I ran two miles. Straight. No stopping! Well, we aren’t going to count stopping at the water fountains at either end of the neighborhood park are we? No, we are not. This is my blog about my new things. I get to make the rules, so, shaddap. And yes, I want a medal.
The Kinesthetically Omniscient Husband commented on my morning run yesterday. It has taken me over a year of off and on practice- mostly on, thankyouverymuch, but I’m overjoyed to say that most mornings I run two miles. The problem is, after around the first mile I slow to a walk at a water fountain, stop for a good ten minutes of yoga(ish) stretching and deep breathing, then continue with the second mile. The Husband, a life-long active type, reminded me to be careful that I wasn’t just training myself to take a break at one mile… he also knows that I have the goal to run a 5K this year. Dammit. Should have kept my goals to myself.
All I can say is, it was still a beautiful and perfect day to step it up. The wind was blowing just right and instead of the aroma of my and every neighbor’s stale refuse (PSA- Don’t run on a trash day), the run was filled with the smell of sweet grasses and roses. Seriously, roses. Everyone’s roses are blooming profusely right now (sorry, Midwest and Northeast friends. Just stop reading now!).
All of the earlier winter rains we received in the Southwest have contributed to the most wonderful flowers and grasses in our canyons and natural areas. One good onshore breeze and you are in heaven, believe me. The chaparral here is full of different kinds of sage and herbs- The Husband has a friend who puts the local sage in his home-brewed beer. One fellow cyclist commented “Hey! It tastes like a bike ride!”
I’m just happy I finally broke that straight through the two miles barrier. Next goal: add in the hills. Am I going to regret sharing this? I hope not.
It’s getting difficult to get the four of us together for a tourist day. Between college and high school entrance requirements we are more scattered than ever.
Plus, the half hour ride in the car to get anywhere means 30 minutes of butt jokes coming from the back seat.
Aside from bringing The Girl to her friend’s house in Oceanside (pre-licensed teenager days), the only thing I associated with this city was a long drive down the coast to my great-grandparents condo when my brother and I were younger. We had nothing to do but read the books we brought along. Our other option was to slip and slide down a long iceplant covered hill, cross a highway and buy candy at a 7-11 mini mart. When the great-grandparents’ health began to fail, I don’t remember helping out with any of moving or cleaning… we were probably just under foot while others took care of the work, but then again, we were just flaky little punks back then. My brother did a complete turnaround not long after that, and since then he’s the one the family can count on when the older family members have needed anything.
Today we spent the afternoon driving through beach towns before arriving in Oceanside. We walked to the pier with the sun in our faces only to have the marine layer roll in by the time we reached the end of the walk. After five days of Santa Ana conditions, I was in heaven! My kids played on the boardwalk like I did decades ago. They loved seeing the sand underneath give way to the rocks then the waves. We snapped pictures of birds waiting to snatch the catch away from people fishing on the pier. I busted them before they could spit on the surfers below. Fourteen-year-old boys are such… fourteen-year-old boys. Especially when egged on by the big sister.
“OK, now we don’t have to go to Oceanside again.” That was The Husband’s observation.
He prefers the Encinitas, Cardiff and Del Mar scene.
See? If you cheat on your way up, God’s gonna cool you down.
Just kidding, don’t hate on me. I initiated this search originally (left photo) as a concerned lover of Beantown, NOT a disgruntled Colts fan. Which I am also.
Even the ads are getting sarcastic, check out the one on the bottom of the page that I got a screen shot of (right)
God bless you, Boston and surrounding areas. Stay warm and safe! I can’t visit soon enough, its one of my favorite places on earth, snow or no snow.
I went to a new place tonight, just for a laugh (Ha, get it? Comedy club? Just for a laugh? I crack myself up). The last time I went to a comedy club was when we lived in the Midwest, and before that was more than 20 years ago when I took a roommate to a show at The Groundlings in L.A.
It’s been awhile! We got to The Mad House Comedy Club in San Diego’s Horton Plaza in time for a late dinner, and for The Husband to say hi to an old friend… he went to school with the headliner back in the day. The entertainment was fab- man, I wish I were that witty! If Johnny is playing in your area, go catch him. His take on pop music chords really shows off his overall talent and comic ability. If you can judge a comic’s ability by how hoarse their audience is at the end of the set, well then, my voice was shot by the time we got back to the car. Lots o’ laughs.
T’was a ball, highly recommend the venue and the comic- Johnny Cardinale is a great and funny guy!
The Husband helped me come up with the name of this blog. He liked the idea of branching out and trying something new every day. The Girl had her own suggestions including, but not limited to, the following:
My Life with the Three Other Farts (I really like how this implies that I, too, am a fart)