My so-called-friend Kim at The G Is Silent tagged me in a bloggy chain letter. Against my better judgement, I’m participating. I have to answer her 11 questions (why 11? Seriously, why not 10 or 12? I like even numbers.) Then I have to ask 11 questions and tag 11 bloggers.

Holy buckets, I’m tired just writing that paragraph.

Anywho. Here are Kim’s questions.

1. Have you ever played an instrument? Yes, in middle school I played the flute. I was terrible and sat last chair. I can’t count, so I could never keep on the rhythm.

2. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleeping and why? 12 hours. I do it every day. Don’t you?

3. If you could be a fly on anyone’s wall whose would it be and what would you hope to learn? John Cusack’s so I could learn his address.

4. What are five items in your home you could not possibly live without? Taryn, John, Reese, Jackson, and Dallas.

5. If someone popped by your house unannounced right now, what would you be most embarrassed about? The yellow snow on the back deck. The stupid dog refuses to go in the backyard now that the snow is past her belly. Sissy.

6. Do you watch any of the Kardashian circus? No. Not even once. That would cut into my Real Housewives time.

7. If you could be famous for anything what would you want it to be? Being reclusive.

8. Who is the person from your past you would most like to reconnect with but can’t seem to find? I’m over finding old friends. It’s way too much effort.

9. Who is at the top of your “list” you know, the one you are allowed to stray from your marriage for? See number 3.

10. What’s your preference phone call, email, or text? Text. I wish everyone would stop calling me.

11. This question was too long and confusing to retype. The answer is no Kim, that’s just you.

So now I’m supposed to think of 11 questions and tag 11 bloggers.

1. What is your favorite show on Bravo?

2. Who is your favorite Real Housewife of Orange County?

3. Who is your favorite Real Housewife of New Jersey?

4. Who is your favorite Real Housewife of New York?

5. Who is your favorite Real Housewife of Atlanta?

6. Who is your favorite Real Housewife of Beverly Hills?

7. Who was your favorite Real Housewife of DC?

8. Who was your favorite Real Housewife of Miami?

9. What is your favorite beer?

10.What is your favorite boxed wine?

11. Why do you think there are 11 questions instead of 10?

I’m not tagging anyone. If you want to answer them, let me know in the comments and I’ll add a link to your blog to this post.

Kim, you owe me a box of wine.

 

 

No joke. Running sucks. I hate it. I hate how I look doing it. I hate doing it. I hate everything about it. I hate the cute jogger moms and dads with their little strollers and skinny thighs. I hate the bulky guys who run with no shirts on in the summer. I hate the bulky guys who run with only a sweatshirt on in the dead of winter. I hate the people who are in training for some big stupid race. I hate the people who run just for fun, as if anything about running is fun. I hate it.

Obviously, I should take up running.

I started running, indoors-on-a-treadmill-at-the-gym a few years ago. After I had the twinkies I was fat. FAT. A big fat, fatty. For real. I have photographic evidence, but I’m not sharing it with you. I went on Weight Watchers and bought a membership to the Y. It worked. I lost 30 lbs and was back to well beyond my pre-babies weight. I was thinner than I had been since high school. It made me very happy.

Then we moved to this God-forsaken place and I gained 5 pounds almost immediately. Stupid Alaska.

A month or so ago I ordered some lotion from another mom, Kay, at the twins school. Kay is a runner. I told her that I wanted to start running more. Running outside. Maybe even do a race.

I was just making polite conversation.

I fantasize about running like a fantasize about writing a book. Good thoughts, zero action.

Would you believe that broad took me up on it? Last week she MADE me run 3 miles with her. She only let me walk about half a block too. Geez…

Ironically, it felt good. And I felt good. I think I even lost a few ounces. (I know this because I weigh in every 30 seconds.)

Last week I was chatting with another runner “friend” and we talked about getting together on her day off. I must have been drunk or something because the next thing I knew I was sending an email suggesting we go running Wednesday morning around a 4 mile path on post. I’ve walked it. I’ve run 3 miles. I figured I could hack it.

When I saw my “friend” again on Saturday she informed me that there would be no walking. She also informed me that she runs slow because she is pregnant. (sidebar-I would never have asked to go running with her if she were not pregnant. I would not be able to keep up.) I told her my average pace is a 10 minute mile. Apparently, that is her slow.

I hardly slept last night worried that my pregnant “friend” was going to have to drag me home from the trail.

This is Christin, she took 3rd place at our Just Dance competition last week. She looks really nice in this photo, but don’t let it fool you. She’s mean. Pregnant and mean. And 25 years old. Well, she might be older than that but it makes me feel better to think she’s 11 years younger than me, so I’m going with it.

She actually showed up this morning all ready to run. She did let me walk a few times, when I stopped breathing. (In my defense it was cold, I’m sure it was the cold that did it to me) Until the end, then she made me keep running when I wanted to stop. Jerk. Way to wait until I was worn out. She’s mean like that.

When we were done she said, “thanks for the walk.” Walk? Screw you meanie!

In truth, I appreciate it. I need the motivation. Left to my own devices I would sit on the couch all day watching Bravo, eating Reese’s peanut butter cups, and drinking wine. I would also have an arse the size or Rhode Island. So thanks to Kay and Christin. But, I still think you’re mean.

I’m walking tomorrow with the ladies from my Arse Reduction Club. Walking I don’t mind, running sucks.

But, I’m doing it. I’m running. I’m registering for a race that I have no chance of placing in. I just want to do it. I also want to be skinny. So I’m eating stupid oranges and running. Life sucks.

Also, not to make a big deal of it or anything. But I totally stomped Christin at the Just Dance competition. So there.