<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;D0IEQ34_fyp7ImA9WhRWEk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094</id><updated>2011-12-29T19:38:22.047-05:00</updated><category term="Excuses" /><category term="My life" /><category term="1/2 Marathon" /><category term="Our life" /><category term="Photography" /><category term="1/4 Marathon" /><category term="Running" /><category term="His life" /><category term="Chino" /><category term="Europe" /><category term="Project 365" /><title>My life, his life, our life and a dog named Chino</title><subtitle type="html">Our lives can be a three ring circus, but we wouldn't have it any other way.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>292</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino" /><feedburner:info uri="mylifehislifeourlifeandadognamedchino" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcFRHw4fyp7ImA9WhdVEEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-7869559846042483901</id><published>2011-09-15T08:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-15T08:00:15.237-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-15T08:00:15.237-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Our life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Chino" /><title>Chased by a turd</title><content type="html">A typical evening walk with Nick, Chino and I was ruined by the perfect storm of distractions and a stuck turd.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Setting: &lt;/b&gt;Suburbia, USA, around dusk. Manicured lawns, sidewalks, children playing, yard work in process.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nick and I are walking along, having an in-depth discussion about any number of seemingly insignificant situations, when suddenly, Chino decides that he has to poop. As usual, I'm holding the leash and Nick is holding the poop bags (because we are responsible dog owners) and like a well rehearsed scene from a play, we assume our positions while Chino assumes his.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As he's mid-dump, we see kids coming down the street. Since Chino doesn't always understand the concept of anyone under 5'0" tall, we knew that we'd have to shorten his leash a bit, to avoid an awkward situation wherein Chino jumps on and scares a neighborhood child. Instinctively, I wrap his leash around my hand, for added leverage, all the while hoping that he'll just focus on the task at hand and ignore the bicycle riding children.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At the point that we are passed by the child, Nick has the leash and I'm reaching for the treats to try to &lt;s&gt;use bribery to elicit good behavior &lt;/s&gt;distract him (Chino, not Nick) Chino lunges to jump on the kid (bad dog) and at the exact same moment realizes that he's got a &lt;i&gt;hanger&lt;/i&gt;, if you will. So, mid-leap, he's pulled back by Nick's cat-like reflexes and then twists around to see what in the hell is hanging out of his ass. He realizes its a turd and begins proceedings to remove the offending turd from his ass and deposit it in the grass, where it belongs. As this is happening, he backs himself into me, while Nick joins the chase and tries to pluck the turd from his ass, bag on hand, of course.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Somehow, some way, Nick is able to detach the turd and I escape the whole ordeal unharmed. I did however start a laughing fit, the deep breath, tears streaming down my face, sounds like I'm crying, laughing fit. I hope that the picture I just painted for you will be the kindling for your own.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Moral of the story: &amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;Don't eat hair&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-7869559846042483901?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/5IP2Hk1VYR4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/7869559846042483901/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=7869559846042483901" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/7869559846042483901?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/7869559846042483901?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/5IP2Hk1VYR4/chased-by-turd.html" title="Chased by a turd" /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/09/chased-by-turd.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0cNRXk8fip7ImA9WhdVEEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-3439649564254127171</id><published>2011-09-14T12:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T12:51:34.776-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-14T12:51:34.776-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Photography" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My life" /><title>Sunflower</title><content type="html">Since I wasn't able to post a photo for day 13 of the #30dayphoto challenge on &lt;a href="http://blog.allisonlehman.com/"&gt;Allie's blog, Show + Tell&lt;/a&gt;, I thought I'd post it here. &amp;nbsp;For me, the &lt;i&gt;lack&lt;/i&gt; of color makes me think of the brightest sunflower up against the bluest sky. Maybe its because I always try to assume the best?&amp;nbsp;What do you think?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G5Qbm8BeDd4/TnDbAthOLFI/AAAAAAAABAo/48Q1BdXlLkI/s1600/Sunflower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G5Qbm8BeDd4/TnDbAthOLFI/AAAAAAAABAo/48Q1BdXlLkI/s400/Sunflower.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-3439649564254127171?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/i1HwC4r9OGI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/3439649564254127171/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=3439649564254127171" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/3439649564254127171?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/3439649564254127171?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/i1HwC4r9OGI/sunflower.html" title="Sunflower" /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G5Qbm8BeDd4/TnDbAthOLFI/AAAAAAAABAo/48Q1BdXlLkI/s72-c/Sunflower.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/09/sunflower.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cARn0-fyp7ImA9WhdWFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-9176785105898775839</id><published>2011-09-08T16:48:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T16:50:47.357-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-08T16:50:47.357-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Photography" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Chino" /><title>Happiness...</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CcnzV_tTLbY/Tmkp3xvAtoI/AAAAAAAABAk/aYj29W9UjWc/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CcnzV_tTLbY/Tmkp3xvAtoI/AAAAAAAABAk/aYj29W9UjWc/s320/photo.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...can be as simple ripping into a ball of tissue paper.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-9176785105898775839?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/E0zzeSpMHeE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/9176785105898775839/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=9176785105898775839" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/9176785105898775839?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/9176785105898775839?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/E0zzeSpMHeE/happiness.html" title="Happiness..." /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CcnzV_tTLbY/Tmkp3xvAtoI/AAAAAAAABAk/aYj29W9UjWc/s72-c/photo.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/09/happiness.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEMGRng8fCp7ImA9WhdWFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-7989363146356376977</id><published>2011-09-07T09:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-07T09:33:47.674-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-07T09:33:47.674-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Photography" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My life" /><title>#30dayphoto</title><content type="html">When I found out that my (twitter) friend, Allie was going to host a 30 Day photo challenge over at her &lt;a href="http://blog.allisonlehman.com/"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt;, I was thrilled! Allie is graphic designer and all around creative girl, which is reflected in her blog posts and photographs, so I knew that this challenge would push me a bit to become a better photographer AND a better editor (still using Picknik, need to learn Photoshop Elements). In addition to her creativity, which I expected, I've been blown away by all of the other submissions, each one with its own twist on the daily assignment. &amp;nbsp;My goal is to post a photo every day, even if its just editing a photo that I've taken previously and to see an evolution in my shots and in my editing techniques.&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lIPqM_9_geo/TmdqlocXObI/AAAAAAAABAU/dQd1UXGYgxM/s1600/Me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lIPqM_9_geo/TmdqlocXObI/AAAAAAAABAU/dQd1UXGYgxM/s320/Me.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 1: &amp;nbsp;Me (Link to the others &lt;a href="http://blog.allisonlehman.com/2011/09/30dayphoto-day-1/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PeW0IH9Fy2I/TmdqlyF_QcI/AAAAAAAABAc/KDZVFvlsXqE/s1600/What+I+wore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PeW0IH9Fy2I/TmdqlyF_QcI/AAAAAAAABAc/KDZVFvlsXqE/s320/What+I+wore.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 2: &amp;nbsp;What I wore (Link to the others &lt;a href="http://blog.allisonlehman.com/2011/09/30dayphoto-day-2/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QY_slZA6dkY/Tmdqk39JjNI/AAAAAAAABAI/r0WyMT1rHLY/s1600/Favorite+Place.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QY_slZA6dkY/Tmdqk39JjNI/AAAAAAAABAI/r0WyMT1rHLY/s320/Favorite+Place.jpg" width="227" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 3: Favorite Place (Link to the others &lt;a href="http://blog.allisonlehman.com/2011/09/30dayphoto-day-3/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ASpXT1MG7BA/TmdqlP_R3kI/AAAAAAAABAM/CCaUlRY8sZ0/s1600/High+angle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ASpXT1MG7BA/TmdqlP_R3kI/AAAAAAAABAM/CCaUlRY8sZ0/s320/High+angle.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 4: &amp;nbsp;From a high angle (Link to the others &lt;a href="http://blog.allisonlehman.com/2011/09/30dayphoto-day-4/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-L7yjCPvM6mE/TmdqmAE0jJI/AAAAAAAABAg/3iFx1_4B6-M/s1600/whatever+I+want.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-L7yjCPvM6mE/TmdqmAE0jJI/AAAAAAAABAg/3iFx1_4B6-M/s320/whatever+I+want.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 5: &amp;nbsp;Whatever I want (Link to the others &lt;a href="http://blog.allisonlehman.com/2011/09/30dayphoto-day-5/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-39tQ7X1-9E0/Tmdqlb2-QqI/AAAAAAAABAQ/T3GO7k3gc7c/s1600/Low+angle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-39tQ7X1-9E0/Tmdqlb2-QqI/AAAAAAAABAQ/T3GO7k3gc7c/s320/Low+angle.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 6: &amp;nbsp;From a low angle (Link to the others&lt;a href="http://blog.allisonlehman.com/2011/09/30dayphoto-day-6/"&gt; here)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EH9QODHtlAU/TmdqligO7II/AAAAAAAABAY/r9zX9KhJgLE/s1600/silouhette.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EH9QODHtlAU/TmdqligO7II/AAAAAAAABAY/r9zX9KhJgLE/s320/silouhette.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 7: &amp;nbsp;Silhouette (Link to the others &lt;a href="http://blog.allisonlehman.com/2011/09/30dayphoto-day-7/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Want to participate? You can jump in and out of the challenge at any time. Here's a &lt;a href="http://blog.allisonlehman.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/Photochallenge2.jpeg"&gt;list of the assignments&lt;/a&gt;. The rules are minimal (no nudity, and submit by 9am, the morning of...). After you submit, she compiles and posts the collection, providing a link so that you can check out all of the other photographers' work. Its truly been a fun week and I'm looking forward (and ahead) to the other assignments!&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-7989363146356376977?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/k0LvICcwWmU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/7989363146356376977/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=7989363146356376977" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/7989363146356376977?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/7989363146356376977?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/k0LvICcwWmU/30dayphoto.html" title="#30dayphoto" /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lIPqM_9_geo/TmdqlocXObI/AAAAAAAABAU/dQd1UXGYgxM/s72-c/Me.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/09/30dayphoto.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU8AQXw6fSp7ImA9WhdWE08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-3285221164765049183</id><published>2011-09-06T11:41:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T11:44:00.215-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-06T11:44:00.215-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Our life" /><title>Sunday</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NX8UWT8A4BQ/TmY_hXZUe7I/AAAAAAAABAA/CzyzLsqJDkQ/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NX8UWT8A4BQ/TmY_hXZUe7I/AAAAAAAABAA/CzyzLsqJDkQ/s320/photo.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-99wz51K1TSM/TmY_iS6dEKI/AAAAAAAABAE/3sg45PR-utA/s1600/photo2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-99wz51K1TSM/TmY_iS6dEKI/AAAAAAAABAE/3sg45PR-utA/s320/photo2.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Instead of going out, we spent Sunday night in the garage, drinking beer, swinging in hammock chairs and watching the rain. It was exactly what we needed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-3285221164765049183?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/gkZB-4iH9pU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/3285221164765049183/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=3285221164765049183" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/3285221164765049183?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/3285221164765049183?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/gkZB-4iH9pU/sunday.html" title="Sunday" /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NX8UWT8A4BQ/TmY_hXZUe7I/AAAAAAAABAA/CzyzLsqJDkQ/s72-c/photo.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/09/sunday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04ER3cyfCp7ImA9WhdWE08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-7685392653732743186</id><published>2011-09-05T11:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T11:11:46.994-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-06T11:11:46.994-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Our life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="1/4 Marathon" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Running" /><title>Together</title><content type="html">While I was running the Emerald City 1/4 marathon on Saturday morning, I had the greatest idea for a blog post. It started out with a compelling sentence that would inevitably draw you, the reader, in for more. Unfortunately it seems that I forgot what I was going to say, but I didn't forget what this would be about, so bear with me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First, the ever-important background information. &amp;nbsp;Back in May/June, we signed up for the Emerald City 1/4 marathon (6.55 miles) so that we'd have a reason/incentive to run this summer and keep up our cardio workouts. The training was going well until the 90+ degree heat hit in August. Each week, we said that we'd get back on the wagon, but didn't. At least, we both kept up regular appointments with our trainers, so all was not lost. However, neither one of us ran more than 3 miles in the weeks leading up to the run, so we knew that if we did it, it wouldn't be pretty.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fast forward to race day. The night before, crazy thunderstorms and a crazy mutt interrupted our good night's sleep. When the alarm went off around 5:15am, we both groaned and then hoped for a torrential downpour that we could use as an excuse to skip the entire event. No such luck, so we put our gear on and trudged out the door. We arrived at the race, just as it began to rain. Both of us were cranky and now we were damp. As we waited under a tent, the race officials announced that the storm cell was passing around us and that the race would go on as scheduled. What surprised me was that instead of being bummed that the race wasn't cancelled, I was relieved. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As Nick and I walked over and joined our pace groups, the rain actually stopped. Since I planned to finish in around 1:30, he planned to finish around 1:10, so we wouldn't be running the race together. I kissed him goodbye and said I'd see him at the finish, then went and joined the crowd.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The race began and my body felt good. I was jogging slow, trying to pace myself. As I continued, I noticed that my breathing was regular, and my legs felt strong. I kept my pace until around mile 2, when I began to run/walk. Around mile 4, I began to notice my lack of training. My legs felt heavy and my knee was feeling sore, but I continued walking a song, running a song...until I reached mile 6. At mile 6, I knew that it was time to finish. I turned up my power song and told myself that there would be no walking until I reached the end. I rounded the corner and started RUNNING. I saw Nick, cheering me on as I ran as hard as I could.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I looked up, I realized that I beat my goal by 2 minutes, finishing in UNDER 1:30. I was proud that I didn't give in, proud that I finished and proud that I even began in the first place. However, that wasn't the best part. The best part was that Nick and I had completed the race &lt;i&gt;together&lt;/i&gt;. Although we didn't&amp;nbsp;run side by side, we were together in our decision NOT to skip the race. We both tested the water, but held strong and kept going. The day before and the hours leading up to the start were tough, but once we arrived, we knew that there would be no looking back. Had I said the word, Nick would gladly have gone back to bed and skipped the whole thing. Had he said the word, given me permission, if you will, to skip the race, I would have done it in a heartbeat. But, neither of us did. We went through with it, suffered our punishment from lack of training and did it together.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U2WV4zSL8Pc/TmY2xoG8fpI/AAAAAAAAA_8/X8jX2IomOt0/s1600/IMG_1502.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U2WV4zSL8Pc/TmY2xoG8fpI/AAAAAAAAA_8/X8jX2IomOt0/s320/IMG_1502.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-7685392653732743186?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/tHREkwkd-6Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/7685392653732743186/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=7685392653732743186" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/7685392653732743186?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/7685392653732743186?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/tHREkwkd-6Q/together.html" title="Together" /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U2WV4zSL8Pc/TmY2xoG8fpI/AAAAAAAAA_8/X8jX2IomOt0/s72-c/IMG_1502.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/09/together.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0MDSH45fip7ImA9WhdQFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-4747540861833563769</id><published>2011-08-16T12:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-16T12:17:59.026-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-16T12:17:59.026-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My life" /><title>Amazed</title><content type="html">Sometimes I'm truly amazed at the power of social media. &amp;nbsp;I was thinking the other day about twitter. &amp;nbsp;Somehow, signing up to "see what it was all about", turned into tweets with 140 characters, which turned into tweeting with other people in Columbus. Then those exchanges turned into meeting at professional events and instant ice breakers. Those meetings turned into Facebook &amp;amp; Foursquare friendships and exchanging cell phone numbers, which turned into text messages, which turned into happy hours, which turned into nights out. Somehow all of that turned into the realization that we have so much in common, which turned into meet-ups and gab sessions over coffee instead of beer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Somehow, 140 characters turned into friendships, stories and inside jokes. It turned into a group of friends that I can't believe that I made and that I can't remember being without.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-4747540861833563769?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/qWGIkGHS6sk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/4747540861833563769/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=4747540861833563769" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/4747540861833563769?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/4747540861833563769?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/qWGIkGHS6sk/amazed.html" title="Amazed" /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/08/amazed.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cMSH4-eip7ImA9WhdSEko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-1212381329323058578</id><published>2011-07-21T15:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T15:04:49.052-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-21T15:04:49.052-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My life" /><title>Woah, ugly.</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aSNYHEWq3Eg/Tih2lJM8JtI/AAAAAAAAA_4/kT7wcshJFpI/s1600/IMG_1349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aSNYHEWq3Eg/Tih2lJM8JtI/AAAAAAAAA_4/kT7wcshJFpI/s400/IMG_1349.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This, my friends, is a Ford Fairmont, the car I sometimes drove and eventually abandoned at the tender age of 16. Its also the car that would stall on random hills and that had plaid/vinyl interior and fuzzy orange carpet. &amp;nbsp;The one that we had was a color called "shammy metallic", otherwise known as sparkly orange-ish, and the source of a lot of eye rolls and laughs from friends. Ford must have been ahead of his time, because I've seen a similar color lately on some of their newer models. I must have been over the childhood trauma of driving a vehicle called, The Pumpkin Mobile, because I've found myself seriously considering the orange for my next vehicle, but I'm not sure if I'm ready to hear the grief I'll get from my dad, after all of the grief I gave him about driving this monstrosity back in the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-1212381329323058578?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/IezSTJtvYss" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/1212381329323058578/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=1212381329323058578" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/1212381329323058578?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/1212381329323058578?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/IezSTJtvYss/woah-ugly.html" title="Woah, ugly." /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aSNYHEWq3Eg/Tih2lJM8JtI/AAAAAAAAA_4/kT7wcshJFpI/s72-c/IMG_1349.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/07/woah-ugly.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0AFR3kyeSp7ImA9WhdSEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-2934821673702071981</id><published>2011-07-19T14:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-19T14:21:56.791-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-19T14:21:56.791-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Photography" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Chino" /><title>One of my favorites of my favorite</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dJ2Wh0pX94w/TiXLEgACf_I/AAAAAAAAA_0/GLK0fbmbteo/s1600/IMG_1342.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dJ2Wh0pX94w/TiXLEgACf_I/AAAAAAAAA_0/GLK0fbmbteo/s400/IMG_1342.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Captured with an old school flip phone. Without *gasp* internet access. &amp;nbsp;How DID we survive?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-2934821673702071981?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/HQgKIAXdVNo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/2934821673702071981/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=2934821673702071981" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/2934821673702071981?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/2934821673702071981?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/HQgKIAXdVNo/one-of-my-favorites-of-my-favorite.html" title="One of my favorites of my favorite" /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dJ2Wh0pX94w/TiXLEgACf_I/AAAAAAAAA_0/GLK0fbmbteo/s72-c/IMG_1342.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/07/one-of-my-favorites-of-my-favorite.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0cAQ3s5eyp7ImA9WhdSEE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-7595101600389769551</id><published>2011-07-18T16:29:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-18T16:30:42.523-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-18T16:30:42.523-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Photography" /><title>Unfortunately, I didn't find a leprechaun</title><content type="html">&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rNhSL6-6jG8/TiSXAliIATI/AAAAAAAAA_o/J4y5dlVOOUM/s1600/IMG_1246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rNhSL6-6jG8/TiSXAliIATI/AAAAAAAAA_o/J4y5dlVOOUM/s400/IMG_1246.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I can't remember if/when I've ever seen a more perfect rainbow. Call me cheesy, but I feel like there was a divine artist at work here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-7595101600389769551?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/FnsUwZwkl7k" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/7595101600389769551/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=7595101600389769551" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/7595101600389769551?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/7595101600389769551?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/FnsUwZwkl7k/unfortunately-i-didnt-find-leprechaun.html" title="Unfortunately, I didn't find a leprechaun" /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rNhSL6-6jG8/TiSXAliIATI/AAAAAAAAA_o/J4y5dlVOOUM/s72-c/IMG_1246.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/07/unfortunately-i-didnt-find-leprechaun.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUNSXk-fSp7ImA9WhZaEk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-3863378376245774615</id><published>2011-06-27T15:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-27T15:51:38.755-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-27T15:51:38.755-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="1/4 Marathon" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Running" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My life" /><title>5 miles.  Done and done.</title><content type="html">Saturday's run was a long one, the longest that I've had to do in awhile. &amp;nbsp;As usual, I didn't WANT to do it, but I did, but I didn't, but I did (or else I wouldn't have signed up for the 1/4 marathon in the first place). &amp;nbsp;I carefully planned how the day would go, in the back of my mind, giving myself permission to skip it, but also threatening to kick my own ass if I did. &amp;nbsp;My relationship with myself is complicated. &amp;nbsp;In the end, I got it done and here's why:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;I gave myself permission to walk.&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;Did I want to walk? &amp;nbsp;No. &amp;nbsp;But did I decide that it was ok if I did? Yes. &amp;nbsp;And I did end up walking on/off for the last 1 1/2 miles or so. &amp;nbsp;I'm happy to report that the side stitch stayed away and that I just started to tire out and dehydrate a bit. &amp;nbsp;All in all, I'm happy with how it went though. &amp;nbsp;I ran for almost 3 1/2 miles, not fast, but not walking.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;My husband told me to enjoy it.&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;What a revelation. &amp;nbsp;This builds upon the whole idea of "this was my big idea" and takes it to another level. &amp;nbsp;Go out there and have fun. &amp;nbsp;That's what I did. &amp;nbsp;I enjoyed my neighborhood, the sunshine and the little boy who so graciously moved his tricycle off of the sidewalk for me to pass by.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;I said that I was going to run. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;I cancelled a pre-concert lunch date with friends so that I had time to get 5 miles in. &amp;nbsp;How dumb would I have felt if I would have gotten to the concert and said "I didn't do it" when asked how my five miles was? &amp;nbsp;Pretty dumb. &amp;nbsp;So instead of humiliation, I got a couple of high fives.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sunday was a rest day.&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;All that was standing between me and more than 24 hours without thinking about running was 5 little miles. &amp;nbsp;Those five little miles would give my metabolism the boost that it needed to let me have fun at a tailgate, without completely throwing my progress down the drain.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;13. &lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;Why is this important? &amp;nbsp;Its the number of miles that I was supposed to finish last week, and that 5 miles was the last chunk of mileage. &amp;nbsp;It also let me have my first continual highlighted line across my training plan, with no X's to mark out missed miles.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-3863378376245774615?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/87H6gWJOKa8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/3863378376245774615/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=3863378376245774615" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/3863378376245774615?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/3863378376245774615?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/87H6gWJOKa8/5-miles-done-and-done.html" title="5 miles.  Done and done." /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/06/5-miles-done-and-done.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcGRH0yeip7ImA9WhZaEk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-7245401480661907677</id><published>2011-06-24T08:46:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-27T15:30:25.392-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-27T15:30:25.392-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Our life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="1/4 Marathon" /><title>3 miles of therapy</title><content type="html">Thursday's scheduled run turned into a walk, which turned into a 3-4 mile therapy session. &amp;nbsp;Over the years (does that make us sound old?), we have found that walking does the trick when it comes to difficult decisions or sticky situations. &amp;nbsp;We've broken up and gotten back together on a walk (that one was a doozie), we decided that we'd get a puppy and we've decided that we wanted to buy, and then build a house. &amp;nbsp;Obviously, these are pretty big decisions, but we've also worked on some other issues and "kinks", if you will. &amp;nbsp;For some reason, we're so much better at figuring things out while we walk and Thursday was no different.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We started out in our neighborhood, mutt in tow. &amp;nbsp;The conversation flowed and before we knew it, we were almost at the end of our normal route. &amp;nbsp;Since we weren't done talking yet, we crossed the street and added more miles and time, which did the trick. &amp;nbsp;The combination of walking and talking felt more exhausting than if we had just run the scheduled run, but in such a liberating way. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The details of what we talked about really aren't important (well, to anyone else but us). &amp;nbsp;What's important is that we know what to do when the going gets tough; we get going, talk it out and don't come home until its done, decided or resolved.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-7245401480661907677?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/yVbWW2TEBI0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/7245401480661907677/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=7245401480661907677" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/7245401480661907677?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/7245401480661907677?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/yVbWW2TEBI0/3-miles-of-therapy.html" title="3 miles of therapy" /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/06/3-miles-of-therapy.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MER3szfSp7ImA9WhZbGEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-240812042731447571</id><published>2011-06-23T14:55:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T14:56:46.585-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-23T14:56:46.585-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="1/4 Marathon" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Running" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My life" /><title>3 miles, heavy legs</title><content type="html">On Tuesday, I completed three miles. &amp;nbsp;I didn't run the whole thing, but I didn't walk the whole thing either, so I'll consider it a win or a +, if you will. &amp;nbsp;Monday evening, I did two miles, followed by a complete ass kicking by my trainer, &lt;a href="http://strongbodybyrebecca.com/blog/"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/a&gt;. &amp;nbsp;The workout was so intense that about halfway through, I started to dread Tuesday, thinking that I probably wouldn't be able to sit down on the toilet without extreme pain. &amp;nbsp;When Tuesday morning rolled around, I was kind of proud of myself when I got out of bed, made my way to the bathroom and then sat down, without any grunting or pain. &amp;nbsp;The day continued and my legs continued to work...until I had to go run that night. &amp;nbsp;Once I started going, it felt like my legs were weighted down. &amp;nbsp;It just wasn't happening. &amp;nbsp;But, I went anyway and at the end, I had "wogged" three more miles. &amp;nbsp;While I was going, I was thinking about:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;I hope that I don't get struck by lightening.&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;There were some pretty gnarly clouds rolling in and a few times, I saw sideways lightening. &amp;nbsp;I thought to myself - "seriously!? you're not this hard core" but then I told myself to "shut up and finish".&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;Even though you're not feeling "it" tonight, just get through it.&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;That's what I did. &amp;nbsp;It wasn't pretty, but it was done. &amp;nbsp;My heart rate was up and I was sweating, so even though I didn't satisfy my mind and do three miles without walking, I gave my body what it needed.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;In the overall scheme of your day, this is a blip. &lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;I had to tell myself multiple times that this "wog" only felt like it was going on FOREVER, when in fact it was less than 45 minutes of my day, a blip on the radar, if you will.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div&gt;Moral of the story: &amp;nbsp;For me, any run is better than no run. &amp;nbsp;I'll get to where I want to go eventually - even if I have to walk part of the way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-240812042731447571?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/GwiyaKRdO4o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/240812042731447571/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=240812042731447571" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/240812042731447571?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/240812042731447571?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/GwiyaKRdO4o/3-miles-heavy-legs.html" title="3 miles, heavy legs" /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/06/3-miles-heavy-legs.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcHQnY7fSp7ImA9WhZbFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-8874054281670694914</id><published>2011-06-21T09:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-21T09:30:33.805-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-21T09:30:33.805-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="1/4 Marathon" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Running" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My life" /><title>2 Miles</title><content type="html">Dear side stitch,&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm dedicating this post to you, since you obviously are craving attention. &amp;nbsp;During last night's run, I was thinking about how good I was feeling despite the humidity and my lack of motivation. &amp;nbsp;I know that's a contradiction, but its my prerogative. &amp;nbsp;My breathing was steady, my music was motivating and traffic was cooperating. &amp;nbsp;I was cruising along at a less than 13'00" pace yet again. &amp;nbsp;However, you decided mess with my mind around mile 1.25 or so. &amp;nbsp; Instead of giving in to your cries for attention, I took deep breaths and willed you to go away. &amp;nbsp;I was glad that you took the hint because I was in no mood to run/walk last night, after your appearance on Friday evening. &amp;nbsp;Now that I've remembered how to make you go away, I want you to know that you are no longer welcome to join me on my runs. &amp;nbsp;I don't have time to entertain you and you really screw up my breathing. &amp;nbsp;So if you DO try to pop in on my three miles tonight, I'm going to take deep breaths until you get the hint and go back to wherever you came from. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace out,&lt;/div&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-8874054281670694914?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/GAub0L4IUbg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/8874054281670694914/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=8874054281670694914" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/8874054281670694914?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/8874054281670694914?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/GAub0L4IUbg/2-miles.html" title="2 Miles" /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/06/2-miles.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0YDSXs_cSp7ImA9WhZbFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-3979690834596273024</id><published>2011-06-20T10:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-20T10:46:18.549-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-20T10:46:18.549-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Our life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="1/4 Marathon" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Running" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My life" /><title>4 miles.  It wasn't pretty, but I got it done.</title><content type="html">Friday after work, I headed out to do four miles. &amp;nbsp;Because of a trip to Pittsburgh, we decided to do the four instead of the scheduled 2. &amp;nbsp;Instead of doing the two, we opted for two much needed rest days. &amp;nbsp;While I was running, I was giving some thoughts to why I was doing this and how it was making me feel. &amp;nbsp;So here it goes:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;I had to walk, and that was ok.&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;The day was warm and humid, and I knew that I was tired, but I headed out anyway to get this 4 miles crossed off of my list. &amp;nbsp;I started out and immediately noticed that my shoulders and biceps were tensed. &amp;nbsp;I tried to check myself and rotate my hands to loosen things up, but wasn't having any luck. &amp;nbsp;I'm pretty sure that this contributed to the dreaded side stitch, which almost always is my undoing. &amp;nbsp;I ran with it for awhile, telling it to go away, but it wouldn't listen, so I decided to walk for a bit, until it dissipated on its own. &amp;nbsp;At first, I felt guilty because I hadn't made it to 2 miles before I stopped to walk, but then I remembered &lt;a href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-relationship-with-running.html"&gt;my own post&lt;/a&gt; and decided that I was going to have fun, damn it, and running with a pain in my side wasn't fun. &amp;nbsp;I proceeded to "wog", which is a combination of run/walk, for the remainder of my miles. &amp;nbsp;To give myself some goals, I walked a song and ran a song. &amp;nbsp;My pace for the day, under at 14:00 minute mile overall, showed that when I was running, I was running faster than usual, which is a win for me.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;I love sweat wicking fabric&lt;/i&gt;. &amp;nbsp;I admit it, I was skeptical about how much those $30 Nike shirts actually WICK when it comes to sweat, but after running in 80+ degree weather, I'm a skeptic no more. &amp;nbsp;The sweat started almost as soon as I got out of the car, and I never felt damp or sticky like I feel when I run with a t-shirt.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;I remember when this used to be easer.&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;I admit it, for a few minutes (maybe more, I don't know), I allowed some self-pity to enter my mind. &amp;nbsp;I kicked myself for quitting after the last round of 1/2 marathon training and allowing myself to get back to square one. &amp;nbsp;Enough about that, moving on.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;I never want to see my name next to a DNF, ever again.&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;I remembered that after the Cap City 1/2 last May, Nick and I registered for the Columbus 10k. &amp;nbsp;The thought process was that since we'd already been training for the 1/2, and finished 13.1 miles, we'd just take a week off from running and pick things back up again, keeping the momentum going for a SHORT 6.2 mile race. &amp;nbsp;What ended up happening was that we quit running altogether and began making excuses for why we weren't continuing with our training. &amp;nbsp;The result? &amp;nbsp;We got two technical t-shirts for a race that we didn't run and two DNF's next to our names in the official results.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-3979690834596273024?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/rrkwoC7T-e8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/3979690834596273024/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=3979690834596273024" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/3979690834596273024?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/3979690834596273024?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/rrkwoC7T-e8/4-miles-it-wasnt-pretty-but-i-got-it.html" title="4 miles.  It wasn't pretty, but I got it done." /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/06/4-miles-it-wasnt-pretty-but-i-got-it.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UGQnw5eip7ImA9WhZbEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-2394739755235037629</id><published>2011-06-16T09:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-16T09:33:43.222-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-16T09:33:43.222-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="1/4 Marathon" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Running" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My life" /><title>Two miles, two MORE reasons</title><content type="html">&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;I ran because I wanted to break a bad habit&lt;/i&gt;. &amp;nbsp;Last night's plan was supposed to be: &amp;nbsp;leave work, quick trip to the store while Nick did his two miles, my two miles while dinner was cooking, dinner, TV and bed. &amp;nbsp;What ended up happening was that I got home late, around 7:30, which threw off the whole plan, which sometimes sends me into a downward spiral of excuses. &amp;nbsp;In my head, it was the perfect reason to postpone the inevitable until this morning. &amp;nbsp;Knowing myself as I do, I also knew that I wouldn't wake up to get the run done and would begin a 24 hour cycle of self-hatred, which was really completely unnecessary. &amp;nbsp;So instead of justifying, I got dressed and got it done.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;I ran because I said that I was going to.&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;I keep my training schedule tacked up in my cube. &amp;nbsp;I highlight the dates and the miles as I go. &amp;nbsp;This serves as 9-5 "public record" of my progress. &amp;nbsp;My boss knows that I'm running and I mentioned to him last night that I had to run when I got home. &amp;nbsp;I would have felt like the world's biggest idiot had I come in today and not been able to highlight that two miles. &amp;nbsp;Putting an X through it would have meant that I was going to be two miles short this week and that the yellow highlighted line through my week would have been broken. &amp;nbsp;The fact that this is something that would bother me is proof that I'm getting back into the training groove. &lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;u&gt;Last night's stats&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Distance: &amp;nbsp;2 miles&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Avg. pace: &amp;nbsp;12'39"/mile&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Total time: &amp;nbsp;25:24&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Calories: &amp;nbsp;276&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-2394739755235037629?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/nevNhuVsLBo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/2394739755235037629/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=2394739755235037629" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/2394739755235037629?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/2394739755235037629?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/nevNhuVsLBo/two-miles-two-more-reasons.html" title="Two miles, two MORE reasons" /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/06/two-miles-two-more-reasons.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0QAQ347fip7ImA9WhZbEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-8718090931444379376</id><published>2011-06-15T08:41:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-16T09:35:42.006-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-16T09:35:42.006-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="1/4 Marathon" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Running" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My life" /><title>Two more miles, two more reasons</title><content type="html">There were two more miles on last night's schedule and instead of focusing on why I didn't want to change into my running clothes and get out there (which can be attributed to laziness by the way), I once again tried to focus on two more reasons why I wanted to run. &amp;nbsp;Here they are. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;I ran because I had no real reason not to. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;Because, really, "I don't want to" isn't a good excuse when it comes to training. &amp;nbsp;Of course I want to, or I wouldn't have signed up to do the race in the first place.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;I ran for how good it makes me feel...especially when I'm done. &lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;During my run, I was fighting the urge to give in to a side stitch, but didn't, because I knew that I would hate myself if I succumbed to the urge to stop and walk&lt;i&gt;. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;When I finished, and I felt the sweat pouring down my face, arms and hands (yes, hands!), I knew I gave it everything I could for those two short miles. &amp;nbsp;There was no second guessing because there was no stopping.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ol&gt;These two miles were two more miles that I put between myself and my tendency to self sabotage and second guess. &amp;nbsp;For me, running is still as much a mental sport as it is a physical sport, but I think that this latest endeavor finally has me on the right track.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;u&gt;Stats:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Distance: &amp;nbsp;2 miles&lt;br /&gt;
Avg. Pace: &amp;nbsp;12'53"/mile&lt;br /&gt;
Total time: &amp;nbsp;25:48&lt;br /&gt;
Calories: &amp;nbsp;276&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-8718090931444379376?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/9zDQfVBEM38" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/8718090931444379376/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=8718090931444379376" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/8718090931444379376?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/8718090931444379376?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/9zDQfVBEM38/two-more-miles-two-more-reasons.html" title="Two more miles, two more reasons" /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/06/two-more-miles-two-more-reasons.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0MEQn44eSp7ImA9WhZbEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-956724011182066958</id><published>2011-06-14T10:38:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-16T09:36:43.031-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-16T09:36:43.031-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="1/4 Marathon" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Running" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My life" /><title>Two miles, two reasons</title><content type="html">During last night's run, I tried to focus on the positive instead of psyching myself out. Since I was running two miles, I tried to think of two reasons why I was running that night.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;I ran because so many people can't.&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;I am lucky enough to have no physical reason why I can't get out there and hit the trail. &amp;nbsp;I've silenced my excuses as best I can, so that the only barrier left for me is my mind. &amp;nbsp;I did my best to silence &lt;u&gt;that&lt;/u&gt; with an eclectic mix of Fergie, The Offspring and Lady Gaga as my soundtrack last night.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;I ran because I wanted to.&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;There was no one forcing me to get out there and do it. &amp;nbsp;Sure, I'll say that I don't want to do it and complain for most of the time, but at the end of the day, there wasnn't anyone holding a gun to my head, telling me to get it done. &amp;nbsp;I did it for me. &amp;nbsp;And also for the Nike+ voice that told me that I accomplished two miles and also ran my fastest mile since before 1/2 marathon training last year. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think that my Nike+ "voice" needs a name. &amp;nbsp;He is a male and sounds D. West from Maury Povich - the one who wore sweater vests without anything underneath and would come on the show and drag unruly teenagers off to boot camp. &amp;nbsp;What shall I call him?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;u&gt;Stats:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Distance: &amp;nbsp;2 miles&lt;br /&gt;
Avg. pace: &amp;nbsp;12'51"/mile&lt;br /&gt;
Time: &amp;nbsp;25:49&lt;br /&gt;
Calories: &amp;nbsp;278&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-956724011182066958?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/uwuiwQ3nl84" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/956724011182066958/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=956724011182066958" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/956724011182066958?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/956724011182066958?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/uwuiwQ3nl84/two-miles-two-reasons.html" title="Two miles, two reasons" /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/06/two-miles-two-reasons.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MHSXY4cSp7ImA9WhZbEEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-7486203193837023864</id><published>2011-06-14T09:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T09:50:38.839-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-14T09:50:38.839-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="1/4 Marathon" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Running" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My life" /><title>A new relationship with running</title><content type="html">If you were to compare my relationship with the sport of running to a relationship where I'm the girl and running is the boy, the story would go something like this:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Girl meets boy in a bar, when she wasn't really looking to meet that special someone&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Girl falls madly in love with boy, then hates him, then loves him, then loves to hate him and then loves him again (even though she still kind of hates him)&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Girl and boy hang out &lt;b&gt;EVERY SINGLE DAY&lt;/b&gt;, listening to music and sweating profusely {{wink wink}}&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Girl and boy take their relationship to the next level&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Girl gets home from Vegas and stops returning the calls and texts from the boy&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Boy keeps calling and texting, but girl refuses to budge&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Girl feels guilty and calls the boy back after about 3 months&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Repeat @2-6&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Girl then half heartedly dates boy off and on for months&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Girl feels guilty for her bad behavior&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Girl gives boy another chance, but on the condition that they "take things slowly"&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ol&gt;So here I am, starting at #11, trying to find my new relationship with running. Previously, as you can see by my crazy example, I was in somewhat of an abusive relationship with the sport, binging on half-marathon training and then quitting cold turkey, starting again and then quitting....again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The reason I like running is that it provides THE best cardio workout for me. &amp;nbsp;Running brings my heart rate up higher than the elliptical and the bike (except for spinning class). &amp;nbsp;Running is the workout that challenges my mind &lt;i&gt;and&lt;/i&gt; my body. &amp;nbsp;Running makes me sweat, which tells me that my body is working. &amp;nbsp;As part of this new relationship, I need to learn to accept and embrace that challenge rather than running away from it (pun intended) and self sabotaging.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In order to shift my thinking and to invite running to become a more permanent fixture in my life, I've decided to train for the Emerald City 1/4 marathon. &amp;nbsp;I've chosen to do a 1/4 marathon instead of a 1/2 because I need the accountability of a schedule and a checklist of miles. &amp;nbsp;I know myself and know that I can't be trusted to just open my arms and welcome the sport back to my life. &amp;nbsp;I need to take the journey of "I think I can" on my way to "I know I can" by doing the shorter weekday runs to let the process happen naturally. &amp;nbsp;My short term goal is to complete the 1/4 marathon without walking, but my ultimate goal is to develop a long-term relationship with this sport, a healthy one, the kind that I don't have to start over every three months.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-7486203193837023864?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/TY7SSSqkc5o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/7486203193837023864/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=7486203193837023864" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/7486203193837023864?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/7486203193837023864?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/TY7SSSqkc5o/new-relationship-with-running.html" title="A new relationship with running" /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-relationship-with-running.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0UDSHc7fip7ImA9WhZUGUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-3148507465471014411</id><published>2011-06-13T08:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T08:47:59.906-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-13T08:47:59.906-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Chino" /><title>Underbite</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PiQqfjF2QeU/TfYGrCHV1ZI/AAAAAAAAA_c/JWBMjWEhB0o/s1600/IMG_1291.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PiQqfjF2QeU/TfYGrCHV1ZI/AAAAAAAAA_c/JWBMjWEhB0o/s400/IMG_1291.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;See that little hint of an underbite? &amp;nbsp;According to his vet, it confirms the DNA "diagnosis" that this giant, shedding, water-loving mutt is part Chihuahua. &amp;nbsp;Who knew?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-3148507465471014411?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/7_BO9datH3g" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/3148507465471014411/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=3148507465471014411" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/3148507465471014411?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/3148507465471014411?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/7_BO9datH3g/underbite.html" title="Underbite" /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PiQqfjF2QeU/TfYGrCHV1ZI/AAAAAAAAA_c/JWBMjWEhB0o/s72-c/IMG_1291.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/06/underbite.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0YERng7cSp7ImA9WhZbEEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-5179215691932567052</id><published>2011-06-08T20:14:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T10:18:27.609-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-14T10:18:27.609-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Chino" /><title>I am the Furminator</title><content type="html">I don't know what it is about the &lt;a href="http://www.furminator.com/"&gt;Furminator&lt;/a&gt;, but it makes me happy (Chino, not so much).&amp;nbsp; Maybe its because I'm a results oriented person?&amp;nbsp; Or maybe I'm just lazy and would rather deal with dog hair, straight from the source, rather than having it blowing all over the floor like yellow, fuzzy tumbleweeds.&amp;nbsp; Either way, this is truly the best dog brush on the market if you have a shedding pup.&amp;nbsp; I hear that the cat version is pretty good too, but I can't speak to that.&amp;nbsp; I wanted to recreate the Furminator ad and have Chino laying here patiently, with his fur piles all around him, but that would have taken too many treats and then I'd be dealing with &lt;em&gt;diarrhea&lt;/em&gt; on the floor instead of tumbleweeds. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tS3R5JYutKo/TfAOusZ-aYI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/4W3379kh0GI/s1600/259527_512604624804_74300391_30280420_2043170_o%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tS3R5JYutKo/TfAOusZ-aYI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/4W3379kh0GI/s320/259527_512604624804_74300391_30280420_2043170_o%25282%2529.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;To get Chino to participate in his Furmination, requires lots of patience and treats and sometimes assistance from Nick.&amp;nbsp; However, we both know that Chino is totally playing us.&amp;nbsp; How do I know?&amp;nbsp; I tried the Furminator on my on head and it didn't hurt, which is proof that Chino is really being a drama queen.&amp;nbsp; The disclaimer under this photo should read:&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt; No mutts were harmed during this Furmination session. The mutt pictured consumed a ridiculous amount of T-Bonz treats in exchange for his cooperation.&amp;nbsp; If you or anyone you know is a victim of a psycho dog mom, please remember to act annoyed and she'll give you extra food.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-5179215691932567052?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/dGOnhhas7nE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/5179215691932567052/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=5179215691932567052" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/5179215691932567052?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/5179215691932567052?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/dGOnhhas7nE/i-am-furminator.html" title="I am the Furminator" /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tS3R5JYutKo/TfAOusZ-aYI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/4W3379kh0GI/s72-c/259527_512604624804_74300391_30280420_2043170_o%25282%2529.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-am-furminator.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE8AQ30-fyp7ImA9WhZbGEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-8586786206823113154</id><published>2011-06-03T21:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T15:20:42.357-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-23T15:20:42.357-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Photography" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My life" /><title>A blog about a blog</title><content type="html">That pelican (why do I keep wanting to type penguin!?!) photo that I submitted to &lt;a href="http://www.canvaspop.com/"&gt;Canvas Pop&lt;/a&gt; caught the eye of one of their designers and they asked me to be their photo of the day! &amp;nbsp;I was so excited. &amp;nbsp;Check me out on their &lt;a href="http://blog.canvaspop.com/2011/05/canvas-print-of-the-day-pelican-in-st-croix/"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt;!!!!! &amp;nbsp;Also - check out the &lt;s&gt;penguin&lt;/s&gt; pelican here:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XAGQpkfwu0o/TgOR6MrrU3I/AAAAAAAAA_g/SMbf8eqPeZc/s1600/5730278118_5c0eb35f4a_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XAGQpkfwu0o/TgOR6MrrU3I/AAAAAAAAA_g/SMbf8eqPeZc/s400/5730278118_5c0eb35f4a_b.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span id="goog_797085590"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="goog_797085591"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-8586786206823113154?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/mVUGEY_FDTw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/8586786206823113154/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=8586786206823113154" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/8586786206823113154?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/8586786206823113154?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/mVUGEY_FDTw/blog-about-blog.html" title="A blog about a blog" /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XAGQpkfwu0o/TgOR6MrrU3I/AAAAAAAAA_g/SMbf8eqPeZc/s72-c/5730278118_5c0eb35f4a_b.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/06/blog-about-blog.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04FRX0-eCp7ImA9WhZUEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-3507976638711082349</id><published>2011-06-02T16:16:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-02T16:18:34.350-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-02T16:18:34.350-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Chino" /><title>Eight Fun Facts</title><content type="html">&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;If after your dog consumes a goose turd you see a tooth in his mouth that LOOKS rotten, its probably not. &amp;nbsp;Its probably just left over goose poop. &amp;nbsp;Think chocolate, but not.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Its easier to catch a dog with a dog. &amp;nbsp;Chino has been used as "bait" multiple times and boasts a 100% recovery rate.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;If you light a tick on fire, it blows up. &amp;nbsp;Ok maybe blowing up is a TAD dramatic, but it definitely pops. &amp;nbsp;Like one of those white popper things that well...pops.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Ticks are gross.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Nick likes lighting things on fire - especially ticks. &amp;nbsp;See #3.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;I think that Chino enjoys being inspected for ticks. &amp;nbsp;He'd deny it.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;I'm the queen of bug inspection. &amp;nbsp;I point, Nick picks and then ignites.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Yesterday, Nick found a tick on my shirt. &amp;nbsp;I freaked out.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-3507976638711082349?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/c3gimQYPs3M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/3507976638711082349/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=3507976638711082349" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/3507976638711082349?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/3507976638711082349?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/c3gimQYPs3M/eight-fun-facts.html" title="Eight Fun Facts" /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/06/eight-fun-facts.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMMQng4eCp7ImA9WhZVGEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-3313282778712812127</id><published>2011-05-31T10:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-31T10:01:23.630-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-31T10:01:23.630-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Our life" /><title>My weekend.  In a list.</title><content type="html">&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Early dismissal at 1pm - woohoo! &amp;nbsp;EXTRA long weekend!&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Wedding band and engagement rings re-rhodiumed. &amp;nbsp;In one day. &amp;nbsp;Sparkles.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Happy hourS with former co-workers who are now just friends. &amp;nbsp;Therapeutic.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Wine with my cousin in-law and his future wife.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Donut for breakfast.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Lunch with friends.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Crawl for Cancer!&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Mechanical bull :(&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Hiccups.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Ice cream.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Therapy session in M&amp;amp;S's backyard. &amp;nbsp;Understanding.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Bed.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Puffy eyes.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Bridal shower.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Chino's pool&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Nap&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Front porch.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Two movies.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Doritos.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Bed.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;CLEANING.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Appliance shopping.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;New dryer.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Cookout.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Doggie playdate.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Dryer installation.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Bed.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-3313282778712812127?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/SnMMRqIvG2Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/3313282778712812127/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=3313282778712812127" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/3313282778712812127?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/3313282778712812127?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/SnMMRqIvG2Y/my-weekend-in-list.html" title="My weekend.  In a list." /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-weekend-in-list.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYMRngzcCp7ImA9WhZVFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5216259258852185094.post-7685080312409059201</id><published>2011-05-27T12:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-27T12:03:07.688-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-27T12:03:07.688-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Our life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Europe" /><title>Some of the best days of my life</title><content type="html">First, let me say that I refuse to qualify any one event as the best day of my life.&amp;nbsp; I feel  its too limiting.&amp;nbsp; The way I look at it, if I had the best day of my life when I was 26, then the rest of my life is going to be one big let  down, so my best day can and does change on a regular basis.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes  daily, sometimes hourly and Europe was no different.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Since I never did finish my series of VERY long overdue vacation posts from our trip to Europe last year, I figured, why not now? &amp;nbsp;Closure is a good thing. &amp;nbsp;As I was thinking about those posts, they were just a series of narratives, chronicling the trip that we took, showcasing some of my favorite &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/llollo828/sets/72157623707127066/"&gt;photographs&lt;/a&gt;, which jogged some memories of the day and of the country that we were visiting.&amp;nbsp; Now that its been over a year since we took the trip of a lifetime, I think its a great time to reflect on what I can only describe as a dream come true and some of the best days of my life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The trip started out as a complete disaster, thanks to canceled flights and missing luggage, and I admit that I was a tad crazed about the entire &lt;strike&gt;situation&lt;/strike&gt; nightmare.&amp;nbsp; Thankfully, we made it to London, better late than never, and spent SOME time exploring what we could.&amp;nbsp; Since it was late, we were forced to prioritize, so we dropped our &lt;strike&gt;luggage&lt;/strike&gt; carry-ons and headed out to find a pub for some fish and chips.&amp;nbsp; Along the way, we happened to see a double-decker bus and one of the red, iconic phone booths.&amp;nbsp; It wasn't the whirlwind tour that I had imagined, but I was still able to check some items off of my "things to see in London" list.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The next day, when we met up with our group, is when I realized that this would be so much more than a vacation or a tour.&amp;nbsp; We started to see people trickle in to the meeting place, which was a small cafe near the hotel.&amp;nbsp; We were relieved to see that the majority of people were around our age, which had been a concern because &lt;a href="http://www.contiki.com/"&gt;Contiki&lt;/a&gt; specializes in the 18-35 crowd, which is quite a range of lifestyles and interests. &amp;nbsp; I was also pleased that a majority of our fellow travelers were from Australia, which meant that I'd get to hear that awesome accent for two whole weeks! &amp;nbsp;It was actually strange NOT to hear that accent when we got back to the US.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The entire two weeks is so difficult to put into words or to explain.&amp;nbsp; It was like someone picked me up and placed me on the set of a movie, except that the movie was my life and the set was one of the most intriguing and beautiful places that I'd ever seen. &amp;nbsp;Its all a wonderful, colorful blur that even now, I can't believe. &amp;nbsp;Crossing the English channel, realizing that I was "landing" in Callais, France - think Three Musketeers!&amp;nbsp; Walking through the Red Light district in Amsterdam, seeing that certain things really ARE legal there. &amp;nbsp;Counting castles along the Rine River, shopping for beer steins before we headed to Munich.&amp;nbsp; Driving by the Oktoberfest grounds. &amp;nbsp;Walking through the gates of a concentration camp and not being able to put into words the power of that place. &amp;nbsp;Standing among the Austrian Alps, looking up on snow-covered ski slopes and a mountain lake. &amp;nbsp;Seeing our luggage being wheeled through the front door of a hotel (ok that was just a big moment for me!). &amp;nbsp;Walking through the colosseum in Rome and looking up at the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. &amp;nbsp;Floating through the streets of Venice in a Gondola. &amp;nbsp;Navigating the streets of Rome, trying not to get hit by a car. &amp;nbsp;And finally...looking up at the Eiffel Tower and then looking down from the very top.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5216259258852185094-7685080312409059201?l=lynsda828.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~4/rNZkYQbJdkE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/feeds/7685080312409059201/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5216259258852185094&amp;postID=7685080312409059201" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/7685080312409059201?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5216259258852185094/posts/default/7685080312409059201?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyLifeHisLifeOurLifeAndADogNamedChino/~3/rNZkYQbJdkE/some-of-best-days-of-my-life.html" title="Some of the best days of my life" /><author><name>Linda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14878174156119046239</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aM6ZGH64oM4/SYC6ddq403I/AAAAAAAAAVY/wkBUUeGu3xg/S220/n74300391_30064827_6778.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lynsda828.blogspot.com/2011/05/some-of-best-days-of-my-life.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

