I Stay Cozy


I should be clear. I stay the “43-year old single woman with cats” definition of cozy. Not the “young, current, stylish person” definition of cozy. Which is apparently what the new definition is. Stylish. I definitely don’t stay stylish. I stay cozy. Real cozy.

I’ll explain.

I spent the morning with my Mountain Junkies running on real for real actual trails with real for real actual mountainy hills. It was glorious.

And cold.

Unreasonably cold. As it always is when you run with Mountain Junkies.

And when I run with my Mountain Junkies I get my choice really cool socks that I had to show up early to pick out myself, because dude that picked up my race packet for me Thursday and race director Gina together couldn’t make that simple decision.


Psht. Skull and crossbones, obvi.

I’m gifted thermometers (by two different people) because my friends want me to always know the difference between a fever and a hot flash. (Plus, they were really judgey about the fact that I’m 43 and do not own a thermometer. Except that I DO own a thermometer. It’s just one that I bought for the specific purpose of monitoring a pregnant foster dog’s temperature, so obviously I can’t ever use that thermometer again. And now I’m worried that if I take these out of the boxes, I’ll mix these two new thermometers up with the old pregnant dog butt thermometer. So, now I can’t ever use them, either. So, really my friends just wasted their money being smartasses and no one is even gaining anything from it.)

But the very best part is that, with my Mountain Junkies, I can totally just show up in my pjs and hang out like that. And no one cares. Seriously. No one. You know why? Because at least 30 other people also showed up in their pjs. Because we value comfort over class.



Photo Credit: Lori Joseph


Ya girl was cozy, though!

So, tonight I’ll finish up some grading, prep my coffee, and head to bed early because my mountains have set a 1:00am wake up call for me. We’ve got some Blue Ridge training miles to get in before our Polar Plunge. (Or maybe I just won’t go to bed. That actually seems like the better choice. I’m really good about making good choices.)

Oh yes. That’s happening tomorrow. In this:



(Photo Credits: My dad – who took great pleasure in sending me a video of the leaf covered death lake.)


If you don’t know me, what I see when I look at that is a lake full of nope. I envision jumping off of the dock into the water and being sucked down to the earth’s core by the weight of the leaves. (I know. Physics probably doesn’t work that way. But I never took physics and you don’t know. This could be the way I go.)

So, if you want to see it happen, there’s still time to donate by clicking here.

For those that already have, if I make it back from the earth’s core alive, I will send you the link to the video. If not, you’ll have to ask Kim for it. I feel like she’s more likely to survive this.

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