Downward dog.

For the past month or so, Carrie and I have been working Yoga into our exercise regimine in an attempt to offset all of the running we've been doing. It's been a great way to keep us stretched out and refreshed for our long runs on the weekends, the only problem is that we've had a difficult time falling into a regular routine. Each week our days of running and cross training have been different, meaning we've had to jump around from class to class. This week was no exception. The only break between my training runs and weight workouts came last night and there was only one Yoga class on the schedule, a class titled "Power Yoga," which was down for an hour and 15 minutes. While this raised a couple of red flags for Carrie, I on the other hand, was undaunted.

Having arrived at our Yoga studio (the multipurpose room at the Y), I immediately started scoping out the competition (I know, I know, Yoga is "non-competitive" … what the hell ever, you obviously don't know me). Anyway, the first thing that jumped out at me was the fact that these didn't appear to be casual Yoga enthusiasts. Each one came with their own accrutements—professional Yoga mats, blocks, you name it. The next thing I noticed was that a woman, who appeared to be the instructor, was questioning a new member of the class on her Yoga prowess and telling her things like "listen to your body." All this while a guy with one of the most impressive comb-overs I have ever seen meticulously tightened his flesh-colored wrist braces.

Not a good sign.

A few minutes later, the instructor came to the back of the room where Carrie and I had placed our borrowed YMCA fungus mats and interrogated us a bit on our Yoga background, to which we feigned confidence in our overall pretzel-making abilities enough that she let us be.

And just like that, class was underway.

For the most part it wasn't too bad. In fact, I'll come right out and say I was pretty proud of how well we did—despite the fact that the combination of my profuse sweat and the slip 'n slide I was using as a mat made me just about do a face plant every 30 seconds. Sure, there were times our knees quivered and yes, Carrie started watching the clock 15 minutes into the class, but we hung in there, got a good workout and got to see our bodies from entirely new (not necessarily pleasing) perspectives.

Me and Mrs. C

This past Saturday was a big day for us. It ended with the birth of our niece Hagen, and it started with breakfast with everyone's favorite mom. We were at First Watch in Kansas City, and about 20 minutes into breakfast we noticed Marion Ross (aka Marion Cunningham, or Mrs. C, from "Happy Days") was sitting at a table about 15 feet away. Like most annoying, star-struck fans, we all looked at her at the same time. And she noticed. To my surprise, she waved, and then she walked over to our table to introduce herself as Sponge Bob's grandmother to my niece, Kailey (who had no idea who this stranger was or why she was claiming herself as part of Sponge Bob's family - after all, she wasn't wearing square pants or lived in the sea). But Marion was very friendly and complimentary of Kailey's looks. (I'm pretty sure she was drawn to her red hair.) I can't remember the rest of the conversation, but Marion eventually went back to her table and I was kicking myself that I didn't get a photo with her. This blog post would be much more boring without it. So I did what anyone would do for their blog readers, I went back to her table and asked for a photo. So here's Mrs. C and me. Would you believe she turns 80 this October?

Welcome Hagen Elise Lindeman!

I got a call from Curt at 9:30 tonight announcing that, after an extremely short labor (Cheryl arrived at the hospital at 8:30), our niece Hagen Elise came into our world. Words cannot express how happy and excited Carrie and I are. We haven't had a chance to see her yet, but we wanted to get a post up on Hagen's birthday rather than wait for a photo. Until then, we're anxiously planning our trip down to Houston to officially meet her.

Happy birthday Hagen, we love you.

sew and tell: aprons

My friend Sandra has this rule that when she bakes up a sweet treat and gives it to you in tupperware, you can't return the tupperware empty. Great rule, but whatever you do, it's going to be impossible to match her creativity or thoughtfulness. Especially when it was these pupcakes. So I've been hanging on to this tupperware for a while, waiting for inspiration. And finally, it hit me: make her an apron since she loves to bake. Easier said than done. It couldn't be just any apron. One of Sandra's favorite things is cupcakes, so I had to find fabric with a cool cupcake design. Three stores and two states later, I found it. I used the cupcake pattern for the pocket, waistband and ties, and a corresponding blue print for the skirt. The icing on the cake - or cupcake - was the pink pom-pom fringe for an accent.



On my quest for this fabric, I came across another print that screamed out my friend Lathi's name. So here's the second apron - slightly different variation on the pocket and lime green fringe for fun.



I originally thought these aprons would be fairly simple to pull together. I was wrong. They took me completely out of my comfort zone and I realized it too late to back out. I needed that. I now know how to use the gathering foot and the zipper foot. Now I just need to face my biggest fear: the zipper.

The best part about completing these came about 30 minutes after I gave them to the girls. We had girl's night on Tuesday, and after dinner and drinks, we spent some time at Barnes and Noble where Lathi and Sandra wore their aprons around the store. I think they liked the aprons, or maybe it was just the margarita.

There's not enough chlorine in the world.

Monday night, against our better judgement and solely because we love our dogs more than life itself, we took the whole family out to the Kansas Humane Society's "Dog Days of Summer" at College Hill Pool. It's an annual fundraiser where, for a $10 donation, you can let your dog bring out their inner Phelps right before they drain the pool (and trust me, after you let a couple of hundred dogs use a pool as their own personal, toilet/water bowl/Turkish Bath, draining the water is pretty much your only option).

This is the second time we've attended and it is pure joyous mayhem. It's like Las Vegas for dogs—total sensory overload.

Zoe and Luka approach the event in much the same way they live their lives. While Zoe is completely oblivious to the presence of other dogs and remains completely fixated on her toy, Luka is in full meet 'n greet mode, sniffin' butts while the sniffin's good. So our night was pretty much spent watching Zoe plow into the water crashing into dogs and spectators alike while frantically looking for where Luka has run off to (no need to look in the pool, he keeps his activities to the deck).

Here are a couple of photos documenting the evening (they're not great, but to say it was a difficult shooting situation is an understatement).


This one shows you just how opposite our dogs are, while Zoe is intensely waiting for Carrie to throw her bumper, Luka is investigating an interesting "urine-like" smell.


Here, Carrie is reacting to the fact that she apparently hit some other dog in the head with Zoe's bumper.

Side note: while I'm convinced this incident was purely an accident, Carrie has been known to get some sort of evil delight from targeting unsuspecting owners with the wrath of Zoe's wake. Look a little too dry? Carrie's aiming for you. Wear an obnoxious shirt? Watch out. Look at her the wrong way? Prepare for a soakin'.


Ok, for some dumb reason I thought it would be fun to enter Zoe in the long jump competition. She's an incredible athlete, and I just wanted to show off a bit. However, I forgot that she tends to not follow the rules. Here you see Zoe taking a "victory lap" after her first of two jumps. The girl likes the spotlight. By the way, Carrie took the picture—wisely deciding to stay far enough a way as to not claim us (I'm somewhere running along the side of the pool trying to get Zoe to hop out so that they could continue on with the competition).


This is a post-competition shot. I was proud that she was by far the best female, she just wanted to get back in.


And, finally, here we are at the end of the evening. Notice the mad dash of people behind Carrie, I think that had something to do with us.

Earning the Gold in Olympics watching

We haven't had a whole lot to contribute here lately because honestly, we've been spending almost all of our free time sitting in front of the TV and soaking up as much of the Olympics as possible. That includes the full 2.5 hours of the women's marathon on Saturday. Those abs. Those times. Those outfits. What was the one woman thinking wearing the knee-length tank top?

But seriously, we promise to have more to share soon. Some upcoming highlights include:
- Zoe and Luka go swimming for charity
- Craig racks up the miles in preparation for the Wichita half-marathon
- Carrie completes another sewing project and takes on another house project

Carrie

Back on track

Just as we've been bad about not blogging for a week or two, I've also taken a break from long-distance running since January - ever since I ran the 5k in Houston at my record time. No, my time wasn't so good that I needed 7 months to recover, I just haven't been inspired. But all this is turning around.

We promise to blog more (if you promise to comment), and I've hit the pavement three weekends in a row for runs worthy of a couple water stops. The best run of all was this past Sunday. It rained the entire run - just light enough that I couldn't tell I was sweating - and it had rained more than 24 hours the day before. My shoes here are proof. When I tried to dodge the big puddles on the sidewalk, I ended up in the swampy grass. It was awesome. And even though I'm not yet to the 10 miles Craig barely broke a sweat over this weekend, there's nothing like having mud covering your shoes and splattered up on your legs to make you feel like a runner.

Carrie

I have reached a new low.

I'm now officially jealous of a 10 year-old.

This morning I came across a video of this kid playing "With or Without You" and I'm dumbfounded. There's probably about 20 videos of him on YouTube playing various songs better than the original artists did.

Here's his version of "No Woman No Cry."

I myself AM going to go and cry.