Me vs. The Tree Stump

With less than two months away from Tough Mudder, my workouts have changed to include tasks that simulate actual obstacles on the course. Last Sunday, I ran a hill. Ten times. And not just any hill, I mean, this hill would be classified as the black diamond of hills at some mediocre ski resort. It kicked my ass nine times (the first attempt was the only time I didn't feel like my legs and lungs would explode on the last step). 


So today, during my five mile run, I decided to simulate "Hold Your Wood." It involves picking up a log anywhere from 15 - 30 pounds and hiking with it for close to a mile. So there I am, in suburban St. Louis Park digging around this park for a log. My first attempt turned out to be a nest for some weird insects to which I screamed and darted the other direction. And then, like a golden halo of light, I saw it. A tree stump. 

Without exaggeration, it was a little over a foot in diameter and weighed about 20 pounds. "Perfect" I thought. So I bent down, hoisted it onto my shoulder and began my mile hike back home. There were several things wrong with this entire scenario:

1. The stump was too big for my pathetically narrow shoulders. There was no good way to balance or carry it without leaning to one side. This made me look like one leg was significantly shorter than the other as I trekked up the hill.


2. My mile hike involved a good quarter-mile slog on the frontage road alongside highway 100. It is a VERY BUSY frontage road. I can only imagine the conversations inside each car as they approached me, dragging this HUGE TREE STUMP along a frontage road in my bright pink under armour shirt marching crookedly like a pirate with a wooden leg.


3. Tree stumps are not smooth. In fact, when they are covered in burrs and dirt and pine needle thingys, they are quite sharp. As I hauled my trophy up the frontage road, the damn thing kept shifting on my teeny-tiny shoulders. As a result, it looks like a mountain lion got a hold of my neck and used it as an emery board.


What could make this story even better, you ask? Josh and I are attending a Mad Men premiere party tonight where I have to wear a dress that does not cover my "mauling by tree stump" injuries. And I'm going with a co-worker who will no doubt ask why I'm covered in scratches. 

So here I am on the couch, writing this post and rubbing first aid ointment patches all over my neck to prevent infection and hope the redness goes down in the next two hours.

After Every Meal

It's been almost a month since I hopped onto Josh's diet wagon and, overall things are going great. I've been sticking to our dinner plans, eating lots of veggies and staying away from processed foods as much as possible. In fact, I was so excited about my progress that I bragged to Josh that I had cut back dessert to once a day.

Me: "And I didn't have dessert tonight because I had a cookie for lunch today."
Josh: "Wait. How often do you NORMALLY have dessert?"
Me: "After every meal except breakfast, like most people. But sometimes I have it after breakfast too."
Josh: "Seriously?!"
Me: "Yes. Why? How often are people supposed to have dessert?"
Josh: "Um, like maybe 3 times a week."
Me: "What?!"

Thus began a heated debate over the acceptable instances of dessert in a normal eating plan. Now, would I love to have a piece of chocolate cake or ice cream sundae after every meal? Yes- that would be awesome. Do I? No. Dessert is anything from a small handful of fruitsnacks to cocoa roasted almonds to a bite-size snicker bar.

But Josh argues that it's not about dessert per se, it's about my sugar intake. All those little sugar grams add up and that's what gets people into trouble. He blurts out "If you want to lose five pounds for this race, you can't have dessert after EVERY meal, Ashley."

In normal Ashley fashion, I cross my arms and start walking faster in a huff. It's not fair. I'm fighting with feelings and he's fighting with facts. Clearly, it's an injustice and he is wrong.

We didn't come to an agreement. But he did offer to make "Ms. Trunchbull's Chocolate Cake" from my favorite book, Matilda, as a peace offering. I happily obliged- but we'll save it until AFTER the race.