Making a mountain...

Out of a molehill? No, really ~ I’m not.

I would hate for others to think I am obsessed (cough, cough) about the HM this Sunday, cause I’m not.

I am loving all the comments about hills ~ and it’s great to know there are others out there that are as hill-averse as I am! (and geeze, Mendy ~ I would never think you are snobby ~ silly girl!)

The website for Valley of the Sun for some reason, removed the elevation chart I posted a couple days ago, and replaced it with this ~

Okay, this essentially tells me nothing. *sigh*

I told Lisa that all her recent weight training and time spent with her new gym peeps better payoff ~ looks like she’ll have a few inclines to carry me up! ;)

I am also hoping to meet up with Eileen (Running Knitter) sometime before the race (she won’t like me if we meet after the race), as she is running the half-marathon relay.

Also, Taryn is coming to town with her new-running-buddy ~ so I’m excited about seeing her too!


In other miscellaneous ramblings, I am finally down 4.5 pounds!!!!

[insert happy dance HERE!]

I am a bit short of my goal, and most likely won’t hit the 8 pound loss by the time I leave on vacation next weekend, but hey ~ I’ll certainly take a 6 pounds loss just as well! It’s been slow, but consistent. Just like me ;)

And finally, I wouldn’t feel like I’ve done my blogger civic duty if I didn’t pass along with very important PSA. It’s primarily directed at those who have kids ~ and hair ~ so if you don’t have a combination of the two, you can move on to a more amusing blog ;)

For those who fit the bill, please BEWARE of THESE:

This seemingly harmless contraption, when dripping in bubble soap and in the hands of a 3 1/2 year old, is able to take a chunk of human hair, and within nanoseconds, turn it into a dredlock-like state, which also resembles a hair ball that a cat might deposit on your carpet. Once this hairball is hanging from your head, and you are past the initial shock, you must use scissors to cut a chunk out of your hair, much like in your grade school days when a piece of bubble gum went astray. Then you are left with a bad haircut, and soapy hairball, and if you’re like me and freak out and lose your shizznit ~ a crying child.

The moral of this story: go the old-fashioned way and make the kid blow the bubbles himself :)

Happy almost-Friday!