catheroominations

This morning I got up at o’dark thirty to do a trial workout with Team in Training. I haven’t had any flare-ups of my psoriatic arthritis for a couple of years, and I think I am done with ingrown toenails so now I really want to try and do a half marathon. Joining Team in Training (abbreviated as TNT, rather than tea-eye-tea for obvious reasons) will allow me to train correctly for a race, while raising money for Leukemia and Lymphoma research. Today was the first long run of the winter season, so I thought I’d check it out.

The captains separated everyone into groups and we had our choice of how far we wanted to run and what interval we wanted to do. I chose to run three miles, doing the run two minutes, walk one minute interval since I’m just getting back into the running thing. I aligned myself with some women who also looked new, and would hopefully not smoke me on the trail. I was able to keep an even pace, and talk during the running portions. When the three miles were over, I thought “that wasn’t so bad.” So, my race on Thanksgiving should be a piece of cake, since it’s just a 5K.

While we were on our run, one of the mentors was telling me how to avoid that second day soreness. She recommended ice baths. GAH! To me, a soak in the tub should be relaxing, warm, and comforting. But I will try anything if it means I can avoid the inability to sit down like a normal person. So when I got home, I put on my bathing suit, a sweatshirt and a scarf and ran the cold water into the bathtub. I went to the freezer and pulled out the tray of cubes from the ice maker. Daphne came into the bathroom, as she usually does int he mornings, when I am getting ready. She was sniffing around, looking for spiders to kill, and thought there might be one hiding the the bathtub. So, just like every other day, she jumped into the tub to investigate.

Poor Daph instantly tried to jump back out, but unable to grasp hold to anything with her claws, she was slipping and sliding and splashing water everywhere. She managed to fling herself out of the chilly water and make spastic puddles on the bathroom floor while making her tasmanian devilesque exit. I was howling with laughter and Matte could hear it, but didn’t know what had me going, until he saw the rabid and pissed off kitty fly into the living room.

The ice bath wasn’t so bad, actually. Yes, it was freezing, but it was also hilarious. Me in the tub bundled up in a sweatshirt, drinking a cup of hot cinnamon tea, while shivering and reading the Johnny-Depp-as-Sweeney-Todd cover story inEntertainment Weekly.

I think the frigid dip in the tub was less traumatic for me than it was for Daphne. But at least her muscles won’t be sore either.

My sister is a pastry chef. She makes cupcakes from scratch and decorates them with homemade icing to look like this:

Those are meringue sticks on top. Oh, and jimmies. Also, she added a light dusting of cocoa.

I am not a pastry chef. I make one cupcake (a huge one) from a box of mix and decorate it with Pillsbury frosting in a can to make it look like this:

Those are m&ms on top. Not the mini-sized ones. Those are full-sized m&ms. That is a dinner plate holding the cupcake.

My sister has a degree from the California Culinary Academy.
I have a book called Cooking for Dummies that my mom bought me.

My sister has taught cooking classes, and once assisted Martin Yan when he taught a class.
I like to watch the Food Network.

In her job, my sister got to meet Bono and Bill Clinton.
In my job, I got to meet the guy who delivers our office supplies.

My sister will soon start a new job, working under a former Top Chef contestant.
I like to watch Top Chef.

My sister is a professional. She bakes sober. And as such, her cupcakes rock.
Despite the warning “Don’t drink and bake”*, I plan to do just that tomorrow with Stacy and McGee and some other fabulous ladies who do not heed our governor’s advice. Perhaps some alcohol will reveal my hidden talents?

*In what movie was that line spoken?

I wasn’t going to.
I said I wouldn’t this year.
But.
I’ve gone and done it again.*

I have been uninspired to blog lately so I figured participating in NaBloPoMo would give me reason to post. Surely something will spark a post every single day for the next 30. Oy. I had planned to skip this year because I don’t want to post something just to post something. I don’t want to put up crap just to stick to my commitment to post every friggin’ single day. I do hope I won’t be posting about daily earthquakes, since I felt a noticeable aftershock yesterday around 4 pm. Yeah, we can be done with the earth shaking now, mmmkay?

Maybe I’ll write about my time on the treadmill on a given day, because that is riveting to read about, I know. But if my toes can avoid an arthritis attack, I should be good for my first race in 2 years on Thanksgiving morning. I didn’t sign up and pay $35 for the charity aspect, or for the camaraderie of running in a pack, or for health reasons. No. It’s about eating pumpkin pie with no guilt.

Blog posts this month might include a lot of complaining about having to think of something to write every day. I don’t want to resort to describing what I ate for lunch, or what color my socks are. I won’t resort to posting my grocery list or recount what cute thing my cat did that day (unless it’s even cuter than this).

Yes, it’s going to be a long month, people.

*Name the movie that quote is from.