Stuff and other stuff

I have a training plan written, printed, and posted on my fridge. It doesn’t seem terribly difficult. Something I should be able to handle but for some reason, I’m just not feeling it.

Scheduled runs seem a little less fun lately. While unscheduled runs on a beautiful Toronto evening or along a newly discovered trail are tops in my books. Swimming feels like heaven and long weekend rides are so exciting I’m foregoing brunches with friends and afternoons laying on the beach.  

I’m feeling a little Bowie’s in Space and I’ve just started this training plan.

I guess I should pull up my socks. Buckle up my belt (is that a thing?) and get in some road time.

I really shouldn’t complain…but I did anyway.

On a positive note, I’m thinking about sending in my registration for this. It’s a 3.8k swim in Lake Ontario. Yes, 3.8k is a kinda far and I would come in last. As if that will stop me.

And on another negative note. Running. 

Highs and lows people.

Night time runs with visiting bestie and the pup are my new fave Friday night activities.

Flip turns.

Harder than they look y’all. But also surprisingly fun!

Minor embarrassing situation at the pool last night. 

Let me start by saying this, swimming makes me have to pee. A lot. So when I get out the pool, I probably jog/walk to pee as quickly as possible. This is an unfortunate inconvenience for a girl who got her start swimming (and peeing) in all the lakes of Ontario. Do you know how hard it is to take off a wet swimsuit? I fight with it every time. Same with the sports bra, amirite?

I digress.  Bathing suit off, towel wrapped around bod. I CANNOT open my lock. Like 3, 5, 10 tries. Three other girls all take a shot and no dice. I am stuck with no clothes, no keys to my car, and a wet bathing suit that would be impossible to put back onto my bod. Cue the panic, which I hid. Fake it til you make it.

So one of the girls says, I’ll go get someone to cut your lock off. I’m just thankful I didn’t have to exit the change room nekkid. All the girls head out and I’m solo, in my towel, waiting for the inevitable awkward.

Awkward turns out to be a 20 year old boy-child with bolt cutters. In that situation, the only way to get out alive is to own your awkward and laugh it off. And so it was.

The swim was great, thanks for asking.

Your jealousy is unbecoming.

lostweightgainedlove replied to your link: More love and running

So much comedy on this post. First Mr. Beachy Runner. that’s funny. Second the only mad man you are going to get is one that literally shines his murdering and shoes and third did I mention I work with sexual predators… Zac Efron is too young!