Rocks, roots, and rolls...

Brad and I raced twice over the past week. Last Wednesday, we raced the Lynn Woods Relay, a cross country race in which 4 members run 2.5 mile legs. The course starts on a flat, but juts upward about 300 yards in. Then, we climb for a bit less than a mile, hit the top of the hill, and run down it for an equal distance before we hit the parking lot. GBTC (our club) had a huge showing and almost everyone ran well. Brad and I both ran solid races. After the race, one of our teammates pulled out his grill and a bunch of meat and we spent the rest of the night grilling and chatting.

We raced again on Saturday morning out in Carlisle, Mass. The cross country course was definitely designed by runners and
for runners. It was full of rocks, roots, hills, dirt, grass, corn, you name it! This race was a bit more competitive than the Lynn Woods Relay, largely because it was part of the XC grand prix series, a group of 7 XC races with team and individual scoring. For those of you readers who know me as a runner, you are well aware that I have a reputation for fabulous displays of wicked ankle sprains. I can do them anywhere...trails, hills, even concrete. This race was no exception. I tripped over a root somewhere toward the beginning of the race in a somewhat muted style. The fall was not too dramatic; however, the ankle sprain that resulted definitely etched the fall in my mind for the next 3 miles. Then, about 1 mile before the finish, I tripped over another root as we were running downhill, flailed through the air, and barely caught the ground with my only sturdy foot. A man behind me put his arms out to lift me but I was able to regain my composure pretty quickly. At that point, I was both physically and mentally spent. I spent the last mile dragging my left leg behind me while my right quad burned with the pressure of supporting all my weight. Mentally, I tried to regroup but I had lost so much ground over the race due to my ankle that I couldn't even feel too competitive. I held myself together and even mustered a one legged kick to the finish where Brad promptly escorted me to the car, plopped a bag of ice on my ankle, and dutifully listened to my war story. Brad's race was not as eventful. He finished second for the team after going out wicked fast and slowly feeling the effects over the course. Both pictures are from Saturday's race (top picture from Jim Rhoades from www.coolrunning.com; bottom picture from Emily Raymond). Our next race - the Ollie 5 miler on September 9th. Between now and then, lots and lots o' miles!

Last night's adventure

We went to bed last night after 4 hours of "The Office" with Katie, 2 bottles of wine, and countless laughs. Visions of rainbows and butterflies danced through my dreams and the cool outside breeze ruffled our bedroom curtains. All was well. Until...

5 am. I hear a hiss, thump, and yell from the other side of the bed and feel the mattress vibrate under the moving weight of something enormous. I look over at Brad, who has his hand on the side of his face, bright red blood oozing from between his fingers onto the stark white pillowcase. He moves his hand from his face and his whole left ear and side of face is dyed crimson. Joey, our 20 pound Maine Coon cat, flies off the bed in fear as Brad and I jump out of bed and haul into the bathroom. I begin to dab Brad's face, trying to find the origin of the endless stream of blood as Brad dizzily tries to collect himself. Eventually, I find what I'm looking for...2 deep gashes cut across the side of Brad's head and 5 equally deep gashes pattern his left ear. Blood pours from each cut as I try to assess whether or not to get this guy to the hospital. Brad moves me aside, steadies himself, and checks out his ear. He continues to clean it as he tells me what happened. Joey, our lovable and somewhat stupid big cat, frequently gets into hissing arguments with the local outdoor cat that roams the neighborhood at night. Last night, the cat must have spooked Joey more than usual, causing Joey to throw his 20 pound frame and clawed paws right onto the side of Brad's head from the window sill (which sits a good 3 feet above Brad's head). His claws must have dug into Brad's ear and skull as he darted across the bed.



We decided the cuts weren't deep enough to necessitate a hospital visit (the picture doesn't really show too much), doctored them up ourselves with some good ol' Neosporin, drank a few glasses of water, changed the blood soaked pillow cases, and went back to sleep for a couple of hours. Needless to say, before I drifted back off to sleep, I closed the usually open bedroom windows and shut the blinds so that Joey couldn't see outside. Poor kitty was scared by the frenzy so much that he spent the rest of the morning under the bed. He is still there now.

AVP, BBQ, & MSU

The weekend started with a Friday night Sushi run to one of our local, favorite dining spots where I coaxed Brad into playing the 'identify the fish' game (I close my eyes, he gives me a roll, and I guess what kind of fish I'm eating). I received a perfect score - hopefully a preview into this semester's academic marks. Our fun was hampered a bit when a party of 8, including 5 loud and hungry children, noisily sat next to us. I supposed kids have to eat too.

Saturday began with a 14 mile run for me, 19 mile run for Brad, over the trails and hills of Boston. I ran with 3 training partners, 2 of whom are training for fall marathons and 1 who starts singing out of boredom about 20 minutes into each run. I reunited with the singing star later that morning as the 4 of us (Brad, Sloan:-), Drew, and I) spent the day watching an AVP professional volleyball tournament (www.avp.com). Teams of two played each other in best-of-three games, ending in the final at 4:30 where we watched Phil Dalhausser and Todd Rogers trounce Casey Jennings and Matt Fuerbringer (AKA - The Golden God). Drew tried his hand at winning a pair of tickets to Las Vegas in an open game but came just a little shy of his goal as his moderately drunk partner watched the volleyball hit the soft sand with an 'oops'. The first picture is of Brad contemplating the finer points of the AVP while the second picture captures the crowd favorite Jennings/Fuerbringer duo.



Sunday, my little brother, Luke, left for his first year at Michigan State University (Brad's alma mater). I thought my mom would have a really hard time with him leaving but she seemed in high spirits when I talked to her after she left his dorm yesterday. He is rooming with his best friend of 11 years so I'm not too worried about him! We ended the weekend with a vegetarian bbq on our friends, Bruce and Christy's, Cambridge private patio where we ate animal friendly grilled goods (see picture) and drank Australian red wine until the sun went down. Yet another memorable weekend in Boston.

Falmouth Road Race

Last weekend, Brad and I joined our favorite friends for a weekend of camping and racing on Massachusett's famous Cape Cod. I delivered my annual moan n' groan camping routine the Friday we left for the Cape (it should come as no surprise that I'm not a camper); however, by the time we made it to the campsite, set up, and headed out for delicious pad thai, I was thinking less and less about my sleeping accomodations and more and more about the fun weekend ahead.

After our morning run to the beach, we spent Saturday on Martha's Vineyard, walking around town, lounging on the beach, and listening to Kit relay the latin names for all sorts of creatures while Rod simply tried to save an injured butterfly. We relaxed so much that we barely had time to grab ice-cream before we had to head back to Falmouth to watch the Falmouth Mile, an elite mile race fielding some of the fastest American milers. A few hours later, full from an outstanding Italian dinner and 5 s'mores, I crawled into Brad's tent and fell asleep within seconds.

Race day began with a hurried and frenzied 15 mile per hour car trip to the buses that take us to the start of the race, followed by a runner's dream...watching dozens of elite runners warm up and stretch before the race. Falmouth Road Race is amazing - it is comprised of about 10,000 runners (one must be chosen from a lottery to race) with the top 20 or so being incredibly fast. Since we all had fast qualifying times (non-elite fast qualifying times, that is), we were chosen to start in the first corral with the hot shots.

The race was mediocre, at best, for me. I'm not in phenomenal shape right now, coming back from a bum leg that has plagued me for the past few months (since the Boston marathon), but I was able to feel a little competitive over the 7 mile coastal course. Brad ran amazingly, as evidenced in the top picture (photo by Robert Onchaga from www.coolrunning.com). Everyone else on my team, the Greater Boston Track Club, ran well, posting times consistent with their current fitness levels.

We spent the afternoon at the Bradley's house, bbqing and lounging in their backyard. By the time late afternoon rolled around, we were all sleepy, sore, and excited to get back to Boston (I was excited to get back to my own shower and a comfy bed!). The second picture (photo by Keith Bradley) is of all of us in the Bradley's front yard, about to leave the Cape to return to Boston.

Overall, a very successful weekend. Great talks, lots of laughs, good friends, fantastic food, and seashore running...life doesn't get much better!

The Boston buzz begins...

After enjoying 4 years of life in Boston, we have decided to chronicle our adventures for all our family and friends to read. Between the two of us, we have family and friends all over the globe, many with whom we keep in VERY poor contact. So, as a remedy for this, and a chance for us to flaunt our rockin' Boston lives, we've created this blog to share our wild n' crazy stories.

A quick recap (or perhaps introduction to the very long-lost relatives) of our lives...

Brad: a stunning 27 year old Biology and Chemistry teacher at the prestigious Brookline High School, Brookline, MA, enjoys long runs around the Charles River and Spanish red wines. When he isn't educating today's youth or dominating the racing scene in the New England area, he can be found spotting the trendy martini bars in Boston, reading novels in his newly acquired condo, or secretly dancing to Earth, Wind, and Fire. He comes to Boston from Michigan, where he was born, raised, and molded into a confident, competent, and somewhat sarcastic perfect specimen of a gent.

Laura: a rather opinionated and outspoken redhead, also enjoys the weekend racing scene and flashy Boston dining spots. A doctoral student in Sport Counseling Psychology at Boston University, she hopes to find a cure to the drug epidemic that has spread throughout athletics. She comes to Boston from England via Illinois and Michigan and plans to take Brad back to the home country next year to introduce him to her childhood. She and Brad have been married for 1 year, 3 months, 3 weeks, and 4 blissful days.

Well...there you have it...our lives in nutshells...visit this site for updates on our Boston happenings and, please, know you're always welcome to visit us in person, not just electronically!