5k, 5k go away, come back another day.

Truth be told, I've never been much of a "runner".  While my friends were off running track in high school, I could usually be found up on the tennis court flirting with boys in my short skirt and favorite orange and green Nikes.  Even when it came to exercise, I demanded that there be some sort of social component. But part of me has always envied those joggers as I sat at the stoplight, sipping my Starbucks, watching them run in place while impatiently waiting to cross the intersection.  And each time we would cheer on my brother-in-law in his latest marathon, part of me would think, I could do this!  Even though I get winded after walking up three flights up stairs, I COULD complete 26.2 miles without any body parts breaking and/or falling off. And because I also tend to be a bit lazy, I also thought, And you know what? I probably wouldn't even have to train that much!

So when my Brother-in-law announced his intention to run the  Surf City half marathon, I jumped at the chance to do the 5k.  I mean, everyone's got to start somewhere, right?  I formulated my training plan, bought that thing that holds your iPod on your arm and the only flattering pair of runners shorts this side of the Mississippi. I even purchased a choke chain so my unsociable German Shepard could train at my side without traumatizing every cat and small dog in the neighborhood.  I. Was. Ready.

But then something strange happened.  It began to RAIN in Southern California.  And for those of you familiar with the weather patterns out here, you know how rare it is to get more than a few inches per year, let alone a few inches per storm.  And by the time it finally stopped, my 5k training schedule, much like that show, Conveyor Belt of Love, was just a distant memory.

So, on race day, I decided to do what I do best-fake my way through it.  I pushed away the memory of getting winded walking to the registration tent the day before and did my best impersonation of someone who knew how to stretch their muscles by lifting my leg repeatedly.  And with my iPod firmly secured on my arm and bib fastened on my shirt, I was pretty damn sure that no one knew my secret. That I was going to FAIL MISERABLY.

Well, except for my husband.  I didn't miss the small smirk on his face as we ran in place waiting for the race to start.  After all, I was the one who dragged him over to the "Twelve minute Mile and WALKERS"  section.  And at the time, I mistakenly thought they were referring to people WITH walkers, not people walking.

Although I literally did not jog ONE STEP before the day of the race, I did finish, thanks to my plan to WOG. (walk and jog, emphasis on WALK.)  And while I will admit to *thinking* about taking the kids 1 mile U turn because my lungs felt as if they would collapse, I didn't do it. Even though my end time was a completely shiteous 38 minutes, a part of me was really proud of myself.  Because as I heaved and gasped did that arm thing that people on  The Biggest Loser do when they're forced to run a mile on the first show, I knew that all my humiliation would provide excellent blog material!


1. An overweight guy wearing jorts and Converse passes you like you're standing still.

2. When you stop all conversation around you by shouting that your going to "kick all the people with walkers asses" at the start line. (Note to self: take headphones off before speaking!)

3.  When Adam Lambert and Lady Gaga just aren't providing the inspiration you've hoped they would.

4. When you realize that if you double the time it took you to run the 5k, it almost equals your brother-in-laws's HALF-MARATHON finish time.

5.  When you dramatically tell your husband to "save himself" at the two mile marker when you realize a nine-year old just lapped you.

6. When you are unable to bend your legs for THREE DAYS after completing a 3.2 mile wog.

See you in April at the Seach Beach 5k!  Hopefully this time I'll actually break in my running shoes before hitting the course!

xo, Liz

How to be Zen in 2010 by Liz & Lisa

staten-island-new-year32010? Really? How did another decade pass so quickly? It seems like just yesterday that we were LOLing over Janet Jackson's wardrobe malfunction at the Superbowl and shaking our own heads full of hair when Britney Spears shaved hers. Do we even need to bring up that fake British accent?

When the clock struck midnight on New Year's Eve last week, Lisa grabbed her iPhone and kept up our yearly tradition of ringing in the first minutes of the new year, no matter how far we may be from each other.  And after a few awkward moments of slurred screaming, Liz drunkenly declared that 2010 was going to be OUR year.

The year we land an awesome agent!

The year that we get our just-finished manuscript published!


Okay, so forget that last one.  It was probably the Champagne talking.  But the other ones?   So. Happening.

So being the Type-A bitches that we are, we decided to set up some serious resolutions to make sure our dreams come true in 2010.


I couldn't WAIT to say sayonara to 2009.  Between my brother's brush with death to the stress of trying to finish our manuscript, it was a crazy year!  I woke up January 1st with a feeling of peace (and not just because I was still buzzed from my bellinis!) and a feeling that 2010 will be the year that we attain our goals.  Here  are the things I'm resolving to change in 2010...

1. Lose the *gulp* six pounds I gained this holiday season. I promise to never again stand at my kitchen counter and devour 1800 calories of Costco lobster spread and  stale baguette while the Say Yes to the Dress Christmas marathon blares in the family room.

2. Refuse to even crack a smile the next time my husband makes a Jersey Shore joke when the words "The Situation" are used in normal conversation.

3. To start jogging at least three times a week in preparation for the Huntington Beach Superbowl Sunday 5K.  Related Resolution: Stop letting the kids use my unused Bosu ball as a trampoline.

4. Resist making multiple embarrassing references about Lisa's dating past during my Matron of Honor speech at her wedding next month. And make sure to get official MOH dress properly fitted so that my cleavage is not the main attraction at the reception. Related resolution: To control urges to repeatedly request Lady GaGa songs while intoxicated.

5. To try to figure out a better cursing system since my five year old seems to have developed an affinity for spelling.  Damn you California public school system!  I was counting on your low ranking to buy me at least another year.  What the F-*-C-K?


I've never been the kind to make a vow on New Year's Eve that I'll do "this" or "that" the following year. That's probably because every year my resolution would've pretty much been the same.

FIND A MAN Or: Related Resolution: Find a man that's not a jerk. Or: Related Resolution: Find a man who's not AS MUCH OF a jerk as the last. Or Related Resolution: Find a decent vibrator.

Well, now that I'm proud to report I've not only found a great man but he can also confidently co-exist in the same house with certain said paraphernelia, I'm in a resolution kind of mood.

1. Lose five pounds. Damn you,! You just won't back off. You keep sending me emails that the wedding is less than two months away (BTW- I know that!) and that I'd better get. in. shape.  I can't help that during the holidays I gave into that extra piece of pie or that, er, third helping of mashed potatoes because I knew my big, bulky, Midwestern sweaters would hide the weight! Related Resolution: Simply stop eating meat and potatoes for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

2. Stop wearing sweatpants and bulky socks to bed. I preface this by saying that it's 15 degrees DURING THE DAY here. Don't even talk to me about the night. But, yes we have a heater and a humidifier. (I only just learned what the latter was). So, there's really no excuse for how incredibly unsexy I've been this winter (sorry honey!). So, in the words of Justin Timberlake, I vow to bring sexy back! (Or at the very least to lose the socks)!  Related Resolution: Stop canceling on my bi-weekly wax appointment!

3. Stop buying cute winter clothes. I can't help it. When it's cold as balls and you're face is red and your skin is dry, you at least want to dress in a cute outfit to try to offset all the winter-induced ugliness. This California girl used to happily live in a world where UGGS were worn only on nights that dipped below 60 degrees.  So once she discovered the many, many styles of cute boots and coats, it was ovuh.

4. Get over my burning desire to do the Macarana at my wedding. Matt's said it won't be funny. My mom threw her arms up in disgust. Even Liz gave me the eye.  So, I know I can't tell my DJ to play it now because it won't be any fun to do the dance by myself. But I refuse to give up Bel Biv Divoe, Rob Base or Shout! (Yeah, you read that right!) Related Resolution: Keep Liz from the DJ so she can't request Lady GaGa. Nothing ruins a buzz faster than her rendition of Paparazzi!

HAPPY NEW YEAR From Chick Lit is not Dead!  Now, tell us- what are your 2010 resolutions?


Liz & Lisa