Decide What You Want To Do & Then Find People Who Are Better At It Than You

Yesterday I ran the inaugural Fleet Feet Pickle, an 18.2-mile store-to-store charity run for Backpack Beginnings. Later that night, I attended a “Post-Pickle Party.” Someone at the party asked how long I’d been running and if I’d always been as fast as I am now.

My answer was no, nowhere close. I was a 10-minute miler at best when I started running. I remember thinking that if I could ever only hold a 9-minute pace for a 5K, I’d never ask for anything ever again.

“So how did you get faster?” was the follow-up question.

My answer is that I run with runners who are faster than me.

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Earth Fare Earthlete

Good news! I've been selected to be an Earthlete - an Earth Fare Athlete Ambassador.

For those of you reading this blog that don't live around here, Earth Fare is my grocery store of choice. It's like a super-healthy boutique take on Whole Foods. To be blunt, I all but live there. Their produce makes me cry, it's so pretty. I'm on a first name basis with 90% of the store employees. I eat lunch there at least twice a week. I know on which days at what times they set out their free sample foods. You get the idea. 

Part of being an Earthlete is a 15% discount - stoked! (Actually Blair is probably more excited about that then I am.) Plus I get to represent the store at a few events I compete in throughout the year --they're sending me free gear which probably translates to "Wear our t-shirt when you run" but I don't mind. Love that store, love the people there, love their food philosophy. 

I just received the official e-mail this morning so there will be more details to follow. Presumably something outlining the red carpet roll-out when they present me with my crown and scepter. 



Shameless Flirting

I'm sitting in Starbucks and it's packed. I'm at a small round table by the door and the only open table in the house is a two-top so close to my table it's practically on top of it. Two slow-talking southern gentlemen in jeans and rain jackets who I'm guessing are early to mid 70's just approached with their coffee. 

"Mind if we sit there?" they drawled, nodding toward the table. 

"Not at all," I said. "I was hoping two good-looking men would come along and sit by me."

They perked up, smiling. "Well, I'm just sorry he's one of your options," said one, nodding toward his friend as they squeezed in at the table. 

"Do you like oatmeal-raisin cookies?" asked the friend, ignoring his friend's barb. "'Cause I have two in this bag and I'm more inclined to share with you then this fella here." 

I politely declined the cookie but sat and chatted with the two of them for a few minutes about running, gyms, the weather. The one man kept trying to share his oatmeal-raisin cookie with me. 

"Lord girl, you ain't got an ounce of fat on you. You need this cookie."  

Now they're sitting next to me, quietly discussing life - one is picking his dog up from the vet and can't wait to have him home and the other is having some trouble with his alternator in his truck. 

Lovely men, and a lovely break for me on this rainy day.