My Dog is a Recoverite Addict

It's true. At first it was gentle curiosity, then it was an expectant glance, then it morphed into giddy trots into the kitchen after our run. But now it's evolved into demanding whines directed at my water bottle, and impatient barks on the rare occasion when I am not mixing it fast enough.

Recoverite is - as the name implies - a recovery drink with the proper 3:1 carbohydrate to protein ratio perfect for fixing damage done during workouts. It's made by our friends at Hammer Nutrition. I love this company; not only do they make great products but they also offer incentives to recruit new athletes into the fold. Brilliant marketing. Oh, and one of their products is named after a favorite line from So I Married an Axe Murderer....HEED! This evokes fond memories of the film, as well as memories of our cadre of friends using this to describe our young Cameron's noggin...which I am pleased to report is now the perfect size for his 6-year old frame (but as an infant, was the same size as an adult HEED!)

So either Tilley likes the taste, or has really listened to me blather on about the merits of recovery nutrition and hydration. I really think I saw her stretching the other day as we waitied for the gate to open after our run, so maybe she does hear me after all.

I Could NOT Be More Grossed Out

It all started as a fairy tale that all the girly sporting clan followed to some degree. Lance met Kristin when he was working in the early days as a cancer survivor to build the then-nascent, pre-yellow-armbands, pre-Livestrong version of the Lance Armstrong Foundation.

The fairy tale continued through many Tour de France victories, a son, and twin girls.

And then they broke up. Everyone was crushed.

It was only mildly palatable when Lance then swapped in Sheryl Crow, as she's a little edgey and - much to my pleasure - brought a more progressive bent to the admittedly rabidly conservative Texan. JoMarie and I had to suffer through throngs of people during the Tour De Georgia, however, who were there to see Her and didn't seem to know that a bike race was going on, and would have walked past George Hincapie and Johan Bruyneel without a glance. Not would have, did.

We collectively mused at how Lance definitely has a "type" - long, blond hair; his Kristin looked like his Mom, Sheryl looked like Kristin, and so on. Our group held a mild disdain but tolerance for their relationship, since it survived a few of us meeting Lance on various occasions (NYC, DC), and there was no sweeping off of any feet, in any direction. Unidirectional swooning yes, sweeping no.

And then they, too, broke up.

Hopes soared when what to our wondering eyes should appear...but the confluence of Armstrong and McConaughey!

It appeared that Lance was on the market, training for a marathon able to be ogled, and with one of our favorite hotties along for the ride.

The ride would turn out to be a slippery slope...reports from the party scenes coast to coast made the news.

Now, I almost can't even write it, but Lance has chosen a real winner. Who could it be?

Someone who shares his rabid athleticism?

Someone who has the same sharp wit and wisdom and commitment to philanthropy?

Someone who - like Lance - has eluded to aspirations of running for political office?

HELL NO.

ASHLEY FRICKING OLSON.

NOOOOOOOOO!!!

Yesss, that's right, one of the pair of once-precocious now-skanky darlings of Hollywood and NYC. Seen. Necking. In a bar. With Lance.

I don't know what's more mortifying, the fact that she's barely legal, the fact that she's annoying, the fact that she and her sister have built a branded empire (movies, clothing, television, lip gloss, you name it...), the fact that she's skanky, or the fact that she was in diapers when Lance was winning his Junior triathlon title. Twenty years ago.

All I know is it's just WRONG. Lance, how could you????

Everyone Gets Their Workout In

Saturday was girls' day at Columns Drive. Run day. After having gone to a killer spin class with John Friday night, followed by Mr. Taco, I was reaaaally curious to see how the run would go. Not skeptical, just curious. Off we went.

Dottie and Tilley
The first stint was for me and Tilley. We headed out in a reverse loop on the river, and had a nice loop despite Tilley's run in with the Bear. A large fuzzy black dog (not a chow, not sure what it was), Tilley swore it was a black bear. She finally got past it on the trail after a brief freak-out. After 3.3 miles, it was time to let Tilley hang in the car with Laika.

Dottie
I headed out onto Columns proper, and kinda kept going and going for another 1.4 miles. YES! 4 mile barrier, SOUNDLY broken! SMACK.

Laika
Now it was Laika's turn...I picked up the girls and we set off walking towards the river. At some point, Laika started trotting, then running, so off we went. We probably did about a third of a mile or more and she was alllllllll smiles, bless her little almost-18-year-old heart! We came back towards the car and again, RRRK! This time from Laika, who said she "had more to give" ...so off we went down the trail for a bit and snapped a few pics until the sun dropped down and forced us to retreat to the warm truck.

All in all a great afternoon - and everyone got their workout in :)

Frost on the Kudzu

So throughout the years I have seen a lot of kudzu. Growing up in the South, it's pretty ubiquitous, but I hadn't really been close to it all that much. There's a good bit on one of my frequent run routes, and I was pleased to note this summer that it flowers with beautiful purple blooms. Apparently not just a monster that would inevitably grow over and eat us all, as I had grown up fearing.

Today, coldest day of the year so far, a brisk 32 degrees. Tilley and I gathered our gear and headed out. Sadly I couldn't find my favorite blue running gloves and improvised with a pair of fuzzy black socks. What the hell; they look like mittens to me. We headed out and there was actually frost on the ground! The kudzu now looked much like the cover of the first studio release of that little band form Athens. Apparently the kudzu wasn't a fan; it was bowed and wilted and looked rather sad; another summer's efforts of growing to overtake the world, thwarted again until the spring.

We ran out towards Willeo but as we got to the turnaround my lungs felt about the size of two key limes. So we turned around early. On the way back I let Tilley's leash go along the river and she found a sandy stretch and FREAKED out, spinning and running in circles as if to say MOM LOOK THE BEACH - REALLY IT IS THE BEACH I THINK!

We started to pass by the apartment to add on some distance (now that my lungs were warm) and RRRRRK!! Tilley stops. I tug. She tugs. I tug again. This goes on long enough that a car inching by in traffic rolls down the window to say "I think she's done!" I explained that she didn't get that we turned around early. Finally she sees another dog and is like, ok ok. So we ran to the other park and back, then had some nice stretching and Recoverite in the den. At one point she attacked me so feverishly with kisses that I actually had time to grab my cell phone off the coffee table and get this shot. My face looks like that because a) I am laughing hysterically but b) trying to seal off as many facial orifices as possible to protect against a Tilley Tongue Invasion. She's particularly fond of the nostrils.

I Think I'm In Love (or high on endorphins)

They say sometimes "when you know, you know". "Once you stop looking, you will find the right person". "Don't settle".

I had dated around. Been to a few. Tried a few out. Had a few laughs.

And then it happened.

I was going to see someone else entirely, but they couldn't make it. It was fate! It started the same way, idle chatter, warming up...then it hit me.

This was different.

The way it built up slowly, rose to intensity, and then slowed down again just long enough to let me recover and then BAM took my breath away again! It wasn't just random up and down like the others. This was the real deal. The tempo, the music, the mood, it was all perfect.

At the end, finally the sharing of a name.

Mila!

So THIS was the person I had heard was a kickass spin instructor! THIS is the triathlete who gets it! THIS is the woman I will haul my cookies out of bed for!

Ahhh, love! Ain't it grand???

Itch: Partially Scratched

So it's fall now, at last. I say at last because on St. Simons, there's not that much of a sense of it. Here, there is...the familiar clarity of the air, the crunch underfoot, the briskness of it all. Fold into that a vague sense of nostalgia and a desire to eat more than normal, and that captures it. In keeping with this theme, I was inpsired last night by a recent post on Dying Water Buffalo's site where she biked up to an orchard outside NYC with friends and enjoyed fresh-baked goodies, then schlepped the loot back via tri bike. On the one hand I was cranky because I thought, that's a pipe dream for me now on several levels - but on the other hand it made me really stoked to get out today for a nice long ride, even if it was sans orchards and sans pals.

But wait! This morning post-cereal, my friend Cathy rang up and said she and her family were going...up to the GA mountains to the apple orchards! Was this fate or what? I backpedaled mentally a bit thinking, this will take the day am I okay with losing my bike? After some quick online research, I had a breakthrough. So simple! I would drive seperately, take my bike, and THEN ride after the hoopla on my own! I was so excited about it I was almost giddy on the way up.


We went Northeast to Ellijay and stopped at the orchard (one of like 11 on that road alone) advertising such enticements as a petting zoo and a tractor ride! Sign us up. After a Hillcrest Orchards lunch (chili dog, thank you!) we strolled around the grounds and the petting zoo and then had a tractor ride through the orchards, which oddly featured a forest portion with some Wizard of Oz characters and some really random mannequins including someone on a hybrid bike. Still not really sure what all that was about :)



Afterwards, it was time to SHOP. I bought a full peck of apples (I think of Granny every time I say the word "peck", and in fact saw someone bearing her likeness there), which in my case contained Mutsu apples, Pink Lady apples, and a few sweet potatoes for good measure (who knew?). Did it stop there? Ooooo, no. Using John as a ruse I decided to also opt for the apple cider donuts (mmhllmlmlmlhjmlllhhmm) and an apple cake - the latter of which I didn't sample but went on faith and the assumption that something called apple cake that brown and that heavy HAD to be good (I was right, for the record).

I parted ways with my fellow travellers and headed merrily towards the bike shop, the ride start for the route I found online. Neeeeever found it. Not to be deterred, I finally found part of the route on my cue sheet and thought, np problem, I will just find a spot to park along here and all will be fine. Turns out the route was total crap...totally narrow, totally winding, and totally not going to be ridden by me alone. It was sketchy enough to doubt doing it with friends, but without someone to assist if I hit a marmot or something, no thanks. So to console myself I went to the "11 VARIETIES OF FRIED PIES!" stop and bought 5. And Apple Butter. And Muscadine and Scuppernong cider. But don't worry, I only had 3/4 of one pie. I am glad I got them because as it turns out, John had never had a fried fruit pie. And I still married him! (and Granny, if they have Internet in heaven, please note I did get him a Peach one, but no doubt not as good as yours)

So, itch partially scratched. Apples and lots of sugar in our kitchen. But what about that bike. I'll tell you exactly what... it's going to be 75 tomorrow. I will be going in early and leaving early for an attempt at retribution, even if it's on Riverside Drive.

Saturday Family (not so) Long Run

Beautiful October Saturday at the Chattahoochee. Met John there with the girls for a quick walk, then a run out (whilst Laika "rested" in the truck)...John doubled back for Laika while Tilley and I went to the trail's end and back, then a family walk along the river (including one incident of Tilley jumping in before she realized it was deep, and a quick jump out again). Nice day to be out; met some other nice pups including a young and an old Golden, perfect timing to celebrate the arrival of cousin Max to the Little Hodges in Lexington. Apparently the dog is already a true Hodges; rather than soiling his travel crate he deftly, gingerly placed two small poops...into an empty food dish clipped to the cage interior.

And by the way, went out to do 4 but ended up with 3.26.