— Lady-Friend, 2011

So you know my [insert gushing/fawning adjective here] Lady-Friend likes to run. Not a “Hey, I enjoy a leisurely jog around the block” kind of run– I’m talking “Wow, this shearing pain up my leg feels terrible but man I feel ALIVE… I wonder if I can rub another dinner plate-sized blister into my foot by mile 32″ kind of run. And hey- that’s cool. There’s something euphoric and therapeutic about that. So I hear.

But man, that’s one of a million things that make Lady-Friend an inspiration, tougher than me on my best day and pretty much one-in-a-million. So kids in tow, we took an 8 hour road trip to Moab Utah last weekend for the Moab Half Marathon (8 hours !? But you thought Moab was only 4 and a half from our place? Yeah, don’t ask… but it involves no map, relying on GPS and two missed exits… Shaddap). I was rocking the support role (IE… “I’m not running but I’ll pretend I’m doing something to compensate for the fitness guilt) while the kids pretty much rocked the “I want to do anything but be in this car” role. Which was awesome.

So the Moab Half marathon is unique in that a herd of panting, sweating, short-short wearing runners trickle through 11 miles of breath-taking canyon on a closed course and empty out on Moab’s main street, where they run past a trailer park, some dirt, a few houses and down a thoroughfare lined with a lot of cheering support-folk and their leashed dogs and kids, which is no small feat. There’s a lot of people who run this race and there’s no thinning of the pack– they stuff it from start to end. Let’s say if you wanted to take a left hand turn onto mainstreet with the half marathon going, you better have packed a lunch and a pair of adult diapers.

So, with adult diapers in tow I snapped a few pics of Lady-Friend making pony-tails look good, Iron Men look like weak-willed pansies and generally putting 13 miles of Canyon Country road to shame.

Chalk one up for saying your prayers and eating your vegetables.

Lady friend here– hijacking Vintonville for a little cheese time. This post technically should have been up on Wednesday but I knew Man-Friend totally forgot [Dan Edit: I'd argue, but it's completely true] our nine year anniversary and didn’t want to add stress and pressure on him trying to scramble to do something for our special day (yes I’m a girl and yes it was ok he forgot our anniversary). So what happened to this post going up on Thursday? Ummmm make-Cafe-Rio-Yourself Day happened.

Brutal.

So here we are Friday and the “Bliss and Blisters” post comes to fruition.

I can honestly say nine years has been blissful but it also had its share of blisters along the way. Every marriage has its ups and downs but I think it’s all how you handle the downs that make the ups that much more amazing. We have learned and come so far from our first (slightly brutal) year. We work at our marriage everyday, and whoever said marriage is easy and total bliss without blisters is a crock of crap.

That being said, marriage is fabulous and there is nothing else like it.

Nine years ago I made the best decision of my life. My Man-Friend is simply amazing. He is the BEST husband, friend, papa, and man anyone could ask for. He is witty, charming, smart, hilarious, driven, and passionate. He is sensitive, caring, kind, and selfless. He snuggles me close even when I’m a human torch. He plays with my hair even when he doesn’t want to. He listens to my drama and “tries” not to fix it. He puts his family above anything else. He tells me he loves me EVERYDAY!

Thank you MF for being simply amazing, I LOVE YOU!! Happy Anniversary.

Lady-Friend here.

I’m a little bit ticked right now. Not ticked that the world and government are going straight down the pooper. Or that it’s bitter cold in Cache Valley and it’s only November. Or that my li’l baby girl is sick AGAIN. Or that I happen to pick up the family plague. Or that there is never enough time during the day to get things done.

Nope, I’m ticked that I am so weak! WEAK I SAY!!!

I’ve been doing P90X for almost ninety days now and it’s been AWESOME! The program is sweet and totally kicks my booty. I love it. The best part is I am really seeing results IE– I have biceps and triceps. Who knew? Who also knew that your shoulder is more then one muscle and has strips of glory? It’s all true, fun to see, and I love that I am getting stronger to boot. I can do 20+ manly push-ups (three whole body shaking ones when I started) and four pull ups (I could barely hang on to the bar). For the first time in my life I can actually see muscles in my stomach instead of the uni-pack-and-roll (one big square with a roll at the end, my perfect little tire) I’ve had my whole life. We call it the Dunkley ponch (guess my sisters deal with the same dilemma).

Just when I think it might be possible to actually have the stomach of my dreams, I crumble. I am weak. I have a killer sweet tooth and it burdens me so! Halloween comes around and I think I can resist the ever so delicious candy corn, I fail! Not just a little fail, I’m pretty sure I ate at least 3 bags…how nasty is that. Then the left over loot, you don’t even want to know how many tootsie rolls I ate and I don’t even like them. And of course the trick or treating candy which the little man still asks where his big loot ended up. Oh sorry pal, its around my waist and in my cheeks. I feel quite glutinous pointing all this out, yuck!

I was hoping as I travel through these glutinous weeks of candy, cookie dough, brownies etc I could try to blame a troubling past or a deep repressed memory/void I am trying to fill. What makes me eat the third bag of candy corn, or 1/2 the batch of cookie dough, or devour my Little Man’s candy stash?

Truth is I got nothing! My childhood was awesome and I was super lucky my parents didn’t try to sell me on the black market. I have an amazing husband and two amazing kids. What more could I ask for?

Plain and simple I’m weak and I love love love sweets! Anyone else as weak as I am? Does anyone have a cure because I’m pretty sure it could make it on my “its a disorder” list? Spread the love, please!

If anyone out there could tell me some nasty stories on how rats bathe in the sugar that makes the candy, or how there are tiny hairs (curly, black, long, you name it) secretly baked in every sweet thing I love that would be great! Those kind of stories could really cure this girl of her sweet tooth!

Lady-Friend here.

I am a runner through and through. I love to run. I love the runners high. I love hitting the streets/mountain trails– just me and the pavement/dirt. I hope I never have to give it up and I don’t think any other activity could replace just how awesome I feel after a good long run.

That said, I’ve been Spinning a lot lately. I take this spin class in the most ghetto gym in Cache valley (hey- it’s cheap and I don’t go to check out the quality of the place, People). I needed something besides just running because a switch-up is healthy and much easier on my body. When I first started going, the class was quiet and everyone talked about when they would be hitting the streets together (who knew there is a whole network of bikers here in Logan). I wanted and needed some umph!! I started hootin’ and screamin’ and telling the ladies to pick it up and that we could do it– mostly to keep me going but the ladies started to enjoy it.Now I’m the designated cheerleader.

Back to the point…I really enjoy spinning and it kicks my booty but I have a very valid and real fear:

THUNDER THIGHS!

I’m so afraid that if I keep spinning as much as I am my legs are going to look like this chicks [Ed: Chun Li from the Street Fighter video game series... yes, I knew that. No, I'm not embarrassed] Geewww! Can anyone offer any comfort? Do I need to find a new alternative? Nobody likes the thunder thighs! If I become a spinner am I destined to have thunder thighs?

P.S. The instructor seriously said the “P” word today…the whole thing…shouldn’t that word be off limits? I can’t stand that word! Anyone feel the same or am I over reacting?

Lady-Friend here. I just got done watching the Oprah Karaoke show where she pulled random folks who have great voices and love to sing. She told viewers to send a video… and of course I didn’t. I am yet again filled with regret that I didn’t take the leap of faith and at least try. I love to sing, I always have but I’ve never felt good enough. I know there will always be someone (or plenty) better then I am but I just keep hoping and wishing that one day I will have my chance on stage to “sing it baby”.

Reality check: I don’t see that happening unless some record dude shows up at my church on the day I’ve been asked to sing. So I will continue to sing in the shower, behind closed doors, and occasionally at my church.

Give it up for dream crushing!! WOO WOO

Lady-Friend here. I can’t believe it! I took the plunge today and bought my first pair of skinny jeans…YIKES!!! I have to admit that for the longest time (and even now) they remind a little of when I used to “roll and pin” my jeans back in the day. Who knew they would be the “HOT” new style.

Okay, fine. I know they’ve been the hot new jean for a while now, but I’m a behind-the- times-kinda gal. For instance: when capris came out I told myself I wouldn’t be caught dead in those silly little 1/2 pants and now I have over six pairs. Or when long shorts came back in style, there was no way you find them in my closet…7 pairs later. I am the type of person that has to “warm” up to styles and then–maybe– I might adapt them into my clothes line up.

Now the problem is what on earth and how on earth do I wear them? I was thinking they would look super sexy with these hot boots but the man friend [ed. That's me! The killjoy!] just put the kibosh on them. He not only put the kibosh, but he also said they were atrocious…brutal! What do you think? Are they as ugly as he says?

I look forward to the responses…ha ha! I’ll be posting a pic of my hot new skinny pants…wahoo for pants without the peg and the sweet invention of spandex.

Dan was the lucky one and ended up being the coach.  He called all the kids and set up the first practice…these kids were going to beat the pants off all the other teams.   They practiced for about an hour,  Dan told them the plan and they were off, ready for the first big game.

My friend warned me that it was quite the fiasco, but boy was I in for a real treat!

HILARIOUS! All the kids were running everywhere.  We had everyone chasing the ball at once, picking noses (at least a few times during the game), throwing tantrums, crying in the middle of the field and tackling other teammates to get the ball. One kid just sat down (he was clearly done) and other kids ran across the field into the game next door (where was that dang base anyway?).   The poor parents were yelling from the sidelines.  You could tell the parents that had the same hopes and dreams for their kid as I did Joshua  because they were intense.  Do we forget they are four and it’s T-ball, People.

Needless to say the first practice was the only practice.  Will we sign the little man up next year?  You bet– it was hilarious! Who doesn’t love a good laugh.

Pics of the action below!

The day was super fun…boating with friends all day…BBQ with friends at night… illegal fireworks shaking our houses (until the neighbors sent their teenage son out to tell us to be quiet…come on! The 4th only happens once a year…geezers).  Apparently I was having so much fun I even forgot to take any pictures…whoops!

The picture thing clicked when I was getting the kiddos dressed up in red white and blue so here they are showing their American pride.

*About the sweet choke hold!  I had to snap a shot but no worries I quickly corrected the choking of baby sis.

I didn’t think much about being an American that day but I am now!  I am proud to be an American (you know you’re singing it now..how can you not).  I am beyond grateful that even though our government is quite the poop shoot, I was born and raised here and can raise my family here.  We are super spoiled in America and I’m thankful for it.

I’m sure your all thinking wow one big happy family shower but hey didn’t you get the memo going green is the new “big” thing.