~~I'm still working on the 2010 Book Challenge. I'm about finished with one of them on my list, and I just received a plastic grocery sack full of books from my mumsy. She loves me. :) I told her what she needed to do was to keep me updated on the books she's reading, and I'll keep track of them here for her; kind of like a mini-challenge between me and her (I think I'll win).
~~Picked out flower colors for my sister-in-law who is getting married in August. I'm helping plan the wedding...but I'm not the MOH (matron...I'm married). Nope, I'm first in, first out, last in line. Darker colors of dresses (which I got to pick mine up this afternoon. Yay), and the flowers are yellows and cream and red and white and peach. Surprisingly, they look good against the color swatches that I bought.
~~Monday, February 1 is D-Day. Not like December's D-Day, but the kind of D-Day that happens when you're 60 (no, that's not a typo. 60. Six-zero.) pounds overweight. I did well in high school dropping weight when I was running. Let's see if I can do it again.
I want to run at least one 5K this year. My friend Jessi and I (Mr. Realist said he'd go if he could wear all Cards gear...) are planning on running the Race to Wrigley in Chicago this year. I'm definitely not in it to win it. I'll settle for finishing on my own steam. That race is in April. We are definitely running the Beaverthon in September/October for our alma mater's Homecoming. Gonna try to win that one.
But there's also a Polar Plunge that I'm partnering into with my friend Jen. It's in Springfield, and it's to raise money for the Special Olympics. I've written about her before, but Jen's (and her hubby A) daughter Ainsley has Down syndrome. I'm going to start getting my shiz together and hitting people up for donations. I've got to have $75 in order for me to take the plunge. I'm going to freeze my ass off...wait, that might be good. I need to lose an ass (or seven)....
Doing a Couch to 5K thing means that I'm going to HAVE to blog every night I run. Let you know how I feel, what I listened to or what Mr. Realist and I talked about (if we can talk over the sounding like Big Bad Wolves). If I don't blog that night or the next day, call me out on it. PLEASE. I'm tired of being fat (and I'm tired of Mr. Realist being fat, but he's "perfectly happy". I'm not happy with either of us being the way we are, and I'm doing something about it).
Call me out on it. I dare you.
No, really. I dare you to call me out.
Please. Call me out if I don't.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Wanna be sexy again,