Life and stuff

I've been wearing contacts since I was 13 years old, but I still manage to scratch my corneas at least once a month when trying to pry them off my eyeballs. You'd think that I had my life together by now.

So how are you?

I'll be the first one to admit that I haven't been updating this blog nearly as much as I should and quite honestly, I don't really have a good reason for my long absences. Things are going well. Steady and well ... and that doesn't always make for the best blog material.

(I feel like that's God's cue to throw some curve balls my way. Please don't.)

Yes, we did have to purchase a new refrigerator last week and no, I was not happy about it. The only silver lining in the whole ordeal is that we now have a fridge that makes crushed ice, and I guess that means we're finally moving up in the world. Clayton was getting me a glass of water the other night and inquired, "Would you like crushed or cubed ice?" and I felt like he was asking me if I preferred champagne or caviar. We're finally that fancy.

But now we have a minor ant infestation in the kitchen and a weird black stain suddenly developed on our carpet. Why? Because it's always something with homeownership.

In other news, this weekend I participated in the Mag7k, the annual fundraiser of the Mag7 Road Race Series. I haven't done this particular race in a few years, but I was itching for some redemption after the Indy Mini.

About a mile into this weekend's 7k, I suddenly remembered why I haven't done this race for awhile: It sucks.

The race is only about 4.3 miles, but the race director does a really good job of making sure most of those 4.3 miles are uphill. Holy geeze! These thighs haven't run on a steady incline in forever and when you pair that with unbearable mugginess and humidity? No thanks.

It definitely wasn't my fastest race, but the odds were ever in my favor and I still managed to squeak out a first place win in my age group.

I  received a t-shirt for my efforts and well, I was pretty jazzed about that.

Then I went home and ran another 2.7 miles to round out my mileage for the day because in the words of my good friend Michael Jackson, don't stop til' you get enough. 

And according to my aching quads, 7 miles is enough. 

My reward?

Ice cold brew. 

I think I might be every coach or personal trainer's worst nightmare because I believe that any physical exertion should be immediately rewarded with beer or sugar.

*Folds laundry* "I have cookie now?"

It rained off and on all weekend but believe it or not, we got all of our garden boxes tilled and ready for the plants I'm inevitably going to kill in a few weeks. My loving in-laws brought over their heavy-duty garden tiller and in a matter of minutes, we had soil free of weeds and ready for gardening. 

To pay them back for their generosity, we gave them a 6-pack of beer because I believe that any kind gesture should be immediately rewarded with beer or sugar.

Since it was so gross and wet, we're going to wait to buy our seedlings until later this week. Plus, I'm still trying to decide what to plant. I know I'd like to do tomatoes and green peppers again this year, but I'm not sure what else. Where does one purchase the seeds for a money tree?

Hope everyone's week is off to a good start! I'm going to retire to my boudoir (that's French for "bedroom". You're welcome.) to read for a bit before I hit the hay. I've slept like garbage the past few nights but instead of taking some Nyquil and calling it a day, I feel compelled to get through a few more chapters of Wally Lamb's The Hour I First Believed. I can't put it down because once again, Mr. Lamb is proving himself to be a master storyteller (he's the author of my all-time favorite book She's Come Undone).