This one time months and months ago, I sort of almost dated a guy. One day we went on a trail run (as I tend to do with sort of almost datable guys?) and used the term "hard-core" about 70 times. Afterwards, I decided it was time to come up with a new and better term. And so "crispy" was born.

i.e. "That bike jump is sooo crispy, dude." or "Did you hear about that crispy man who ran a marathon in his garden shoes? Crispyyyy."

And now that we've discussed that little tidbit that has nothing to do with anything, let's talk about how I did a million crispy (and exhausting) things in September, starting with hiking the Aspen Grove side of Mt. Timpanogos on Labor Day.

Our group consisted of two tall white girls, one of my former Latin Lovers, a very persistent and shorter-than-me ward clerk, and my cute little photographer roommate.

Saray Kay and me. We work out.

Things which were cool: Amazing view, gorgeous hike, refreshing quiet time, the feeling of accomplishment.
Things which were not cool: My muscles after hiking the saddle, wearing uncomfortable skinny jeans, knocking my baby off a cliff.

Taking a picture of my bestie, at eye-level with the clouds.

Stay tuned for more documentation of crispy September adventures!
Crispy September: Timp

undies and sox texts: they're the best

Mother Says

Today I made a roasted tomato soup.

It was just slightly bland (next time I'll use stock instead of water), 
so I combined it with this butternut squash soup leftover from last week.

It. Was. Divine. 

I might recommend following the recipe for butternut squash soup, and just adding in roasted tomatoes and garlic. Perfect for those days when you are sick in bed with a nasty cold.
Which I hope you don't get, because it really is quite nasty.

Happy Fall!


Tips to running the best first marathon ever:
(as told by pictures which are already on Facebook--sorry)

--Carb load like it's nobody's bidness for the 4 days leading up to it. Bonus points if your pants stop fitting!
--Sleep like a bear 2 nights before; that's when it counts. Bonus point if you...make bear noises while you sleep?
--Sit by ultra-marathoners as you bus up. If they don't talk to you, it's not you. They're just worrying about beating their time of 2 1/2 hours and not quitting during the last half of the "horrific" 26.2 miles. And don't worry when it takes an hour to get to the starting line. You'll run fast.
--Lock the pre-race porta-potty door. But if you forget, when people walk in on you you'll get a panicked adrenaline rush and feel an especially deep connection with your co-runners. So it's fine.
--Run Top of Utah. Gorgeous, well-sponsored, downhill canyon perfection. Those aid stations just kept a-comin'.
--Bask in the energy at the starting line and all the way down. You're experiencing months and months of hard work paying off, and so are the 3000 runners surrounding you. Nothing needs to be said for everyone to feel the connection, but if you feel like making conversation, anyone you open your mouth to is an automatic friend . . .
-- . . . until mile 25 when you're neck-and-neck with the girl wearing all black and sporting Star Wars braids. You may have been friends 3 miles ago, but no more. Time to flip on your well-masked competitive edge.

--Eat a slice of fruit, drink a cup of Gatorade or water, and walk at every station. Your body will thank you when you hit your high as everyone else hits their wall.
--Train on hills and greet them as old friends. Old friends that you will destroy like a beast.
--Bring the best support crew, preferably one that will run alongside you when necessary and take stellar pictures so you don't have to pay 80 dollars for the official ones.

--Drink the chocolate milk at the end. TWICE. I don't even care if you have lactose intolerance because it's not lactose; it's champion nectar.
--Offer yourself little motivations: you get to take off your jacket when you see your family. You get to listen to music after that. You get to pee when the only other option is 'sploding.

--Run in front of hilariously loud pace-runners and behind cute guys. By the time you decide how you're casually going to start a conversation with them and which one will be the groom vs. best man at your wedding, 7 miles will have passed just like that and you'll find you've somehow left them in the dust. For the win. And also for the lose.
--Have juicy topics ready to contemplate in case you ever get tired of thinking "I'm doing whaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?????????" I personally never moved on from this thought.

--Don't forget the anti-chaff stick between the cheeks. It's an unspoken (til now) necessity.
--Have flip-flops ready at the finish line for when you want to turn into The Hulk and tear your shoes off your feet. Have someone to take them off for you when you realize your body will not bend forward at an
 angle greater than 20 degrees.
--Try to avoid safety-pinning your number (2592!) to your underwear when you're just going for the spandex. That'll make for a frustratingly hilarious porta-potty experience en-route.
--Most importantly: Have a blast!! Remember how long you've trained for this and how awesome it is. Smile at all the spectators and their clever signs. Stay fueled and enjoy the route. This is a fantastic accomplishment.

Official Time:      4:29:13
For the Marathon Rookie: 9/15/12

"And what did you learn from the reading, Garrett?" The teacher asked with an air of expectation.

"Um . . . I did the reading and it was really great, but I honestly can't remember learning anything new."

"Ok, that's fine! Are you going to maybe try packing your used toilet-paper out from the trip next week?"

"No; it happens to fall on a day when I don't poop."

"Ah, good planning."

And on that note, I present to you a favorite immature YouTube video.
(do not watch if you are eating something with food in it)
Please comment with yours as well. I'm always on the hunt.

Backpacking Class

Repel down waterfalls.

Go on virtual bike-rides through the canyon.


Overcome saddle-soreness.

Pee in the wilderness.

Learn Boy Scout knots.

Dangle off of campus bridges.

Invest in biker-shorts.

Tear up my legs.

Get class-time adrenaline rushes four days a week.

Eat acorns.
Things which I get 4 1/2 college credits to do.

I went Paleo.
I will expound on this in a later post, because I LOVE it.

This week, however, is marathon week. 
This means major-time carb-loading so I can run 26 miles on Saturday.
Which is the anti-Paleo diet, but kind of fun nonetheless.

I feel like I should tell you that I ate a whole tray of Paleo raspberry breakfast bars today.
And then for dinner I made and devoured a butternut chickpea salad.

And after that I made Pumpkin Chili and stood over it while I waited for it to "cool."
And taste-tested a good fourth of it with a wooden spoon directly from the pot.
 Sometimes I wonder why I wonder why I have no time...
Just think about that.
So says my Pinterest

It happened.

Today I looked in the mirror and accepted that when I became an upperclassman, I lost my youth.

No longer am I content putting off my homework with blogging and Facebook stalking. Now I put off all else to cook, clean, and otherwise organize my life. 

Not ok.

I'm the mom that uses vegetables and fruits instead of flour and sugar in the brownies.
(I know, you hate that mom.)

I'm the mom that keeps Clorox wipes on the counter to keep the bathroom sanitary (wait, what?).

I'm the mom that buys spandex jogging shorts and wears them as she unloads the dishwasher. 

I'm the mom that's not even a mom and is stressing out that this post is
a. taking longer than seven minutes to write, 
b. thus far lacking in pictures, and
c. keeping me from labeling my drawers. 

So on that note, my pending anxiety attack is dictating that I must neglect thee once more and leave thee with, once again, an unrelated picture.

First off, I hiked Timp.
Second off, I stole this picture without asking. Sorry, Sarah. Your card was sitting irresistibly on the desk.
Third off, my glutes hurt real bad.
Fourth off, 17 miles is a yummy amount of miles.
Fifth off, I don't know what that means.
I'm a Mom


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