(crawling through) mud, barbed wire, pond water and drainage pipes is apparently more attractive to women than a 75% off sale at banana republic

i do not do 5k's. they hurt too much and are over before you can watch a complete episode of "hoarders", not to mention you barely burn off enough calories to accommodate the finish line bagel and half banana.



however, if race organizers plot a course at a ski resort, where you have to run up the 'soooo-not-a-nursery-slope', while snow guns blast you with 100 gallons of water per second, then i'm all about laying down some money for a bib number.



truthfully, i just wanted an opportunity to leave some of my ass cheek on the most enormous slip and slide down the mountain.



any remaining dermis was sloughed off in the spa portion of sunday river's tough mountain challenge.



allowing participants to feel revitalized and refreshed for that final sprint across the cargo net, to jump through a 'ring of fire' finish line.

"get a grip!"

was the terse instruction issued from 'my brother the pilot' in response to his sister's perseverative thoughts on airbus versus boeing disasters, shattering pelvises upon impacting the atlantic ocean, and how to break into a cockpit in order to administer CPR to an arresting crew member.

and so i did.



however, i don't know if the richter scale turbulence while transitioning from US to canadian airspace was quite as traumatic as the 45 minute connector's aisle side view of an ambulatory and verbal child, in possession of at least his incisors, latched to his mother's mammary. not a surprise then, to overhear that they were ultimately, seattle bound.

to keep the laws of crappy airline travel in perfect alignment, the return journey, while relatively turbulence (and therefore bruise) free, was equally trying. kennedy airport has obviously been laid out with the same design aplomb that you would expect from a 5 year old with a bucket of lego. and may also be the only employer that is currently over staffed, albeit with 28 year old soporific "teenagers" whose pace, and overall demeanour are clearly not congruent with even a low level customer service experience.

i got it!

forget "becoming a woman". i got my first "runner's bloody toenail".



well, quarter toenail. but it still counts.

i have the hand/eye co-ordination of a toddler on crack

it is evidence based best practice that stress relief is most effectively achieved by engaging in physically strenuous activities-- trying to be the first down the jetbridge when the pilot turns the 'fasten seat belt' sign off does not count. the utter god awfulness of last week earned a big, tarnished gold star, and a subsequent effort at reparation by: "engaging some positive coping strategies". the treatment protocol was determined to be; a long (and slow) mountain bike ride-- get back to nature, and see some non-rattling, non-poisonous, non-bitey wildlife; remain upright and vertical on the trail (as opposed to grabbing at bits of bush/twig/piles of horse manure to stop me + bike from sliding all the way down the drops); avoid faceplanting into super barky oak trees (and anything involving 'leaves of three'); burn off the "brookie" (brownie and chocolate chip cookie) a la mode; discharge all of the pent up physical aggression that i really, really wanted to inflict on police officers, credit card fraudsters, assorted colleagues, voice messaging systems, and customer service people who finally did answer my call, but didn't sound like it was all that important to them.

perhaps waverly park- or the 'trail of ten thousand elevations' (most of which seemed to disappear into cumulonimbus) was not the most prudent choice for; nerves, ego, or someone with the current frustration tolerance of a 5 year old having to sit through an entire catholic mass. instead of reclaiming control of at least one thing from the week, there was a cosmic scratch that kept this particular track on skip, as evidenced by minimal control (less than usual at any rate) over the bike, which probably had more to do with the discovery of loose rear brakes, on a steep and switchbacky downhill (despite the trail's overall topographical emphasis on ascending); non-compliance from both the respiratory and circulatory systems respectively; the sensation that a sewing machine had been strapped onto my camelbak; strange ticking noises coming from the mechanics and wilderness. the overwhelming frustration and complete lack of control was ultimately the neutralizing agent that finally popped the preceeding week's inflamed "stress pimple"-- and rather like a fresh tube of toothpaste, erupted into some moderate ocular leakage, with a side of mucous. fortunately there were no wasp stings to the neck as there had been during last weekend's foray into my own personal REI commercial.

the apres bike ride shower involved a rigourous skin check for: rorschach-looking haematoma, volcanic insect bites, and seeping rashes, in addition to the characteristic sunburn blisters and spandex chafe.

grafting and mining my skin's surface is truly the most effective of therapies.

little love bites

i really should know better than to bend over in a low cut blouse to give an excitable 3 year old a growling bear hug right before he heads off to lunch. apparently he thought my chest was a good place to take a bite out of.

he left teeth marks on my skin-- and there really isn't an awful lot of subcutaneous cleavage fat to clamp down on.

she pushed me!

having worked with emotionally and behaviorally disordered children/adults for 9 years, i really should know better. whether it's obeying the "15 items or less" rule (and no, "two for one" does not count as one of the fifteen), or pocketing all the blank tiles in scrabble; people do not always conduct themselves as they are "supposed" to.

flag football was initially presented to me as the 'non-violent/non-physical' alternative to the slow paced carnage that seems to be on every bloody tv channel; daily. however, during today's game i was shoved aside by one winsome wench only to be barreled into by another freight train of a female (aaah, more girls with something to prove). in stressful situations we all regress emotionally to a younger state; like 5.

i wanted to smack her across the face (with my strawberry shortcake lunch box).

goldilocks and the 3 trails

"it's like learning to ride a bicycle", except when it comes to actually riding a bicycle. it has been several months since i have made an unplanned descent from my saddle. i was about due.

yesterday, the trails were "too dry"; dusty powder provides no traction. thankfully, i had a large, pointy rock to break my fall, before i slid into the creek (which incidentally smells like sewage). much needed rain today, meant the trails were "too wet". i have historically had bad luck (or just really crap hand/eye co-ordination) with wooden bridges. i thought i had overcome them. i had; as long as they are dry. today i skidded off the bridge and nosedived into dirt. fortunately dirt is soft and relatively easy to pick out, suck out, and spit out.

i might need to invest in some protective gear for my ego.