pinteresting and more


Perfect for poolside…if I had a pool; or if my hot tub was working and not dismantled and just an empty shell as it has been for weeks now. Ahem, darling husband.

So there have been a few tornado watches and warning here in our neck of the woods. Yes, Northern Cali experiences tornadoes! People often forget that NorCal gets tornadoes. In fact, the only reports of tornadoes in the US on Wednesday, March 26 were from our area. But because everyone believes them to be rare, warnings sent out via text and phone just don’t get the respect they should in these here parts. Which means we get to see some pretty amazing pictures and videos like this.

Whoa, indeed!

Math nerds, mark your calendars.

Actually, I imagine that the math nerds have known about this a long time ago. The rest of us mere mortals are just now catching up.

For each petal on the shamrock
This brings a wish your way -
Good health, good luck, and happiness
For today and every day.
~ Author Unknown ~

It’s even lovelier around my neck.

I want to be this awesome when I am 97.

And here I was all ready to write something thoughtful and eloquent about motherhood and Gwyneth Paltrow when Sarah of the Sticky Fingers Brigade did it for me.

Not one mother out there has never said (or thought to herself) some snarky, mean thought about other mothers doing it wrong, meaning not the way we are doing this mothering thing that we do so maybe we should chalk up Gwynnie’s thoughts to her doing just that. We can then smirk and shake our heads over her being a lot clueless and get back to trying to do our very best being the mothers that we are.

For those days when I have nothing to wear.

Thank you Caleb White for your service to us all.

Yes, thanks to Self and their mistake and pretty lame apology we discovered something pretty awesome that is Glam Runner because tutus are pretty damn awesome.

Even more better was that Self followed up on that apology by changing the conversation and keeping it positive.

You can support Girls on the Run — the charity on whose board Monika sits — and UCSD’s neurooncology lab where she is being treated, or you can go for a run tomorrow morning wherever you live, in a tutu or anything else you like. #ChangeTheConversation  #KeepingItPositive

 

 

 

no Self, you are lame!


#tutusrock is trending today and here’s why:

From Glam Runner’s Facebook page-

Excited to see our tutus in SELF Magazine … but shocked to see that running tutus are classified as lame. Especially considering the fact that this picture is from last year’s LA Marathon when Glam Runner founders Tara and Monika ran together as superheroes … because Monika was recently diagnosed with brain cancer and was running a marathon in the middle of a year of chemo.

Never mind that Self is a few years behind the trend, this BS meter is what’s really lame.

Because runners do run through the city wearing tutus…

and in Central Park.

They even put on a tutu to run their very first half marathon on their 48th birthday. Yeah they do!

Tutus are even spotted running in the mud.

Yes, Self, you are correct. Sparkly, frou-frou skirts don’t make us run faster. We already knew that. But they often make running fun. They empower us. They make us smile. They make other people smile.

 

photo from Glam Runner

The real story behind this photo is not that tutus are a “lame” fad. Despite what SELF Magazine published, it is not that “people think these froufrou skirts make you run faster.”

The real story behind this photo is that Tara and Monika, pictured here, are board members for Girls on the Run San Diego. They founded Glam Runner, a business that sells running tutus, to raise funds for the council. They are dedicated to helping grow the program in their community. The real story behind this photo is that the awesome duo were running the LA Marathon while Monika was receiving chemotherapy treatments for brain cancer.

One of our core values is to stand up for yourself and others, so we are standing up for Tara and Monika, as well as every other runner who has finished a race feeling awesome in a tutu.

Unfortunately, when Self reached out to Monika Allen for permission to use her photo in the April 2014 issue, they didn’t bother to get the story behind the photo, why they were wearing tutus dressed as Wonder Woman and Super Woman. I wonder if they even noticed that it says “Die, Tumor, Die” on Tara’s race bib. But the story wouldn’t have fit well in their mocking and declaration that running while wearing a tutu is lame. Of course that fits in perfectly with Self Magazine’s mission to help us love our healthier, happier, more confident selves; right along with their photoshopped covers.

The thing is, Self, the running community is tight knit, accepting, encouraging and we stick up for one another. Whenever one is down, another one is there to pick them up. Girls compete against each other, women and men empower each other. Rather than poke fun at women (and men) wearing tutus and running through Central Park, perhaps Self should be celebrating the fact that they out there being active, striving for goals that helps them become their all around best. Perhaps when Self contacted Monika through GlamRunner, they should have taken the time to look through their site a little more closely and see who and what they are all about. Then maybe Luci Danziger, Editor In Chief of Self, would have never had to apologize in the first place; because she would have known what Monika has been through. Yes, it indeed was an error, a stupid mistake and it never should have been run in the first place.

That, Self, is what is lame this month!

miles


This last weekend I hit a milestone. I have ran more than 3,000 miles in the last (almost) four years. 3,000 miles! I know! That’s like running coast to coast. I blame Kristen, Bill and Kari…especially Kari! Just kidding! Actually I am quite grateful to all of them for the friendship, the inspiration, the support and the whining…them putting up with MY whining. We have logged many miles together and apart but we were always connected and remain so. Running with them virtually and together broadened my circle of friends with Stephanie, Erica, Liz, Beth, Christina, Christine, Kale and so many more awesome people I’m sure I’m forgetting…go ahead and yell at me for forgetting, mmm-kay? But the circle grew even larger as I connected with local folks running like crazy…Linda, Row, Mac, Mike, Erika and Layla. I even reconnected with a high school classmate who I now count as a very, very dear friend thanks to running. Miles and miles of running together and not together connects us all in a way that one can not imagine unless they too are running. Perhaps it’s all those happy, happy endorphins…or maybe we are just a little bit crazy like non-running folk pronounce us to be. Who knows? But we are a close knit community. When one falls or is injured or must stop running we feel their pain and frustration. When one of us PRs we celebrate their amazing feat. We are a close-knit family thanks to all the miles we have all covered.

So when the bombs went off at the finish line of the Boston Marathon we were pained. No, we were struck down, maimed even. Many of us knew people running in Boston…and were following their run in a creepy-cool kind of way thanks to social media and electronic timing chips and we immediately checked to see where were they on the course. We then checked on our running friends who live in Boston but were not running. Sure, Boston is big city but Patriots’ Day and the Boston Marathon are a big, fat deal in their hometown. It’s a day to play and to celebrate. A huge sigh of relief was breathed knowing everyone we knew was okay. Still we felt the pain being broadcast for hours on end on Monday. Once again our country was attacked on a beautiful day by clearly someone or someones who truly have nothing but hate, mayhem and destruction on their agenda. The loss of life was nothing like 9-11…THANK GOD! Still, a life is a life and we can’t help but feel pain for the families of those three beautiful souls. As runners, we looked to who ended up being the victims that day…runners thisclose to the finish line, spectators cheering them on and looking for their own people to cross. Many of these innocents were family of runners- parents, husbands, wives, children, grandchildren, some were likely to be runners too, runners who just crossed the finish line and looking back for a friend who was still on the course somewhere or runners who were not running that day but were there to cheer on other runnersbecause we runners like to do that when we can’t run. And some were just people, random strangers there to cheer on these crazy running people…perhaps at the request of a friend 3,000 miles away from the finish line. They were all joined in the community of running, celebrating, enjoying a beautiful day together. And in an instant it was all blown up…literally. So many were injured, horribly disfigured for god only knows what evil reason. And the running community grieved perhaps as much as Boston has been. Our family was viciously attacked. How could we not grieve?

You see, the thing about us runners is that we are runners. We might not have qualified this year. We may have qualified but did not run. We may have been injured and unable to go. We may have never qualified (and given my granny pace, likely never will). But we are runners and Monday and every day since Monday, our hearts have been in Boston.

And since Monday, this family whom I belong to has united even more tightly. We are determined to reach out and love Boston, to share, to help, to give, to show our solidarity wearing our tech shirts from races past all week long and to run and keep on running…running more and more miles…all for Boston. And as we run, we are healing because those endorphins are epic stuff, yo!

The logistics of races will likely never be the same thanks to the evil that tried to destroy the Boston Marathon, but race we will continue to do. More miles. You just can not stop us from running more miles.

Just as President Obama predicted today I know for sure that “this time next year on the third Monday in April, the world will return to this great American city to run harder than ever and to cheer even louder for the 118th Boston Marathon.

Bet on it.”

and in a flash I am back in 2001


Oh to be 12 years younger! The things I would (and most definitely would not) do. But one can not go back in time…can they?

My darling husband early this morning ran in Dell Osso’s 2nd Annual Mud Run on the Farm. Yes, the same mud run I ran last year. He trained a little with his Krav Maga class that he takes twice a week but I won’t lie to you, I was genuinely concerned about how he would do…considering how heavily he STILL smokes (even when he often finds himself gasping for air after a coughing fit) and considering how high his cholesterol is and that study released this past week linking male patterned baldness to a higher risk of heart disease.I had a dream/nightmare last night that he collapsed while running and then I woke up…HATE when that happens! So this morning, as he headed off to run in the mud and Jodie and I headed off to another dance competition I couldn’t help but be worried.

What can I say, I sometimes often worry for nothing. It’s my nature, it’s who I am, it is a result of decades of bad things happening and my worst fears realized. But, thankfully, Bill did great completing the run and obstacles in the mud in just under an hour.

Way to go, honey!!!

So now I could exhale, relax and enjoy watching Jodie and Hazel dance. Then the phone rings…

Actually it was FaceTime…

Up pops my daughter Zoë. She’s crying. Her face is bruised and bleeding and she is crying. It seems that she was in an accident on her way to work. She crashed her skateboard.

WHAT?!

Yeah, she likes to get from point A to point B on a skateboard and yeah, without a helmet…

Mom, please…

But yes, she crashed her skateboard and hit her head, scraped up her face, chipped a tooth and broke her nose…broke her nose for now the 4th time.

OH dear glob! And people think I’m joking when I declare that she has an exhausted guardian angel who probably cringes every single time she leaves the house.

Every.

Single.

Time.

She is so lucky.

So damn lucky.

And I am perhaps another 20 years older thanks to her latest misadventure.

I might have aged greatly but this picture she sent to me while in the ER in LA took me back 12 years…and not in a good way.

I swear hours later I am just starting to breathe a little bit easier. Thank goodness for a late night run and some wine. My darling husband rocked the mud run today. My dancing daughter, Jodie and my tiny dancing grand daughter, Hazel, both are off to a great start with this weekend’s dance competition earning high awards and my daughter Zoë is home safe in LA under the watchful eye of her boyfriend…and a guardian angel who likely could use a good stiff drink right about now.

post-partum snark


Hurray for awards season! Time to let our clever snark fly on down the Red Carpet because who better to do that than those of us who cares (or doesn’t care) who wore who than us plain folk who likely will never, ever walk down a Red Carpet someday…

although I am counting on Jon Walkup getting nominated for an Academy Award and remembering that he promised me that I could come to cheer him on. Sure that honor should go to his mom, but I did ask…on Twitter no less.

But yes, the stars are walking the Red Carpet and we are calling them like we see them. I was cool with it until I saw on Facebook last night this photo of the lovely Claire Danes with the caption,

Six weeks postpartum. Fuck you, Claire Danes. Fuck you.

What followed was 326 comments of nothing but snark and post-partum haters hating new mother Claire Danes for being a skinny woman just six weeks after birthing her baby boy. Soon followed the arguments that it was easy for her with an army of nannies, doctors, nutritionists, cooks and personal trainers…an army of them…as well as the fact that she was breastfeeding and she is a skinny bitch anyway. Then the counter arguments joined in pointing out through proper diet and exercise before during and after pregnancy or good genes or (glob forbid!) hard work we too can return to our pre-pregnant body just six weeks after giving birth!

Um yeah!

Oh the mommy hate was hot! Of course the intent of the original poster was sarcasm and humor, very snarky humor, because we mommies love snarky humor (especially when it is not directed at us) but it very much back-fired and a whole lot of mommies did get their panties all up in a wad.

Surprised?

Really?

I would have loved to join in offering my own opinions. I’ve been pregnant a few times and have given birth a few times as well. I wanted to offer that although it didn’t take me six weeks to lose the pregnancy weight…because it took more than six weeks to put it on…I did bounce back.

Take that the haters who proclaimed that I was going to get fat after I happily announced each pregnancy!

And double take that for making the same declarations when my first born daughter announced her own pregnancies!

I almost offered that I did bounce back to my pre-pregnant self…but I didn’t…bounce back to my pre-pregnant self…because I WAS pregnant. How could my body possibly morph back into a body that never, ever was pregnant when I was pregnant? I did indeed regain my shape, albeit a little curvier, but no, I did not get fat…sorry. But I, just like EVERY SINGLE WOMAN WHO HAS EVER BEEN PREGNANT AND HAS GIVEN BIRTH, did not return to the woman I was physically, mentally or emotionally before I was pregnant. I was changed, as is every other woman…just as is beautiful, skinnier-than-me Claire Danes.

Hate her dress.

Wonder what was up with her hair.

But mothers let’s not hate on the other mothers…whether they have the imagined army of nannies, doctors, dieticians, cooks and personal trainers, or wear their size 3 before baby skinny jeans home from the hospital while they cradle their beautiful newborn in their skinny arms or find theirselves counting Weight Watchers Points and squeezing into spanx and lycra’d yoga pants six or twelve or fifteen years after they gave birth to their baby. We did something pretty phenomenal and amazing…

we are so crafty…

we made people…

and we have the gorgeous bodies…

skinny, fat, curvy, straight, muscular…

to prove it.