Monday Musings: December is upon us

It is hard to believe that December is finally upon us.  I guess I can no longer avoid Christmas music or decorations now that we are less than three weeks until the big day.  My husband and I checked out our first Christmas-related events this past weekend, first, I swung by the Halifax Crafters market on Saturday where I picked up a few items from Emma Fitzgerald and Jane Rovers, swoon!  I first saw Emma's work at the Timeraiser event in Halifax - I bid on one of her pieces but, unfortunately, did not win.

Last night my husband and I headed downtown to St. Paul's Anglican Church where we were treated to Wassail - hosted by the Halifax Music Co-op.  The venue was quite magical on a dark, cold December evening.  The music was beautiful and energetic and finally put me in the Christmas mood.

So, the links I have for you tonight are not at all related to Christmas and have no common theme, but I hope you still find something worth reading.

Popsugar Fitness - Stuffed from too much stuffing?  Yoga poses to ease digestion

As you are all aware I am a huge yoga fan and someone who suffers from digestive issues.  I can attest to the validity of these claims and hope that when your special Christmas pants can no longer contain your holiday indulgences that you strike a pose.

Cookin' Canuck - How to Freeze Quinoa

After accidentally making about eight cups of quinoa I had no choice but to find a way to freeze this stuff. Her methods truly work and reheat no problem, so waste not!

Momma's Gone City - Hello, World

A few weeks ago Theo and Beau captured our hearts as photos of this adorable duo spread quickly across social media.  If you have not met these two you are in for a cuteness overload!  In this post blogger, Jessica, comments on the overwhelming response to the friendship between her two babies.

Run Like a Grl - Tips for Running in the Winter

Ever since I ran the MEC 5k at Shubie Park a few months ago I have been trying to get back into running.  I have been keeping things around 3k roughly three times a week to slowly build back my leg strength.  I have also been dragging the fur baby with me on these runs.  It is clear to me that Bernese Mountain Dogs were not born to run.  Hugo's technique includes lying down in the middle of the road and refusing to move.  Or only running for treats.  And only until you give him the treat. As the weather gets colder I am adding more and more layers to my running attire and dreaming of warmer days.  Although most of these tips are pretty straight forward, I would also agree that they are pretty bang on.  Especially thumb holes - these are essential!

Monday Musings: Thanksgiving Weekend

Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Canadians and Columbus Day to my American readers.  My husband and I celebrated with my family last week, which allowed us to spend quality with our fur baby this weekend. We spent most of our time doing yard work and hiking Cape Split with our little mountain dog.

Hugo absolutely loved the trail despite his exhaustion by the end.  He saw tons of squirrels, dogs, people and two horses and left completely content and muddy.

This has been the perfect holiday weekend in Nova Scotia; the weather was ideal for spending the days outside.

Here are my links for you this week ...

Girl Versus Dough - Pumpkin Coconut Yogurt Waffles

I made these for breakfast today with some leftover pumpkin from last weekend.  I did change up the recipe a little bit (substituting some protein powder instead of flour, peach yogurt instead of coconut yogurt), but these turned out absolutely amazing.  My husband ate six.  Love, love, love - would highly recommend that you try these!

PopSugar - Post Work Yoga Sequence Designed for Desk Dwellers

I bookmarked this one straight away given that I spend far too much time chained to a desk.  This will be extremely useful to me and likely to most of you.

Sarah Fit - Healthy Halloween Candy You Can Buy

I have yet to investigate the availability of some of these in Canada, but I am hoping that some have made their way up here so I can eat candy and feel a tiny bit less guilty!

Happy reading!

Lyndin

Food Gone Wild

WARNING:  This is an IBS-specific post, and may contain TMI - Too Much Information.

We have all been lead to assume that fruits, vegetables, lentils and whole grains are healthy and should represent a large portion of our diet.  I would also like to believe this is true, but, unfortunately, for some of us, this can run horribly awry in practice.

For the last few months I have had the sneaking suspicion that I have been heading toward a full-blown IBS episode. Firstly, as my episodes are normally about every two years or so, I am clearly due.  What tipped me off though were the minimum of seven to eight visits to the ladies room each day (double what I think of as normal) for the past eight weeks. I have had gas so badly that I have been unable to sit up straight at work and have been forced to drop everything, call a cab and head home to my magic bag on more than one occasion.  It has begun to affect my routines, my corn starch usage has gone through the roof and I cannot decide whether sitting or standing is preferable.

In an attempt to combat this I have tried a few things.  I had my first abdominal massage, I am now seeing a naturopath (the third in my lifetime).  I find myself agreeing to consume tinctures and Chinese herbs with names like bu zhong yi qi tang.  I have yet to try a rice water remedy that is supposed to help regulate me.

The likely question here is - is it something I'm eating?  I tried that experiment - I did the clean eating thing - I peeled and steamed my veg and fruit.  I ate lots of sugar-free applesauce and fruit cocktail (fresh fruit can be tricky for IBSers to digest).  I ate more fibre, I drank more water (more than my 3+ litres a day), I drank digestive teas, I did the digestive-friendly yoga poses and lots of yoga breathing.  The results?  It gave me the shits, like, have-the-flu kind of shits.

Upon realizing that this was not going according to plan I bought a lot of Boost and Gatorade (to help replace electrolytes).  On particularly high-pain days I have been drinking 1-3 Boost.  Some days I have a completely liquid day so it does not hurt quite so much by the time I hit number 8. On better days I have 1-2 Boost, applesauce, white bread with peanut butter and either more white bread, applesauce and an egg or grilled chicken with steamed broccoli.

However, a funny thing happened.  I went on vacation.  In the land of Olive Garden salad and bread sticks, pizza, fried food, dessert and alcohol.

Amazing milkshake at Duckfat in Portland, Maine

Aside from a little gas, I was at 1-2 washroom trips a day - without the big D and minimal amounts of pain!  I even hiked up several mountains at Acadia National Park without crapping my pants or popping a squat!  The only real side effects are my clogged arteries and the extra padding around my tush.

View from Acadia Mountain

Another beautiful view 

What does this mean?  It certainly goes to show that stress is the leading factor contributing to this IBS episode.  It also shows that when in an episode food can have little bearing on your symptoms.  So does this mean I plan to continue along this road to chunky town?  Definitely not.  Come hell or high water I am putting my fat pants away.  But, it does mean that as I go back on "real" food, life will be pretty awful, for quite awhile as my body gets used to trying to process fruits and vegetables.

As an IBS sufferer it is often difficult to choose the right foods because my reaction to the good food goes against everything I have been taught - from the food guide to my specialist, to all the health, fitness and wellness bloggers out there.  The healthy choice certainly feels pretty unhealthy to me as I have to go every hour, on the hour from the time I wake up.  It certainly feels unhealthy canceling appointments and making up excuses as to why I have to miss that meeting or have my colleagues believe that I really cannot shake that flu.  It is also really awkward dealing with the corn starch in a public restroom - all signs point to addiction.

So today, my first full day back from vacation I started off with my morning shake (Shakeology, cocoa powder, cinnamon, skim milk, peanut butter and banana baby food) and stuck to real food aside from my one ultra dark chocolate truffle and some butter on my white bread.  My body certainly cannot take whole wheat bread and vegetables all at once - one step at a time.  As I slowly, but surely trade in my fat pants for my skinny jeans, think of me, perpetually on the throne, in a cloud of corn starch.  Think of this as installment one in Food Gone Wild - an IBSer's tale of strange food choices, all in the name of the colon!

For those of you with digestive issues, I would love to hear if you have any recommendations!

And ... she's back!

It has been over two months since my last run, and yesterday my physiotherapist finally announced that I was allowed to run, with the following caveats:

- thou shalt not run on pavement
- thou shalt not run up hills
- thou shalt not run down hills
- thou shalt not use the elliptical on a run day
- thou shalt not cheat on the specified program (walk 5 minutes, run 1 minute, walk 1 minute, R 1 min, W 1 min, R 1 min, W 1 min, walk 5 minutes)
- thou shalt not exceed two runs in one week

So, with Salt n' Pepa telling me to Push It, I went out for my first "run".  Honestly, it felt good to get back out there, however, it was a bit anti-climactic in the sense that I would just start to run, and then suddenly that interval would be over.  The non-running-lover in me enjoyed the fact that it was not at all taxing, and that there was no need to contemplate a shower.  What I really enjoyed was getting my butt off the couch and back in motion; I have felt chained to my yoga mat and the stationery bike, so moving at a slow trot felt rather exhilarating.  Probably the best part of the whole thing is not a sound escaped from my bootylicious bottom, not even in the confines of the stairwell. Not one rumble was heard from my stomach, no moment of panic set in, and no 100 yard dash occurred to make it to the loo on time.

The only downside to my run was my pair of Run Inspire crops from Lululemon.  I bought these running capris back in April just as I injured myself, I wore them on my last run and was less than inspired.  I have done some yoga, elliptical, walking and biking in these, and really, they should be the Stationery Capri - mostly because one must remain more or less stationery in them.  Another name for them could be Moon Run, because of the fact that I moon innocent bystanders when I wear these performance inhibiting tights.  I was extremely frustrated as even at my sub-running pace, I had to exercise my right to hike that waistband while running in public.  Lock up your children, Running from the Runs is showing her buns!

Attitudes and egos should be checked at the door

It has now been 64 days since I injured the vast majority of my lower body.  As I have mentioned I have been seeing a physiotherapist twice a week for the past month and am slowly improving.  The verdict is that I tore my right hip flexor and strained both IT bands and both knees.  With all of this ground to cover she told me I better not injure my arms.  Similar to my last injury-related update, I can ride the recumbent bike, I am permitted to do yoga once a week and swim once a week (provided I do not do breaststroke or elementary backstroke).   The swimming is a recent development, so I have yet to hop in the pool, but am hoping to give it a whirl sometime this week.

My exercises are getting slightly more interesting – a few lunges, a few calf raises and my personal favourite – the balance board.  I have discovered the joy in outsmarting the balance board and found a way to do something productive and somewhat “active” while watching TV.  I recently went to Toronto to visit my brother, and was extremely apprehensive about being the loser who had to take a break while everyone else enjoyed walking around the zoo.  Luckily, I surprised myself with my impressive stamina.  I have now exceeded my 1k walking capabilities and can now walk 3k-5k depending on the day and how my legs are feeling.  This was quite a triumph for me and I was very relieved not to have to drag anyone down while on vacation.

Last week I went back to yoga for the first time, and I have to say, it was the first yoga class where I really understood the idea of not competing – with others, or, yourself.  I must have been pretty full of myself to think that I could get right back into it at the level I was at before.  Wrong.  So, so, so wrong.  I have never done a yoga class where I perceived my “performance” to be so poor.  Any posture that involved my legs pretty much hurt like hell.  Warriors?  Not quite, more like Gumby, if he was frozen.  Happy baby?  Definitely not, more like turtle on its shell.  Runners’ pose?  Ha!  What a cruel joke!  And, as always, the moment that I always dread – pigeon pose. 

The whole class felt like it was designed to inflict pain upon me and give me a reality check as to how far I have fallen.  However, as the class progressed and I could not help but ignore my different abilities, I had to just accept that my range of motion is not great.  I can now empathize with someone new to exercise or who possibly has arthritis.  Once I accepted that these were my current abilities, I stopped judging myself for my perceived shortcomings.  This was not an issue of trying harder; it was an issue of not being physically capable of doing more.  Upon acknowledging these facts I was able to look at what was most important – I showed up.  I showed up and I completed the class despite my heightened level of frustration.  When Yoga Wednesday rolls around this week I will definitely check my attitude and my ego at the door.  Yoga instructors are right – there really is no place for competition in your practice, doing your best with what you have is all that you can ask of yourself.  In the words of Miss Scarlett O’Hara: “after all, tomorrow is another day”. 

Me and my Tragically Hip

It has now been 22 days since I hurt my hip.  I have iced, I have heated, I have foam rolled, I have pill-popped, I have walked, I swam laps, I have rested, I have yoga-d.  I have been massaged, cracked, lasered and will soon have physio.  I have very little patience left.  In other words, I have not yet recovered from what we originally thought was bursitis, but what now appears to be a medical mystery.  I also regretfully acknowledge that it is unlikely that I will run or walk the Bluenose 10k on May 20.  I was given the go-ahead to attempt a run on Saturday; never in my life would I have expected to anticipate a run with such glee.  And instead of my usual “cursing out the run”, I cursed out my “tragically hip”.  (Tragically hip is the latest in a string of names that my husband uses to refer to me or my wide array of weird health issues.)  So, to say that the run was unsuccessful would be an understatement.  I started off sore and ended up far worse, to the point that I could no longer run, and barely walk to make it home.  And the total distance?  A whopping two kilometres.  My chiropractor suggested I rest this week, including no yoga.  I thought that yoga was resting!  I am going crazy here.  I negotiated with her and won the pleasure of riding the recumbent bike at the gym along with upper body weights.  Not the most exciting of prizes, but I will take it.

I realize that many runners face injuries, so, maybe this is just part of my path in learning how to run, however, I must say that I am pretty peeved about this whole affair.  I was not yet at the point where I enjoyed running, but, I was certainly noticing some progress, and that is pretty close to enjoyment.  I am extremely frustrated, however, I am trying to find some positives.  Running has actually been very rewarding thus far – I have slowly gained more control over my IBS.  It has been a long time since I mad-dashed to my apartment, or sounded like a band of trumpets while running down the street.  Running has introduced me to new communities both on and off-line and has helped me to bond with people in a way I did not expect.  It also fell upon my various running partners to get to know me in ways they never anticipated.  Few people can expect to “talk shit” quite literally with their running partner; they now have that claim to fame.  I have had responses from surprising corners regarding the blog and IBS in general.  It is very rewarding to hear that people can empathize with the situations that I encounter and that they are willing to connect with me to share their perspective.  Thanks to those who have been reading and thank you for connecting with me throughout this process.

I suppose the blog will have to focus a little less on the running part and more on the runs – much to your chagrin.  I will update you on the progress of my tragically hip; however, stay tuned as I begin to share some of my greatest moments as a girl with IBS.  Hopefully they will make you laugh; I can safely say they likely made me cry.  This is where you will really get to know about the glamorous life of poop-zilla.  So, get ready, because you will hear about my late arrival to my wedding, my close-call on my honeymoon while in Antibes, my very first camping trip, and of course, the Mexican hat incident of 2011. 

Yoga, a gaseous affair

WARNING:  This is an IBS-specific post, and may contain TMI - Too Much Information.  

Is it possible that I have found a subject perhaps even more taboo than the bowel movement?  A friend of mind confirmed today that yes, this is, in fact, the case.  Passing wind, tooting, farting, letting ‘er rip – all terms to refer to flatulence.  It is difficult to write a blog about IBS without ever touching on this subject matter.  So, I will be completely honest, on occasion, I toot.  I call it toot because it sounds a little more sophisticated than some of the alternatives listed above.  When you have IBS this can be one of the biggest, and most embarrassing, challenges you face.  We have all had that awkward situation where you are doing everything in your power not to do so.  You have also, no doubt, been in a situation where, horror upon horrors, one has escaped.  Extreme and utter embarrassment.  For some of us with IBS you go through bouts where you are gassier than others, for whatever reason – too much fibre, not enough fibre, not enough water, something you ate, too much air intake, stress, backed-up etc.  So, without further ado, I am going to tell you about my last yoga class…

As with any physical activity, I plan my meals ahead of time in order to facilitate full digestion.  Last Thursday I did exactly that, I had a 7:30pm yoga class, I got home from work at 5pm – this gave me two and a half hours to attain full digestion.  One would think this should be enough.  Please keep in mind, whenever I have a fitness activity I always eat something with very little fibre and arguably nutrients, basically, I choose straight white carbs because, for me, these are the most bowel friendly.  With this in mind, I ate two pieces of white toast with peanut butter.  But then I did something I should not have done.  Peanut Butter Captain Crunch – one of life’s greatest meals; I adore it so much that my American mother-in-law mails it to me because you cannot buy it in Canada.  In my heart I knew this would be a bad move, but there was exactly enough for one more bowl, I still had about two hours to go, so I ate it.  As I was leaving for yoga I started to realize that I would not be able to digest this meal, I tried several times to have poopy success, but, it was not to be.  With a feeling of impending doom, I left for yoga. 

Has any yoga instructor ever mentioned to you that certain poses help to facilitate digestion?  This is completely and utterly true.  It is also one of the last things you want to hear as you butt-clench your way through a yoga class, trying not to rip ass in the middle of all these zen-loving strangers.  Bearing this in mind, I would like to say that Yoga Thursday was one of the most uncomfortable experiences in recent life.  I felt ready to explode for the entire duration of class.  Gas can be manageable if you are doing poses like warrior, however, very difficult to ignore in child’s pose, or even worse, in downward dog.  In down dog you are in the perfect position to happily relax and let your body do exactly what you both want it to do – if you are in the comfort of your own home.  I managed to fare all right up until the superman pose where you lie on your stomach and float your legs/arms out behind you.  Essentially, you are rocking on your stomach; this is tantamount to becoming a human whoopi-cushion.  As I lay there trying not to rock I looked at the bum of the woman in front of me.  Unbeknownst to her, I was eyeing her rear end thinking, if I were to projectile vomit right now, it would definitely land on that bum.  Even worse would be projectile vomit coupled with one rip-roaring fart.  I obviously decided to stop the pose and just lay there.  Good life decision. 

I did manage to get through the whole yoga class without tooting, and I can honestly say that I have not done so in a class before.  I can also tell you that I wasted no time in getting myself to the safety zone outside my car, where with a great sense of relief I finally ripped one good under the cover of a darkened parking lot. 

What a pain in the ... bursa?

In recent weeks I have come to regard my 10k race as achievable, it is still extremely daunting, but I have acknowledged that I will be able to accomplish this.  A week or so ago I was able to fulfil my training requirements, exceed my own expectations, push through some plateaus and then bring my triumph to a screeching halt.  After two rest days it began to dawn on me that the pain I had been feeling was not, in fact, “the burn” that I attribute to exercising.  Instead, it is the pain of a premature geriatric.  You have all seen it, the hip swagger that is more of a stagger, the tentative shuffle, and … the waddle.  I injured my hip, and as a result, I no longer have the graceful run of a gazelle; I am full-on penguin.  It appears as though I have a case of bursitis, so I have been icing, stretching, and pill popping for over a week.  I can put in a valiant effort on a decent walk and I can suffer through some yoga, but I cannot run.  Yesterday I plunged into the pool for a long-overdue swim with the vain hope that it would help to calm things down, but, alas, it was not to be.  My 3.3k walk home probably did not help, and I am now wondering if the 60 flights of stairs I heaved myself up today were a bad idea.  So, as I write this I am covered in ice with pain pulsing from areas I did not know existed.  I believe this is where I make my bi-monthly emergency phone call to both my chiropractor and my massage therapist.  Every time I see my massage therapist she says “what did you do this time” and then “how did you manage to do that”.  I really have no idea.  She says I am overzealous, I say that I am trying not to wimp out; her recommendation is to strive to be about a notch below wimp so I can save myself some money.  Whenever I take up a new activity some sort of injury follows:

• pole dancing = lower back issues and bruised rib;
• running = shin splints and bursitis,
• ballroom dancing = stuck neck;
• yoga = muscle spasms;
• strawberry picking = muscle spasms in low back; and
• skiing = rotator cuff. 

Following all of these injuries my husband comes up with a new term of endearment for my injured body part, all of which appear to come from the menu at McDonald’s and/or KFC:  McRib, Chicken Wing (rotator cuff), Hoof (foot), and Drumstick (hip).  In conclusion, if you notice a lack of running-related commentary, it means I really did it this time; I finally injured my Biggie Fry. 

Getting up the gumption...

I have a confession, I was supposed to run yesterday and today, and was supposed to go to the gym at lunch on Thursday, but I did none of the above.   So, total runs this week?  Only one.  I ran 5.94 km at lunch on Tuesday.  I was actually very pleased with this result as it was my furthest distance to date and my first run in over a week.  I heaved and complained the whole way, but made it back in one piece, just in time to hit up the toilet.  

Now, as it is a long weekend I could feasibly run tonight and tomorrow at some point, but, honestly, my motivation levels have reached a new low.  The truth is that I have not felt motivated all week, whether it be to clean up the apartment, do the laundry or study for my accounting final.  For example, this morning I got up bright and early to go perform a wedding (I moonlight as a Justice of the Peace) and was home by 8:20 this morning.  Any normal person would have done something valuable with their time, but, not me.  I started off by eating breakfast and started my daily routine of email checking, blog checking, twitter checking and then suddenly it was noon-ish.  I must also acknowledge that I have discovered the magic of the internet; this has become a chronic problem since I began blogging.  I could have gone for a run this morning, but, my first excuse was that my ipod was not charged and today is a solo-run day.  I believe this is a very good excuse; running is still a cruel form of torture, so running in silence without Jon Bon helping me through it is absolutely, positively, out of the question.  However, without physically getting off my butt to check, I feel confident enough to say that the ipod is likely charged, so, running at this point would be within the realm of possibility.  What is my excuse now?  Writing this post.  So, with no additional runs to report, no bathroom emergencies shocking or funny enough to merit a post, what do I have to write about?  Nothing… and maybe everything.  For several months now I have been flip-flopping between highly-motivated and highly-unmotivated.  It is amazing how much you can get done when you have a little drive to peel your butt off the couch or out of bed, it is also just as amazing how much does not get done as soon as you make your couch your home.  I guess what I am saying is that sometimes I am just plain lazy and other times impressively motivated and efficient.  There are so many things I wanted to achieve this week:

• Unpack suitcases from last week’s trip (they were shoved in my closet to hide from party guests last weekend)
•  Fold my laundry (also a remnant from last weekend)
• Do the other piles of laundry that have accumulated
• Complete three additional runs this week
• Do two gym workouts
• Do one additional yoga workout (I did one, with a hilarious Irish woman leading the charge!)
• Do a couple sessions on the piano (the goal is to get back into playing again)
• Prepare to submit my applications for a couple of different Certificate in Public Relations programs (aiming for September 2013)
• Begin preparations to submit my writing to publications that people actually read
• Study for my accounting final (as you can see this is lower on the list than it should be)

The above is only the short-list of items to complete; I have a much longer list which essentially consists of organizing and purging my home.   I am hoping by writing this down I will feel more accountable and actually complete some, or maybe all, of these tasks.  But, what I am really looking for are ideas … 

• What motivates you?
• How do you stay motivated?
• What keeps you organized?

For those of you with children, I am in awe; I do not know how you do it.  I am looking to find a way out of my rut, I dream of my more efficient days, they did exist, I promise you they did, but I look back on those days as fond memories and fantasize about what my future could hold if I could only get up the gumption and get ‘er done. 

No regrets

I just got back from a very rewarding run, we exceeded our own expectations and I think we managed to push ourselves more than we have in the past.  I certainly was not expecting tonight’s run to be overly successful – we had an extremely poor performance yesterday, we lasted only about 3:40.  Unfortunately, you read that right.  What was supposed to be a run turned into a walk, and we have chalked it up to being a case of the Sundays.  We have such a poor performance record for Sunday runs that we have sworn off any future Sunday training days, it just never ends well. 

Today at work, when lunch rolled around I decided to avoid the cold weather by doing some stairs in my office tower.  After several weeks of running I expected myself to be half decent, but, boy, was I surprised.  It was a staggeringly awful performance.  I only managed to complete 2 x 8 up and 2 x 8 down, for a total of 32 flights. I started off rather ambitiously trying to at least jog up the stairs, but after only two sets of stairs I thought I might just tumble backwards to my death.  With that, I walked the rest of the way.  I found it so difficult that I had to run back to my desk for a water bottle after the first set.  Then, I repeated it all again, and as my jello-legs carried me back down to my floor, I decided I had had enough.  This is the truly shocking part – all of this only took about 4:30.  How embarrassing.  So, as I headed back to my desk, beet red, I grabbed my yoga mat and an empty office and stretched out.  Never before have I seen my legs shake that much doing a down dog or a sun salutation.  Today’s lesson: I must do more stair training.  Never have I been so fearful of meeting someone in a stairwell, I must do better, if only to repair my bruised ego. 

Given my lunch-time experiment, you can see why I was not looking forward to the run, the stairs had taken the wind out of my sails, or at the very least, out of my lungs, and I did not relish the thought of moving in a way that resembled speedy, if at all.  My husband called to check in while he was at work; I told him I was going for a run, but that I did not want to go, that I thought I would only be able to last about two minutes.  He very wisely told me that I should go, because at no point in time will I regret going for a run.  As much as I hate to admit it when he is right, he was right.  And now I have it permanently recorded in the black hole that is the internet…   So, with this advice in mind, I met up with my running partner and we decided to try something new – just run and see what happened and how long we lasted.  What a brainwave!  The first round we lasted approximately 11:24, followed by a bathroom interlude where he so kindly wandered around the neighbourhood until I could rejoin him.  For round two I believe we lasted an impressive 13:43, followed by no bathroom break!  We capped it off with one last kick at the can and clocked in at 9:25.  So we were pretty close to our six sets of six, and we covered somewhere in the region of 5-6k. It was much more enjoyable because we weren’t waiting longingly for the sound we covet so much – the alarm ringing in break-time.  I was anticipating an extremely cold temperature given the windchill, but it was actually quite nice, so much so that my visit to the bathroom provided the perfect opportunity to shed both my gloves and my scarf.  It even started to snow and lightly coat the ground, it looked almost magical.  So, there you have it, I do not in any way regret the run, and my husband was right for the first time in our marriage.  

Here is a shot from our Sunday run...

It appears as though there might be an issue in this area of the city.

You can barely tell, but it is just starting to snow.

I felt exactly like this shopping cart by the end of our excursion.