Hi! As a prior United States Navy servicemember, I enjoy sharing the way it has changed my life and my deep appreciation of fitness and health. My hope is this journey will be funny, emotional, and inspiring! -Kelly
Anyone else have a deep love for burnt foods? I can already tell this is an unpopular opinion. Burnt tortillas, popcorn, bread. Maybe it’s just a carb preference? Burnt meat is no bueno though.
Cheese quesadilla
I like to play this little game where I stress out about future events. For example, I realized I will one day be responsible for teaching my child how to drive. I’m a great driver so that isn’t the problem. Don’t hold the totaled car against me; there were a lot of factors and not all of them were under my control. The concern is my need for perfectionism. And control. Let’s focus, shall we? To think I will have to calmly sit in the passenger seat while she drives is unnerving. Literally, I feel my heartbeat speeding up as I consider it. I’m sure it will be fine. Side note: Dear Mini’s Father, this is not an invitation for you to take the reigns. I’m perfectly capable to ensure my sweet love will be a conscientious, safe driver. Under no circumstances are you entitled to take this life lesson upon yourself. Don’t get it confused. I know where you live.
Lastly, unless allergic to the key ingredients, I can think of no reason why someone would not love banana pudding. It’s iconic! My Southern roots (Pause. Roots autocorrected to toots and if that doesn’t tell you who I spend most of my time thinking about, then I don’t know what will. Unpause.) demand I make this tasty dish at least twice a year. But why stop there?!
Classic dessert option
It’s work to make sure I keep the random posts to a minimum because I can’t count the number of times in a single day I consider sharing what pops up in my head. Trust me, I’m doing you a favor.
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I ask you –
What’s your take on burnt foods?
Bets on how many nights’ sleep I will lose and gray hairs I will earn when my mini is of age to start driving? The gray has already started and I don’t sleep the best anyway so please be lenient.
Name your favorite classic dessert! And share the recipe, too!
Growing up surrounded by four walls and forestry, all the benefits of country-living have been experienced. Minus what is affectionately referred to as cow tipping. You people are insane. I’ve been involved in not only the stupidest activities but also many that have no statute of limitations so we won’t be speaking of such. One and the same. If you’re like me, you are no stranger to mud. You know, the yucky brown or red stuff that plagues your vehicle and clothing the minute it’s considered.
That being said mud can be a secondary word in some sentences. For example, mud running, mudding (you have to say this with a southern drawl and drop the ‘g’), and something I’m particularly interested in, mud volleyball!
Coming soon: a transformation
Add a little water to the fields of happiness above and magic will happen! Basically what I’m saying is I joined a mud volleyball tournament for July 4th weekend. Aptly named Pig Pen Mud Volleyball, the entry fee is donated to charity – though I do think there is a monetary prize for the winner. My focus on winning could best be classified as zero. I’ve never played mud volleyball, but surely all my years on a junior and high school court will easily translate, right? I know for sure this same tournament happened last year – from what I hear this is year 5 – but I was working a million hours a week and driving about as much so there was no way I could participate.
Fast forward to 2020: things are starting to look up! I’m incredibly eager to play with my teammates whom I’ve yet to meet and most likely won’t until day of. Upon sign up I was informed there would be no practices, the only requirement is to have fun, and most, if not all, my team will consist of city employees, presumably with a median age of 50. I’m not judging. If I wanted to form a more similar to my age team, I would have recruited them. Who has time for that? Alas, beggars can’t be choosers and I’m content to meet new people and not break any bones.
Do love some sand volleyball
Will I be keeping you all abreast of the tournament, complete with mud-attired non-uniforms and lots of alcohol? So glad you asked! Indeed you can count on me to provide a figurative and literal play-by-play of the day’s highlights. If any of you have a desire to travel to this remote area of Texas to cheer me on, I will gladly welcome you with a cold bottle of water and muddy hand print on your rear end.
Good game, everyone!
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I ask you –
How many “muddy” activities have you ever participated in?
Does volleyball appeal to you? I adore playing volleyball.
Gordon Lake and Oscar Park Volleyball Courts, 10am, July 4th. In case you need something to do.
Until recently – shortly over a year ago – is that considered recent? I don’t know – home ownership was only a future possibility. Yes, it was always my dream and something I envisioned would happen eventually, but it was on the medium-to-long-term list. Semi-suddenly, the possibility of moving back to our home state was a very real decision and one we literally jumped at.
Texas, my Texas
Fast forward to today: home owners! But it’s been a rocky ride. For example, no one explained how much work goes into owning a home. It was easy to be complacent when we knew the landlord was only a phone call away and was legally required to fix whatever issue was in question. Now? If I was to pick up the phone and call myself, it makes sense why I refuse to answer!
No one explained to me potential issues. I mean, how could they?! No one shared the underlying expenses. Grass seed. No one gave me a list of all the things that could go wrong. Hello, $700 water bill. No one will be at your beck and call. See “calling myself’ above.
Am I complaining? Yes, but good naturedly, I promise! Investing in something to call my own, to watch my mini grow up in, to be a reflection of my personality and lack of decorating technique: priceless. Until I see the mortgage statement each month. Holy crap. But when I consider the amount of money paid in rent each month for the past, oh, 15+ years, I could have paid for a whole house. Well, back in those days when a house didn’t take 30 years to pay off. Again, I’m not complaining! Just a little.
The real story here is new appliances. Rightfully considered an investment, the available options are overwhelming. Colors, sizes, functions, and the list goes on. Thankfully we bought a home which included all appliances, minus a washer/dryer. Being the realist I am, I fully expected to purchase other appliances as the need arose. So within the first 3 months, we installed 2 new water heaters. I concurred the idea of waking up to a water-logged floor because the over 10 year old water heaters had leaked/exploded/whatever water heaters do when they die was not in my best interest. Price tag: $1200.
Then came the above mentioned water leak issue. I hope you’re seeing a pattern because I’m not done yet. After getting over the initial shock the bill wasn’t a cruel joke, we discovered the culprit. An underground water leak the previous owners probably knew nothing about because they had been paying the minimal water bill while the house was vacant for over a year. As angry as I was about the bill, I was more worried about my home sitting atop an underground swimming pool I didn’t have the luxury of splashing in. Excuse me, where’s the ladder to enter said pool? Price tag: $1800, not including water bill.
(L) New (R) Old
Enter my superstitious mind. The power of 3. Approximately 2 months ago, the refrigerator began spewing ice upon kindly asking it to please drop a select number of cubes into my glass. The spoiled nature of this story can not be overlooked. I guess it just had enough of being nice as ice cubes continued to flow from its confines, long after my glass was full. I must share my mini human has a fantastic sense of humor because watching me panic and yell and rush to find a large vessel to collect all the ice was quite comical to her. Even I laughed at what I thought was my own look of utter defeat. In an honest effort to remedy this error, I cleaned and consoled the refrigerator. Begged is more like it. For a time, we figured out how to get ice without the excessiveness. And I began shopping around because I know my luck.
6 weeks later, ta-da! Shipping delays, par for the course.
My first choice was the ocean
Did I mention I own lake-front property? I’ve already encountered my 3 water-related issues. So I should be good now, right? But, just in case, I have great flood insurance. Superstition only takes me so far.
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I ask you –
What was your biggest surprise upon owning a home?
Barring the differences, or because of them, do you have a preference: rent or own?
Share your favorite story of appliances gone wrong!
Heat training has cracked up to be exactly what I thought it would be: a major pain in the a**. Unintentional as it was, perhaps this is an opportunity in disguise. Or else an upcoming setback. Not one to dwell on the negatives, I am navigating this uncertain time. Obviously I’m being overly dramatic. “Heat training” has not been a part of my plan nor is it necessarily happening currently. Really I’m just trying to figure out how to complete this training cycle throughout the hottest months of the year. Now that my work schedule is getting back to semi-normal (read: full days on an alternating schedule vs previous half days on an alternating schedule) there are decisions to be made regarding when to run.
There are a few options. Do I run prior to sunrise, attempt to complete the miles via treadmill as soon as I return home from work, wait until much after sunset when it – maybe – cools off, or establish an alternating schedule of my own to closely align with my telework days so I can run outdoors mid-morning? Most likely it will be a seemingly weird combination of all these things.
Pay very close attention
It’s probably best this way. I couldn’t imagine Texas being anything other than the hot state it is. Let’s not get started on global warming and climate change. If things go as the all-knowing meteorologists predict, it will most likely hit 105 sweltering degrees some time this week and I’ll be forced to make a decision well out of my control so I best get started deciding now. I took a short break two weeks ago to mull over this issue. Well…actually…hormones and laziness got to me so I decided to skip runs 3 & 4 and focus on recharging my batteries. The body can only take so much GO, GO, GO before it warns you that you may be demanding too much. Besides, breaks are as important (perhaps more important) than the gas pedal. Knowing when to stop is complicated and requires heeding the warning signs. I’m slowly figuring this out.
My trusty trail
Nonetheless, the show must go on! On the bright side there’s only about 5 more months of hot weather which delivers me right to the doorstep of the marathon. How thoughtful. Though I’m hopefully kidding. It will surely become more manageable as time marches on. Not lost on me is the distrust I have in my body now. Performance is based on all cylinders correctly firing at the right time to produce optimal results. Without my temperature regulator, or with a confused regulator, I’m hesitant to push past the point of no return. I guess that’s why God made Fall.
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I ask you –
Training for anything? Do tell!
Is your workplace returning to “normal”? What does that look like for you?
As luck would have it, I’m an early riser. Have been since I was a little girl. Despite the luckiness, some would say a curse, my body has a difficult time sleeping in, or whatever you mortals call it. So during times of inherent sleeping late events – say, Mother’s Day or after a very late night – I magically awake during the wee hours with no further recourse. A drag, I know.
The true magical fruit
Some might ask what exactly the problem is here? Answer: I have created a miniature version of myself who does not understand the respectfulness that is allowing her parent figure to have these early morning hours to herself.
I enjoy solitary time with my cup o’ caffeine and a rousing game of Gummies. Occasionally I check email but that tends to look like work and I will have none of it. But when the smaller person awakes it suddenly becomes a very tiring endeavor to do anything alone.
She hoards my coffee cup of magical beverage, she invades my personal space, and she politely demands to watch her favorite cartoons. There goes quiet time.
Our love of classic cartoons runs deep
But being the resourceful mother I am, I have devised a few ways to circumvent the invasion. 1) Hide. This rarely works because my child has some sort of built in mommy-locator radar. Reminder: look up patents. 2) Give in. You sit beside me, I’ll sit here, you do your thing and I’ll do mine. Ridiculous. This never works. 3) Compromise. Get back into bed, prop up with pillows, and ensure my body is sufficiently touching hers enough to give the illusion I am still sleeping beside her so she won’t wake up to search for me. Eureka! I’ve found the keys to the castle!
At the time of this writing, I have been laying here for approximately 1 hour, have just finished my coffee, AND have entertained myself. The day can now begin. I’m ready for anything.
Except mindless cartoons. I’ll never be ready. Snuggles, however, are much different.
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I ask you –
Wise parents, what have you done to balance your needs with your child’s?
Early riser or all nighter? What’s it like sleeping in? Tell me!
Are children naturally prone to get up early? Nature vs. nurture? I’m like my dad. My mother and sister could sleep all day if allowable.
Sometimes I have an overwhelming need to be in charge of things. And then I remember the freedom that comes from not being a decision maker. Personality flaw. Freedom from deep responsibility vs the notion if you want something done right, do it yourself!
In this case, the natural tendency to bark orders comes honestly, as we’ve discussed at length before. It’s a trait of the Type A’s. I excel at this. But more important than giving orders is the requirement to sit my bossy self down when it’s not my turn. Therein lies the problem.
I just can’t do it! Pre-dating the popular phrase “see something, say something” this is still my motto. Thankfully I’m now in a workplace where I don’t feel relegated to a corner, instructed to keep my mouth shut. In all fairness, this was a military-related issue, not a civilian workforce issue. On the opposing team, there are those happy to be told the who/what/when/where of life. Envious at best. Why can’t I be one of them?
Well, in a way, I’m forced to be such. No longer a boss yet able to make standalone decisions that impact others is a happy medium. A compromise, if you will. Though never intended it does give the day a certain amount of balance. And you know how much I love that word. I can easily defer to the decision makers… or wing it. If you can imagine a wild, sneaky smile, then you are accurately envisioningmy face. I wholeheartedly believe in my uncanny ability to successfully wing it!
Winging it all the way
So I guess I really don’t do well with bowing out of orders. Big surprise. Good thing I share these thoughts with you all. Maybe it will help one person. If not, you know where to go when it’s time to get s**t done!
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I ask you –
Is it possible to experience the best of both worlds?
Should I stop winging it? Surely not. It’s going so well!
It’s not lost on me the symbolism of my catch phrase and the entity I work for. Get it, get it!
Do you know the hardest part about blogging? The photos!
I can write all day long. In fact, I do. There’s no shortage of things for me to endlessly elaborate on. But pictures? Are they even required?
In short, yes? Some? Ugh. This is hard.
Occasionally I use stock photos. Now, I know no one wants to hear that, but it’s the truth. Sometimes I don’t have time to take the photos I want; other times I feel like I keep repeating what I’ve already done. There’s only so many flower photos, people. Barring using the crazy self photos I take at the gym or after I run, it requires a conscious effort to include well thought out photos in each post. Believe me, no one has ever accused me of being well thought out hahaha
Somewhat miss these days
In the meantime, I try to keep these posts relevant and fun. If you have ideas for a post or a subject you’d like my take on, let me know! I’d like to say my door is always open… but I’m scared of the dark – yes, seriously – and it keeps the bugs out.
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I ask you –
Fellow bloggers, what do you do for photographic content?
Any takers for the photography position I have available? Volunteer work only.
Enjoy the first week of June! Somehow we made it this far!
Reading of other great moms and parents who devote themselves to their children’s artistic and mind-blossoming activities, I decided to jump on the proverbial bandwagon. I promptly fell off. In January, we began asking my knowledge-thirsty, small human what her favorite part of the week was. Each Sunday, I pose the question, then draw her memory on a much-too-small piece of paper, date it, then drop it into the unicorn bucket. Mostly, she recalls whatever was done within the past 48 hours; occasionally she surprises me with something from earlier in the week. Let’s be real. It’s my job to remind her of the week’s highlights then she chooses.
I believe it’s going well! The plan is to read all 52 weeks sometime around New Years. Give or take. The joke has become “She tried her best!” I’m the ‘she’ and, yes, I do my try my best but clearly I’m no artist.
My animals look like their evil counterparts and even the stick figures are lacking in depth. I can draw a really great tree, though! Is there anyone who can’t? Nonetheless, maybe I’ll look back on this upon the great unveiling of each week and see how my skills have improved. Just in case, I’m not holding my breath. You shouldn’t either.
Bring on the tacos!
Anyone else have a love affair with cilantro? I absolutely understand it’s a love/hate relationship with this particular greenery. You either believe it is heaven sent or it is what one may envision Dawn dish soap tastes like. I’m of the former. Small favors. Interestingly enough, there was a short period in my life where I was an unwilling participant in cilantro’s soapy side effects.
For as long as I can remember, I have loved cilantro. Raw, in foods (hello, salsa!), I would eat it to my taste buds’ content. However, during pregnancy, and unbeknownst to me, something awful happened. As I sat down to eat one night, I placed a heavy dose of cilantro on my taco, took a bite, and probably made the worst face of my life. Hubby, who can’t stand cilantro in any form, looked appalled. As I stuttered and mumbled along the lines of “It tastes like soap”, I registered complete sadness. I wanted to cry. How could my beloved cilantro turn on me? And during my time of need!
For many months post-pregnancy, I recounted the terrible taste, afraid to try it again. What if it never returned to normal? As anticlimactic as this post is, it should be clear now that my love for cilantro returned. I’ve never had another soap experience. Hallelujah. But all this does lend itself to the fascinating way our bodies and hormones work together.
So what’s the moral of the story? Draw pictures, laugh at yourself, and, for the most daring, try cilantro again.
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I ask you –
Do you have any talents, hidden or otherwise?
Name your most/least favorite vegetable.
Thoughts on cilantro? Bonus points if you’ve been through a similar situation.
I know all about tornado alley. I live there. And there’s really nothing scary about it until tornado season. Or any month of the year. Any day of the week. Take no prisoners. So when I received the alert regarding a tornado warning – remember, that’s the one where they say a tornado has either been spotted or impending – I took it seriously from the comforts of my cozy couch. But I did peruse accuweather. Surprise, surpise. A huge storm sort of headed our way.
Next, I did what any tornado alley-inhabited person would do. I went outside! As if “meteorologist” adorns my name. It definitely does not. As a no less than 46mph wind gust nearly blew me off the back porch, I moved my precious flower pots to safer territory and retreated inside. But not before capturing the above photo of the lake covered in white caps and churning like the open ocean. If I was any dumber, I would’ve got out my kayak and gone for a ride!
Thankfully, the tornadoes never showed their ugly faces near my home but I know many were not as fortunate. In 2 small towns near mine, they experienced golf ball, softball, and bowling ball sized hail. Let me repeat. BOWLING BALL. Can you imagine a bowling ball being chunked through your roof in a +/- 100 mph downdraft? The sound of it would probably have killed me before the impact. These towns are now recovering with the help of saintly volunteers and residents. No doubt the history in some of these places is forever affected.
Double Rainbow
After the wind and rain had passed (or was just beginning for the remainder of the night), I, again, took to the outdoors. A beautiful double rainbow was the only prize for such crazy weather. And some grass in my ears and hair. Just wonderful.
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I ask you –
Ever seen a tornado or know someone who willingly lives in tornado alley?
Being in the US Navy, 46mph winds really isn’t that big of a deal. But it is when it’s unexpected!
Last week was hell. But the good kind of hell. Let’s not mince words and get to the point.
Home sweet home
If you hedged your bets on me not returning to the gym opening day all I can say is I hope you didn’t lose a lot of money. Because I was there. Granted it was 2.5 hours after they officially unlocked the doors, but, hey, I had to work that day so my options were limited.
Needless to say – or is it needed? – I completely broke apart every muscle group minus glutes/legs/anything below the pelvis. It felt incredible! Seems those home workouts were lackluster at best. As the week wore on and DOMS (delayed onset muscle soreness, aka the true hell that sets in to muscles when you’ve pretty much over taxed them) set in, I was located on the couch, unable to move, but so proud of myself. This is the beginning stages of some type of masochism.
If you’re wondering, or judging me, by the negation of lower body exercise, may I remind you I am in the final weeks of pre-marathon base building training. Say that a few times fast. Absolutely I could go in and knock out reps of squats, lunges, and good mornings (p.s. these are my favorite) but the recovery is a heavy price to pay. But now that I say…errrr type…this, I’m reminded how important those good mornings are for strong hamstrings to power my runs. Anyway. I just didn’t do it, ok?! But I will. Promise.
Ugh. Texas heat
Moral of the story: everything is sore, I’m managing to both run and strength train on the same days, and the training plan officially starts tomorrow. In my next life, I will be a juggler in the traveling circus.
Hope you all enjoy your Memorial Day. Remember the true meaning of this day and know we are quite fortunate to have what we do.
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I ask you –
How crazy am I to jump back into the gym day 1? Nevermind. Don’t answer that.
Are there any circuses that don’t travel?
Memorial Day plans? Since large gatherings are most likely out of the question. Unless you’re extremely rebellious.
Running on Fumes 
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