Tag Archives: running

six words to run the world.

Back when we used to blog semi-regularly, when we disappeared for a while, we’d usually apologize by starting our next post with “OH HAHA HEY REMEMBER US?” But at this point it’s been nearly a year, so fuck that. Sorry we’re not sorry. We’ve been off doing, like, really important things. (No, that’s not true. But we both did start Tumblr bloggies, because, frankly, they’re easier to keep up with because all you have to do is reblog other people’s photos and nice quotes and YouTube videos and you’re under no obligation to even write six words about them. We never formally admitted that here because then it would be like Six Words was over, and I don’t ever want it to be over. WE CAN’T QUIT YOU, SIX WORDS. Now that I’ve mentioned it, though: Kathleeny can be found at everythingisavesselforgoatcheese.tumblr.com and I’m at playingthedrumswithamaraca.tumblr.com. Only one of us has a Tumblr with a six-word title, and it’s me, so I win.)

I’ve been thinking about this here neglected bloggy lately for two reasons:

  1. On Thanksgiving, I randomly read a bunch of my old Thanksgiving posts, and then I felt all emo and missed it here.
  2. Kathleen and I are MAJOR runners now, and when naming our team (read: just the two of us) for an upcoming race, she offered “Six Words to Run the World” as an option, and then I felt all emo and missed it here.

Now that the obligatory re-introduction part is over, let me tell you about how Kathleen and I run now. First, you should probably know that in college, Kathleen and I did a lot of powerwalking (as in we powerwalked like six times total over the course of four years) because we really hated running. We called it our P-Dubs club, and talked about making t-shirts with hilarious sayings like “Running Is for Cowards” and “Runners Find the Dead Bodies.”

Fast forward a few years, and we started running because Kathleen found a Women in Politics 5K and obviously we had to participate. An important thing happened during this run. While neither of us experienced some bullshit like a runner’s high, the race organizer people (or one of the organizers’ boyfriends who had a digital camera, because this run took place on a college campus and wasn’t very legitimate) took an epic photograph of Kathleen and me, wearing matching t-shirts and holding hands as we triumphantly crossed the finish line. (Keep in mind, this was a 5K. Kathleen’s boyfriend ran more than a 5K, uphill, to watch us run ours.)

In theory, this photo was really fucking adorable. In practice, Kathleen looks adorable and I look like a man. Two people who knew it was me said “Holy shit, you look like a dude” upon seeing the photo, and one person who saw the photo and didn’t know the back story thought it was an unattractive male acquaintance we had just been discussing. Naturally, that shit had to get FatBoothed. In all her pixelated glory, here she blows:

If a FatBoothed photo of the ugliest photo ever taken of you doesn’t keep you running, nothing will.

I know what you’re thinking, and no, you cannot have my number, and no, this is not about to become a running blog. I mostly just wanted to show you this photo and say hello. I’ve missed you.

[Posted by Mallory]


Filed under adventures, blogging, health, six word memoirs, sports, thoughts

joggers always find the dead bodies.

Let me tell you about what happens when I go running.

Before I go running, it’s typically a battle of Good Mallory versus Lazy Mallory. Good Mallory says “Hey! It’s nice out! When it’s nice out sometimes you enjoy the run for almost the first four minutes! Go do it!” Lazy Mallory counters with “But you were kind of sick yesterday! Don’t worry! Keep lying in your bed!” Good Mallory says “You don’t feel sick anymore, do you? Also, what time did you wake up today?” Bad Mallory sheepishly admits “Um, 1 p.m.” Then Good Mallory finishes it up with “EXACTLY. I win, you lazy ass. Go running.”

(It should go without saying that by running I mean jogging slowly for a short amount of time.)

So I turn off my schizo and head out for my run. There’s a nice little wooded path by my house, which is pretty flat and not that long (that’s what she said?). I go running there regularly (read: every other month).

For the first, oh, six minutes, things are going well. Nice temperature, I’m digging my On-The-Go playlist, etc. etc. Then some asshole rock jumps out and trips me, my right foot bends awkwardly under me, and I fall. Hard. My train of thoughts was as follows:

1. Hahahhahahahahahahahahaha.

2. Oh shit. What if this is one of those moments where nothing hurts and then all of a sudden you look and somehow your femur bone is sticking out through your shin?

3. If that were to happen, how would I get back to my apartment?

4. Hey, my knee is bleeding. Bad ass.

5. Did that guy with the dog see me fall?

6. Does this mean I can go home and lie on the couch?

7. Even better, can I call in sick at work for this?

8. I guess this is why uncoordinated people who hate running shouldn’t run.

Before the dude with the dog can get to me, I stand my sorry self back up and start hobbling away. Guy with dog looks at me with pity and is all “Uhhh, you okay?”

In the days since my devastating and life-threatening injury, my ankle has gone from normal looking to softball size to cankle-esque (EW) with a purpleish hue. And I’m rocking an ace bandage. It’s like I’m a real athlete! Also, I got to feel pretty justified doing nothing for the past few days. R.I.C.E., baby:

I understand that this is a crappy, generally useless photo. But hey, camera phones!

I understand that this is a crappy, generally useless photo. But hey, camera phones!

Throughout this whole harrowing process I’ve learned one very important lesson: mild injuries are WAY less fun when you don’t get to skip school for them.

[Posted by Mallory]


Filed under adventures, humor, sports

who has hobbies these days, anyway?!

I recently got an email from my grad school requesting some information for an internal “facebook” that will be passed out to faculty, staff, and other students. It asked for all the basic, easy stuff — undergraduate university, undergraduate major, favorite food — and then it hit me with a doozie: it asked for my hobbies. Uhhh…

I mean, who has hobbies anymore? In a perfect world, I’d be able to write “calligraphy, birdwatching, knitting, table tennis, and volunteering with refugees from Kazakhstan.” But folks, it ain’t a perfect world. If I were to be honest, I’d list “lounging, blogging, watching Jon & Kate Plus 8, drinking outdoors, eating, hanging out with friends, and, uhh, sleeping?” among my hobbies. Those don’t cut it, either. I turned to my sister for advice:

Maddy: Well, you like sitting.

Mallory: Maddy, I KNOW, but that doesn’t count. What about baseball games? I like baseball games! I’m watching one right now!

Maddy: You only like baseball games when you are eating a hot dog and drinking a beer and sitting in the Rockpile, where you don’t even have to watch the game.

Mallory: Touche. Ummmm…I’ve been, uh, running a lot lately…

Maddy: “A lot” might imply that you run marathons. You occasionally run for 20 minutes, and you hate every second of it.

Mallory: Concerts! I like going to concerts!

Maddy: [Rolls eyes.]

You see my dilemma. I settled on the following list of hobbies: reading (I really do like that! It’s generic, but whatever, beggars can’t be choosers); writing (I blog, and email my friends a lot); biking (well, see, I biked tons last summer and I think that if I put air in the tires, I’d actually use my bike a lot!); swimming (I used to be a swimmer in high school; now I enjoy sunbathing); and spending time with my friends (read: eating and drinking. A lot).

Sigh. Maybe my grandma can teach me to needlepoint.

[Posted by Mallory]

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Filed under blogging, drinks, family, food, music, random, sports, TV