Staying safe at night is a priority for me. Working at 4:30a and leaving the house at 3:30a means I have to be vigilant in the morning. Working until 2:30 or 1:30a sometimes means I have to be vigilant late at night. The following are my tried and true tricks for staying safe in the big city late at night and early in the morning, whatever takes you outside.
Mom: Please note, none of these things have happened to me — most likely because I’m so overprepared.
Why hello strangers! I’ve clearly gotten a little bit busy since coming back from Ontario. It’s been crappy weather, some respiratory illness for me and the flu for Manfriend, and , oh yeah, the mystical 80 hour work week reared its ugly head thanks to some extra guests at Job 2 this week.
(Note: That may sound sarcastic, but I’m actually grateful for their business. Keeps us busy in one of the slower months of the year and I prefer Job 2 to Job 1. Job 1 = necessity at the moment. Job 2 = loads of fun).
Life has been a tad crazy. Along with changes that I’m trying to figure out, I haven’t been able to work out (read: stupid respiratory illness) and I’ve been focused on recovering. Which is a good thing to focus on, but I’m tired of sitting still. I want to MOVE!
Hey everyone! I hope your Saturday’s are epic and wonderful. I’d like to start by thanking you all for your emails, comments, and general discussion both on facebook and twitter regarding my letter to Lance Armstrong. It received a lot more attention than I expected, and I appreciate all your comments and was really excited to be able to generate some discussion on the issue. So thank you!
In honor of awards ceremony being upon us, I have decided to host a tiny little awards ceremony of my own. And so, without further ado, welcome to the 1st annual Live Travel Eat and Run Awards show! *clap at your computer please and imagine thousands clapping with you*
Dear Lance Armstrong:
Tonight the world will flip their TV channels to the Oprah network. Reporters and bloggers will flock to see what it is that you shared with the woman who stands at the pulpit of the modern day confessional. News stations will report on it for days.
I don’t know a lot but I know for certain I won’t be there. With the exception of what flies by as I scroll my twitter and facebook feeds, I will not read. I will not click links, I will not pick up the newspaper or magazine. I am determined to not care about you anymore.
I am ready to run.
After my pulled shoulder, pinched nerve, broken toe and overly emotional week I am ready to hit the road. The most exercise I’ve had since December 30th is stretching to ensure I’m limber while catching the bouquet at Manfriend’s cousins wedding (which I didn’t catch).
I’m just going to take my ipod and let my nike running app do the tracking because I left my beautiful Garmin in Vancouver so I didn’t lose it. I have lost many things while being here so this is not an absurd possibility.
I pledge to always remember
Manfriend is hilarious.
I know you’ve never met him and you have know idea what he looks like (he is hidden in the background of one picture on this blog if you feel like going on a Manfriend hunt), but he is hilarious.
The other day I shared with him a post from Run With Kate (one of my favourite bloggers) that Mr. The Rake (her Manfriend equivalent) wrote all by himself. It’s hilarious and explains why all us runners will die alone. You can read it here.
He laughed for like an hour. And declared he and Mr. The Rake were best friends.
Hey everyone! I hope your weeks are going well! I’m really excited because I’m going to be an #elf4health this holiday season, and you can be one too!
But Amalia… what is an Elf4Health?
I know its not Monday, and I know I’m not Southern and have no right to the “ya’ll” phrase but it felt right so we are going for it.
Deep Down Inside I am a Southern Belle
It’s time to hit that reset button. Note: When I told this to Manfriend, he immediately went
Manfriend: *makes computer noises* bleep boop bleep
Sometimes, life hits you in the face with a giant, fat brick of crap and you wonder why you even get out of bed. You end up wishing silently that you have some excuse to not go to work so you won’t have to deal with the same stuff over and over again.
That was me last week. Seriously though, you have to remember that ITS OKAY to feel like that. It’s okay to feel like your life is being taken over by some psychotic force out of your control.
As long as you eventually realize that being hit by a truck is not going to make your day better, and spend some time in the sunshine, and slowly, but surely, you wake up and realize that things are not that bad. If you can’t get out of your funk, there may be something more serious going on, and I urge you to see a doctor. I mean, I’ve been there. Depression is not a joke, and not something to take lightly. It’s okay to ask for help.