Can I Borrow A Cup Of Paper Clips?

/

Blair and I separated in February, each of us moving into our respective apartments. (He has the newer, nicer unit but I have a patio and snagged the Saber grill.) Since moving, I find myself having flashbacks to my first apartment after college when I constantly found myself running up against those small everyday items you expect to find around the house that just aren't there. 

It has come to my attention that toilet paper, paper towels, light bulbs, batteries, rubber bands, post-it-notes, and hand soap don't just magically appear. I realized just two days ago that I don't own a fly swatter when a wasp got in the house and I was reduced to flinging trail running shoes at it as I ran screaming from the room every time I missed. 

Dear Blair: Thank you for filling our home with replacement paper products for the past twenty years. I'm sorry I didn't notice sooner. Also, if you have a free moment, there is a wasp trapped in my bedroom that could use your attention. I'm tired of sleeping on the couch. 

Cheers,

Dena

Running the 118th Boston Marathon

/

It’s time to start blogging again and what better way to jump into the fray than with a recap of a momentous moment in my life: running the 118th Boston Marathon.

I ran Boston in 2010 and chalked it up as a one and done. I qualify every year but it’s an expensive race (Dear hotels: Three times your standard rates—really??) and I never planned to go back.

Until last year.

I knew almost immediately after the bombings that I would run in Boston in 2014. I wanted to be part of the unity of runners—and of a town—that refused to allow a tragedy to mar the tradition and pride of a historic race.

Not only did I want to run Boston, I wanted to PR. My personal record going into the race stood at a 3:29:31. I wanted a 3:25 so I trained for sixteen weeks on a plan to get me 3:20. I knew I’d need the extra five minutes.

FAVORITE BOSTON MOMENTS

It’s impossible to cover the emotion and magnitude of a race as epic as a Boston, so here are just a few highlights of my race.

The Bus Driver. It’s an hour drive to the start line by bus. Our driver was a woman who from the moment we boarded told us, “I’m here to look after you guys. You need anything, you tell me. You’re all heroes.” Before we got off the bus she got on the loudspeaker and gave a short speech about what seeing runners like us return to Boston meant to her that pretty much had all of us hugging each other and sobbing as we filed off the bus toward Athlete’s Village.

Athlete’s Village. 36,000 runners mill around waiting for the start. I am good friends with two runners from GSO, one of them blind without his glasses—a standing joke in our running group. I’m walking away from the bagel table when a man grabs my shoulder and sticks his face into mine.

Read More

Does This Collar Make My Butt Look Big On Display At Flyleaf Books In Chapel Hill

/

My good friend and uber-talented (seriously, so much skill it's ridiculous) writer friend Steve F. Cushman gave a reading last night at Flyleaf Books in Chapel Hill and sent me an email saying they had my newest book displayed front and center. 

Steve's newest book is one of poetry called Hospital Work and it is... amazing doesn't cover it. This is not what I think of when I think of poetry. It's stories about his work in the hospital and some are raw and gritty and some touching but every one of them perfectly captures a moment or observation. I told him it's the perfect poetry book for people like me who think they don't like poetry.

I've got a book signing coming up at Barnes & Noble in Greensboro, I believe on Saturday, December 21st at 1 p.m., but I'll confirm and let everyone know. 

Cheers,

 

Dena

My First 40-Mile Bike Ride

/

My first time on the bike when I FROZE to death because I didn't know how to dress.My first 40-mile bike ride was actually 36 miles and I'd like to give a shout-out to Jesus for cutting off those last four miles. HOLY CRAP. I don't know if my legs were overworked or I wasn't fueled enough or I'm just a wuss but today's ride kicked my butt... and left a lasting imprint there. 

I knew I might be in trouble when, the night before, I asked my friend Kathi what I should wear for the ride. It was going to be windy and in the low to mid 50's. Her text reply:

Long sleeves and/or arm warmers, a cycyling jersey, a vest or light jacket, light gloves, toe caps and an ear band. Legs will need knee warmers or leg warmers or light tights or capris over your cycling shorts.

Uh-oh. So, I own no biking gloves, no toe caps, no ear bands, no knee or leg warmers and no cycling tights. I realized all this at about 10 pm last night. 

I did my best and pulled on yoga pants under my cycling shorts (because the yoga tights over the padded butt shorts is not a look I relish) and pulled on arm warmers and a jacket, stuck on a headband under my cycling helmet and hoped for the best. 

Temperature wise, I was fine. I actually peeled my arm warmers off half-way through the ride. But I knew I was in trouble when I was panting for breath and getting dropped on the hills around mile 18. 

Part of the issue was I hadn't probably learned to use my gears. I was in the small ring for most of the ride before Kathi coached me on staying more in the big ring with a higher cadence so I could keep up with everyone. At that point, however, the damage was done. I was wiped. 

For all that, I still had a great ride. I love being on the bike, love being out in the sun, love being with friends and talking/not talking as we cruise along. I even enjoy tackling hills, knowing how good the release will feel when the next downhill comes. 

I'm ready for my next REAL 40-mile ride. I have a better fuel strategy, better gear strategy and better "go out slow and don't try to act like a badass the first 10 miles of the ride" strategy. That, and I'm heading to the Trek store tomorrow to drop a small fortune on winter biking gear. 

Cheers,

Dena