Tag Archives: carbs

Run, Paula, Run!: Part II


So, last week I signed up to run a 10 mile race.

Yes. On purpose.

I’m not quite sure what inspired me to do this, because if you’ve read some of my very early blog posts (Which I’m sure you haven’t, because Paula In The Country was not the worldwide sensation then that it is today. Shut up. Just go with it.), you’ll find that I did this exact same race last year, and didn’t find it particularly enjoyable then. I haven’t miraculously begun to love running since. Trust me on that. Granted, I’ve gotten slightly better at it, and am now at least able to run a 5K without having what I’m pretty sure is a very mild heart attack only curable by bagel, Big Gulp, or cupcake. But still. In sunny 45 – 70 degree weather, a nice 3 mile run can actually be quite refreshing. Once a month or so. With some walking breaks in the middle. Actually, it’d be ideal if I could get a little running monkey to follow behind me with snacks and stuff, too. Maybe some Triscuits. They’re good carbs, right? They have fiber. Would I be required to clean up after the monkey if it pooped on a nature trail, you think? It’s not like Triscuit monkey can wear a diaper or anything. That’d just look silly. Anyway… I got way off on a tangent there. That happens when I start talking about snacks and monkeys.

So, you may be asking yourselves, “Paula In The Country, why did you sign up to do such a stupid thing if you hate running?”. Well, smartass, I’ll tell you. Uhhhhh…

Shit, I can’t remember now.

Wait! I remember!

It’s because for a brief moment, upon completing that 10 miles, after I’ve gotten past my extremely angry “I’m never doing this bullshit ever again!” moment as I’m drooling on myself and trying not to pass out immediately following the race, there’s a different feeling… One of “Holy shit. I just ran 10 miles. 10. Fucking. Miles! I’m a Goddamn badass!”. Yeah, I know there are a lot of half-marathon and marathon runners out there who would scoff at my measly 10 miles, but for a girl like me, who graduated high school at well over 200 pounds, rarely exercised until my mid-20’s, and has never, EVER been athletic in the least, unless you count ping-pong or marathon White Castle slider-eating, 10 miles actually is a pretty badass thing. So that moment- That, “I’m proud of me.” moment makes all of the struggling through training, getting up at 4:30am to run 5 miles on a Wednesday before work, two months of sore calves, and smelly, sweaty feet, completely worth it. As lame as that sounds. Plus, there are Mimosas and chocolate malts afterwards. That helps, too. I refuse, however, to ever say, “You go, girl!” to myself. Not out loud, anyway. Maybe, like, in my car on the way home while listening to Kelly Clarkson or something. There may be three snaps in a Z form as well.

Until then, wish me luck in getting through the next couple months of running hell without the aid of a Triscuit-toting running monkey. It could get rough.


Posted by on March 12, 2014 in Humor


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The Day The Keebler Elves Died (Or Something Like That)


Today was a very traumatic day in the life of Paula In The Country. It’s a little difficult for me to talk about, but if you’ll allow me to collect myself for a  minute, I’ll try…

Aaaand… Done. Thank you.

Anyway… Today, at approximately 10:20am, I… Turned. Down. Cookies. That’s right. Cookies. FREE cookies, even. Now, some of you may be thinking to yourselves, “I turn down cookies all the time, what’s the big deal?”. Well, you people are not Paula In The Country. So zip it, you skinny bastards. Sorry I was combative there. Not really. It’s the lack of cookies. It’s making me cranky. Anyway, like I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted by skinny bastards… This does not happen to me. I always want cookies ALWAYS. If there were a Carbs Anonymous, I’d have to go at the frequency with which I go to church, at least. Actually, way more than that, since I never go to church unless there are free snacks promised. Which doesn’t happen as often as it should, frankly. I’d probably sneak in a few miniature Kit Kats or something to the Carbs Anonymous meeting, too. Also free crackers I stole from the salad bar I went to yesterday, because if I have to sit through an entire hour-long meeting, I at least need a salty snack AND dessert. I’m just sayin’. Anyhoo… I’m the girl who brings 2 grocery bags full of snacks for a  5 hour road trip, because apparently I have a deep-seated fear of my 2013 Nissan Versa breaking down in the harsh jungle of I-80 in Indiana, with rest stops and Subways approximately every 3 miles, and starving to death while trying to reach the nearest $5 footlong. I bring Tupperware to weddings so I can steal unattended dinner rolls and cake while everyone’s teary-eyed and distracted by the daddy-daughter dance. Don’t judge me. So this… This just doesn’t happen to me. So if anyone needs me, I’ll be off reevaluating my entire life, and my commitment to desserts.

I’m sorry, Keebler Elves. Please don’t do anything rash. Let me work through this. Keep on Elving… Or whatever you do in those trees.



Posted by on December 23, 2013 in Humor


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