HOW TO ADULT:

1. Get an estimate to have the ugly, bubbly rust on your car repaired
2. Contain your flinching instinct when you get the original ballpark number
3. Head from there to get your oil changed
4. Remember to bring your coupon
5. Refrain from awkwardly flirting with the nerdy straight guy with the ugly shoes in the waiting room
6. Refrain from super-embarrassingly giggling and flipping your hair when you talk to the super-cute guy behind the counter
7. Head from there to the gym for the first time in over two months
8. Make up for all that lost time and all those atrophied muscles in one workout*
9. Sign an international supermodel contract*
10. Read the fine print

* delusions may vary

Yesterday marked an unholy confluence of events that in the mortal world happen only on a frustratingly mismatched timeframe:

I ran out of pre-workout shake mix and post-workout recovery shake mix ON. THE. SAME. DAY.

Fortunately, I've recently purchased two exciting new products that are just waiting for their turn to jump into the rotation ... though never in their wildest dreams did they think they'd do it together. I took a new-family photo* this morning with an artfully tipped shaker bottle for context and an apple because there was one sitting there and it seemed like a healthy (and shiny!) prop.

Anywho, I'm about to chug my first shaker of Beyond Raw LIT Clinically Dosed Pre-Workout in an exciting flavor called Icy Fireworks, which are two words that separately could be horrible ways to die but together I hope taste like Awesome.

Then I'll chug GNC AMP Wheybolic Clinically Proven Performance Protein to recover from my LIT-fueled workout.

THEN I'LL BE HUUUUUUUUGE! Please enlarge your doorways if you want me to visit.

*Slightly bumpy apple and nicked-up shaker bottle sold separately.

An ode to a visit from the polar vortex

Little Mary donned her skates

Upon the ice so frisk.

Wasn’t she a silly lass

Her little *?

Things I’ve accomplished today:

• Had my first formal voice lesson in 30 years, and already determined some bad habits I can start working on unlearning
• Went to Target and bought only what was on my list
• Did my first leg workout since I started running last spring ... and freaking KILLED my legs without sacrificing proper form
• Accepted a very romantic marriage proposal from one of my 934 freakishly hunky gym crushes as all the rest of the guys in the gym struggled to mask their jealousy through forced smiles and wan applause*
• Attended a Full Monty line bash where I remembered more of my lines than I’d expected
• Sat down and actually played the piano for the first time in months as an overture (for lack of a less obvious metaphor) to my New Year’s resolution to practice with specific regularity
• Made it to my 11th day without having Diet Coke
• Wrote a blog post that doesn’t use the word “boobies”
• Oops
• Didn’t kill anyone intentionally
• Did some laundry without expecting a gold star on my chores chart
• Boobies
• Oops again

* This one is a total fucking lie

The last time I’ll pin a racing bib to my Summer Of Running Away From Being 50 shirt*

The last half marathon I’ll probably ever run, unless I have a tidal change of heart—and knee pain. Hopefully the last time I’ll compulsively eat like I’m running 20+ miles a week.

4:00 am alarm.

4:30 am bus.

5:30 am gun.

13.1 miles.

LET’S. MAKE. THIS. HAPPEN.

*Plastic “Wishing Star” not included in race. It was a little souvenir given to me for no discernible reason at our Cinderella’s Castle dinner. I put it in this traditional pre-race race-outfit photo to add a literal glimmer of Disney sparkle.

#HowToTurn50

ACA-DON'TTHINKSO!

Not only 1) do the two (2) tickets to Pitch Perfect 3 (Three) that I bought with my handsome man-date last weekend earn us only 1 (one) "free" pin set, but 2) that little asterisk after "Free" (fthree) means one (1) of us needs to cough up $6.95 ($6.95) for shipping, PLUS (+) THERE'S NO PICTURE OF THE ALLEGED PIN SET IN THIS EMAIL so they could be a rusty, typhoid-covered safety (+) pins for all we know, AND ('n') WHAT THE HELL IS UP WITH THAT DYSLEXIA SALAD OF A REDEMPTION CODE (Achoo!)?

"Gift" my aca-ss.