Remember that movie with Frankie Avalon and original Mouseketeer Annette Funicello? Beach Party? Frankie got to surf (and was known as) the Big Kahuna. Whether my memory is making a mess out of the 1963 flick or not, I seem to remember the surfers were always on the look out for a huge wave; certain that this wave would be the one to make them a local legend and get their girlfriends’ wandering eyes back to adoring only them. Not to mention make’m kings at the local beach bonfire where everyone wiggles their bikini bottoms.

The Rock Out With Your Socks Out Sock Hop + Art Auction is Jordan and I’s Big Kahuna. We are hoping this soiree will make fundraising legend within our own smaller sized blanket weave of the year We Raised $13 000 for The Arthritis Society.

It is no longer the Year We Will Run a Marathon or the Year We Eloped in a Foreign Country or The Year We Danced to Queen and The Doobie Brothers for Cheap Entertainment. Nope.  It won’t even be The Year We Took a Ferry Ride to Turkey, or The Year we Adopted a Forever-Friend. No, this will be the year We Raised $13 000. It’s a feat. And we’ve been slapping our boards on waves big and small, so far raising a couple of hundred dollars at a time bringing us to 43% of $13 000. (Which is pretty darn-tootin amazing when we look at where we started from -0%!).

But the glitch and there’s always at least one, is we need to raise 75% of our goal by July 1st so we can stay a bit longer overseas after the marathon and take that boat ride to Turkey and make that wedding ceremony on November 4th. If we raise the 75% we don’t get penalized for lengthening our plane ticket (for free!) to squeeze in an extra week or two after the race. That’s $4056 bucks we need to raise in just a few weeks. So this is the time for the miracle worker, the bikini bottom shaking extravaganza, or the Big Kahuna.

And we’re hoping that Rock Out With Your Socks Out will be just the bonfire we’re looking for. (We’re also having a bake sale and bottle drive this month too).

If you’re in Vancouver and want to come the sock hop + art auction, we’d love to have ya! (And if you would just like to donate to the cause, you can do so online here).

And oh gosh, ignoramus confession time: The term ‘Big Kahuna’ is sort of like Coca Cola saying you can open happiness. “Kahuna”  is actually a word meaning “priest, magician, minister, wizard, expert in any field”, (not a huge wave you can surf). Also according to wikipedia pro surfers such as Duke Kahanamoku, have resisted the word’s pop culture lure out of respect for its original meaning. Hmm.

So, in our next big wave of fundraising, Jordan and I are looking for our “humpback“. (According to Wiktionary under Glossary of Surfing this is a big wave that is more like two waves. It’s also called “double-up”. And we sure hope this fundraiser does exactly that. Cowabunga!

Big Wave Surfing

Draw by Night is forking over all the sketches and drawings, masterpieces and doodles made on May 12th to us!

Well, not exactly to us, but Jordan and I will be the safe-keepers of them until our next *big* Arthritis Society Fundraiser – Rock Out With Your Socks Out!

(This is my second ever photoshop attempt. I'm more proud than a mom, er, even if you can't read it, I guess the mom equation works well, then).

At this event we will divide all art sales between The Arthritis Society and Draw by Night. Win-win-win, because if you bid $5 or more you may get to take home an original from a Vancouver artist who will rock the white right off of that bare wall of yours.

Anyone can come and draw too! That party puts the pen to the paper on May 12th, 6pm -9pm at the VFS Cafe, 390 W Hastings.

And of course, anyone can come rock out at the sock hop too. Even with your shoes on! You can find ‘Rock Out With Your Socks Out’ dance & auction info here.

And one last thing about tomorrow night, DJ Noble -all the way from Norway- has created a specific ‘Meat Legs’ themed song list.  You won’t know what got into that pen you’re holding until you hear the music!

Owww!

(Can ‘Meat Legs’ howl?)

They sure as heck can!

I was thrilled Jordan and I could join Compassion for Animal’s worldwide project: The Worldwide Vegan Bake Sale as a part of our Arthritis Society fundraising.

Now, I’m not going to lie, ok, I’ll lie a little, I didn’t think I’d be able to bake anything that could even remotely be considered delicious without eggs or butter or Betty Crocker. And even if some talented vegan bakers could, I had a niggly vague sense I probably wouldn’t be able to. It’s that sort of underlying mundane terror that can crop up any time in life – ‘what if I can’t figure out how to put the bus ticket into the machine?!!’ Which, when roughly translated means: ‘everyone dies, but I’m still afraid to. Oh, god just let me put the damn ticket into the machine.’ So, when I put on my makeshift hairnet and rallied up some new ingredients, my wooden spoon was shaking. Yeah sure, I was afraid of death, but worse- I was afraid of death from embarrassment… what if I didn’t have the vegan baking gene? What if I sullied the name of the Worldwide Vegan Bakesale and of one of my favourite veggie places to eat in the whole wide city? What if my spoon served to confirm the stereotype carnivore’s everywhere say when vegan baking comes up, “that’s an oxymoron, right?” Or “disgusting, I’d rather eat sawdust sprinkled with brains.”

But I committed to this fundraiser, dang it, and Sejuiced called me back and said they’d love to support both causes and I could set up in front of their store. And here’s nothing but the truth: getting that call from Sejuiced was like someone telling me my first story was getting published, I was elated. I jumped up and down. This was real help from the community. And not to mention from a legit, healthy, feel-good place. I pushed the mundane terror back behind the eggs in the fridge, picked up the tofu instead and got to baking.

These chocolate chips are delicious! I'm still eating them!

We went to a new grocery store called Greens on the corner of West Broadway and Maple - they were super friendly and had the stuff we were looking for.

I used -with some minor adaptations- recipes from three Vegan Cookbooks: Vegan Cupcakes Take Over The World; The Garden of Vegan and Vegan Vittles. The pages now look like 18th Century treasure maps due to all the oil and flour and maple syrup I accidentally spilled on'em.

The baking started to pile up once I got the hang of it and ps, it's actually pretty easy to bake vegan.

Here’s some cover shots of the cookbooks that proved to not only be useful but late night friends too:

And speaking of friends, it felt like we were hanging out on Sesame Street setting up shop on West 4th avenue. People were so friendly! Our first customer of the day told us we made her day as she bit into one of my-first-time-ever-made-vegan-brownies and said “delicious”. I started breathing again. If it wouldn’t have been weird I would have hugged her for at least three seconds.

I got to thinking, if we could impress these healthy shiny people on West 4th, then maybe we could keep having some bakesales for The Arthritis Society. And heck, maybe even throw in some raw-food desserts sometime. We got to chat with one young woman who makes raw food desserts regularly. I told her I felt like Sly Stallone in Rocky 5 over the brownies, and that I would have no idea what superhero I would feel like over a successful raw food dessert bonanza… John McClane? Yippee-ki-yay…

We got to talk about the Arthritis Society, the upcoming marathon, and the Worldwide Vegan Bake Sale to moms, kids, dads, dogs, shoppers, runners, bikers, people on dates, people who work in the area and the fabulous people who work at Sejuiced. We raised $96.50 too!  That pulled us up an entire percentage point towards our goal of nabbing $13 000, we’re resting at 41% of that so far ($5300!)

Jordan and I's feet slapping the pavement as I huff and he hangs back a minute to run with me

Jordan and I are at an all-time personal best right now: regularly running 25 minutes, walking 1 minute, running 25 more at least 3x’s a week. Even uphill. Even in the windstorm. Happily in the rain. (Not as happily as when it’s gorgeous and summer outside and we can dog-stare to our heart’s content). (Sorry for the extra parenthesis but when I type “dog-stare”, I really mean it. Looking at dogs lifts our dragging, sweating hearts high- Jordan sometimes goes extra bold and reaches out for a quick pat as we run by, I usually say “look at that little guy, awww” Especially if the dog is big. If anyone is interested in running, do it just to see all the dogs out and about licking things and each other).

But back to the running. We’re doing it. Something consistent is happening and it’s not just arguing who needs to sell tickets and where for our next fundraiser.  We start off worried, discussing errands and what-ifs? What if only people from your office show up and it’s awkward and they hate us? What if those prizes don’t come through? What if people want their money back? What if we can’t actually raise this much money? But then something miraculous happens as we continue to run… we stop talking and the ‘what if’s’ fade into the greenery and bright pink flowers around us. Sometimes we even laugh at our anxiety-ridden scenarios, being so bold as to say, ‘yeah and that guy from Ben’s Folds Five may show up too!’ or ‘hell, Douglas Coupland may stop by, donate a huge green plastic army man and do a poetry session by reading his fantastic tweets!’ Or ‘Van Halen will come in here, bowl a perfect string and give us all the old spandex from one of their world tours, talk about prizes!’ By the end of the run we’re mellow, breathing again, noticing dogs and flowers. Saying hi to people. Secretly trying to high-five the joggers and pat the dogs. Laughing at our precarious job situations, student debts and follies.

And that’s a proud moment. A: “look ma,  no drugs!” moment- one where we can cut through our own tightly wound crap and get mellow on our own! And in our society’s frenzy-forward days, I think mellowing out is something to be proud of… especially for me. I’ve been told if I were a dog I’d be a bordie collie cooped up in a small closet meant for tax files. I’ve been chasing my own tail since I was three.

But it’s amazing what a run can do. It can be really freeing. See you later, closet!

We’re at the point now where running for running’s sake is within view: just off the horizon with some leisure boats and wind surfers.  It’s still a push to get us out the door but it’s becoming more automatic. Less of a negotiation, more of a commitment. I’m starting to trust it, the running, that it can happen on its own as well as with my feet.

So, here’s a few other things we’re noticing: 1) neither of us are losing any weight. Not yet anyway. We find this surprising but could also have to do with the decadent Indian meal we had for Jordan’s mom’s partner Rhoda’s birthday followed by a ship-wreck size of cheesecake. And having the odd twenty beer with friends. But seriously, if this was 10 years earlier, I’d be able to run on a steady diet of Mr. Big bars, tofu and mountain dew and have to buy a belt, so it’s interesting what we hold onto as we age. And how gross a Mr big bar with a side of green pop would be now, but gross in a fantastical way.

2) People are forgiving and kind. We dread the fundraisers and asking for money. Yes, we believe in the cause and yes, we want to change our own lives and are committed to doing so, but asking for money and throwing wacky fundraisers is scary. And then combine the two and it’s even scarier. So, we’re trying to make them fun, what-would-we-like-to-go-do-things, like a party in the living room or kitchen. And we bring as many cupcakes as we can. And everyone so far has been more gracious than we deserve. And we get excited about them too. Especially when they entail costumes.

3) We need to stretch for real. No kinda-stretching while watching the tail end of an episode of The Office we started last night. No, pretending to flex our feet while cooking dinner. We actually need to consciously stop what we’re doing and stretch for about 10 minutes after a warm up walk and then after the run. If we don’t, we’re 80. And we’re an 80 that made a life out of eating Mr. Big Bars, tofu and Mountain Dew in the tax closet with the border collie.

4) Cramps. I have a few that are recurring buddies which show up after about 20 minutes of running. Luckily so far, they rotate so I haven’t had the pleasure of getting them all at once. My new creaky friends: the ribber:  a cramp right under the top tip of my right rib; the blade: a cramp under my right shoulder blade; the bitch: a cramp right smack dab in the centre of my chest, off of my breast bone; and one that turned into five jabbing bolts of pain all around my belly after eating a peanutbutter sandwich too close to running, yuck. This one doesn’t get a name unless of course it’s ’stupid’.

The interesting thing is, I can usually run with the cramps and out run them. I have to accept them, which usually consists of me cursing and hollering out to Jordan up ahead that the “ribber” for instance is back. Then feeling sorry for myself and cursing some more. Then I slow down, try to relax and keep going. And to my amazement, this has worked. I’m only running max about 50 minutes so far, so it’s not like I’m in the 4 hour of continuous running marathon sector or anything where out-running a cramp might be crazy, but my little stints so far have given me such hope. I thought when you got a cramp it meant throwing in your towel and your short shorts too. But so far, it means patience and running/breathing through it.

Jordan doesn’t get cramps. But his right hip will tell him what’s what sometimes and this scares him. Not as much as throwing a fundraiser, but close.

5) That we like ourselves more after a run than before. I’m not sure if it’s all the oxygen or getting to see the ocean or people or dogs or all of that, but we feel more connected to something. To everything. And that makes us feel much better. (Even about the fundraisers).

We’ll post an update as soon as we push up a time slot/get further with fundraising! Thank you so much for reading!

First off: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU  to Zulu Records (making us legit by helping us sell tickets); Pacific Cinematheque, (the people working & volunteering there are gods and saints); Videomatica (giving us a way cool prize pack and a much needed high-five); Jordan’s mom’s (baking supplies trip or should I say mission?) and the friends who iced cupcakes late into a Friday night, with no bottom of the tub in sight.

Our house the night before the fundraiser, icing 144 cupcakes. Thank god my friends are artists, or the decoration would have consisted of a blob of icing on top.

a close up!!

the most important part to making cupcakes...(don't worry this was a staged event and no real icing dipping or licking took place).

The duds

We raised $968 in ticket/cupcakes/50/50 draw sales and $200 in donations!! That’s $1168!! Bumping us up to 32% of our total goal!  We threw in the price of the theatre and insurance and gave a little speech before the show.  We were so amazed to see people come out. That we even gave out prize packs consisting of a dinosaur, fake tattoos and a $5 gift certificate. (So, if you were wondering whether or not you’d wanna come to our next event -may the prize pack sway you over-  because we’ve got two more to hand out for next time!)

We were a little nervous first time around that we only got pictures of the cupcake table before people arrived and the film started. hahaha. So, there’s no pictures of the actual turn out or how good the movie looked up on the big screen. And let me talk about the film for a second, holy holy, how grateful we are to The White Stripes, B-side entertainment, Emmett Malloy for letting us do our own screening of the movie that turned my heart into a six-string guitar and made it weep and howl.  A few years back one of my best friends and I took a greyhound bus to try and follow the White Stripes around for a few shows. Afterwards we stood waiting beside any vehicle that looked like it could be for them just to catch a glimpse of the band that brought our souls back. I didn’t even feel foolish. I was old enough to be the mom of the kids waiting with us. (Well, a responsible teenage mom at least). I love that band and everyone who showed up on Saturday loves them too. Even Jordan’s mom left the theatre raving about the mystifying/electrifying twosome. So, heck yah!

Me really hoping people will show up

One of our two tables at Pacific Cinematheque

These swirly goodies raised us 70 bucks!

Yay white stripes loving, cupcake selling friends!

We’ll post soon about our next event on Monday, April 19th. Just know this: it’s gonna bust your case of the Monday’s wide open and pour some bowling balls’ worth of fun right in till Tuesday. 5-pin style.

Raising money for Arthritis Research doesn’t get more fun than this!  M2M co-star, Sarah Hyde, picks up the pink bandanna and gets down.

But wait-before I post the video here’s a pop-up insider-tidbit for ya: I put the call out to all the community dancers to meet at a specific time at a specific place. As the date drew closer I got worried: it seemed like no one could make it.

Did I have enough guts to dance alone?

The morning of the big meet-up, I put on my sweats and carried my flourescent posters to the beach. I got some songs cued on my ipod and tried to psyche myself up.

I waited. 45 minutes went by.

I vacillated between worry and wonder, marveling at all the dogs and do-gooders jogging by and worrying about the task at hand. The potential-solo dance routine.  I contemplated asking a group of drunk beach-goers if they’d be interested in dancing in a video with me (it was the first summery-sunny day of the year, I don’t blame them one ounce for being tipsy and loud by noon) but figured that wouldn’t look good for The Arthritis Society if someone barfed during the running man or worse, fell over. When I was about to conclude that maybe dancing for change wasn’t the best fundraising tactic,  bike wheels flashed by and stopped to my right. A familiar voice, said, “hey, I’m here”.  Radio personality, volunteer extraordinaire, playwrite and regular karokee’r Sarah Hyde came in from Merritt. She was in her sweats and ready to rock. She had to leave in exactly one hour to lead a youth camp. She didn’t ask where everyone else was. She just danced.

We didn’t raise any money that day (I think we could have danced naked and people would have been too interested in chilling out with the sun, it was such a nice day) but I got a gift worth more than uranium in New Brunswick, I got a friend’s kindness.

(And also to see a funny little pug named Mason run free as a bird down the beach, snort-chortling, his little paws like wings).

In the elusive pursuit of the marathon conquest, Jordan and I are somewhere between ‘is-that-a-glimmer-of-light-on-the-dark-dark-horizon-or-is-that-a-drop-of-sweat-on-my-eye-glasses?’ and ‘we’re-doing-this-and-it’s-going-to-be-awesome.’

Jordan is closer to the latter sentiment and I’m kinda checking out my sweaty glasses.

But as of today, we are now running 12 minutes at time/walk 1 minute/4xs in a row. This is huge. Although, it doesn’t quite measure 10km on a roadway, (and yup, we’re signed up to run 42km continuously),  it measures miles upon miles of progress in our 8 months of heaving our butts of our butt-enticing couch, putting our books down and getting outside. There were times when I thought I was going to have an asthma attack after running 2 minutes. And I’m only being half-dramatic. I literally would cough & cough and feel my throat turn into the size of a cocktail straw and who the heck can drink out of those things anyway? I remember asking Jordan tersely, “time?” every 5 seconds, not having the breath or gusto to say out loud a full polite sentence such as: “Jordan, could you please tell me the time we have left on the stopwatch, thanks, baby!”

Nope!  He’d get an angry or breathless or tired or tense one word command: “time?” I thought that by willing the 2.5 minutes to be over, it would be.

It really doesn’t work that way.

And I’m so grateful to find that out.

I really really hoped training for a marathon would increase my lung capacity and help me drop a few pounds from my huggable hips but I had no idea I’d be growing some patience, and heck, even compassion for my annoying non-running running self. I now try to challenge myself not to ask Jordan what time is left on the stopwatch anymore, unless of course we’re going up hill, then I ask every 2 seconds-  I mean, I’m not superhuman.

The fact that we’re running 12 minutes at a time feels like a great accomplishment. One I wouldn’t think was possible 8 months ago. So, maybe other things are possible too, like completing 5 hours of running, even if it’s 12 minutes at a time.

And of course with committing to run 42km, we’ve also committed to raise $13 000 for the Arthritis Society. And we’re at 23% of our goal right now! Thanks largely to friends, family members and workplace families. (I can’t say how many times I feel like Michael Scott as I learn to run and fundraise) haha.  But we definitely need help raising the last 10-grand.

And holy crap, $10 000 seems like a HUGE number, (did someone say recession?) but so did the number 12 (did someone say never-been-able-to-run-in-my-life?) when it came to running it in minutes. And the number 12 is not that bad, then maybe the number 10 000 ain’t either especially if you’ve got some fun events planned.

And we do!

Thanks to the White Stripes and B-side entertainment!

Our first *big* fundraiser is on March 27th (1:30pm) at Pacific Cinematheque theatre on 1131 Howe Street in Vancouver… a screening of the White Stripes Under The Great White Northern Lights documentary. Expect 100% rock n roll with a good chance of a of scissor kick or two.

We’ve even got a PG rating from Consumer Protection BC ready to post, some swirly candy and tickets!  You can get a ticket or three for 10 bucks a pop at Zulu Records on West 4th Ave.

The event is set to rock.

All we need is you.

Something is happening in my training to run a marathon this October. Something is shifting deep inside my chest and it’s not a funny bone. Not yet anyway.

When I first started running 4 months ago alongside Jordan, my partner in sneakers and sweats, I’d find myself angry, overreacting to small injustices -he was running ahead, he didn’t look to see if cars or bikes were coming at roundabouts, he would run longer than the time on the stop watch, he would, he would, he would, he would. I would fume over these small things asking him, “do you know how hard this is for me?”  while sometimes shaking with anger and sweat, beet red in the face, huffing my way up a tiny hill like it was Everest and I was going sans oxygen.  And that was for running only 2-4 minutes at time, with long walk breaks in between!

I’d chide him on not giving people room on the sidewalk when we ran by , I’d feel upset when he’d zig zag and make people go one way then the other and especially if they were carrying a coffee and it was early morning (”they could spill it on themselves! they’re barely awake!”). I was mad when he wouldn’t tell me which way he was turning before he’d turn or when he was going to run out into the street to let an unruly dog and his owner have the sidewalk in peace. Sometimes, I’d even be furious. And if I didn’t perceive these things as slights, well, then I would ruminate on other things. That potential job didn’t call, this person has never treated me well, this person expects the moon, what are we thinking no National Housing Strategy and why do we still have a government we don’t trust? All these orbiting angers and pains, all mixed in with the consistent belief that there was no way I could do this thing, -look at me- I couldn’t even last 2 minutes without becoming medusa.

What an unexpected experience to run right up against this ridgidity in myself, this perfectionist, this negative nag, this controlling-take-myself-so-seriously-I-almost-turn-to-stone, this ego that is more self-monitoring and cruel than a 13 year old who hates you.  I thought in order to have a plump ego you needed to think of yourself as awesome, not terrible, but turns out it works both ways, (why oh why didn’t I choose to think I was awesome all those years back??)

The good news is training for this marathon is making me not only run up against this wall of rigidity, but to run it down, to coax its iron gates just enough to see that maybe 10 minutes of running is possible, maybe 12, maybe 15…and maybe Jordan isn’t one big jerky wack for running ahead, crossing the street without me,  accidentally stepping on someone’s garden and zigzagging without apology.  Maybe I”m the jerky wack for noticing.

So what is that? What is that never ending source of criticism and barf? Well, the more I run, the closer I come to uncovering what it is. I suspect fear. But as I hold my tongue and judgements, something else is happening, I can feel my lungs getting stronger, growing bigger. It’s weird. The more my lungs expand the more my mind does too. That steeltrap of crap is starting to open up. And it’s not all bad in there. I’ve even caught myself laughing out loud thinking about a funny thing a friend did while running up a hill. Up a hill.

Startling, I know.

Even more startling is the fact that I have lived with these rigid, inflexible, iron steel beliefs, on the inside of my lungs and major organs for close to 20 years. All or nothing. You can’t do that. That’s not for you. That’s what other people do. You need to be good at something in order to do it. Who do you think you are. You’re not good enough. Only athletes do that. You look stupid. People think you look stupid. You are stupid. You will never make it. Be happy with what you’ve got. Don’t try for more. Do not try for more. Who do you think you are? You live in a fantasy world.

Yup, I sure do, but not a very nice one. Where are the care bears anyway?

Sheesh.

All those hits of anger at Jordan, all those moments of rage at “being left” or “being unable”, all of them feel like I’m knocking right into the wall. Sometimes head first  -blind spitting fury that it’s there- then peace. If I can keep putting one foot in front of the other, then I can keep softly taking a concrete block at a time from the wall. And maybe just maybe in Greece I can run through it. Or at least run through part of it.

And above all else:  give it a good care bear stare.

You can support our journey here.

February 4th, be a part of it!

It’s incredible how many people are coming together to raise money for Haiti. Events such as Radha’s Vegan Bake Sale with Musical Performance by Frazey Ford to Ben Harper auctioning off a White Fender Strat to local elementary, middle and high school kids throwing their energies together and pulling off well over $100 000 worth of hard earned funds for the cause.

CBC, CTV and Global’s 3-network -fundraising-bonanza raised 16 million dollars which will be government-matched and text donations have brought in over $120 000 and counting, with the average text worth 5 bucks.

Even more staggering than the outpouring of help and funds in such a short period of time is the shock of the Earthquake itself. Why Haiti? Why again?

What is incredible is the amount of people who are not letting their coats get snagged on the Why and are already out the door figuring out the How. Take Team Jericho for instance. Six young BC Sikhs are in Haiti helping to serve thousands of daily meals and are blogging about their experiences. These teams of relief workers are the second phase of what the Sikh community has done so far in the face of this sudden tragedy. The first thing was to raise $1.5 million dollars in a week. (And implement a successful toy and school supplies drive).

Another incredible thing is how on the micro-local level, from your neighbour to the person you see on the bus everyday, people are talking about Haiti- about how they can help – not just about how terrible the situation is. That’s a big shift to go from feeling stunned still to feeling like we can do something. Whether that is a bake or craft sale, donating blood or supplies, supporting relief workers, and sending cash to government-matching organizations like the Red Cross.

It’s an incredible time for this city, for better or worse, we are about to host the Olympics – an event that brings together the very ideals of  discipline, strength and unity. I’m so happy to be hearing as much about Haiti as I am about the games.

Vancouver has a lot of problems but two of them aren’t apathy or lack of heart.

Well it is here. The year 2010.

And I know for most Canadians this means the Olympics, the beginning of a new decade, and the uncanny fact that what we wore in the 90’s just may be better the second time around.

And for Jordan and I, 2010 means the year WE RUN A MARATHON.

I use capitals for good reason.

You’d think we’d be more likely to capitalize the words “we’re getting married” but that has become no big whoop in comparison to what is all-too-soon becoming a reality of taking our non-running selves and transforming them into people who can at least crawl over the 42 km finish line. And I use the word “crawl” very generously, because I’m sure I’ll be crying, barfing and begging to be carried as well.

Not to sound too grim, I am trying to be funny, but because we have now rolled into the year in which we will run a marathon, it has become more real. More real than The Situation getting slapped in the face on Jersey Shore.  And more real than the bills that poke their heads out of our mailbox once a month.

And like watching that show and paying for the internet, we’re doing this.

We are doing this thing.

This mara…

This marath…

THIS MARATHON.

And to start the New Year off with a kazam!  Here is our latest fundraising effort to meet our $13 000 pledge for Arthritis. We’re hoping to get dancing again on a beach really soon!

Thank you for watching and for supporting us on our journey… ohh!

Support Our Journey. mov