And the Winner is . . .
It’s a tie between Tukisha with Personal Improvement Machine Platform or PIMP for short. I love her examples - I have to go do my pimp. My pimp wore me out.
And I really like Real Diva’s Sunshine and her alternate title The Bionic Stationary Cankle Corrector.
So I think I’ll compromise and go with Sunshine PIMP.
Tukisha, friend, if you still have a blog and need a masthead let me know. Real Diva let’s get you a masthead started, send me an email and let me know what you are looking for! Thank you for naming my treadmill.
Spectating 101
My sister ran the Indy Mini Marathon this past weekend and I was on spectation duty, I think I owed her since she’s spectated several of my races. It’s the biggest half marathon in the country, and the 8th largest running event in the country. I’m telling you this because I’m not the best person you want to be with in a crowd. But it wasn’t so bad and I didn’t kill my brother-in-law, Doug. Although my obsessive talking might have driven him crazy.
I was the Spectating Queen. I even made shirts. See Doug spectate:
See Runner Susan spectate:
The shirt says “Go Sister Runner Amy Go”. I wanted it to say “Run Sister Runner Amy Run”, but I ran out of R’s and N’s. Just for the record – I IRONED ALL THOSE DARN LETTERS - not that it’s a big deal or anything, but damn are they straight or what?
Doug and I made it to mile 2.5 with plenty of time to spare, no thanks to my superb navigation skills. When we got there someone even gave us cowbells. And do you know what happens when someone gives you a cowbell? Your arm becomes possessed and you ring the bell nonstop. Really, it happens.
We then popped over to mile 11ish and waited for Amy. When we saw her she performed a mini ballet for us. It was cute, but my pictures didn’t turn out very well. After that we met her at the finish line in corral Q right on time just like good spectators do. Amy ran great and said she had a great time.
Read Amy’s BEST HALF EVER report here!
I think I did pretty well spectating. I thought I would be all “It’s not fair, I wanna be running”, but I wasn’t. It was good to watch other people suffer. I kinda enjoyed myself.
Then we did what all spectators and runners do after a half marathon. We went to the riverboat to play craps. And Amy turned $180 into $540! And Runner Susan turned $160 into $400. And Doug? Poor Doug lost $100. At the first craps table, the people there were just plain hateful and we lost $100 in less than ten minutes, so we went to another one and found the “Craps Table of Love” where we won our money back AND then some. Now I’m itching for a Vegas marathon.
Swimsuit
I need a swimsuit. The kind you swim in, not just float in. Maybe a cool one with some neat patterns or something. Suggestions?
I’m closing the “Name your Treadmill” contest at noon. You guys are too funny.
My boring life continues.
My ankle still swells slightly when overused but I managed to run twice in the past week. 30 minutes each time on what some people call the dreadmill . . . . but ya know what, when it’s your own dreadmill it’s not a dreadmill anymore. It’s a super-spectacular Godess of all things running. And my dreadmill needs a name and whoever comes up with the best one gets a FREE masthead. Meet the newest edition to our family.
It’s your basic Plain Jane Pacemaster Bronze. It goes forward and it goes up and down. It doesn’t talk back and it cleans its own room. It also has side bars to keep me from falling off. Not that I’ve ever done that before . . .
Stationary Susan does boring stuff
Has it been 4 or 5 weeks? I’ve lost count but it seems like forever. Well, at least forever without running. Or physical activity. Or shoes for that matter. I haven’t been able to wear shoes and I miss shoes - I’ve been living in flip-flops and as much as I love flip-flops, they can only take you so far. Stupid stress fracture.
Honestly, I’ve discovered I really don’t enjoy any other forms of exercise other than running and lifting weights. I started lifting weights last week and it’s been enjoyable; I have that nice, lingering soreness in my arms, legs and abs. I can’t believe I’ve missed that kind of pain.
I’ve kept busy by working in the yard, training Cherry, organizing the cupboard, teaching Rowdy to swim and cleaning the pool. We’ve never had a pool before and if you can get past all the maintenance and cleaning it requires, it’s so much fun. Rowdy doesn’t think so, though. If it’s not a soft blanket or a nice bottle of wine, Rowdy pretty much hates the world.
So there you have it, Stationary Susan’s boring life. Mock me, I give you permission.
Would you like some parsley with that?
Sorry, we were cooking spaghetti and buffalo meatballs when I took this picture. I’m in charge of the chopping. Michael cooks, I chop. It’s a beautiful relationship. And the meatballs were so good, I ate a few for breakfast the next morning.
Hahn Estates Meritage, 2006, California, Red Bordeaux Blend
This is fabulous AND only $13.99. HA! Take that. Dark purple color with a great nose to start, offering scents of black cherry and raspberry. A lush collection of dark fruits including blackberry and blueberry. Nice middle with a luscious finish and round tannins - or so the Wine Buyer says, and I agree. 91 Points.
Loving Texas - It’s already pool season!
Date Night - Times Five
Last week Michael and I decided that between mental breakdowns, science projects, dental repairs and the picking up of bucket loads of dingo shit, it was time to head out of town for a while. Our requirements were simple: no kid, no dogs, plenty of wine and some really hot sex.
So we headed to Texas Hill Country to tour a few of the Texan vineyards for a few days. Did you know they made wine in Texas? Did you know vineyards open at 10:00 AM and close at 10:00 PM? Neither did I, but I feel a vital need to share this information with all of you.
Everything didn’t go quite as planned. The hotel where we had reservations turned out to be something along the lines of a Motel 6. It looked nice enough online, but once we checked in I could feel the germs of the last twelve people staying in that room sticking to my skin. Call me a snob, but Runner Susan doesn’t do a germy Motel 6. I didn’t sleep a bit the first night and my immediate call of action the next morning was to find us another place to stay. Luckily, we were able to get the last room at a lovely Bed & Breakfast called Rose Hill Manor. I normally don’t do Bed & Breakfast places because I don’t like the idea of sharing a bathroom, or being in a stranger’s old house. But here we had our own bathroom, the room was clean and there were no quarter machines next to the bed. The view from our room also went on for miles.
I was now happy and ready to proceed with the tasting of wines. There were about six vineyards in the area we were staying and we were able to hit about four of those vineyards. They were all nice places and I have to say that I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the wine. My favorite wine was one at Texas Hills Vineyard called Kick Butt Cab, which we enjoyed with dinner last night. Master Rowdy liked it too.
Did you know that after 4 days of tasting wines Runner Susan does crazy things? Like eat antelope? And baby quail? Me either. The antelope was actually quite tasty, but I’m still having issues with eating an animal that looks like a baby.
The last day of our vacation we were very fortunate to meet an Italian artist named Benini and his very lovely and beautiful wife, Lorraine. We spent some time with them discussing art, politics and how Americans have dirty asses because of our lack of bidets. Their gallery is beautiful and we very much enjoyed the engaging conversation. I adored them both. We also have a white rose painting on hold that is going to look divine over our bed, which is just a very sad blank wall right now. See.
Overall, it was a wonderful vacation, even if Michael did ride his bike everyday. I wasn’t happy about that because I’m injured, which makes him injured by default. But I reckon I’ll forgive him.
We have our Cherry Berry home too and she’s doing so well. She knows 22 commands and is only half the wild dingo she was before camp, but still the sweet little licker we know and love.
