Your perinuem, Hemmingway, and WINNER ANNOUNCED

I said the P-word.

I was teaching a group exercise class at the YMCA a couple of weeks ago and decided to mix it up a bit.  I announced that the next hour was not for the faint of heart and that I was going to say the p-word.  Perineum.  Women need to strenghten theirs.  Men love have pressure applied to theirs and a strong one prevents kweefing.

According to wikipedia, the perieum is generally defined as the surface region in both males and females between the pubic symphsis and the coccyx.  There are muscles involved and the stronger the better for everyone in your life.  In Yoga that little area of utopia is called mula bandha and is considered a root source of power.  I remind the class of Kegal exercises - which, during labor and delivery class, we were told to practice in line at the grocery store and no one would know.  We talk about the pelvic floor and agree everything grows from a strong root so we should turn our attention to our perineum and stay aware of it during the whole class.  Strengthening, tightening our pelvic floors.  I can't beleive I didn't get fired.  I like to think I helped make the world a better place - less bladder control issues, more kegalling at the grocery, and strong roots at home.  I feel kind of like I saved the world.

What does this have to do with Ernest Hemmingway?  I read recently that his famous home in Key West has been added to a list of historic literary landmarks so I decided to dig a little into to his life and works.  I was not aware of the breadth and depth of despair his drinking caused nor did I have a grasp on his greatness.  His life, a fascinating tale.  His talent, almost unfathomably vast. 

 And then it occurred to him that he was going to die.  It came with a rush, not as a rush of water, nor of wind; but of a sudden evil-smelling emptiness, and the odd thing was that the hyena slipped lightly along the edge of it."  (The Snows of Kilimanjaro)

Put that root in your pipe and smoke it.  Don't shy away from the P-word or any other not-so-politically correct expression.  People could laugh like hyenas or you might win a Nobel prize.
Speaking of winners...

Anne, you did it!  You won a book, smudge, and jelly beans.  The odds were in your favor and I love you for it.  I love comments!  Send me your address and  your goodies are on their way.

Say something edgy.  Let me know how it goes.  Do your Kegals.  Out.

Now that's what I'm talking 'bout! (Giveaway)

This weekend is the first anniversary of my first marathon.  

This is my 50th post. 

Can just girls kweef?

First things first.  Here's me after Shamrock 2009 (Va. Beach)...

I am on the right with the aluminum foil around my body.  (I thought that was cool.)  My dear friend Dawn (who has PR'd her second or third half marathon) is holding me up.  In more ways than one.  Dang, what a day.   Tough like I've never experienced.  My spirit won out but not after a nail-scratching, tearful fight.  Not to bore you with the details but at mile 12 my calf failed me, at mile 22 I have NEVER been so miserable.  Never.  At mile 25 I saw my family with the 'Mom's the Bomb' sign I was born again.  At mile 26.2 I cried because I saw the clock and because it was over.  Joy.  Disappointment.  Relief.  Joy.  I will forever remember this date (3/21) because this girl who's always ached to move and dance with joy found the spirit of an athlete deep inside.  My stats just are what they are.  No excuses.  Eight months later, I came back and cut almost an HOUR off my time.  My happier marathon, with the clock and finish in sight.  Now that's what I'm talking 'bout!  

And now.  This is my 50th post.  BFD, you say and really I agree.  But I like benchmarks, landmarks, and places to hang my hat.  To celebrate I am giving away three items in a care package.  Some of you who have visited ownyourbackbone before, know I love all things running, Yoga and references to the obscene.  AND I LIKE TO PLEASE EVERYONE.  A curse, but it's here so what the hay?
1.)  Book. Brain Training for Runners, By Matt Fitzgerald.  I have two copies,  I'll give you the new one.  I swear.

2.)  Packet of Smudge .  Actually dried sage wrapped and bound like a faggot (for the faint of heart, a faggot is also a bundle of sticks)  Look it up.  This is to signify my love of the spiritual side of things.  It is used by the ancients and native Amercans to cleanse and purify.
3.)  If you aren't into running,Yoga or smoking herbs this will please you. A SUPER-SIZED BAG OF JELLY BEANS.  Now that's what I'm talking 'bout.
All you have to do to win this booty is...

Follow me.  (1 entry)
For you 22 faithful, just comment as many times as you'd like (1 entry per comment).
Comment and become a new follower.  That makes 2.
Link me to your site.   (1 entry)
I will have one of my children randomly select the winner.   

And now, the best (content) for last.  Can just girls kweef?  

My son asked me last night what a kweef was so, AS USUAL I go into a long explanation about how its slang and dirty and has to do with body functions and air traveling through holes.  I use all the technical terms and we determine that only girls can kweef since it's (in 2 words or less which is a huge challenge) A FRONTAL FART.  After I tell him if he uses the term I'll take his cell phone, I looked it up.  Turns out it's just a silent but violent one that gets caught up front no matter what you have packing.  The slightest move releases it and anyone nearby is in danger.  
Son, I was wrong.  I'm okay with that.  I once ran a 5+ hour marathon after training my ass off.  It's been a year now but  I'm okay with that.  Just so you know, I have NEVER kweefed.  But I love to smudge....  (hmmmmmmm)
Help me celebrate Shamrock 2009, my 50th rambling, and body parts/functions that unite us one and all.  Say something to me so I can then respond "Now that's what I'm talking 'bout."  And it'll make sense.  Sort of.

Have you ever kweefed?  Out.

My Camel Toe (Photo)

WTF?!  
Camel Toe - a slang term that refers to the outline of the labia majora seen through tight clothes.  (Wikipedia)
Remember the crazy ladies in pink from the Suntrust Richmond Marathon with the poster that said:  

Camel Toe Check Here...  friends don't let friend run with camel toes.  
This was right after the Lee Bridge at mile 17.  
In tribute, here's my camel (pose)...

Here's my toe...

Please note the red area on the top of my foot.  A rug burn not from camel toe inspection activities but a few too many rabbits, I think.

Again, WTF?!

Rabbit pose.  This is not me.  My Bikram outfits aren't that cute.  I wish.

For now here's me making sure don't have an actual camel toe..

Almost impossible to see what you have packing in Nike running shorts.  But a girl who thinks clothes are claustrophobic in a room at 107 degrees wants to be sure.  

This pose is a great way to see what grass cutting may be is necessary for bathing suit season.  My awesome cousin Marie performs that service.  I got my (head) hair cut today by her and she provided me with great fodder for my next post.  My 50th.  It will sport a giveaway.  Stay tuned.  Tend to your rabbits, your camels, your toes and hug yourself tight like a Japanese ham sandwich.  WTF?!  Look up Bikram and figure it out. 

Running has been back-burnered but still simmers.  20 miles this week.  Turning up the heat next. 

BTW, thanks for the plastic surgery input.  Not doing it.  I wouldn't been able to press my face to my shins or monitor my camel toe for weeks and weeks and we can't have that.   Sending love to all who weighed in on the topic by comment, email or phone call.  I'm a lucky gal.  Glass waaaaaay full.  

How have you been spending your time lately?  Do your friends think you are crazy?  

Quick! Do I need Plastic Surgery?

This has nothing to do with running , Bikram , my children or looking for the Meaning of Life.  This post is completely driven by vanity and opportunity.

I have two weeks to decide if I want plastic surgery on my face.

Here's today...

If the light is just right or the angle just so, you can see the irregular line from my hairline down through my left eyebrow.  Friends I see often don't notice it any more, folks I haven't seen in a while wonder if I did get that tattoo and why the fascination with railroad tracks and the letter "L".  I never dated a Lonnie or Larry but I do have Labia, Legs, and a Larynx...  hmmm.

Anyway.  

Here's 7 months ago...

Here's the day after (about 13 months ago)...

If you're done puking, I need you to focus and give me your opinion.   My insurance will cover any corrective surgery resulting from my (gasp!) skin cancer within a certain period of time.  And time is running out.. 

Here's how I see it:

I don't mind the scar but at 42 if I can get a little forehead lift or eyelid tightening on Aetna's dime, why not?  All sarcasm aside I do have some annoying droopiness in my left eye leftover from this experience.  My forehead is stretched in a weird way that makes me always look worried.  But I really love the movie Shrek.

... She was lookin' pretty dumb 

with her finger and her thumb

in the shape of and "L" on her forehead

This is surgery I DON'T NEED.  Life's little scars give you character but dang isn't it nice to put your best face forward?  

Moral of the story.... wear sunscreen and don't ignore a spot that randomly bleeds for 2 years.  

Would you do it?