"The Mother of All Relays"

 I would like to introduce you to one of Nike's most prized Hood to Coast Sponsorships...

The BowerMullet Athletic Club

(check back for team photo coming soon!)

Composed of 11 Nike employees and 1 Nike wife, we were a happening bunch of distance running enthusiasts. In just shy of 27 hours we collectively ran 197 miles from the Timberline of Mount Hood, through the backwoods of logging country, all the way to the beach in Seaside, OR.

This swagger wagon was the home of the first batch of six sweaty runners.

We made many hundreds of road kills along the path to victory as we cruised by in mullets (some fake and some real) and Nike's finest running apparel. Functioning on fewer than 3 hours of sleep, cliff bars, 5 Hour Energy shots, and farm-fresh breakfast sandwiches from a kind family we met along the way, we each ran three legs totaling between 14 and 17 miles per person.

WOLVA-MULLET. I hope you can see the nasty beard on this guy. 

Aside from the claws, he fit right in with the x-men mutants.

We might be exhausted and sore, but let me be the first to say that I'm already looking forward to next year. Parker and I, being newcomers to the area and the Nike family, were late additions to the team. Next time around we'll be sure to put in more than two weeks of training... (ugh).

 This is a post-race shot... the shower I took an hour later was maybe the best of my life.

Parker made a very astute comparison regarding some other interesting team names. 

Hood to Coast is to Oregon what Halloween is to Provo: an excuse to be creatively and wildly inappropriate. Like BYU girls wear lingerie and call it a costume, Oregonians decorate vans with mildly pornographic images and call it self-expression. 

To protect the minds of you innocent readers, I'm including a VERY watered-down sampling, however, I suggest you run in the future to view the full spectrum.

As I'm completing leg 16 on a dark stretch of Route 30 at 1:30 AM, I catch up to a guy from another team. Our conversation goes as follows.

-Hey, what team are you with?

-The BowerMullet Athletic Club, you?

-I'm a Sex Panther.

...and then he took off. 

When this van cruised by, they saw Parker's BYU sweatshirt and yelled, "We're all from BYU too! Go Cougs!" 

... I suppose they're just sporting the Cougar Blue in their own unique way?

Well, until next year we'll train with our team adages in mind...

Mullet Knows.

Remember the Mullet

and, of course

Just Mullet.

 

Branded, baby. 
(Don't worry Mom, they already washed off.)

My New Best Friend

Leslie, who listened to my sob story and sent a tow-truck instantly.

I'm now Oregon's newest AAA member.

Question: Wouldn't you think that if your car were to decide not to turn on while sitting on the service bay at a Maintenance Center, you'd be in good hands?

So did I, but apparently the only prerequisite for that job is knowing how to pour oil into the container under the hood labeled "OIL." 

Properly turning keys in the ignition is far beyond their realm of expertise.

Isn't it bad for business for other customers to see a car towed OUT of your service center?!

Well, Stephanie, the little gold Saturn had her first tow this morning after a pathetic, and preventable complication during a routine oil change.

Fortunately, thanks to Leslie, Steph is now safely at the Saturn Dealership.

She should be home with a new set of keys sometime next week.

But still. Grrr.

'Tis the Season

It felt like the weather pulled a complete 180 the moment the clock struck midnight on September 1st.

Fall is definitely here, but instead of crisp, cool air and changing leaves, it's forget-about-doing-your-hair, chill-you-to-the-bone humidity with intermittent downpours.

Welcome to Portland, the city of two seasons; there are two months of perfect summer and ten months of grey skies and rain. Goodbye sun. Bring on the eternal cloud layer.

(At least I got a free pair of kicks for doing some product testing today.)
I suppose I can live with daily monsoons as long as I have sleek new Trainer 1's in my gym bag.

I couldn't even feel the rain as I left the Bo, dripping sweat, on legs that barely functioned after an hour of SPARQ drills. 
I worked hard for these babies. Totally worth it.

Like a Lamb to the...

...Shearing!

 

 From "you may have seen me on a WANTED poster"....

...to this clean cut stranger!

The last time his hair was this short he was wearing a Ninja Turtles fanny pack, huge plastic-rimmed glasses, and an oversized t-shirt tucked into neon orange gym shorts on his first day of second grade.

Fortunately, he's corrected those childhood fashion faux pas

and is even better looking than he was the day I married him. 

Confessions of a Newlywed Housewife

Eight short months of marriage have taught me one absolute truth about myself and my culinary skill...

I cannot bake.

Can I cook? Absolutely. No matter the number of ingredients, no recipe is too daunting. Meals I've made have elicited responses anywhere from "fine" to "scrumptous, let's eat this every night, I can't get enough" from my tried and true taste-tester, Mr. Parker Mangum. It shouldn't be a big surprise; I'm Italian! Cooking runs in my veins. I spent my childhood in the kitchen.

When it comes to making treats, however, I apparently need to stick to packaged brownie mixes and Oreos. Baking is messy, frustrating, and always ends up being an irritating and belittling lesson in patience. Let's be serious people, what difference does 1/4 of a teaspoon or 1/2 teaspoon REALLY make? 

Does this make me a failure as a wife? Quite possibly. I've even ruined Jell-O. JELL-O! Sadly, the list doesn't end there. Guess who can't make a right-off-the-back-of-the-bag chocolate chip cookie recipe? Let me introduce myself... The world's worst chocolate chip cookie baker.

Here's the most recent proof:

You're thinking, "Wow, how can you possibly ruin something so simple?"

I KNOW. Yet each batch was somehow exponentially worse than the one before.

Mom, maybe someday I'll live up to the confectioner's side of our Italian heritage...

But, please, don't hold your breath.

The Curt Schilling of Church Basketball

Game 6 ALCS 2004: Red Sox v. Yankees

Despite recent ankle tendon stabilization surgery, Curt Schilling stayed in the game while blood oozed through his sutures. He led the Red Sox to a win, forced a Game 7, and took the team to the World Series. Way to take one for the team.

Church Basketball August 3, 2010

Parker Mangum refused to leave a heated church basketball game this past Tuesday evening though he developed and ruptured multiple large blisters on both feet. 

After pulling out the victory and hobbling up four flights of stairs to our apartment, he collapsed.

Due to the hour (as it was nearing midnight), I had limited supplies available to me, thus his triage bandages were not my most impressive construction.

Over the last few days, his prognosis has certainly improved. Fortunately, he has a medically inclined wife to wash and wrap his feet and a job that requires he wear comfortable athletic shoes to work. He is expected to make a full recovery!

A little bit o' summah time!

23 years on this earth has taught me that summer can be defined as 3 months of sun and various vacations to enjoy. Well... someone left out an important detail at my College Commencement; work doesn't pause for the sun's reappearance after far too much snow.

I miss swimming in the lake. I miss spontaneous trips. I miss leisurely reading while sunning by the pool. I miss being tan.

But, despite a summer full of 40+ hour work weeks, we've still tried to throw a little fun into our swiftly dwindling summer days of 2010...

 I experienced my very first at-home-fireworks show at the annual Peay/Mangum July 4th gathering in Boise! 

I will admit... I was slightly terrified at the thought of holding a large burning explosive device.

Parker wowed the crowd with his dance to the "strobe" firework. 

(Note: The town firestation is pictured in the right-hand side of this photo. That provided some reassurance.)

A reunion with the Bournes! Mike, we're very happy that you're in med school, however, we're not thrilled that it's located on the exact opposite end of the country from where we are. Already looking forward to the next reunion, Christmas in Idaho!