Look closely. Do you see what I see? Not the tree. That's boring. See the droplets? They're coming from the icicle - the icicles on my roof melted!
Praise God, spring is here!
The temperatures soared today and I officially can no longer leave my groceries in the car while I go to the gym. The whole car = refrigerator thing is the best part of winter in my book.
The colors in the photo have been changed to protect the innocent. Wouldn't want to go blinding you with my pasty white feet. And yes, I know I need a pedicure. The thing is pedicures around here cost right around the same price as a week's worth of groceries so I'm saving my beloved gift certificate for April.
Again, the colors have been removed to protect your delicate retinas.
Let's have a quick discussion about why my shoulder is almost transparent. It hasn't seen the light of day since September. It's been covered in long sleeves, sweaters, parkas and scarves for months. Frankly, it is amazing that my poor shoulder hasn't suffocated or just peeled right off from oxygen deprivation.
But not today! Today, I put on a tank top after work. Let there be light! Let there be air!
Sometimes it's the little things in life...
Guess what other fun thing happened today? New purple running shoes.
As it turns out, training for a half marathon in old, bald and poorly fit running shoes is not condusive to healthy shins and knees. Let's be honest, running is hard. Obviously it is physically challenging. Even more so, it is mentally challenging. You have to overcome your fear of failure, you have to overcome the boredom of a treadmill (when it is icy outside), you have to overcome your laziness. Physically, you have to eat right, stay hydrated, avoid injury and push your muscles past the comfort zone. I felt my first taste of shin splints last night and was sure that my leg was on fire. I wouldn't have been the least bit surprised to look down and see a bulging red blister boiling just below my knee. A quick text to my marathon-running dad and the shin splints diagnosis was confirmed. I needed new shoes.
In fancy running stores they look at your feet and watch you walk before they fit you for new shoes. The wonderful woman at the running store today cringed, literally, when she saw the arch of my foot. Then she had to turn her head away as she gagged from watching my leg contort and hearing the crunching noise when I showed her a bare-footed lunge. I believe her exact words were "crash and burn." Apparently your leg isn't supposed to bend inward the way mine does. Lucky for me, a sweet new pair of shoes with a nice high arch realigned my twisted legs and should solve my problems. The arch and twisted leg problems, I mean. There is no cure for insanity.
Or so I'm told.