a special place in hell for dog owners who do not pick up after their pets). Also, I forgot to use my RunKeeper app on my iPhone to help measure my pace during the race, etc., oh well #firstworldproblem,  and for some reason my Pandora app wasn’t working the first mile or so (I used the Breathe Caroline station). Next time, I think I will have to borrow The Kid’s iShuffle for lighter, less complicated music selection. Will take music suggestions for race!

RESULTS

I placed 613th out of 1348 finishers in a time of 32:38 for a pace of 10:31 per mile.

Chip time was 31:49.

Out of 799 women I finished 292nd. The winning time for women was 17:33.

For 30 to 34 year old women I was 41st out of 96 finishers. The winning time for my age and sex was 19:10.

Full results are posted at: http://boulderroadrunners.org/results/index.html

and at Active.com: http://results.active.com/pages/page.jsp?eventID=1999254&pubID=3

Overall, not too shabby! My friends were impressed at least, ha. Went home, ate my favorite Indian food and watched My Idiot Brother. Perhaps a post 5k tradition — yummy food and a silly movie? Now I know what time I have to beat. Can’t tell yet if I am excited or scared. Wish me luck.

Next: CU Triathlon Team Frozen Foot 5k on February 19.

How are you doing with your goals so far in 2012?

Part Three: Found Things is a Des Moines treasure trove. The two level store very much reminded me of my local favorite, Serendipity, where there were items, furniture and clothing crammed into every corner that would make me gasp [...]]]>

Part Three: Found Things is a Des Moines treasure trove. The two level store very much reminded me of my local favorite, Serendipity, where there were items, furniture and clothing crammed into every corner that would make me gasp with delight. I could probably spend hours here inspecting everything. One of my dream jobs, like if or when I ever win the lottery or find that sugar daddy, is to have a shop like this and be a “finder” of awesome vintage and one-of-a-kind things.  Just looking at these photos from my November trip there makes me eager to return to the Midwest. Hurry, hurry, summertime!  Next time, I promise to bring moolah.

Read about the two other shops we visited, Porch Light and Domestica.

Part Two: Domestica is this cool shop in Des Moines that not only has cool stuff like adorable and edgey posters, funky jewelry and other cute handmade and homemade wanty wants, but the shop also is [...]]]>

Part Two: Domestica is this cool shop in Des Moines that not only has cool stuff like adorable and edgey posters, funky jewelry and other cute handmade and homemade wanty wants, but the shop also is active and engaging on the social media (here’s their blog and Tumblr and Twitter and Facebook and Pinterest), which I of course can appreciate.

I’ve briefly mentioned Domestica before because of cool calendars like this one and I am a HUGE paper nerd. Love me some paper products, be they note cards, posters, maps, cards, you name it. I want my living room to look like the inside of Domestica —- framed posters of music acts and epiphanies, dandelion chandeliers, bright playful pillows, kid stuff that didn’t come from Gymboree. Then Pinterest interviewed shop owner Chrissy Jensen and featured Domestica on the Pinterest blog — whoa! Gotta love when the stuff I love is noticed by the big kahunas. And the shop deserves it.

I love what Chrissy told Pinterest when they asked her about being an (almost) native Iowan (which I like to think I can relate to that Midwestern spirit thanks to my years in Nebraska):

I think being in the middle geographically has an affect on Iowans’ sensibilities. Iowans are some of the most traveled, most politically savvy, most culturally checked in people I’ve met. Even in the smallest towns, people are checked into what’s going on in the world. They’re definitely more conservative in smaller towns, but I think being farmers/landowners gives them a sense of the value of individual freedom.

Note to self: Time next trip to Des Moines with payday so I can come home with some loot. Thanks again to Jillian Frances who played gracious tour guide that day in November and to The Kid for being somewhat patient walking around downtown Des Moines to only grown-up stores. Someday soon, she will appreciate cool places like these as much as I do.

In case you missed it, we also visited a cool shop right next door called Porch Light. Stay tuned for next week’s final Iowa Is Cooler Than You Think Post!

The other day I was craving spaghetti with meat sauce. Comfort food, if you will.

While I myself am not Italian, I was raised around many great Italians whose moms and nanas make a good sauce. That’s hard to find in the West.

Luckily, my gal pal Jenn Fields, whom in my head [...]]]>

The other day I was craving spaghetti with meat sauce. Comfort food, if you will.

While I myself am not Italian, I was raised around many great Italians whose moms and nanas make a good sauce. That’s hard to find in the West.

Luckily, my gal pal Jenn Fields, whom in my head I still call Freelancer Jenn (even though she is gainfully employed in one of the coolest reporting jobs out there), makes a great sauce, too (though no clue if she’s Italian) that’s actually kind of healthy and easy peasy. I can honestly say I get a hankering for it time and again. And while I love dinners at Chez Fields, sometimes a girl needs a yummy bowl of pasta with meat sauce to stick to her ribs during the winter.

NOM NOM NOM MEAT SAUCE

1 pound of bison
1 jar of canned spaghetti sauce
1 can of diced tomatoes
1-2 winter squash sliced up (I used a bag of frozen sliced green and yellow squash)

Throw it all in a pot and let it simmer until you’re ready to plate up. Nom nom nom. It’s a thick and chunky sauce and you can double it, too. It freezes well. I like mine over gluten-free pasta (I am a fan of the Ancient Harvest quinoa pastas, namely the Veggie Curls, the Pagodas, and Linguine). I’ve used leftover sauce on naan topped with cheese for poor girl’s pizza.

Mangia!

Jumbo in the summer for s’mores. Mini in the winter for cups of hot cocoa. Lotsa ‘em.

I think I might have a hot cocoa addiction. The Grey Plume in Omaha has amazing hot cocoa, with nutmeg and cocoa nibs. Trader Joe’s Sipping Chocolate is also very decadent.  

What gets you through [...]]]>

Jumbo in the summer for s’mores. Mini in the winter for cups of hot cocoa. Lotsa ‘em.

I think I might have a hot cocoa addiction. The Grey Plume in Omaha has amazing hot cocoa, with nutmeg and cocoa nibs. Trader Joe’s Sipping Chocolate is also very decadent.  

What gets you through winter?

One morning as The Kid poured herself some cereal, she said to no one in particular:

I LIKE LIFE WITH A CAT.

I do, too. Surprisingly. I hoped at best that Sugar the impulsively adopted cat from the Longmont Humane Society would adore The Kid and be something cute for me to look [...]]]>

One morning as The Kid poured herself some cereal, she said to no one in particular:

I LIKE LIFE WITH A CAT.

I do, too. Surprisingly. I hoped at best that Sugar the impulsively adopted cat from the Longmont Humane Society would adore The Kid and be something cute for me to look at from afar. Instead the cat adores me and thinks of The Kid as a big play thing like a feather cat dancer or catnip mouse. Zyrtec has worked wonders, allowing me to actually pet my pet and not die.

Confession: It feels strange to run my palm across his furry little body, as I had not actually touched a cat or any animal like that in about 20 years. Imagine having the faintest tactile memories of water or sand. Yea it’s like that.

Only one morning when I awoke to the alarming sounds of a cat puking up a hairball on my bed (and then after huffing down his food, puking up cat food on multiple carpeted stairs and the wall (?!?), under the guest bed and under the dining table) did it hit me like a ton of bricks that I have another creature besides The Kid who isn’t just cute but needs me to take care of them and make them feel better when they don’t feel good (and that costs money).

As The Kid would say: HOLY SH*TZ. 

His white little body reminds me more of a magician’s rabbit than elegant purebred. Remember when I said he wouldn’t sleep in my bed? Sugar curls up right next to me and would sleep on my face if allowed. He puts one or both paws stretched out in my direction and is often jealous of my laptop and iPhone and has been known to place his paw on one of those as well while I tickety tack or Pin away the night’s insomnia. He loves when I rub the pink pads of his paw. I love his inkspots on his pink nose, or as The Kid calls them, freckles.

He chases his own tail often, which is adorable and led me to take my first ever cute cat video, and he loves to decimate toy mice, their faux furry bodies torn to shreds about the house, their innards never to be found again, leaving me to realize this sweetheart is also a vicious killer (who is prone to love bites — jerk). I’ve caught him drinking out of the toilet multiple times, and now we have to remember to keep the lid down because it dawned on me, too, that he likes to wake me up in the morning my walking on my body and nosing me in the face. Trying not to think about it …

He’s got a favorite sleeping spot during the day (on a giant pillow on top of a living room chair right in front of a window) and a favorite sleeping place at night (me). He catches the bugs and dust bunnies of the house. He thinks the living room is an obstacle course. But he is a clumsy guy and has been known to fall down the stairs when he misses a step or in attempts to jump up on my lap or the back of the couch, totally biffs it. At Christmas he got tangled in a plastic shopping bag and raced around making so much noise as if a pack of wild horses were inside my house until I was able to rescue him from under a bed and free him from the Bag Monster. Cat probably needs therapy, but heck so do I.

I knew I wanted to adopt an adult cat. What I didn’t expect was all the wondering about his life before us. I mean, he was a 5 yo kitty brought in as a stray, and the shelter had to neuter him and microchip him. Five years is a long time. Why wasn’t any of that done before? Did he get lost? Was he abandoned? Did he escape from a breeder? Who brought him to the shelter? What part of town did the person find him? Is he really someone’s cat from Florida and he traveled thousands of miles to Colorado and they’re desperately looking for him right now?  The journalist side of me is DYING to know.

So what makes your pet special? If your pet is an older adopted animal, do you ever wonder about their life before you, too?

This is a shop called Porch Light, located in the Historic East Village area of downtown Des Moines, Iowa. I’m a huge fan of businesses like this, so mad props to high school friend and fellow NEPA chick loving [...]]]>

This is a shop called Porch Light, located in the Historic East Village area of downtown Des Moines, Iowa. I’m a huge fan of businesses like this, so mad props to high school friend and fellow NEPA chick loving life in the Midwest, Jillian Frances (check out her blog as she studies interior design and her etsy shop for pretty jewelry), for showing me around back in November. Porch Light was just one of a few shops we visited, and I plan to share photos from those as well. I very much look forward to returning to Des Moines (maybe this summer?), which is something I never expected to say about Iowa. What can I say? I was raised in NEPA, but my heart belongs to Middle America.

I know when I like something when I can’t stop thinking about it. Well, I went on an imprompu trip to Iowa right before Thanksgiving and two months later I am STILL coveting/wishing I had bought that No. 4 and No. 3 signage from Porch Light (it’s kind of my number, you see). My heart sang out when I saw it, which is why places like Porch Light are all kinds of awesome.

Was there ever a place that pleasantly surprised you?

source

Event: Lafayette Quaker Oatmeal Festival and 5k Walk/Run Date: Saturday, January 14, 2012

I chose to run this 5k because, well, I’ve heard about it before. [...]]]> In 2012, I’ve decided to run a 5k every month in pursuit of simply a faster 5k. No big deal.  

source

Event: Lafayette Quaker Oatmeal Festival and 5k Walk/Run
Date: Saturday, January 14, 2012

I chose to run this 5k because, well, I’ve heard about it before. Lafayette, like Longmont, is another little Boulder County town close to The Bubble (but for some reason seems to get way more respect than little ole Longmont). The date (not to mention the price) fit well with me, too: Two weeks after the gluttony of the holidays and two weeks right before I have to get four wisdom teeth pulled (which will make training for February’s 5k very awful interesting. Stay tuned.). And who doesn’t love a community event? Even if it is about oatmeal. (Disclosure: I’m not a hater, I LOVE oatmeal, even though some people I know make gagging sounds when I mention it.)

As long as the weather stays above or around freezing, I think I will do OK as I am finding that I run better in the chill because I run hot. Still trying to figure out the layering of clothes ratio as well as hat/gloves, because after a mile in, all I want to do is leave a trail of clothes in my wake. I also tapped  Heather, known on the internetz as Dietitian on the Run, for advice. Her blog is fab for vegetarian recipes (her job is all about healthy eats, yo) and running races, so check her out. I feel like I have my own Mr. Miyagi now in my corner, except Heather is young and beautiful and lives too far away now for me to wax on, wax off. But I would, if it helped me run a faster 5k, dammit.

Want to join me, either in person or in spirit (is there a 5k in your area that we can cheer you on from afar)? Let me know. And if there is a 5k I should check out for 2012 (have running shoes, will travel), drop me the info. LET’S DO THIS THING.

Calendar from Domestica, a very cool shop in Des Moines, Iowa

How do you feel about New Year’s Resolutions?

During the last few years, I didn’t make resolutions; I made to-do lists. And I’ve kicked each one off on my birthday in April ever since my 30th year on God’s [...]]]>

Calendar from Domestica, a very cool shop in Des Moines, Iowa

How do you feel about New Year’s Resolutions?

During the last few years, I didn’t make resolutions; I made to-do lists. And I’ve kicked each one off on my birthday in April ever since my 30th year on God’s green earth. However, for whatever reason, 2012 just very much appeals to me and I have some things in mind I’d like to get started on right away. I’m excited. This is unusual.

I have a lofty goal for 2012: I want to will run a 5k every month in 2012. That’s a dozen 5k events. That’s, uh, math is hard 60+ miles. The point: to run a faster 5k by the end of the year by running 5ks regularly. To run a faster 5k than the last one I ran. To run a faster 5k, period. Join me if you’d like, either in person or in spirit.

Confession: I am really, really slow. That’s ok. It’s gotta be. I’m still going to do this.

I also signed up for the Lincoln Half Marathon in early May. And I have free admittance to the Bolder Boulder in late May because I volunteered at a trail race in the fall. What the what is going on, you ask? I’ve never run more than 5 miles at one time in my life, so the idea of running at all, let alone 13.1 miles (that’s about the length of my commute from my house in Longmont to work in Boulder) or a 10k is unfathomable to me. Friends who love me say I can do it, so I am trying to believe in them believing in me. Hence, the 12 5ks in 2012 …

They will keep me on track I hope. My journalism background has me trained to hit deadlines. I needed deadlines for running to keep active, to keep going to the gym, to never stop no matter how slow I am going because the point is to finish. There are plenty of training programs online that tell me what to do to be able to finish a 5k (have fun, don’t die — them’s my rules). I also have support through friends, in real life and online. I will need it.

I’m not a natural talent like some people I know. I often feel like this. But I like crossing the finish line. I like using the body given to me and putting it in motion (because I know one day I won’t be able to). And if by chance all this running makes me smokin’ hot healthy and strong in the process (though I’m pretty sure running doesn’t give one better ta-tahs, sadly), then so be it.

What do you hope to do in 2012? This running business is one of many things on The List for 2012.