Come Sit By Me

As things were pretty non-existent for a while around these parts, I figured it would be a good time to catch up on life.  So pull up a pool chair, order a margarita, and let’s chat a bit.

Salut!

I WANNA DO-OVER

Let’s just say 2018 has been a total poop show.  It’s always tricky deciding how much we want to reveal of our personal details in the blogosphere, and it’s no exception here.  Let’s just say, the Black Dog staff had some MAJOR medical issues come up, but thankfully, all pulled through and the recovery process is moving along nicely.  Word to the wise: when you have a bellyache for a week, don’t give your significant other grief when the doc says to get your dupa to the hospital.  And once you’re there, thank your lucky stars said significant other is too stubborn to let you leave.  2018 could have ended a whole lot worse than it started, so we are happy to leave it in the dust.

THE WONDER MUTT STILL REIGNS SUPREME

This girl.

Beware the snoot……

Still just as silly, still a splash queen, still the BESTEST WONDER MUTT EVER, even if she has gotten a little more “sun exposure”.  She is the love of my life, my confidant, my fashion consultant, my workout buddy, bestie and running partner.  And yes, her Daddy gets it and makes sure to occasionally give me grief about it.  Maybe if he met me at the door at night wiggling his butt with a hedgehog in his muzzle, he’d rate right up there beside her too. 🙂

Do you like my hedgehog?

AGING SHOULD ONLY APPLY TO FINE WINE 

Have I ever told you I’m the youngest of five kids?  Yup, FIVE.  How the heck my parents did it is completely beyond my comprehension, especially since I have enough trouble with a husband a dog.  I hit another decade last year and fighting Mother Nature with everything I’ve got.  As much as I despise admitting it, all those articles about your metabolism slowing down each decade are absolutely true.  Mine however, has decided to just plain check out.  I swear I just LOOK at a mini peanut butter cup – LOOK – and POOF!  That’ll cost you another five pounds lady.  I know I did not do well when I was recovering from my two knee surgeries, but dammit Mother Nature, can you cut me a bit of a break here??  I turned half my garage into a gym, tuned up the bike, and kick my own dupa six days a week.  And still.

Nothing.

Nada.

I’m coming for your hips lady….

Hello Jabba the Black Dog.

There is nothing more frustrating than forcing your muscles to lift more, run faster (well try to anyway), pedal away the miles, eat enough veggies that you swear you’re turning green, and still nothing.  The hubs tells me I look great and there’s only so much I can do.  But this is ME.  Stubborn, concrete-headed, determined, refusing to give up, and just plain pissed off.

Ladies?  Ya see what I’m sayin’??

I understand everything is a balancing act.  I cannot obsess about calories in/out, but I do pay some attention to what I shove in my yap.  If only there weren’t so many amazing tastes out there!  Drink half my weight in water most days, but then…..WINE.  Sweat my dupa off in the Island Time Sweat Box then find that creating cocktails is kind of fun.  What’s a girl to do?  If any ladies out there suffering from a slowing metabolism and uncooperative genetics have any ideas, by all means – feel free to share.

Then we can down those margaritas. 😉

PRIORITIES MOVE LIKE THE TIDES

There’s nothing like a good old life scare to make you step back and re-evaluate what’s important.  For all my metabolism bitching, in the big picture it means nothing.  The love and health of family and friends, the health and happiness of your critters, slowing down life for a minute and enjoying a sunset with a special someone and a good glass of cabernet, traveling outside your comfort zone and embracing adventure, that’s what life should be all about.  Not making enough money?  Live within your means and be happy you have a job when so many others don’t.  Angry the man of the house keeps forgetting to put the toilet seat down?  At least he’s there to forget to do it.  Living with what seems to be a case of a permanent bad attitude?  Make the effort to do something nice for someone else and then try to fight that smile that’s tugging at the corners of your mouth.  Without question what was important to me 20 years ago is nowhere near what it is now.  We all have personal trials we go through and times in our lives when it seems like everything is a big pile of dog poop.  Then something happens to make you realize your poop amounts to nothing.  NOTHING.

LIFE IS WHAT YOU MAKE OF IT

Races. Travel. Laughter.  Great friends and great times.  Funny how the simplest things have the biggest impact on your life.  Some of the best times I’ve ever had included a glass of wine, music, friends, dogs, and a simple backyard fire at this great little tiki bar I know.  It’s easy to find things to be grateful for each and every day, if you just take the time to stop and notice.  A helpful coworker, a smile from a stranger, a funny joke made by a passing runner at a race – all good things.  So my advice to you as I bring this recap of sorts to a close, is to appreciate the life you’ve been given and everything that makes it awesome.  You only get out of life what you put into it, so make that little extra effort, especially this time of year, when so many feel so lonely.  It costs nothing to thank a veteran or first responder for their service (dispatchers too!), or to help a senior citizen load groceries in their car.  Little things go a long way and people always remember the little things.

My challenge to you this day is to do some little thing for someone else.  Pay for their coffee, hold a door open, give their dog a biscuit (after making sure it’s ok of course!), then come back here and share what you did.  I guarantee you will feel a bit better about yourself and life in general.  Perhaps if we all do a little something for someone else, this tide of animosity that seems to be overtaking our lives will turn back just a little bit.

And little bits can change the world.

 

Enjoy the ride.

What little thing makes you smile?

Friday Funny

FF cat-fat-traid-mill-summer-body

Enjoy the ride.

And once again summer has crept on us.  Are you “summer body” ready or did you fall into complete fat cat mode?

What Does A Runner Look Like?

As I was mindlessly scrolling through my Twitter feed the other day, this one from Stephanie over at Goober Monkey caught my often wavering attention.  Her tweet once again brought to the forefront of said wandering brain something that continuously pisses me off to no end, and something my running BFF’s and I deal with on many a random running occasion.  I’m referring to a little – all right maybe not so little – affliction I like to call IRC.  As in “the idiotic comments that people make IRC the living hell out of me”.

angry rabbits

“You pissed? Yeah, I’m pissed.”

IRC: Idiotic Running Comments – a momentary lapse of common sense causing one to uncontrollably and/or spontaneously utter aforementioned idiotic comments upon discovering a woman larger than 100 pounds and shorter than 5’9″ has the ability to – dare I say it? – RUN.  Not to take away anything from the Shalanes, Karas, and Deenas of the world, but not too many of us have the advantages or resources to have almost every bite of food prepared for us, spend our days training with a myriad of coaches, have a team of doctors available at a moment’s notice to immediately take care of whatever ails us, and, the crowning jewel of it all, get paid for it.  As the genetic swimming pool has its limits, not all of us can be blessed with genes donated straight from the running gods either.  Lest we not already be suffering from the inevitable bad body image illness that many a woman has suffered from – rather rationally or not – let’s take into account how many skimpy little “running” shorts and cutesy (and completely non-functional) sports bras companies like Under Armour or Nike would sell if they only had real world runners available as their models?  (And yes, I’m looking at you Under Armour and your choice of a certain bitchy football star’s wife as one of your models).

angry model

“What?  You’d be cranky too if you hadn’t eaten in a week and had to fly to Milan!”

Ironically, as I was putting my thoughts on this in some semblance of order, I was also debating about making the ultimate leap for a socially awkward introvert and possibly joining a local running club.  As I was scrolling through the club’s pictures, I once again began to experience those old familiar feelings of irritation.  Why go down that road of angst and aggravation you may ask?  Well.  Let me tell ya.  Every picture posted of this club’s members showed tiny, thin, lean, muscley people who I’m sure never met a kale salad they didn’t like.  Let there be no mistake – kudos to these people who are probably complete badasses on the pavement and in the gym,  But where are the runners who, you know, don’t “look” like runners?  These are the peeps that this Queen of All Things Cellulite With the Ever Expanding Waistline wants to see gracing the pages of your website.  The ones who leave it all out there on the course and end up dealing with shut down water stops and a “sorry, we ran out of snacks and finisher medals”.  Those are the people who would do more to encourage someone like me to give that club a try than anything else.  If this world operates on looks, then put some “real world” looking people on your run club’s website and see how fast your club grows.

After looking further into this particular club, their schedule just wouldn’t work for me, so the point was moot anyway.  I wonder though, if this experience was to turn me off from joining a running club, then how many others out there have felt the same way?  How often has a case of the IRCs affected what had the potential to be a really good thing?

Petty as it may sound, if I’m looking for a particular piece of athletic clothing and can find it made by a company other than Under Armour, and that company has enough foresight to use models that actually have some curves to them, you can bet I’m going to take a second look.  Why?  IRC people.  It’s real.  My business with Under Armour may have been minimal at best, but it took just one ad, with one particular model, to turn me off from ever wanting to buy from that company ever again.  Can you imagine what would happen if more and more people did the same thing?  Under Armour would eventually have to take notice.  Sadly though, just like runDisney and the massive screwing they gave us Wine and Dine night race diehards, there will always be enough hungry consumers out there that a few opinionated concrete-heads boycotting their products, will not a difference make.

mad duck

“Thanks for nuttin’ runDisney!”

Am I coming across as more and more aggravated with companies who refuse to use REAL women – women who are in just as good, if not better shape, than the so-called “fitness” models they use to peddle their wares?  ABSOLUTELY.  Do I hate letting my little and insignificant corner of the internet go down a negative road?  ABSOLUTELY.  But I think it’s important to sometimes take the time to say what so many others want to, but for whatever reason, just don’t.  No worries, I got ya covered. 🙂  No offense to Ms. Hudson, but have you ever had a non-pregnancy involved fat day in your glamorous life?  I’m thinking not so much.  Would Fabletics advertise as much as they do and sell as many of those great outfits if she did?  I doubt it.  I sure know though, that I would be much more inclined to drop that kind of money if I was looking at those great patterns on say, Robyn Lawley.

If you’ve stuck with my rant this far then kudos to you for hanging in there on my latest brain vomit.  Sadly, I don’t think the minds of sportswear manufacturers will ever listen to temper tantrums like this, drop their IRC-ey mind sets, and not find it necessary to consider anything more than 100 pounds, and waists bigger than 23″ a “plus” anything.  Until they get hit where it counts – right in their checkbooks and stock options – it’s doubtful things will ever change.  Thin-sexy sells, and in the minds of way too many, sexy is not 150 lbs.+ and under 5’9″.  But have no fear my fine friends and faithful followers.  Whether you’re sporting a “perfect” package or have embraced all things curvaceous, this Black Dog doesn’t give a rat’s patootie what size it says on your clothing tags.  The only measurement we care about in these parts, is the size of your heart.

And maybe the margarita glass.

margarita.jpg

Enjoy the ride.

Do you find yourself getting aggravated by the constant bombardment of what’s considered the perfect body?  Do you wish manufacturers would stop using super models in their ads?  Do you find your friends and/or daughters are impacted by what they see in magazines or on tv?

**DON’T FORGET!  (You forgot didn’t you??)  I’m returning to racing on Sunday, May 8th for the WORLDWIDE (yes, WORLDWIDE) Wings for Life World Run and I need your help!  Please consider donating to Team Wonder Mutt as we raise funds to help stamp out spinal cord injuries! Visit the team Wonder Mutt page here today!  I promise, it won’t hurt at all!  Not even just a little bit!  Thanks everybody!!