tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44362061842848114072024-03-05T08:07:48.698-08:00"Someday" Never ComesAmy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.comBlogger153125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-52284731016384324672012-09-19T13:36:00.000-07:002012-09-19T13:36:05.382-07:00The Five<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I've been focusing all my emotional efforts recently into being a
sane person. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Do y’all ever go through times when that seems like an almost
insurmountable task? Like, you know you’re on the verge of just being a normal,
content, fulfilled person, but that edge is driving you insane. That is me.
That is my life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">So I’ve been journaling like mad. I am an indiscriminate
journaler. I will journal on any piece of paper, napkin, gum wrapper or old box
I can scrawl on. I’ve been very specific about what I write, too. I’ve given
myself parameters so I won’t even waste any time journaling thoughts I’m trying
to get rid of anyway. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I journal “The Five” and “His Five.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“The Five” are the five things I’m most grateful for that day.
They can be ANYTHING. This morning I journaled that I was thankful Benny’s leg
wasn’t permanently damaged when I accidentally shut it in a door yesterday. I
journaled that because I’m SERIOUSLY thankful Benny’s leg wasn’t permanently
damaged when I accidentally shut it in a door yesterday. (By the way, damn that
dog is a drama queen.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“His Five” are the five things I’m most grateful for about Noel
that day. This list can also contain anything. I journaled this morning that I’m
thankful he has good hair. Don’t judge my list. I said I can journal whatever I
want.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Anyway, this is all in an attempt to slow down and appreciate
everything I have, which is enough. I am tired of always wanting. I want to not
want anymore. Journaling helps me refocus and literally see the things I have
that make me most happy on a daily basis. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I also journaled that I was thankful for sparkling shiraz while
watching “Something’s Gotta Give.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Don’t judge my list I said!</span><span style="font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-45259241850475836222012-09-13T11:19:00.001-07:002012-09-13T11:19:06.549-07:00Dreamy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfvqVC1pgCEml8NXlTlYMg2nCWJ9vXDSihEX6JElGLw4CGgoBtevMBooZZkTHRd3bWZJRCP6INNb5YH5Gnof5YT8NGaSvnyt4a0L05Rltv_rznzSjmlEiw098baK1gYyKSXz_KpzrpYho/s1600/me+and+noel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfvqVC1pgCEml8NXlTlYMg2nCWJ9vXDSihEX6JElGLw4CGgoBtevMBooZZkTHRd3bWZJRCP6INNb5YH5Gnof5YT8NGaSvnyt4a0L05Rltv_rznzSjmlEiw098baK1gYyKSXz_KpzrpYho/s640/me+and+noel.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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He seriously is the best man ever. :)Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-91851792221280521202012-09-12T11:35:00.002-07:002012-09-12T11:35:33.646-07:00Swingin'<br />
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Getting back in the swing of things is never easy. Ever.
Sometimes the idea of it is fun, til you realize the idea is much different
than the reality. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Still, I find myself ever-attempting to get back into the
swing of things, even if I haven’t been on that swing since…college? Since I
had summers off and only went to school 4 days a week for 4 hours at a time? <o:p></o:p></div>
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…Actually, I can guarantee that most of them time when I
think about getting back into a set routine, that routine never even existed in
the first place. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I was a lot more active about 4 years ago because I had a
lot more time on my hands. I cooked a lot more. I slept a lot more. I hung out
with friends A LOT more. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The saying is true – so much to do, so little time. I can’t
tell you how many times a day I wish I had more time in a day. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I want to work, hard. I want to be known as someone who gets
stuff done, and who gets things taken care of. I want to get to work early and leave
work late. (Is anyone else hearing “Short Skirt/Long Jacket” by Cake in their
heads right now?)<o:p></o:p></div>
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I want to be a machine in the gym and on the track. I want
to alternate between looking like a Victoria’s Secret swimsuit model and
Jillian Michael’s at her most ripped. I want to run 50 miles a week and do yoga
every day. In fact, I’d really like to be a fitness instructor and maybe a
personal trainer and how bout a life coach as well?<o:p></o:p></div>
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I want to be best friends with everyone. I want to go to
happy hours every day, have long brunches every Saturday and Sunday. I want to
host birthday parties and showers. I want to buy all my people lots and lots of
presents. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And I want to be the best girlfriend to my best boyfriend
every hour, of every second, of every last day. <o:p></o:p></div>
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But, this just isn’t reality. As much as I want THIS all to
be my swing, it’s not manageable. Things have to get dropped, people’s parties
have to get skipped, money has to be saved, nights of rest have to replace
nights of running, and yoga just never, ever gets done. <o:p></o:p></div>
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So what IS the swing I’m trying to get in to? What IS
manageable? <o:p></o:p></div>
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I can work, hard, during the hours of work. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I can run, for an hour, a few times a week. I can lift
weights and spin a couple other times a week. Yoga…still probably won’t get
done. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I can hang out with friends a few times a week. I can see my
boyfriend a few times a week. I can give 100% of me to these outings/innings
because these are the people who revive and refresh my spirit. I can “show up,”
not dial it in, not let the complaints and annoyances of every day life (Traffic?
Weariness?) even come up in conversation. I can save my best for my loved ones.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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I can focus on contentment. I can believe that “Gratitude
turns everything I have into enough.” I don’t have it all, I don’t have enough
time, but I have enough time to make my days and my weeks exactly as they
should be. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Gratitude and contentment. These are the swings I’m getting
back into…or maybe just really getting into for the first time ever. <o:p></o:p></div>
Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-34180378744532975752012-05-31T08:03:00.000-07:002012-05-31T08:03:51.849-07:00Try.<br />
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I’ve been dealing with a nasty undercurrent of emotion
lately, and I’m sick of it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It’s called dread. Heard of it? Felt it? It’s been a subtle buzz
in my worklife for quite a while now, and I know it’s having destructive
effects on my mind, heart and body. <o:p></o:p></div>
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There are a couple people I dread interacting with. Their demeanors,
their tones, their energies – I negatively anticipate my next encounter with
them. <o:p></o:p></div>
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There are work situations I dread being a part of. I hate
the work, I don’t believe in the cause, I can’t stand the dysfunctionality. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m sure at this point you’re dreading reading any further,
too. Now you know how I feel A LOT of the time. <o:p></o:p></div>
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How terrible is this? My life is arguably the best it’s been
in…forever. For as long as I can remember, I’ve never felt like so cared for and
loved. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Why is work getting
to me like this?<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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The conclusion I’ve known all along, and the solution I’ve come
to, is that my emotions are in my control. Dread doesn’t “happen” to people. It’s
a choice, a pair of emotional Spanx I choose to put on everyday that restrict
my joy and positive outlook. Knowing this, though, hasn’t produced positive
action yet. I see the problem, and I see the answer, and I just sit there and
look at both of them, all of us at an impasse. In the meantime, my patience,
joy, love and gratitude are slowly slipping away. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Enough</b>. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Time to stop beating myself up for feeling this negative
emotion. Time to accept this is how I feel, love myself through it, give it Up,
and move toward strength and healing as a result. This is the gameplan.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In other news, I’m doing my first triathlon this weekend! I
have NO idea what I’m doing – signed up on a whim. It’s a super sprint, so 600
yds swimming, 11 miles biking, and a 5k. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I know it won’t be easy. Nothing important is ever as easy
as “Ready, Set, Go” without some serious mental, emotional preparation, but
sometimes the best way to get started is just to commit. I can sit around all
day and see my current skill set and see where I’d like to be, all of me at an
impasse. But nothing’s going to change unless I do, and therein lies the fear…and
the answer. <o:p></o:p></div>
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All I can do with this tri is love myself at each twist and
turn, knowing I’m doing the best that I can. <o:p></o:p></div>
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All I can do at work is try – let go of the dread, relax the
clenched fists, keep my head up and give this life – even the 6:30 to 3:30
portion of it – my all. <o:p></o:p></div>
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All I can do is try. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Try.</div>
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<br />Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-47893651161655942352012-05-11T11:22:00.001-07:002012-05-11T11:22:15.660-07:00FlorenceI remember the first day I listened to Florence and the Machine. I was on a hot, hot run, and I was intermittently running, walking, crying, and gasping through downtown Houston. It was not during the healthiest, happiest time in my life. Little did I know, though, that her little album there was going to play a huge part in bringing about happiness and health in my life in the coming months after that run...<br />
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A couple weeks ago Florence came to town. No way I was going to miss her, not with the kind of influence she's been in my life this last year.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbVc91huaSyxX0TXULLUykH-cgGgrcEJsrtPQ7u4ixonyoZqfD_KlqocX-DgkVY_cCjovxnrbTdHCRFv7omLx_LheDozdsqd7SJKFlrXPuM4oTjq3tnJOVdNscXKzdAHVPBSVffMROQOA/s1600/Dog+Days+are+Over.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbVc91huaSyxX0TXULLUykH-cgGgrcEJsrtPQ7u4ixonyoZqfD_KlqocX-DgkVY_cCjovxnrbTdHCRFv7omLx_LheDozdsqd7SJKFlrXPuM4oTjq3tnJOVdNscXKzdAHVPBSVffMROQOA/s400/Dog+Days+are+Over.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The dog days are over, over. </i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Went with another healing power in my life, and we Ooo'ed and Ahh'ed at her performance and vocals. Turns out being in relationships takes away from other relationships (it's inevitable but sad), so it was wonderful to see OJ! We talked boys, and work, and boys, and boys, and the future with those boys, and froyo (duh).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigv8mD8JzbJcMXVJmFUvf06Fz-B1625pm_6JxjkkFMImKghwQplps5twf9g-_bRZg47Nbi06W6AsHp8_alpww0VY4pqhWMKo2DcIjYyWQOzY9fRfBTWw28iPKbnD5S38hcaTrOI605XAM/s1600/Florence+w+Lisa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigv8mD8JzbJcMXVJmFUvf06Fz-B1625pm_6JxjkkFMImKghwQplps5twf9g-_bRZg47Nbi06W6AsHp8_alpww0VY4pqhWMKo2DcIjYyWQOzY9fRfBTWw28iPKbnD5S38hcaTrOI605XAM/s400/Florence+w+Lisa.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lovely Lisa G!</td></tr>
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Finally, right when it was about my bedtime, she came out, and great Scott, what a show! That woman sings from the depths of her soul...sometimes it's almost like an on-pitch bellow. She was incredible.<br />
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<i>(Also she was wearing some kind of bird-like cape thing. While I don't necessarily condone this kind of wardrobe for normal people, Florence can rock a feathery, flowy tarp like nobody's business.) </i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHzE9f_RmH-lA0MKQspCBQ0VQCse6JVDx89tY3pVdbD2-LpDVQHAVQuO7LJ2oRuumedXWlAqf_S21pWw6g2R4tfjKowEeOutsF9SkD0pg_3B5oS0ALwZ6wFuUvQA-uyY6FLe8MBWt6dSg/s1600/Florence.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHzE9f_RmH-lA0MKQspCBQ0VQCse6JVDx89tY3pVdbD2-LpDVQHAVQuO7LJ2oRuumedXWlAqf_S21pWw6g2R4tfjKowEeOutsF9SkD0pg_3B5oS0ALwZ6wFuUvQA-uyY6FLe8MBWt6dSg/s400/Florence.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caw!</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: left;">It was an hour's worth of bliss, and I was so sad when it was over.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkLBYKYP0G5aBbNhAuThyphenhyphennUu0Z7_vHiTA5Kxgusdwj_jQjiN9OB4JmtdroVIB3NG9zLA5ZwWjq1M2iiO3NFs6lwY5oeYUZXT5nBXVE5d3-56wDC1RsXyDFqSm8vtq5B1F405LXY3pGOfw/s1600/DSC00918.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkLBYKYP0G5aBbNhAuThyphenhyphennUu0Z7_vHiTA5Kxgusdwj_jQjiN9OB4JmtdroVIB3NG9zLA5ZwWjq1M2iiO3NFs6lwY5oeYUZXT5nBXVE5d3-56wDC1RsXyDFqSm8vtq5B1F405LXY3pGOfw/s400/DSC00918.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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The dog days are over indeed. As my mom has often said, "The only thing we know for sure is that nothing stays the same." I think back to that hot, sweaty, breathless run and thank God for the journey he's taken me on and is taking me on. It's filled with people and details and love that I would never have been brave enough to ask for myself. And yet, he's made it happen anyway.<br />
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That being said, there's lots of great things to catch up on, friends! My semester is over, and I'm free until August. This means there's hours upon hours of cooking, reading, exercising, firefighter discussing and lazing to do for the next few months. Can't wait to get started!<br />
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<i>(Pssst. Did you catch the firefighter part? Yep, one date turned into two, then two into three, and now we've been together for almost three months. And rarely have I stopped smiling this entire time. Swoon.)</i>Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-2106186143140979502012-02-24T12:34:00.005-08:002012-02-24T12:34:54.427-08:00Baked CheetosSo delicious. <div>
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It's only when I'm extremely bored at work that I notice things like this...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Really, Cheetos? Really?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3chJXioHdq1ayAydezpRwcEunNDTsgBa4GbQskG6ck8sCA8NISSwNMBc05PRS0sPiYGazDWUnFbJO6SSRGV2AmpFCios9ppg0f30kQ4dWFXMmIsAj92oY0wRP9UZwXuI1JfNZRS7GyLw/s1600/Cheetos+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3chJXioHdq1ayAydezpRwcEunNDTsgBa4GbQskG6ck8sCA8NISSwNMBc05PRS0sPiYGazDWUnFbJO6SSRGV2AmpFCios9ppg0f30kQ4dWFXMmIsAj92oY0wRP9UZwXuI1JfNZRS7GyLw/s640/Cheetos+3.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah right.</td></tr>
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...I should throw these away immediately. </div>
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And I will just as soon as the bag is empty. </div>
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CHEETO FINGERS FRIDAY! Happy times!</div>
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<br /></div>Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-31332320303055167242012-02-23T05:06:00.000-08:002012-02-23T05:08:23.690-08:00This is a good one.<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 15px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.daniellelaporte.com/the-burning-question-series/"></a></span><a href="http://www.daniellelaporte.com/the-burning-question-series/"><br style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 15px; list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 15px; text-align: left;"><img src="http://www.daniellelaporte.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/01/BQ-for_bloggers-350x185-final2.png" /></span></a>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 15px; text-align: left;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 15px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Question of the week is "What's the one dumb thing you used to believe in?"</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 15px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 15px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm a person with a lot of beliefs. I'm idealistic...in fact, I'm extremely idealistic, especially in the realm of romance. I have long hoped for a man who would understand me, believe in me, root for me, challenge me and adore me -- all within 45 minutes of meeting me. This is a dumb thing I used to believe in, and let me tell you why. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 15px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've realized that for much of my life I've been looking for myself in manform. Why? Because I'm comfortable with me, and I'm safe with me.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">I'm great and all, a lovely little human, but when it comes to someone who's going to be my life partner, that man has to take me <i>outside </i>of myself, not remind me of myself and make me more me-like. The challenging, the understanding, the believing - those aren't necessarily going to come in packages that I'm familiar with; I'm not going to meet a man who reads blogs, loves to cook and thinks Ryan Gosling is hella hot (at least I hope not). But I do believe someday I'll meet a man, and one day he'll do something or say something that is uncomfortable because it's unfamiliar, and I'll be like - woah, you aren't me, and I totally dig it. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">For lent this year, I went back and forth. Paleo diet for 40 days or more Bible reading? After evaluating my Paleo plans for .0035 seconds and realizing it had absolutely nothing to do with Jesus, I decided on dedicating myself to reading one chapter from Acts every night throughout Lent. I think Acts is only 28 chapters, so once I get to the end, I'll start over. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">As far as the firefighter goes, date #3 (third date in a week) is this Friday. I like a lot of things about this man, and I like that it's all been very low key and slow (no texting 6 hours a day). I've been doing lots of praying and soul-searching to keep myself grounded. I have learned the hard way that as appealing as something (someone) may seem, give me God's way <i>every single time</i> because I know that's where my ultimate joy and love come from. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">...That being said, I'm ready to have my first kiss in almost a year, and I'd be fine with Friday. :)</span></span></div>Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-26548803698355934482012-02-14T07:58:00.001-08:002012-02-14T07:58:51.727-08:00A Birthday Race<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCzOdOPT0Gpu0tNXJrKiPPQRoPLQGAkM8dU5ERmu318jpE7jognuTZ-Y3KyPQAHwQkUftLj6QFLozS8it4_JnaI_wH8DXhB59W57AnRtfa1H6TtzsVF88PNVsz_t5tmH273qNqG4BH4NY/s1600/Spartan+Badge.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCzOdOPT0Gpu0tNXJrKiPPQRoPLQGAkM8dU5ERmu318jpE7jognuTZ-Y3KyPQAHwQkUftLj6QFLozS8it4_JnaI_wH8DXhB59W57AnRtfa1H6TtzsVF88PNVsz_t5tmH273qNqG4BH4NY/s200/Spartan+Badge.png" width="200" /></a></div>
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May 2012. First muddy/obstacle course race, and I am PUMPED!</div>
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Also, I have a date Thursday with a hot firefighter. </div>
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Two great things on this beautiful Valentine's Day. :)</div>Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-35810925744756402272012-02-07T19:08:00.000-08:002012-02-07T19:08:36.524-08:00A Cuss of a Good MovieDecent day at work.<br />
Three page paper for school submitted.<br />
Awesome 3 mile run at UH.<br />
Dance party with weights back at home.<br />
One snoring pug plastered against my side.<br />
And a smelly wienie not far off.<br />
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Life is good!<br />
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This past Friday I watched Fantastic Mr. Fox with some friends and was reminded of how cussin' amazing this movie is. It's probably one of my top five.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsHQJ6Fj-mf68NRv4v9OVQVSasXLJ30a2Cvq31TFeag_KADySEzvk-YgNTV3wpHCBh1Fa5YDT5xf-V44iHbAn3Z6bjLH1eTHsNQO9qUlwGjBciWoGw0g7XJHXJDJVvhN42ySWO9wQN1tg/s1600/fanfox2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsHQJ6Fj-mf68NRv4v9OVQVSasXLJ30a2Cvq31TFeag_KADySEzvk-YgNTV3wpHCBh1Fa5YDT5xf-V44iHbAn3Z6bjLH1eTHsNQO9qUlwGjBciWoGw0g7XJHXJDJVvhN42ySWO9wQN1tg/s640/fanfox2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRNhDwuOEW8HiT8xAR1Cc00P4qMerB4P2mZYVKOIWo2Elm5OIh4VymCnkSV8VdBlaA8QZ_iLmx5bIgaFI0BOgVevehQW1Qd9rRxk76krlgae_b58brceiDJoMRkb87qXHiKt44Wq_3AMA/s1600/mr+fox.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRNhDwuOEW8HiT8xAR1Cc00P4qMerB4P2mZYVKOIWo2Elm5OIh4VymCnkSV8VdBlaA8QZ_iLmx5bIgaFI0BOgVevehQW1Qd9rRxk76krlgae_b58brceiDJoMRkb87qXHiKt44Wq_3AMA/s640/mr+fox.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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It took me a while to appreciate Wes Anderson's movies.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfc87-_5UO2hdEYulBbL1yYdQHd8n4-uL7xy5VZoL-5y5HMr_DBkjPE8Pt_yNPrHH0OYmpOD2OnFvDT8W6TPjeVCzcfdweqTrMwdofZKRSVGSnSx_rqTbD0QkHmbWlcqffuEFqRsbi1Co/s1600/wes+anderson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfc87-_5UO2hdEYulBbL1yYdQHd8n4-uL7xy5VZoL-5y5HMr_DBkjPE8Pt_yNPrHH0OYmpOD2OnFvDT8W6TPjeVCzcfdweqTrMwdofZKRSVGSnSx_rqTbD0QkHmbWlcqffuEFqRsbi1Co/s640/wes+anderson.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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This one was the first one that made me all googly-eyed for his stuff:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQsemCtHKHj_Evm0UHhscSl_Id8aPKFYWbAOV1zDhEaHTwmLYPu9cfJ8LdmwDLMbX8elW5cM4sVN04HAPX-l3gOj_WQsSa3Msg3PnrLzGbZgCfN-TaUjU9nP3XrJLO2zl-YaiQFt3Y8fc/s1600/dj2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQsemCtHKHj_Evm0UHhscSl_Id8aPKFYWbAOV1zDhEaHTwmLYPu9cfJ8LdmwDLMbX8elW5cM4sVN04HAPX-l3gOj_WQsSa3Msg3PnrLzGbZgCfN-TaUjU9nP3XrJLO2zl-YaiQFt3Y8fc/s640/dj2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72pq0nYSxN1IpglxQHHbggHe9nligJusaEIDYS4450uqtT5rVrGpVAy5XUsfe2qW2kcKSBohI_EYctC5VBXN2cuDDmGADMHhyphenhyphenl3jP-YR8AUnQs1cRCwgYxGZUDUQtGIYVOozTxg8J918/s1600/darjeeling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72pq0nYSxN1IpglxQHHbggHe9nligJusaEIDYS4450uqtT5rVrGpVAy5XUsfe2qW2kcKSBohI_EYctC5VBXN2cuDDmGADMHhyphenhyphenl3jP-YR8AUnQs1cRCwgYxGZUDUQtGIYVOozTxg8J918/s640/darjeeling.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUBvBFphACz6F3pCh4iFMoBvRHz7sLeFIMPFk2uikXMpvU0euzMlvCZnApZRcKuetvRjNAYrM4u88xGJs469-og3xXoouSw-kGCf1FYgX-BAMTVK5fQ35Z6hV87S_8XDIx-EDE2yAb8-I/s1600/dj1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUBvBFphACz6F3pCh4iFMoBvRHz7sLeFIMPFk2uikXMpvU0euzMlvCZnApZRcKuetvRjNAYrM4u88xGJs469-og3xXoouSw-kGCf1FYgX-BAMTVK5fQ35Z6hV87S_8XDIx-EDE2yAb8-I/s640/dj1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
And when I get right down to it, it's this guy. This big ol' jewish hunk of love..<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5aXPqH5mIdobUrm7whhhfS-t01MCfkaIdJ0JXxAU5KyjRLvk3ytkNzf3RleeMjRIY1AOK7otjqqVz6e07ebh938b3eSFML6tttEFsO_lj0AmO5461hZhtRK0mYodlzwHPf4Dg5l-GpH0/s1600/js.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5aXPqH5mIdobUrm7whhhfS-t01MCfkaIdJ0JXxAU5KyjRLvk3ytkNzf3RleeMjRIY1AOK7otjqqVz6e07ebh938b3eSFML6tttEFsO_lj0AmO5461hZhtRK0mYodlzwHPf4Dg5l-GpH0/s400/js.jpg" width="331" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Swoonsies. </td></tr>
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And Wes loves him too, so that's just about all the reassurance I need.Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-74576503411110925432012-02-06T06:01:00.000-08:002012-02-07T19:09:12.043-08:00Hello, A Month Later!<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Hello, bloggy friends!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I've been gone for a few weeks, often missing this blog, other times being at peace with its demise for the time being. Ultimately, I'm on the fence and don't want to pressure myself to either blog every day or to not blog at all. It's my blog and I'll do what I want with it, y'see?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The first thing I'd like to share with you is my mild obsession with <a href="http://www.daniellelaporte.com/" target="_blank">this</a> website right now. She's starting a new series called The Burning Question, and once a week she's going to post a question to respond to. This week's was about how you want to feel. Since I'm 80% emo-kid, I jumped all over that!</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.daniellelaporte.com/the-burning-question-series/"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">These are my responses - </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I want my </span><strong style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">day</strong><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> to feel like a sunrise.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I want </span><strong style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">kissing</strong><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> to feel like skydiving.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I want my </span><strong style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">next success</strong><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> to feel like being at the top of Hahn's peak in Steamboat, CO. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I want my </span><strong style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">body</strong><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> to feel like a 1200 cc motorcycle.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I want </span><strong style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">smiling</strong><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> to feel like swinging at the park on a crisp, sunny day.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I want my </span><strong style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">friendships</strong><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> to feel like the brunch I had at Liberty Kitchen this Sunday.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I want my </span><strong style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">nervous system</strong><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> to feel like Pearl Jam.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I want my </span><strong style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">integrity</strong><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> to feel like a good hard Shred with Jillian Michaels.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I want my </span><strong style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">money-making</strong><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> to feel like dancing.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I want my </span><strong style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">word </strong><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">to feel like real conversation with a trusted friend.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I want my </span><strong style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">laughter</strong><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> to feel like Wild Berry Skittles.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I want the </span><strong style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">end of the day</strong><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> to feel like hot peppermint tea.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I want </span><strong style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">being of service</strong><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> to feel like having a made bed to crawl into at night.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I want my </span><strong style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">philanthropy</strong><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> to feel like rock climbing.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I want my </span><strong style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">challenges</strong><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> to feel like camping in the Redwoods.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I want my </span><strong style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">love</strong><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> to feel like warm half-baked brownies.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I want my </span><strong style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">writing</strong><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> to feel like the Mediterranean.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I want my </span><strong style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">ideas</strong><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> to feel like waking up completely refreshed.</span>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">In other news, I've been running and shredding, and running some more (can almost tackle 3 miles at a 9:15 pace on the TM at this point). I've been working and schooling and being with my fuzzy boys. I don't dig this winter weather, and I'm about 90% convinced I'm going to start tanning again in what can only be described as a DESPERATE attempt to beckon summer back. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Here's to Monday!</span>Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-75664667579623205312012-01-20T15:58:00.000-08:002012-01-20T15:58:35.545-08:00FridayI stayed home from work today. I don't know if it was the marathon or just general life-exhaustion, but I felt like a cinder block all week long. I woke up this morning and thought, "There's no way. I can't do it another day." So I didn't. Sometimes, I really, really love the flexibility of my job.<br />
<br />
On grad school:<br />
<br />
My first class is a STATS class. MATH. INTENSIVE. Thanks, school counselor. I ordered all my books and printed off all the supplemental readings my professors have posted online. In one class, I've already filled up an entire 1-1/2" binder with extra stuff to read. I already have about 200 pages to read and a quiz on Tuesday. I'm half terrified, half exhilarated!<br />
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I haven't done any exercise since the marathon. True fact. Going dancing tonight though, so...I'm counting that as my first foray back into aerobic activity.<br />
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Have you seen this? I watch it about five times a day.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/47aS3uSCHLc?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-65684329243431615042012-01-18T12:03:00.000-08:002012-01-18T12:03:11.182-08:00Go Cougs!<br />
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My first class of grad school is tonight, and I’m really excited
to open this new chapter of my little life!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnNuQb6UoLBpPHuowovwCgVA_5AnKb046-k7s5EHIGEB3NlhKAVjqgUK3bGLH0WKpyCht3KrLJe7hFoVkwz-kWuOvdBp9qDYEPP_bmAodBhozzrfNaI-KMHRFAQExDGhtVTZlg5ZpMAFI/s1600/university_of_houston_polyester_house_flag_62444big.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnNuQb6UoLBpPHuowovwCgVA_5AnKb046-k7s5EHIGEB3NlhKAVjqgUK3bGLH0WKpyCht3KrLJe7hFoVkwz-kWuOvdBp9qDYEPP_bmAodBhozzrfNaI-KMHRFAQExDGhtVTZlg5ZpMAFI/s400/university_of_houston_polyester_house_flag_62444big.jpg" width="363" /></a></div>
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I’m taking three classes this semester:<o:p></o:p></div>
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Principles of Human Learning<o:p></o:p></div>
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Introduction to Educational and Psychological Measurement
(starts tonight!)<o:p></o:p></div>
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Cultural Foundations of American Education<o:p></o:p></div>
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By the time I was done with my undergrad degree, I was SO
burnt out on school. I felt like it was unnecessarily expensive, and I honestly
thought all my professors were a joke. Grades were absolutely not realistic or preparing
me for “the real world,” and anything that didn’t directly benefit my
education, I was against. (For example, I WORKED during college – if I wanted
to skip three classes because you were boring as hell and I was exhausted, why shouldn’t
I be allowed to?) (Also, I graduated Magna Cum Laude.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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I have a different attitude going into the Educational
Psychology program. Even though I work full time, I’m excited about everything
I’m going to be learning, and I’m invested in the studies because <i>this is the direction I want my life to go</i>.
I know every little thing we do in life matters (firmly believe that), and I’m
ready to focus my efforts and attention during these next months and years to
achieve great things on both a short and long term scale. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I also downloaded a new calorie counting app I read about
<a href="http://one-twenty-five.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">here</a>, and I LOVE it! My goal is to lose 3 pounds by February first, so I’m on a
daily allowance of a little over 1200 calories (unless I exercise, in which
case, I’ll obviously eat more). Trust me, I know 1200 calories isn’t a lot, but
with school starting and me wanting to do NOTHING after the Houston marathon, I
think 1200 cals a day will be fine for a totally sedentary person for a couple
weeks (again, I will allow myself more calories on the days I do bust a move). <o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p>Here's what I've got so far today:</o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Please note I've eaten cheese three times today. </td></tr>
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<br /></div>Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-5781387280549864152012-01-17T10:33:00.000-08:002012-01-17T10:33:48.281-08:00The Chevron Houston Marathon in Pics<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Almost all of these pictures are brought to you by the Ninja's sidekick/fiance. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWO2BOkoVDvoENtpfNdPlv9iQjzi6F52I4BWIlzz6EPCwH9FJlmF7o9mQ89gDCR0uAR4FfQi4J0djrZ_WQEILE6kBv5-A5tx_Dc3ftBWWuK5untOjEkThbkaV6UZbQo439gOFYetm_Ybo/s1600/Back+of+Shirts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWO2BOkoVDvoENtpfNdPlv9iQjzi6F52I4BWIlzz6EPCwH9FJlmF7o9mQ89gDCR0uAR4FfQi4J0djrZ_WQEILE6kBv5-A5tx_Dc3ftBWWuK5untOjEkThbkaV6UZbQo439gOFYetm_Ybo/s640/Back+of+Shirts.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp3CHXNiOwK2TzZ-Fswu4gKQobHF7jV_hNwJm6QoKRQQqPFQ0CzM4X6A_u7CeukoIK12EECk8XsBu_BhogAM48kG1Azg3uog-E4uQYYRt7ZlQwP9XH0GhsmCMxX5o_k6CllaNxN1sjUP4/s1600/expo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp3CHXNiOwK2TzZ-Fswu4gKQobHF7jV_hNwJm6QoKRQQqPFQ0CzM4X6A_u7CeukoIK12EECk8XsBu_BhogAM48kG1Azg3uog-E4uQYYRt7ZlQwP9XH0GhsmCMxX5o_k6CllaNxN1sjUP4/s640/expo.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH-PtOJ00PU2oXqdCiiym8MolrPDxsBE5ohrgkjwgWF4vpzwNze4hxsW0JKDAYqaXol7aAtLyAtnS4ZJ3QWJmdrWimRjmcE0tWG7DvFu6MZH1b2hBsxsTA1I0bYgeSWd6pyj5TY6tfP_s/s1600/the+girls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH-PtOJ00PU2oXqdCiiym8MolrPDxsBE5ohrgkjwgWF4vpzwNze4hxsW0JKDAYqaXol7aAtLyAtnS4ZJ3QWJmdrWimRjmcE0tWG7DvFu6MZH1b2hBsxsTA1I0bYgeSWd6pyj5TY6tfP_s/s640/the+girls.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhvqGmrCAC14fCdUCoUqB6fjfcHAgICi22tfd_wBaLkno8Qn5lz3g0d1uhqOvSFz3LBELoPTBRhXMaQ1k8A2wHo2EVZsCpeY2UA-KBIQJ3Zk6zK4BgSgBHNQbewZnsbWySge9c4RrvmXM/s1600/running+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhvqGmrCAC14fCdUCoUqB6fjfcHAgICi22tfd_wBaLkno8Qn5lz3g0d1uhqOvSFz3LBELoPTBRhXMaQ1k8A2wHo2EVZsCpeY2UA-KBIQJ3Zk6zK4BgSgBHNQbewZnsbWySge9c4RrvmXM/s640/running+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisK4kkToyCw6k9B96HChLXa7zlfHJJEzSxzWBQA-uAQ7URd-lw6memU0e0q4QVE5K5ldGdlyvuFU4_Yg-uOG29yj-ToOKCEbS2TvvNobrl2X_WM5E-rSxl-8Wqpxun8TCXhGuOAGqwDfY/s1600/Running.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisK4kkToyCw6k9B96HChLXa7zlfHJJEzSxzWBQA-uAQ7URd-lw6memU0e0q4QVE5K5ldGdlyvuFU4_Yg-uOG29yj-ToOKCEbS2TvvNobrl2X_WM5E-rSxl-8Wqpxun8TCXhGuOAGqwDfY/s640/Running.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV22zZ1d4QKGLUtAfwkZecuI2tEaXQGUlrPxU13-cQCUETpvW3hBrBP-SosIeYfw-NcQo5JQAgOvw6PWX-0iQwcxpx3eUjfv_aRiYk7fZ-xOkkHhHap0PElUmt5BQZtFqVnE4K2OLi-XI/s1600/the+ladies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="596" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV22zZ1d4QKGLUtAfwkZecuI2tEaXQGUlrPxU13-cQCUETpvW3hBrBP-SosIeYfw-NcQo5JQAgOvw6PWX-0iQwcxpx3eUjfv_aRiYk7fZ-xOkkHhHap0PElUmt5BQZtFqVnE4K2OLi-XI/s640/the+ladies.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-78130611663074457262012-01-16T07:47:00.000-08:002012-01-16T07:47:10.114-08:00Mini RecapSecond marathon in the books! <br />
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I don't have all my pictures from various sources yet, but I think between my parents (who videotaped me running to the finish - how cute!) and Ninja's fiance, there will be some really good ones!<br />
<br />
Let me say first off that this marathon was night and day different than Dallas. Yesterday was sunny, cool for the most part and way more fun running with people I knew, on streets I knew. Our corral and pace leader was easy to find. There were lots of snacks and spectators throughout the whole thing, and the finish line was SO fun to come to - lots of music, cheering and spectators making a ruckus! I felt like a rockstar, despite not feeling like one at all. <br />
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I'm proud of myself that I ran all the way to mile 22 this time without stopping, as opposed to 18 last time. I definitely started feeling the Wall creeping in between 18 and 20 but was able to keep pushing through. After 20, I was straight up ready to be done, and at 22 I finally decided I wanted/needed to walk if I was going to enjoy the rest of the marathon. I alternated walking and running until 25 and then got a huge burst of energy and sprinted (okay, it FELT like a sprint but I'm sure it was actually more like a slow death crawl) to the finish. That finish line, seeing my parents, was one of the most glorious moments of my life. The sun was shining, music was blasting, and I knew this would be my last distance run for quite a while. <br />
<br />
My marathon days are officially over (but I hear that's what they all say). <br />
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Sorry there are no pictures just yet. I did run behind Mattress Mac for about a mile, and I also ran past George Bush, Sr.! I ate bananas, pretzels and gummy bears on the course, as well as 3 of my 4 Gu's. Le Ninj and I got a couple shout-outs from our matchy shirts, and I saw a handful of friends along the way, which is always, always a HUGE encouragement!<br />
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I'm pretty sure I shaved only a couple minutes off my Dallas time, but I'm still so happy with yesterday!<br />
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And now, it's off to a celebratory lunch with THE LADIES!Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-17074378859987137282012-01-14T17:15:00.000-08:002012-01-14T17:15:45.203-08:00Let's Do It Again!The Houston marathon is fiiiinally tomorrow, and I am equally nervous and excited!<br />
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Already the organization surrounding this marathon blows Dallas out of the water. The<a href="http://www.ninjacupcake.com/" target="_blank"> French Ninj</a> and I went to the expo and retrieved our bibs today.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAPgZp7FxOJyb7Av2HvsHrf79DZYjK8OJjvdSReWJYLgRpi9potVPn73jaF_pu6f8R4wIeh6AWmOQa556saKNBSvNorUsDMuc9pdKbdSl6J1Y_tgNP8Ck8TY7M3E2V2WwdeCDJEUr4BIA/s1600/dana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAPgZp7FxOJyb7Av2HvsHrf79DZYjK8OJjvdSReWJYLgRpi9potVPn73jaF_pu6f8R4wIeh6AWmOQa556saKNBSvNorUsDMuc9pdKbdSl6J1Y_tgNP8Ck8TY7M3E2V2WwdeCDJEUr4BIA/s640/dana.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All Immodiumed up and READY TO RUN!</td></tr>
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<br />
We also geeked out and made matching shirts for race day tomorrow, which makes me laugh and also motivates me to keep up with her because people will definitely not get the joke if we're not side by side (specifically with her running to the left of me).<br />
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The energy in downtown Houston today was unbelievable - the Olympic time trials added an extra crispness to the already gorgeous day.<br />
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Tomorrow is supposed to be 60's and cloudy. Just as long as there's no rain, I am pumped!<br />
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I don't want to put the cart before the horse (because I haven't even started let alone finished the dang thing), but I am so jazzed to be running another marathon, and to be running with friends, and to be running in a city I know. Our goal for tomorrow is a sub-5 hour with no walk breaks. I have no doubt in the Ninja, and I'm hopeful for myself. Assuming everything goes well, this will be my last marathon for the time being.<br />
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Anyways, God is good! So many things to be thankful for - so, so many things!<br />
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Until tomorrow! Wish me luck!Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-44688082812883303852012-01-12T15:05:00.000-08:002012-01-12T15:05:55.621-08:00Rosencrantz<span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">'We cross our bridges when we come to them, and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered.'</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">- Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">Sometimes it's just about getting across the bridge and knowing you can burn it behind you if you want or you can leave it there knowing you've conquered it. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">Also, this quote for some reason reminds me of The Hunger Games and makes me REALLY excited for the movie. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">Marathon in THREE DAYS! Nervous poops in full force!</span>Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-47798015045835253762012-01-11T16:03:00.000-08:002012-01-11T16:06:47.207-08:00No Excuses!Against all my better judgment I've gotten involved in the Biggest Loser saga again this season.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI3O1OUVxF6SRR2HlwnLaqQKt_8EcBWfQCEVrXwWAUTTn_uiYUnskidhEHi076WPtXRT64Q-0i6IHiLldZxso2LrFTvKBLL1guZpJ0_kkcVEOj556Ca1kzj87zey4uKCjgbVbrhJOfd1s/s1600/biggestloser.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="395" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI3O1OUVxF6SRR2HlwnLaqQKt_8EcBWfQCEVrXwWAUTTn_uiYUnskidhEHi076WPtXRT64Q-0i6IHiLldZxso2LrFTvKBLL1guZpJ0_kkcVEOj556Ca1kzj87zey4uKCjgbVbrhJOfd1s/s400/biggestloser.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dangit. </td></tr>
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I tuned in to one episode because I wanted to see who replaced Anna Kournikova, who replaced my beloved Jillian. Turns out Bob Harper's trainer-competitor this season is this guy:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbt122C-yNnUYt8r9-9lq_lCLINj5K1Seo4YuJDLF1xUxFQbSftVcXZWopJ7xSgYfhLmd8Zmt7PRG0lFdYm0D1zS2XAVYHOsgyp-3qi9ZcfjOFU7Y47qvk2jKqd1W77IKVIiyd6l2cv_A/s1600/dolvett.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbt122C-yNnUYt8r9-9lq_lCLINj5K1Seo4YuJDLF1xUxFQbSftVcXZWopJ7xSgYfhLmd8Zmt7PRG0lFdYm0D1zS2XAVYHOsgyp-3qi9ZcfjOFU7Y47qvk2jKqd1W77IKVIiyd6l2cv_A/s640/dolvett.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dolvett Quince</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Well...who the heck are you?! You can't just show up on the Biggest Loser ranch and expect me to love you more than my second-best-to-Jillian, Bob!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDS09fA91MsWZ-z1OBFMG8m3_OlzLV8D2LiQ4gYz6_noGde656Me19CXErCrxrUpw0wFofRfDlhOi__D1N0ctN9u75tyS_v_fXC6N6xpu3F8_AxgiLeXvr_28n-Wy4uJe3xvNV7kJbaD8/s1600/bob+harper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDS09fA91MsWZ-z1OBFMG8m3_OlzLV8D2LiQ4gYz6_noGde656Me19CXErCrxrUpw0wFofRfDlhOi__D1N0ctN9u75tyS_v_fXC6N6xpu3F8_AxgiLeXvr_28n-Wy4uJe3xvNV7kJbaD8/s400/bob+harper.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hello, you gorgeous blonde man (so not my type.)! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Anyways, the theme this Spring is No Excuses, and I'm hooked already. Sometimes I have so many excuses for every possible issue in my life, I get tired of hearing myself talk. My favorites are hunger and boredom --- they are my quintessential excuses for some of the messes I get myself into.<br />
<br />
I got invited to be a +1 to a wedding shower in New Braunfels in early February by someone I spent some time with in Colorado a few years back. Perfect reason to enact my own little Biggest Loser No Excuses ordeal.<br />
<br />
If I could get as obsessed with my own healthy living as I do with these strangers, I'd be in great, great shape.<br />
<br />
I'm off to see this little film tonight:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiENmIZnP2IaVJwjR_hpZlJk4KDMOxOOv5lvUA3uzRBKy8rZ_v4e95hEuLr6ABq65D6U3EaZsKiMPepjXJV77IFfE-yolTpUrIU-zR3XyaXescZxmNo3Fc_tqgNErEYafU_xwohB0L2nMo/s1600/Tinker-Tailor-Soldier-Spy-Film-Poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiENmIZnP2IaVJwjR_hpZlJk4KDMOxOOv5lvUA3uzRBKy8rZ_v4e95hEuLr6ABq65D6U3EaZsKiMPepjXJV77IFfE-yolTpUrIU-zR3XyaXescZxmNo3Fc_tqgNErEYafU_xwohB0L2nMo/s640/Tinker-Tailor-Soldier-Spy-Film-Poster.jpg" width="432" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I lost a bet and he got to choose when, where and what movie we would go see. Otherwise I would NOT be seeing a Cold War movie...on a Wednesday night at 7...in a very cramped theater. ...But I'm also kind of not mad about it. ;)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-73331990673986431452012-01-09T18:39:00.000-08:002012-01-09T18:41:50.885-08:00ConfeshI'm trying to lose weight.<br />
<br />
There, I said it. <br />
<br />
I'm 5'5 1/2, and I weigh 130 pounds. I'm active, and I usually eat pretty reasonably, even though I'm a big believer in indulgence in moderation. <br />
<br />
I'm not heavy or large (this weight loss isn't about false humility), but over the past few months, I've become uncomfortable. And that's why I'm trying to lose weight. <br />
<br />
I am proud of my body and how it can perform for me. I'm about to run my second marathon in two months - I'm not ashamed of a little extra jiggle if it means I can go farther and harder than ever before. <br />
<br />
But, my work clothes are tighter than they should be. And that's why I'm trying to lose weight. <br />
<br />
I don't want my "fat" jeans to fit so well, and that's why I'm trying to lose weight. <br />
<br />
I think about my body too much, and that's also why I'm trying to lose weight. <br />
<br />
So here's my plan. By February 1, I want to be 127 pounds. That's three pounds between now and then (21 days). It's not as easy as it sounds because this week I'm tapering, which means I can't go all out with weights and cardio. Next week I start grad night-school. Three pounds should be no problem, but any amount of weight loss is a psychological and physical challenge.<br />
<br />
Diet is my biggest obstacle. Hunger makes me crazy. I would rather work out three hours a day and eat all I want than buckle down on portion control and diet. But I didn't gain this weight by working out three hours a day, ya know. <br />
<br />
I want my final resting weight to be 122 or 123. It's going to be a lot harder to go from 127 to 122 than from 130 to 127, but I know my body, and I know I feel at my best right around 122, 123. I'm going to give myself more time to drop those pounds, maybe a pound a month (that would take me to June). <br />
<br />
So this is a lot of yammering to say I know I'm not fat, but I want to feel my best, and right now I don't. I'm proud of myself, this weight or any other, but I'm ready to not let discomfort at the office or second-guessing outfits with friends even be concerns of mine. <br />
<br />
Slow, steady and healthfully. For a visual just imagine me working out in my study with Jillian Michaels, sweat literally flying all over the place. :) Now we're talkin'!Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-12508717787815375472012-01-08T13:17:00.000-08:002012-01-08T13:17:36.092-08:00Blue Ivy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
There's just something about my girl Beyonce that I love. Love her music, love her attitude, love her man. LOVE her music videos. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Ob7vObnFUJc?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
Not sure if you're the only person on the planet who hasn't heard this yet, but she <a href="http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/gossip/2012/01/beyonce-baby-blue-ivy-carter-jay-z.html" target="_blank">had a little girl</a> this weekend. And by that I mean she had the entire floor of a hospital in New York cleared out for 1.5 million dolla-dolla-bills-y'all so she could have a C-section in peace. Beyonce style.<br />
<br />
Houston marathon is in exactly one week. I'm EXCITED! I'm ready to RUN!Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-59577254945411311332012-01-05T18:42:00.000-08:002012-01-05T18:45:43.790-08:00Run HappyToday a wonderful thing happened to me...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mBUKOZ92BdM/TwZbO2qigTI/AAAAAAAAA8M/BHd6hie74W8/s1600/DSC00809.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" rea="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mBUKOZ92BdM/TwZbO2qigTI/AAAAAAAAA8M/BHd6hie74W8/s640/DSC00809.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These babies are luminescent!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I crossed over from the old to the new. Goodbye, Old Brooks. Hello, New! Brought to me courtesy of Zappos. "Run Happy" is the Brooks slogan, and that's exactly what I did tonight in my GTS 11's after a good 30 minute Shred. <br />
<br />
<em>Does anyone else kind of dread the new shoe glow? I felt like everyone tonight at the gym was looking at me like, "Oh look, that girl had a New Year's Resolution to work out more, so she bought new shoes. How sweet." </em><br />
<br />
It's not easy saying goodbye to my old GTS 11's. They carried me through quite a hard, sweaty, awesome season of life, but sliding my feet into these new kicks made me feel like a new woman. It's amazing how a shoe changes and kind of collapses throughout its short life. I figured I'd break these in before the Chevron Houston Marathon coming up on Jan. 15, and then I'd let them basically just carry me through 26 and some-odd miles on race day. <br />
<br />
Anyways. Fair wwell, old friends. Many thanks, and don't worry, I'll still be pulling you out for random walks and when I can't find the newbies. Y'all are like the Velveteen Rabbit in shoe form now. <br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkGOy0H7YUE3FsdsDBD4A1jxoX8Jf1eLxJLVaO2fwLb4eXrqLYxPHhtHmHnbLPddgNzH5seCI2N94CxCpFmLV-_mT2o2_E_HUMoGzqKCIlL6C6DNuYmpuhIxthzuxo11qCE3xgNISctyQ/s1600/DSC00814.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkGOy0H7YUE3FsdsDBD4A1jxoX8Jf1eLxJLVaO2fwLb4eXrqLYxPHhtHmHnbLPddgNzH5seCI2N94CxCpFmLV-_mT2o2_E_HUMoGzqKCIlL6C6DNuYmpuhIxthzuxo11qCE3xgNISctyQ/s640/DSC00814.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not sure what's dirtier - my post-workout face or these nasty old things. Oh well, we're practically one anyways.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
First Friday of the year tomorrow! Holla!Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-44585332764034660612012-01-04T18:30:00.000-08:002012-01-04T18:30:53.541-08:00Post-Itless Post-It Wisdom Wednesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKKoAMqzq4tWqW4ibsdwlVOLm_zuF6juMP2GhUPs_QCr8qgeaTAB_vthEEC5WpqfTsd7bGeL-7laFEizsTm8NjzME812IUokKYzRZ6Ceq9UEbypLjfCp4He4AJMQnvthc7d8wZFyEHZGM/s1600/take+time.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKKoAMqzq4tWqW4ibsdwlVOLm_zuF6juMP2GhUPs_QCr8qgeaTAB_vthEEC5WpqfTsd7bGeL-7laFEizsTm8NjzME812IUokKYzRZ6Ceq9UEbypLjfCp4He4AJMQnvthc7d8wZFyEHZGM/s640/take+time.jpg" width="436" /></a></div>
<br />
Sigh. <br />
Slower is always better. <br />
Unless you're doing an interval workout at the gym. <br />
<br />
<br />
...then it can't end fast enough.Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-29845915395136896122012-01-03T18:14:00.000-08:002012-01-03T18:14:50.210-08:00Soups of our Lives...One Life to Soup?<br />
...As the Soup Turns?<br />
<br />
Oh whatever, this is a post about soup. <br />
<br />
<em>I am not a food blogger or photographer; I'm the first to admit these pictures do not make this look meal look appetizing, so you just have to trust my impeccable judgment. </em><br />
<br />
This is a little dish I've eaten at least the last four days in a row. It's quasi-healthy, and more importantly, it tastes like a million bucks. <a href="http://www.drweil.com/" target="_blank">This guy</a> recommended it to me. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6fPd_kQeSHeaLS08jYF-CYdrdLXNY_BdFSUIXCGlt0S1q4qpcifA0yPvnIlpD0SpojK1EoaArTXKmZqRTksKZ1Qb8itmrYMm36IpwxslwNyg86fqF90FgCd0BUuDOFtoYjiCoaZcmb9Y/s1600/broc+ingredients.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6fPd_kQeSHeaLS08jYF-CYdrdLXNY_BdFSUIXCGlt0S1q4qpcifA0yPvnIlpD0SpojK1EoaArTXKmZqRTksKZ1Qb8itmrYMm36IpwxslwNyg86fqF90FgCd0BUuDOFtoYjiCoaZcmb9Y/s640/broc+ingredients.png" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ingredients: head of broccoli (chopped), EVOO, garlic (chopped) and salt. [This is how Rachel Ray does her starting lineup for Week in a Day. Respek.]</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AYW_oDVk5gQ/TwOyvh_mpzI/AAAAAAAAA7U/S8qKZujmH40/s1600/broc+in+water.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="476" rea="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AYW_oDVk5gQ/TwOyvh_mpzI/AAAAAAAAA7U/S8qKZujmH40/s640/broc+in+water.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Add to simmering water. [Yes, I agree that broccoli in water is not appetizing. This picture is no exception.] Only let it go for 3-5 minutes. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsVFz6YaljHJQO-qO8N__66dZ8Z5WZuxQX8BM9JmmBrDpcz2ZRYSNHawLEBP6sk6GV-IyYZby3cHFoKyJBgTyW8sTKumU4hPc7W2WMS7hRZ4Bh9cPC-_curcYyhL20BqRCaK1AWGFWAZI/s1600/benny+and+carrot.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="474" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsVFz6YaljHJQO-qO8N__66dZ8Z5WZuxQX8BM9JmmBrDpcz2ZRYSNHawLEBP6sk6GV-IyYZby3cHFoKyJBgTyW8sTKumU4hPc7W2WMS7hRZ4Bh9cPC-_curcYyhL20BqRCaK1AWGFWAZI/s640/benny+and+carrot.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Offer Pug the last bit of the carrot you were munching on. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdMP0atTQKH1drefFp-DaKFNKD8CaaJPh8cnVDLUFcR2yy5nlfuHRFpFG1tpC-6AJh8of-8K4Qu_Yum91iePoVSDLimW9ZJEKHyXj08JGoNXeJNqmLsK4sJHB3ULCZ3VKm5yGb73QbpsM/s1600/chao.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdMP0atTQKH1drefFp-DaKFNKD8CaaJPh8cnVDLUFcR2yy5nlfuHRFpFG1tpC-6AJh8of-8K4Qu_Yum91iePoVSDLimW9ZJEKHyXj08JGoNXeJNqmLsK4sJHB3ULCZ3VKm5yGb73QbpsM/s640/chao.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Regret the offer when pandemonium ensues. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiCXW31eF3qR8KQTSCvJZhRd5nNs0RlkM3X6El8XV0FzMV6rN_qWkgco7rDbbdhbDH04AaTDSx0z1skKadynSS5FumqsW-Evu3dmXEpqoQJtOUNHtpwB0HmZkdmdznlF9nVD4APPe6jdQ/s1600/broc+drained.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="476" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiCXW31eF3qR8KQTSCvJZhRd5nNs0RlkM3X6El8XV0FzMV6rN_qWkgco7rDbbdhbDH04AaTDSx0z1skKadynSS5FumqsW-Evu3dmXEpqoQJtOUNHtpwB0HmZkdmdznlF9nVD4APPe6jdQ/s640/broc+drained.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drain brocc. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZrqC659XsJufFEu9-AED-s-xdP6glTxBopshYjz1J_kdwxbXW2-KewGse5SbKF-nxSpXTMXip0qEzVNOyMvkRMSHdwp_xj27cX9yKHGJkreC-blH0iliAA46EHE5jCsz119EVzhQ5cMg/s1600/soup.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="476" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZrqC659XsJufFEu9-AED-s-xdP6glTxBopshYjz1J_kdwxbXW2-KewGse5SbKF-nxSpXTMXip0qEzVNOyMvkRMSHdwp_xj27cX9yKHGJkreC-blH0iliAA46EHE5jCsz119EVzhQ5cMg/s640/soup.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Add to your favorite brand of tomato soup (mine is organic and comes in a box). Add cheese, scoop with saltines. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Yum. Lately it's been followed up with Haagen Dazs strawberry and lemon sorbets.<br />
<br />
Tonight after much backing and forthing with myself, I shredded and then lifted some weights. I only did it because I made a list and forced myself to work out before I could do any of the subsequent fun things on the list (that means you, bloggy!).<br />
<br />
1. Sometimes lists are necessary.<br />
2. Sometimes it's fun just to write your list out so you can cross stuff off of it and have a sense of accomplishment. <br />
<br />
Now I'm going to get my clothes ready for tomorrow (yes, that was another fun thing on the list!), meditate, journal and read. And maybe paint my nails (that was an optional fun thing). Good night!Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-74223214955790626742012-01-02T18:02:00.000-08:002012-01-02T18:02:47.060-08:00Back to the GrindI'd be lying if I said I wasn't sad about going back to work tomorrow. These past two weeks have FLOWN by, and every bit of the time off has been glorious. <br />
<br />
They say all good things must come to an end, but I'm looking forward to the little sweet spots that come with the grind. Working isn't always my favorite thing, <em>but obviously I have no choice</em>, and I believe there's a lot of wisdom and growth to be found in doing the things you HAVE to do, rather than only the things you WANT to do. <br />
<br />
Maybe someday my have to's and want to's will align. :)<br />
<br />
To send off my vacation, I went to the dog park, the movies and the grocery store. Two of those things I really enjoyed. I worked out, I ate some delicious ice cream, I even meditated and now I'm winding down with some journaling and reading. <br />
<br />
Five a.m. is gonna come way. too. fast.Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-32756908904454179072012-01-01T11:38:00.000-08:002012-01-01T11:38:20.196-08:00BeginningsAhhh, Beginnings. <em>Remember how I'm working on </em><a href="http://amystillontherun.blogspot.com/2011/12/massage-for-my-heart.html" target="_blank"><em>upping the sappy quality of my post titles</em></a><em>? One point for me!</em><br />
<br />
Okay, but...before we get into Beginnings, I think we need to have a word on Endings. <br />
<br />
Yesterday was all around the best year ending I've ever had. I ran not a few miles. (Bonus: I think after all my runs this past year, all toenails remaining in tact, yesterday's run is going to claim not one toenail but two. I am that hardcore.) (I also have never chaffed so bad in my entire life. Hard. Core.)<br />
<br />
I met up with some friends. Awesome, hilarious girlfriends. And then I went across town and met up with some more friends, who hosted a faboosh party. Then I went back across town and ended the night with that original group of awesome, hilarious girlfriends. And it was all good - very, very good! This was a New Year's Eve without stress, worry, any negative emotions or sadness. It was <em><span style="background-color: #3d85c6;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #3d85c6;">perfec</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #3d85c6;">t</span></em>, and it made me so, so thankful to end the year surrounded by all the best parts of 2011.<br />
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So that being said I'm just going to let these pictures speak for themselves and you can infer all the laughter, merriment and 2012 postulating that happened...<br />
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So THAT was a great night. And with that, I'm leaving behind 2011. <br />
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Today, I've lounged around and eaten a VERY cream cheese-y bagel and journaled and - most awesome thing ever alert - paid my last month's rent at my current apartment. Halleluuuu!<br />
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...And now it's time to get out of bed and get stuff done. LOTS to do in 2012, no time to spare! :)<br />
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All the best to you in this most wonderful New Beginning, First Day of the Year, Clean Slate, etc. This is our year. :)<br />Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436206184284811407.post-22722944641617469542011-12-31T12:42:00.000-08:002011-12-31T13:05:18.208-08:00Happy New Year!Yesterday was spent in Austin with my brothers and their wives, and while I normally detest playing games (board games, cards, anything athletic or competitive), I had such a great time!<br />
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The only game I tolerate is Apples to Apples, primarily because the only skill involved is out-ridiculous-ing everyone else. That I can usually do pretty well. <br />
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Despite my natural talent for losing, we had a great time hanging out and berating each other - you know, bonding. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj7QHGs47eYCJx0baSABJyeaRJjtetXKVQPmGPyWaPoOJcpQxqKFc5iH3SXk81Xjtn1ZdFzBan7lDm3JZ_DhVJ0WmlkSFfJQTGTOyRnFMBDoQcnrFE5TvnJzP5Noi0wJ9M36RPARp_3aE/s1600/DSC00771.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj7QHGs47eYCJx0baSABJyeaRJjtetXKVQPmGPyWaPoOJcpQxqKFc5iH3SXk81Xjtn1ZdFzBan7lDm3JZ_DhVJ0WmlkSFfJQTGTOyRnFMBDoQcnrFE5TvnJzP5Noi0wJ9M36RPARp_3aE/s640/DSC00771.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I had been out for about 20 minutes at this point, but it was still fun watching the mayhem and adrenaline associated with slapping games (this was ERF). </td></tr>
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No, I was much more inclinded to be like these guys...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqo-65R1JfbEgXa33Ch-W54yjkz6Rnk7vGMR0lAseXySbs1q5QSH4qvi-rUYamK_UwRkuWEUzq49s1zhf0MJHC4Vlblz6497J7NonF4DbP1hzZek_O5rVDNU6RWiyvEOZPjNWOQuwihIs/s1600/DSC00768.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqo-65R1JfbEgXa33Ch-W54yjkz6Rnk7vGMR0lAseXySbs1q5QSH4qvi-rUYamK_UwRkuWEUzq49s1zhf0MJHC4Vlblz6497J7NonF4DbP1hzZek_O5rVDNU6RWiyvEOZPjNWOQuwihIs/s640/DSC00768.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roger and Benny's cousin, Tanner</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitbpQcM9LaAswP_yM-vuP8vaaPSbmaqlnXiGEMTxKeR69PzlXIG_bU_KG99GS__2HHr9QD-FbenFWjL2sPlnWibH3JgHA_Z7PwSObpe9crlVJ-gScxnS3GZAb98ysUe0Qc5fONZY6S3Ww/s1600/DSC00770.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitbpQcM9LaAswP_yM-vuP8vaaPSbmaqlnXiGEMTxKeR69PzlXIG_bU_KG99GS__2HHr9QD-FbenFWjL2sPlnWibH3JgHA_Z7PwSObpe9crlVJ-gScxnS3GZAb98ysUe0Qc5fONZY6S3Ww/s640/DSC00770.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roger and Benny's other cousin, Viggo</td></tr>
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Dee lended (lent?) me a couple books, and I'm already loving this one:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLAd7zLXwweLbNAPTxvb3rkgiIMtvz-az5BJisgy1AoBV2z-w6WqeI4V0Gf9_s6WQqXvzZYbY-p9-tCMkkjHAKL4j4Xt7J-0ACUB9FSvuA56yhmV6C0EYmxLsEn1eo6yjkyEvSkRtwGrU/s1600/Charleson_ScentMissing-jckt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLAd7zLXwweLbNAPTxvb3rkgiIMtvz-az5BJisgy1AoBV2z-w6WqeI4V0Gf9_s6WQqXvzZYbY-p9-tCMkkjHAKL4j4Xt7J-0ACUB9FSvuA56yhmV6C0EYmxLsEn1eo6yjkyEvSkRtwGrU/s640/Charleson_ScentMissing-jckt.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Scent-Missing-Partnership-Search---Rescue/dp/B004X8W5P8/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1325363723&sr=8-1" target="_blank">Scent of the Missing by Susannah Charleson</a></td></tr>
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Dogs are such amazing creatures. While mine certainly couldn't search and/or rescue a fuzzy toy right in front of their faces, much less a person, I very much relate to this magnet:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguXGNoA614krF0enff3A3tB-cI2eoVhEH_CIW59eqSzy8FAsdeQ005YmBgGeZ3E8gq9Hnc3nCYAPhvCNcimR8Nwn_E4oUA9Szszirr_PwK2bNmLmp4r1kOvFDtWE0sjLBU8Pi4TCJKHjs/s1600/who+rescued+who.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguXGNoA614krF0enff3A3tB-cI2eoVhEH_CIW59eqSzy8FAsdeQ005YmBgGeZ3E8gq9Hnc3nCYAPhvCNcimR8Nwn_E4oUA9Szszirr_PwK2bNmLmp4r1kOvFDtWE0sjLBU8Pi4TCJKHjs/s320/who+rescued+who.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Okay, so I got Roger from a breeder as a pup, but I always think of Benny, my rescue puggy, when I see this. </td></tr>
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Anyways, yesterday - super fun. <br />
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Today - woke up at 4:15 and hit the pavement to end the year on a long, high, sweaty note: 20 miles.<br />
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Most of the Houston marathoners are already tapering, but I really felt the need to get in at least one long run before Jan. 15, and today was finally that day. Ninja ran with me for about 11 miles, and that was truly the only thing that kept me going. I have learned I am NOT a solo runner...it's just too boring and all I can think about is either how much pain I'm in or how bored I am. <br />
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So with that behind me, all that remains until 2012 are the parties and the champagne...after I take my nap, of course. <br />
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Happy New Year! Be safe and enjoy!Amy Stillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14639622816850507227noreply@blogger.com0