Hot and sticky under the collar.

I set a goal to run a half-marathon (21.2km) by the end of the month. Lola says I’m in my PRIME.

I even purchased a new pair of running shoes last Friday: the Mizuno Wave Rider 29, which I named “Skid Marks” on Strava. One of Strava’s features allows you to track the mileage on your equipment. My three bikes are named Sodapop, Ponyboy, and Cherry Valance. My shoes are called Runny Poos, and now, I have Skid Marks as well.

So far, I have put 5.8km on my Skid Marks, and I can’t do any more for the next bit because I am healing a re-tattoo of my stupid yellow-bellied goose and my underbite-having flying fish.

Continue reading “Hot and sticky under the collar.”

One year anniversary of getting KO by an old lady.

It’s an easy date to remember: smack in the middle of the year. I scurried away from the bike shop around 10am to get a donut from the coffee shop to celebrate. Fifteen minutes after finishing my donut, I come into the lunchroom to wash a handful of mini cucumbers and find a box of donuts, free for all, on the table.

I was encouraged to have a second donut. I’d lost interest at that point and chomped down on my mini cucumbers in front of that box of donuts with a sense of superiority about my dietary choices.

Continue reading “One year anniversary of getting KO by an old lady.”

White tooth supremacy.

Other possible titles were:

  • My bedroom smells Gucci
  • The time Laura picked up a 1,500-page book without realizing it
  • Spring?
  • Billy and the Clonesaurus

Meet Ol’ Chomper:

Ol’ Chomper is my newest flipper, which means I went from being three teeth down to just one. Two of my crowns were installed last Thursday. The third is three months away, as the dentist wants to re-do the middle implant. This means you guys are going to have to deal with more posts about the status of my mouth for the next bit. Ol’ Chomper is a shade whiter than the rest of my teeth, hence the post title.

Continue reading “White tooth supremacy.”

All the hearts.

Let’s get right into it:

On Tuesday, I received a text from my uncle telling me Opa was in the hospital with heart problems. I was told not to come and that he was doing ok.

My 99-year-old opa is in the hospital? How was I supposed to stay optimistic? I only had about 30 minutes left on the clock, so I told myself I could finish the bike I was working on.

I couldn’t do it. With 15 minutes to go, I bailed and walked my bike home as I was too distressed to ride. Upon arriving home, I crashed on the couch, exhausted from all my emotions. I woke up from my nap around 8pm and checked my phone.

Opa had a heart attack.

Continue reading “All the hearts.”