Lover Lover

This song is more chilled than frozen grapes and packs more punch too. It's positively flavoursome.

In fact, I like-like it. Yup, there's some music loving going on here for Lover Lover.

She's a runner, she's my sister

Last Sunday I played chief bag carrier/driver/cheerleader/photographer for Mish’s first race. She 8km ran in The Mother’s Day classic!

I’m positively beside myself that she’s taking up running. We’re already plotting where to run a marathon together. Berlin? London? Paris? Little Rock?

Mish chilling in converse

Pre-race

Go Outside

I tested my hip today. I've been pain free for three days and decided it was time.

I ran 5km and I'm feeling fine.

In fact I feel incredibly happy, I can't wait to go outside for another run tomorrow.

Trigger point

[Valentino Vamp]

This picture is an uncanny replication of my physio session yesterday.

My legs awkwardly thrown in the air, bottom exposed and a look of pain + helplessness on my face, as my physio (a muscle bound, ex-rugby player) did trigger pint massage on my right gluts. Ouch.

I have a pile of stretching and strengthening exercises to do, but a return to running is looking likely for the weekend ahead. Booyah!

I want you back

It's four days since I last went for a run. I’m feeling a little bit antsy to say the least.

This song ties all my thoughts together:

- Skeleton motif (I am constantly thinking about my hip joint and sacrum)

- Lyrics “I want you back” (I want running back please)

- Random assortments of clutter (my head space feels cluttered)

- Displays of angst (My family are also feeling the pain of my running withdrawal. I am a bit of a grumpy pants at the moment)

I did get a laugh out of this brilliant thread on Cool Running.

Oh this happy day

I'm feeling a bit lackluster and lazy at the moment.

It doesn't help matters that it feels as though I have a nail wedged into my right shin and a bottle of clag has been poured into my right hip joint.

So I had to reluctantly forego my long run this morning (read: my Mother held my running shoes ransom and demanded I rest these silly injuries).

With ample time on my hands I went in search of pretty pictures and was quickly distracted. Suddenly the day is looking a little bit more lustrous, albeit lazy.

[gracia and louise]

[Valentino vamp]

[hit the wall]

[Valentino vamp]

[Liam Stevens]

[Vintage poster]

[Kate Shaw]

Lots of these were found through the divine blog: Where the Lovely things are.

Daylight in the daytime

[Canada Bay on the weekend]

Goodbye Daylight savings.

I'm ever so happy not to run in the dark. My mind would turn shadows into sinister misters and I could never find a white shirt or reflective gear to wear.

Breaking bread

I'm basking in the afterglow of a sinfully sedate weekend, of running, reading and eating.

Lots and lots of eating.

Slices of buttery soda bread, baked fresh Saturday morning by Paddy the Baker, to whet the appetite.

[Paddy the baker]

My heart is still in palpitations, just thinking about the clotted cream, scones and delightfully fluffy butterfly cakes, from an afternoon tea I attended Saturday arvo.

[scones[

Mish and I had a Sunday morning brunch at the rustic 2042. We splashed out to celebrate our first training run together and hatched elaborate pans to compete in upcoming events, including a 29km cross country run.

[2042]

Easter eggs were inhaled by the handful.

I talked myself horse, when I caught up with some uni mates at the bizarrely named Pumpkin House café. It resembles an army bunker, as the outside is draped in camflougaed coloured mesh sheeting and is lit by small lanterns. There is only one pumpkin dish on the menu (soup) as it specialises in milkshakes served with a side of popcorn.

It’s slightly unconventional to crab load seven weeks before a race, partly because there’s no scientific evidence, but mainly because it’s called over indulging. But it sure is fun.

The 80s

Roller skates. check.

Animal masks. check.

Karate kid pose. check.

Joyous running. check.

Sensual egg cracking. check.

BMX bandits. check.

Yup, this is one kooky, yet compelling clip. You could waste hours analysing the meaning behind the sequences and 1980s motif employed - or you can just groove to the song.

I know what I'll be spending my time doing.

Fingers crossed

[Fingers crossed]

Fingers crossed things pick up for everyone less fortunate than me - Japan, Libya, Christchurch, Pakistan floods and the list goes on.

I'm participating in Run for Japan- a fantastic idea from the boys behind the Marathon Talk podcast. You basically dedicate a run to Japan and donate some cash after the run.

So this Sunday's 17km training run is for you Japan.

Maths run

This blog is a document to how much I adore music, with strong inclinations towards indie music. I also love running. I love doing it, reading about it, plotting routes, highlighting training plans, talking about it, listening to other people talk about it, day dreaming about it, buying running apparel.

Yup, I’m in deep.

[image via: Tuesdayaffairs]

I wasn’t too shabby at maths at school, but I’ve certainly lost what the limited skills I had. However this is a simple equation features on indie running soup:

Indie music + Running = Happiness

Square the resultant and times by 86, then you come to close to describing how music and running make me feel.

Thanks to Indie running soup I'm positively besides myself for my run tomorrow. I've picked the 2010 year in the review mix:

Philadelphia Grand Jury - "The Good News"


The Fast Romantics - "Moneymouth"


Hellogoodbye - "You Sleep Alone"


Fanfarlo - "Sand & Ice"


Sam Isaac - "Come Back Home Tonight"


The Budos Band - "Unbroken, Unshaven"


Rodrigo y Gabriela - "Buster Voodoo"


Robbers On High Street - "Electric Eye"


Hot Chip - "Thieves in the Night"


Scissor Sisters - "Sex and Violence"


Phantogram - "As Far As I Can See"


Oberhofer - "I Could Go"


Sleigh Bells - "Tell 'Em"


Hungry Kids of Hungary - "The Vacationer"

They also offer the delightfully entitled podcasts - rotten toenails, heart attack mix, junk run mix, intervals with the indies, shin splint mix. Bliss.

Friday fodder

There are some things to ruminate over the weekend:

PEN: E.L.K

PAPER: The making of Fantastic Mr Fox - this book gives me heart palpitations just thinking about how fantastic it looks. Gimme gimme gimme!

PLAY:

We had a boardgames night last night - it was just a few intense rounds of Articulate and Scattergories - which probably isn't nearly as hardcore as 'Tiddly Winks'. I'm not sure what the rules of the game are or the purpose, but the boy on the box looks like he's going in for the kill.

[Tiddly winks]

I'm going to two BBQ's this weekend, one for mate who is coming home from the UK for a quick visit so we're amping up the Aussie factor to make them feel at home and the other is to celebrate a mate not being eaten alive by sharks during their debut open water swim. Huzzah!

It's also picnic time for Tropfest 2011

The Warriors

I rolled out of bed early Saturday morning and drove with my siblings to the Glenworth Valley. Instead of the typical serene sounds of a bubbling brook or a chorus of chirping birds, the valley was filled with thousands of people screaming WARRIOR!!

Finally the day of the warrior dash arrived!

The cross country run was broken up with obstacles like the deadweight drifter, rivers of mud and high ropes. I got to fulfil my dream of pretending to be rookie cop from Police Academy - by sliding across the bonnet of a car in the junkyard jump.

[kilts]

There were heaps of people dressed for the occasion, with a heavy contingency of kilt wearing warriors present. Unfortunately I didn't spot anyone dressed up like one of 'The Warriors' from the 1979 cult classic film. Perhaps next year I'm be a bit more organised!

[Dancing with fire]

[clean up]

I was feeling pretty hard core about leaping over a 'wall of fire'...until I watched 127 hours. Amazing film.

Sweets

I'm trying to get into top form for a couple of upcoming races in May, June and possibly July. So that means cutting out cake. Sigh. Luckily for me the ABC are sedating my sweet tooth with some delectable eye candy.

Adam Hills Live in Gordon Street Tonight is hosted by none other than Adam Hills. It's like a toasted marshmallow - by all appearances it looks innocence and sweet, with homely rustic touches but it has saucy centre. Adam Hills is a gentleman comic and brings out the best in his interviewees, even rambling streaks of sexual innuendo - I hope that this show is a long stayer.

Then there's Marieke Hardy's new show - Laid. A wonderfully dark humoured series about Roo McVie's attempts to figure out why her past thrusts are ending up dead. A bizarre concept, but works well so far as it's carried on the shoulders of a cast of quirky but realistic characters.

Debbie

I slept in this morning. I had planned to do a long run, however the day has moseyed along, inching up celsius by celsius. So a late breakfast with the newspapers and dip in the local pool is the new plan.

Debbie Carlos sounds to be a bit more organised on the weekend. She camps, she cooks and takes dreamy photos.

Earth + Wind + Fire = Warrior Dash

[Image via: Notes on becoming Fearless]

Is that a bird? Is that a plane?

Nope. That's me lumbering of the sidewalk, slathered in sweat and beet red.

Training for The Warrior Dash commences tomorrow!

Sweet Sydney

[beach time]

Two consecutive days of swimming, snoozing and running at the beach.

The rain of Brisbane feels a million miles away.

Sydney I could hug you and smother you in kisses, unfortunately you're going to rain on my parade this week ahead.

Partner in crime

[photo via: Fashion gone rogue]

Everyone needs a partner in crime.

My sister is mine.

We don't hesitant in pulling out "the shopping trolley", "sprinkler" or "christmas tree" at any given moment - not even a down pour could stop us during Yacht Club DJ's at Sunset Sounds.

She isn't addicted to running or Greek Yogurt like I am. She's addicted to cheesy action flicks circa 1980s such as this, this and this. Though she loves Nancy Mitford just as much as I do. She's also an amazing cook.

So say hello to my sister Mishy, as she'll be baking, sauteing and flambéing you something soon.

Dance! Dance! Pants!

I like to dance.

I have a tasty little repertoire of tried and true moves, mostly learnt from aerobics Oz Style, Zumba and Video clips from the nineties - all executed with the grit and determination of not putting Baby in the corner.

A couple of years ago I caught El Guincho and danced so vigorously I couldn't walk up stairs for a few days following.

They make such infectiously toe tapping beats, I've since included a couple tracks in my running playlists. Sure I'm not any closer to being an Olympic Champion, but I am certain they make me slightly more quick footed. Like a Tiger.

El Guincho in NYC

They're back in town and playing tonight. Olay!

Besides being such an audible treat, they're worth seeing play as they resemble a Spanish version of Flight of the Conchords - kooky, bizarre, endearing! Plus you're guaranteed to carry home a bucket of your own sweat.