Tuesday, March 19, 2013

The Best Little Hoar(d) House in Texas (aka, New York)

The velcro that holds my Yur Buds iPhone arm band together fell off as I was heading out the door today.  Annoying.  I have to krazy glue it once I find the krazy glue in Junk Drawer #1 (We have 3.  Please tell me we're not the only ones with more than one.).  The drawers seem to be backless pits filled with screws, brackets, nails, and everything else Pete thinks he may need one day and can't afford to buy at Home Depot.  Or maybe he's planning on donating them.  Those are the usual hoarding answers I get from him.  He is one box of scratched vinyl Bread records away from me calling the A&E or TLC producers for a hoarding intervention.  I digress.  I couldn't find the krazy glue.  Maybe my lovely neighbor has some we can borrow.  Hint.  Hint.

Pete relaxing in the office.  Just kidding.  I have no idea who this man is.  Our house doesn't look like this (yet), but our attic, garage, and parts of the basement are filled with crap I've never seen my husband use in the almost 14 years (yikes) we've been married.

The library emailed me last night that my  Advanced Marathoning book arrived.  I read one page and already I love it.  I photocopied the 18 week 55 mile peak plan and already taped it to the refrigerator (3 rolls of tape in Junk Drawer #1).    According to them,  it is best to have a base of minimum 25 miles per week (preferable 30+) before attempting the program.  I'm glad I've been running 30 mpw for the past few months.  Bring it on!

5 miles on a gray, damp morning in 36 degrees.


  1. The irony is that we all have these drawers filled with random junk, yet we never seem to find what we need when we look through them. My wife is constantly asking if we need the things in those drawers. Without hesitation, I say yes. Then she throws it all away once I forget about it. Works like a charm.