What are we talking about today?

Some days have themes. I don't necessarily post something in each of these topic areas every week.

Sunday: Church-related or spiritual things.
Monday: Running.
Tuesday: Books.
Wednesday: Transportation.
Friday: Green living.

24 April 2007

Running on earth, because space is out of the question

Some of the Earth Day specials last week were amazing. How anyone can see some of the world's most beautiful places and not see God is beyond me. If you missed the broadcasts, you missed out.

My sister was astounded to hear that I wore a dress to the funeral last week. Hey, even I have standards.

I wish I had done something exciting last week that would be worth blogging. In fact, I wish I could remember anything at all that I did last week. It's all gone completely. I did recruit (well, dragooned is a better word) a new running partner, who I dragged from bed at 6 AM on Saturday to run 4 miles. He didn't seem to mind too much, since he talked the entire time. He says he is trying to get me to talk, to make sure I'm not working too hard. I told him the only way I could be both running and not working too hard is to walk instead. Fortunately, he is willing to acquiesce when I request his silence so I can concentrate on getting one foot in front of the other.

I did go to a spa-themed Ladies' Day on Saturday, and amused the other women by my non-touchiness when we tried to give one another massages. I'd really rather go around stiff and tense than have someone (other than Chad, that is) give me a massage. At least they didn't try to hug me.

No, wait, someone did. But I got away.


Kar said...

You're so funny; my sister's like that--not touchy-feely at all. Somehow I missed knowing this until we were both out of the house. But then I guess I didn't really know I *am* touchy-feely til around that time, too. Maybe I'm just homesick all the time. I don't know.

Su said...

I probably would never have realised this trait in myself if I hadn't gone from aimland, to Scotland, then back to aimland. If those are the representative places for the extremes of toucy-feely-ness, then they ought to be! So the sharp contrast kind of hammered it home for me-- Scotland good; aimland not so much. In this respect, anyhow.