Spring THIS.

Middle Fingers in the Air

Vernal Equinox MY ASS.

I’m looking out my window this very second. And guess what? IT’S SNOWING.

{Throws self on floor. Screams like banshee.}

Yup. Snowing. And sticking. Oh, I can’t wait for the commute home. It will be Shit Show Commute #28 of the season.


I’m losing it. I know I’m not the only one who will be shoveling 5 inches of snow tonight. I know I’m not the only one who will be strapping on my Yak Trax, throwing on my stinking mittens, and heading out in the snow for a run- whenever the hell time I get home. I know this is a total whiny, cry baby, #firstworldproblems quick post, but for the love of Spring, GIVE A RUNNER A BREAK. All I want to do is RUN. Without falling. Preferably in shorts. My legs look like something from a V.C Andrews novel. (Note: I would have zero trouble being cast as the daughter in a ‘Flower’s in the Attic’ remake. I am ghastly.)

It’s all making me miserable. And I’m just at the point where I’m ready, and I mean really ready to kick up my training. I am pumped for the year ahead. Yes, I know it’s March. But honestly, the first 3 months of 2015 were a wash. My 2015 started a few weeks ago. Truth. I am finally planning my racing schedule now that I’m “In the Clear.”  I am also in the process of sorting out my eating, sleeping, and training as well. BIG CHANGES UP IN HERE!  It’s going to be a whole “Colby Reboot” of sorts. (Stay tuned. It will be colorful, I am sure. :-) ) For now? I just want some damn snow free pavement. Some beautiful trails. Some trees with buds on them. Maybe some grass? Hell. It doesn’t even have to be green.


In the meantime, take a look at this RIDICULOUS nonsense from The Onion. It made me giggle. Then I looked out the window, and wept.

What’s the weather like where you are right this minute? Have you ever stomped around like a petulant child when the weather didn’t go your way? Whatcha got on tap this weekend?

Sleepus Interruptus.

Here’s how last night went:Sleepy Time

2:01 am: Evil Beagle, the tricolored furnace, has wedged herself between me and My Other Half. I’m on the leg side. She is rigid, paws digging into my collar bones. We are eye to eye. She is snoring as if she is a morbidly obese drunk man with sleep apnea. She weighs 23 lbs. I shove her. She rolls over, entangled in my duvet. She’s a Beagle-rito. I have zero covers. I am freezing.

3:17 am: Evil Beagle and her deviated septum are by our feet. My Other Half is in the throes of a bad dream. In it, he is Manny Pacquiao. And this is a Title Fight. He is punching me and talking in tongues. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! I swear at him loudly. Punch back. He mutters he loves me, and blows an air kiss. He rolls over, still sleeping soundly. I have zero covers. I am freezing.

4:32 am:  The Good Dog is up. He is ticky-tacking all over the hard wood floor. I debate clipping his nails at that very moment. I don’t know where the clipper is. He sighs loudly. Life is so tough. He flops back down onto his million dollar tempur-pedic dog bed, and begins to give his undercarriage a bit of a wash. I am in hell. Only I can’t be, because I am freezing.

5:53 am. “Wake-up” to some sort of critter running fartleks. WHAT THE HELL? Is it on the roof? Is in the wall? Did baby critters just hatch? I’m freaking out. The Good Dog growls, runs down the hall way. It’s outside. I’m on the front lawn in my jammies wrapped in a leopard blanket looking at a squirrel about to pull a Flying Wallenda onto the feeder. Is there a hidden camera somewhere? AM I BEING PUNKED?!  Good Dog barks wildly then proceeds to pee on the tree which houses the feeder. You know, for good measure. It does the trick. Squirrel aborts mission. Peace has been restored.

5:59 am. I’m up. And have been. I pour myself a gallon of coffee and pad off into the shower, bleary eyed.

Amount of sleep:  Next to nil.

This has been the story of my life lately.  And guess what? It’s catching up with me. I am a haggard zombie. Even my skin looks tired. I have zero energy and my runs have been feeling it too. They’re “Meh” at best with dead tired legs.  If my legs had eyes, there would be two X’s in place of eyeballs. They’re tuckered.  I have had a negligible amount of sleep for MONTHS. First, it was because of stress, which I am happy to report ended with a big ol’ bouquet of good news. (Relive the joy, here.) And now? Other than last night’s MMA fight circus? It still isn’t back to normal. It’s not for lack of trying either.

I have tried to get my sleep back on track with some minor success. I popped melatonin, drank chamomile tea, cut back on caffeine, and took warm Epsom salt baths with lavender before bed time, all in a bid for Sweet Dreams. Despite the best of intentions, The Sand Man Lost.  Never being one to have sleep issues, I had naively assumed this disruption was transient. When stress went away, sleep would snuggle back in.  Oh no, Poodle.  That hasn’t been the story. Christ. I even bought a new mattress which is RIDICULOUSLY comfortable. I just need to get Princess Evil Beagle her own jazzy bed so she keeps her ass off of ours.

I’m just off.  I’m hoping the change of season- longer days, natural sunlight and temps above freezing- all help. I’m also going to take a good hard look at my sleep, diet, training, health- the whole shebang. Something isn’t right. From sleep on down. I feel like I never recovered well from the Ultra I ran SIX DAMN MONTHS AGO. That’s just pathetic. I’m just kind of broken. And I need a fix. STAT.

Do you feel like a Sleepy Slug lately? How many hours of sleep do you get per night? Has your bunk mate ever punched you in their sleep? Sheesh.  

3 Deadly Running Sins

dead-last If a Running Fairy came down off her podium in glittery running shoes, and told you that you MUST choose between Not Starting, Not Finishing or Coming in Dead Effen Last in your next race, what would you chose? What is the lesser of the 3 Deadly Running Sins? Welp. I was granted a wish that I didn’t even ask for, and am still recovering from. That damn Running Fairy granted me a Did Not Start. And a touch of what I can only believe was ameobic dystnetery. Or food poisioning. Or cholera for that matter. Whhhhhyyyyyy?!nancy kerrigan

It sucked.

For the first time in my running history, I Did Not Start. Not because I didn’t register. Not because I wasn’t trained and ready. Not because I was sucked into a House of Cards Netflix Binge and couldn’t get my can off of the couch, I didn’t start because I woke up with an epic stomach bug the morning of the race. A half marathon on snow shoes was NOT happening. Chills. Watery mouth. Sweats. Pains. And two other issues not fit for print.


Even though I willed myself to get over it, strap on my snowshoes and run the half marathon I had trained for, I just couldn’t. Hard. Stop.  Maybe if I hooked up an IV and dragged a porta potty behind me? Screw it. It just wasn’t happening. And my body knew it. What a disappointment. I actually dragged my green self to the race to cheer on my friends, hoping that by the time we got there, I would have rallied. {Uh. No.}  Instead, I froze to death sipping water by a bonfire, while they snow shoed their hearts out. AND IT KILLED ME. I had a one way ticket to Bummerville. {Sad Colby.}

All scenarios are pretty dismal. Although I am trying to discern which is the worst:

  •  Dead Effen Last laments: Oh, Honey. At least you tried. Here’s a medal, an ice bath and a hug.
  • Did Not Finish barks: There better be bloodshed, or a major catastrophic physical event, YOU WEAKLING! SYSTEM FAILURE! SYSTEM FAILURE! ABORT! ABORT! {With flashing lights, a stretcher and a hot ER doctor.}
  • Did Not Start gently whispers : Shit, Girl. It just wasn’t your day. Here’s a pint of Chubby Hubby for when you can keep it down. Now go take those snow shoes off, sit your dehydrated self on the couch, and quietly weep.

They’re all bad. They’re all a runner’s nightmare. Sometimes it just doesn’t go your way. No matter how prepared. No matter how excited. No matter how ready. Pull your Achilles during an ultra (here), and DAMMIT, YOU WILL FINISH.  Even if you have to crawl. Have an allergic reaction the night before your marathon (here), wake up looking like a pufferfish and DAMMIT, YOU ARE RUNNING.  Wake up with a VIOLENT stomach bug before running a half marathon up a mountain on snow shoes and DAMMIT, GAME OVER. One bad stomach bug can ruin your day. And piss you the hell off.

Next time I’m packing a white flag to wave, just in case.

DNF, DNS or DFL? What’s the worst Race Day story you’ve got?

She Believed She Could, So She Did


Like many in the Northeast training for a spring marathon, I’m waving the white flag.

Snow. Ice. Freezing temps. Nonexistent pavement. School cancellations. More snow. More ice. Less pavement. More cancellations. They have all made training really, really difficult.

I have had the added benefit of running a mini-hospital for the past few weeks. (Poorly, I might add. I’m no nurse. But I have Lysol’ed everything in this GD house that doesn’t have a beating heart and gotten used to delivering meals on trays.) We went to Mt. Tremblant for our February vacation a few weeks ago. I highly recommend it to anyone who is healthy.

My youngest got a fever of 103 the first night we were there and then we all fell like dominos. I spent a week with fever and chills in a lovely condo with a stunning view. As did the rest of my family. We cut the trip short when my two boys started coughing like lifelong smokers (they’re not) and headed home for antibiotics.

In the 2 weeks since we returned, we have had TWO DAYS where no one in the house was sick. They were just finishing up their antibiotics when someone brought home the stomach bug going around school. The past week has involved a lot of laundry.

I can’t even put down in writing how lame my training for Boston has been because I will have a panic attack on the spot. ON THE SPOT. I almost feel like I need to write a letter of apology to the BAA for not taking their race seriously enough. But I have! I swear I have been doing my best, but this winter has been tough. Weather, kids’ sports schedules, illness and the short days have not been kind to my training. See, I’m already writing my letter.

Illness and snow this week made my midweek runs shorter than I had hoped. I had plans to run 20 on Sunday to gain a bit of confidence, if nothing else. And then I was grazed by the stomach bug on Friday-Saturday. And then I spent most of Saturday night awake with a vomiting child. Watching Nick at Nite during the wee hours holding a bucket is not how I usually prepare for a long run.

I woke up at 6:15 on Sunday (which I quickly realized was 7:15 thanks to the F&*%*&% time change) and decided just to go for it. It would be slow. It would not be my finest long run. But I believed I could make it through.

Got dressed, ate, put on my Garmin and it crapped out on me. Fully charged. I have long suspected that my Garmin hates me and now I’m convinced.

Now it became a quest. I thought I knew a route that should end up being around 20 miles, and rather than screw around trying to fix my Garmin, I decided just to go.

I’m so glad I did.

The first mile was a little shaky. I still didn’t feel 100%. But I kept “I can do this” at the front of my mind and tried to push all the other stuff to the way back.

Around 2 miles in, I relaxed. I literally felt the tension leave my body. What was I stressed about? I love running. When I’m sad or tense, it makes me feel better. When I’m happy, it makes me happier. Getting ready, I was thinking of it like a chore. It’s not. While every second might not be easy or comfortable, I LOVE running. It’s what I do.

The roads were still pretty snowy and icy but the air – the air is changing! Spring is coming – I can smell it and feel it. The temps were really comfortable and it was nice to run with less layers. I felt so light. So happy to be outside.

And I did my 20. Slow, but steady. Got home and mapped it, and it was 20.25. Right on the button of what I wanted to do. Was it my fastest run? No way. Was it my strongest run? No. But I did it. And I felt pretty freaking happy about it afterward.

I believed I could, so I did.

It’s the same mantra that carried me the last 6 miles of Philly, and hopefully will carry me through whatever Boston throws my way. I believe I can, so I will.

Do you ever dread a long run only to start it and wonder what the hell you were stressing about? Anyone else tackle anything they’re pretty proud of lately? C’mon, Brag to us. You know you want to.

Decisions, Decisions.

On Tuesday, Colby and I officially found out that we did not get into the NYC marathon through the lottery.

This is my fourth time losing out in the lottery. I have a sneaking suspicion that someone at NYRR knows about all my Red Sox gear. I’m taking it personally.

So, we have spent the past few days (along with our BRF, Diva Cindi) trying to figure out where we are running this fall. Decisions, decisions. Here’s what we have considered. Open to suggestions, comments, recommendations. Our criteria: we would prefer not to have to fly. We don’t like the heat. Doesn’t have to be a major marathon, but we don’t want to go too small. Would like something well run and either local or a place we’d have fun visiting.

1. Chicago Marathon. October 11, 2015. Lottery opens March 10 and closes April 21. Entries announced April 28. I would love to run this race. I want to run this race someday – I just don’t know if this is the year. I have a busy fall ahead and don’t think it is the year for me to fly to a race. Colby feels the same way. I’m wavering on whether to throw my name into the lottery. Fortunately, I have time.

2. Marine Corps Marathon. October 25, 2015. Lottery opens March 13 and closes March 23. I think entries are announced shortly after the lottery closes. Both Colby and I have run this race. We LOVE this race. I cannot recommend it highly enough. We could drive to this one and tear up DC. Lots of positives. The main negative is that we have already run it. I don’t think I’m going to be someone who runs 50 marathons. Do I want to repeat one? Not sure.

3. Baystate Marathon. October 18, 2015. No lottery – you can just register. Registration opened March 1. This one is looking like a strong contender. It is fast and flat. Timing is good. It is in MA, so logistics of getting there are easy. We can head into Beantown for cocktails afterward and I can see my family. Negatives? I guess the main negative is location of the course and the size. We have only run bigger marathons in big cities. Will the support be good? Energy be what we want? I have heard really good things about this race, though, so I suspect the answer to both questions is yes. If anyone has run this, please chime in.

4. Newport Marathon. October 11, 2015. Registration is open – no lottery. Timing and location are good. Should be puuuurty. I have heard glowing reviews of the half marathon, but mixed reviews for the full. It seems like the half might be the bigger race than the full here, and race support could wane as the day goes on. Not sure I want to spend the last 5 miles arm-wrestling for the last cup of water at the stations. Hmmmm. Again – anyone run this? Please give us your thoughts.

Decisions, decisions. But it has been a good distraction from the fact that the Boston Marathon is in 46 days and I am not running enough. Yes, it is snowing and icing. Again. Yes, my kids are home from school. Again. Yes, I will be taking my workout indoors today. Again. Aaargh!  

What has been your favorite fall marathon? Thoughts on the above? Any suggestions for races we may not have thought of? Where the hell should we run this fall????

Riding the wave. And Running for Another. 

There’s been a huge wave of Good News up in these parts the past week or so. I feel like I’m surfing an ideal point break. And it feels pretty fantastic. Not for nothing, it’s about time. I was starting to feel like that little depressed pill from the Zoloft commercials. And that’s just not me. Two awesome things happened last week: 

  1. I received The Best News Ever. And was promptly overwhelmed by all of your warm thoughts and well wishes. Thank You. Thank You. Thank You. It moved me to tears. The outpouring of support made my heart overflow. That’s the truth.  XOXO. 
  2. I found out I was named a Janji Corps Ambassador! WOOT! WOOT! 

A while back I blogged about Janjia socially conscious running clothing company that gives back by providing clean water in countries around the world. I discovered them after returning from a life changing trip to Kenya. Gotta admit. I became sort of obsessed with the company. How could I not? Go to Kenya and you’ll see first hand how horrible the water situation is. There is a water crisis in Kenya. I was so struck by that. To discover a company that dovetails what I love to do with helping others, was such a perfect find. I wanted to be a part of it. Sadly, Kenya is just one country with a water crisis. There are many, many more.

I ran full Janji today!

 Janji means “promise” in Malay. Run Janji and promise to Run for Another. I love it. Love everything about it. I am honored to be a part of this AMAZING group of Ambassadors. All runners, all committed to this cause. I’m totally impressed.  I’m even more excited to see the SPRING collection which drops this week. I had a sneak peak and it looks awesome- great bright colors and cool designs! That is, if I even remember what Spring is.  Or shirts. Or t-shirts. Or the sun for that matter…

Are you, like Tina and I, OVER winter? What’s the coldest temperature you’ve run in this winter? Rain or Snow- which would you rather run in? 

And then I exhaled.

FlakeYesterday I received a long awaited phone call. It came in the early, bitter cold morning. It stopped me dead in my tracks. I had been waiting for this phone call for 3 long months. And here it was. I began to shake uncontrollably. My Doctor. My Results. I held my breath. I paused and planted my feet firmly on the earth. Grounded.

Nicole. You’re all clear.

I sobbed. And sobbed. And felt the weight of a thousand worlds lift off of my shoulders. Years of stress. Months of worry. Gone. Just like that. In one split second. Such lightness, I felt. The Relief. My God! It overwhelmed me.  I thanked My Doctor for being My Champion. For not being complacent. For following up. For caring.

I do not have cervical cancer.
And I owe that to him.

I rarely get super personal here. So much so, that you probably didn’t know my real name. (It’s Nicole, by the way.) I run. I ride. I swear like a pirate. I am often silly. I am sometimes serious. All of that, you already know.  I had mentioned that I had had some surprise! surgery, but that was really it. I left it at that. In fact, I wasn’t sure I would ever mention it.  But here I am. Eternally grateful for an outcome I hadn’t counted on, but blissfully accept.

Here is what happened. It was an ellipsis on a very long life sentence. Everything snowballed the day after I ran my 50K. Horrible pap results. A procedure- a colposcopy. Even more horrible pathology results. Have a very surreal discussion about cervical cancer.  Cancer is right there, waiting patiently. Surgery- an aggressive cervical excision and cauterization.  And?  Horrible margins. Avalanche. Heal. Run a Spartan Sprint at Fenway Park. Worry. Run the Philadelphia Half Marathon. Worry more. Begin to accept the fact that I am quite possibly going to have a hysterectomy. I will have never have had children. Cry. Run more. Stress. Decide cancer is screwing with the wrong broad. Get angry. Run harder. And yesterday?  Relief. Utter relief.

My point in sharing all of this with you?

Go for you annual gynecological exam. Insist on a pap smear and HPV test. If it comes back abnormal?


If you are a man reading, insist that the women in your life do so. Cervical cancer is curable…if you catch it.  I am proof.

I slept like a log last night. For the first time in a long, long while. I finally felt like Nicole.

And I exhaled.


Spring Training

So…who else is training for a spring marathon?

I know you’re out there. You’re the ones with the frozen hair and eyelashes. Chapped skin. Blue Lips. White fingertips. Permanent chills. Crazy eyes from looking around to make sure no cars are careening toward you. Yup, I’d know you anywhere.

This is my first time training for a spring marathon. (Colby is an old pro.)

It ain’t easy.

And it’s not the cold. I like running in the cold. I sometimes even love running in the cold. And I’ve even made my peace with running in the polar vortex/arctic blast/whatever those fools are calling the crazy bitter freezing cold these days.

It’s the damn snow and ice. IT IS KILLING ME.

And I feel bad complaining, with most of my family and many friends up in Boston, where they have gotten 70+ inches of snow in the past month. No joke. Maybe you have seen the memes below measuring the snow in ”Gronk’ s” and “Big Papi’s.”

After the next snowstorm, Gronk may be buried completely. Or at least too buried to spike a snowball.
After the next snowstorm, Gronk may be buried completely. Or at least too buried to spike a snowball. Sorry for poor image quality – it was the best I could find. You get the gist.
This was taken after the first snowstorm, when we thought there was a lot of snow. So young and naïve! I'm pretty sure Papi would be buried now.
This was taken after the first snowstorm, when we thought there was a lot of snow. So young and naïve! I’m pretty sure Papi would be just about buried now.

At approximately 3 and 3.5 apples tall, respectively, Colby and I would be fully buried. BURIED!

People have started joking that the snow will probably still be there for the Boston Marathon. But no one is laughing.

While the snow here isn’t as bad as Boston, it is here. And we have had 2 separate ice storms in the past few weeks, which is 10 times worse than snow. How the hell do you get a long run in when the days are short, the sidewalks are buried, and the roads are icy and narrow? Ugh. Yaktrax are great for traction, but even they don’t help if there is nowhere to use them.

What’s a runner to do? Improvise and strategize, I guess. I have seen some people taking their runs indoors.

That, my friends, I just can’t do.

Or won’t do.

I hate saying can’t.

BUT, running long on the treadmill might push me over the edge into complete insanity, and I don’t want that. I’m hovering on the edge as it is.

I was supposed to run 18 tomorrow, but the forecasted combo of subzero temps, wind gusts and snow squalls made me revise my game plan. Instead, I got up and made a last-minute decision to run 18 on Wednesday, with the first 10 miles being laps on my dead-end road to avoid having to run in morning traffic. That’s 5 complete loops of my road before the traffic died down and I headed out into the big, wide world. And if I had to do all 10 loops on my road to get my 18 in, I would have. Despite the strange looks I got from neighbors.

One silver lining is that I ran the Philly marathon in November, so I never really fell out of “long run” mode. If I ever run a spring marathon again, I will be sure to sign up for a marathon the fall before so I can build a good running base before winter fully hits.

Already being used to longer distances has kept me from completely freaking out. Emphasis on “completely.” Because, rest assured, I am still kind of freaking out. Oh, yes, I am. And did I mention that more snow is on the way?

Are you training for a spring race? How are you getting your runs in (Floridians need not answer)? How deep is the snow by you (Floridians, don’t you dare answer!)???

Superbowl Musings

So, almost a week has passed since the Superbowl. Parades have been celebrated, Gronk appears to have clocked around 75 seconds of sleep, Memes have been multiplying like rabbits, endless discussion, rehashing, Monday/ Tuesday/ Wednesday/ Thursday/ Friday morning quarterbacking, has ensued.

And oh, yeah, my beloved Pats won. In a spectacularly Disney-like way, with an incredible pick in the endzone by an undrafted free agent and former Popeye’s employee. #truestory

I love football. I come from a big football-watching family. But let’s be honest. Isn’t football just a backdrop for the commercials and halftime show at the Superbowl? Let’s chat about the real important stuff, shall we?

Nationwide: Oh, Nationwide. What made you think that I wanted to watch dead children during the Superbowl? One minute, I’m happily sitting with a Shock Top in my left hand and Tortilla chips in my right. A mere 60 seconds later, I’m on the floor consoling my shell-shocked children and explaining to them all the precautions we have taken in our home to prevent those childhood accidents that could kill them. WTF? If I wanted to watch dead children talk on TV, I would put on “The Sixth Sense,” not the freaking Superbowl. And I’d make my kids leave the room. Way to kill the Superbowl buzz, Nationwide.


Although I will say that I thoroughly enjoyed all the parodies that followed. Almost made the therapy my kids now need worth it. Almost.

Budweiser: I don’t care that they manipulate my heartstrings ever year with something that is written for the sole purpose of making me cry or go, “Awwwwww.” I fall for it every time and actually look forward to it. Put those puppies and Clydesdales together in front of a frigging green screen and I’ll just cry at this point. It’s all good.

Shamelessly playing with my emotions. And I loved every second of it.
Shamelessly playing with my emotions. And I loved every second of it.

Toyota Camry: Didn’t really get the connection to the Camry, but loved watching Amy Purdy – World Class Paralympic Athlete – kick ass at, well, life, and I’m always happy to listen to Muhammad Ali do his thing, so I liked it. It would have been a perfect Warren Miller-like mini-movie if they just removed all the parts that had the Camry in it.


Always: Colby and I have always been fans of this commercial. Love that it was shown during the Superbowl. Love all the discussion it has prompted. And love that a Superbowl ad for feminine products was the one that probably received the most positive attention this year. My, have times changed since Superbowl I.

Special shout out to my 11-year old daughter, N, whose Instagram tagline reads “Playing Like a Girl Doesn’t Mean What it Used to.” Sometimes spying on your kids’ social media activity brings pleasant surprises. That’s our girl, Colby!!

Halftime Show: I am not a big Katy Perry fan, but she did put on a Really Big Show. Missy Elliott rocked (of course). But we all know the real star of the halftime show: The Left Shark. I love the Left Shark. I want to be The Left Shark when I grow up: Unafraid to do my thing, even if it is the wrong thing and in front of millions of people. Brave enough to express my own individuality even when trapped in a matching shark costume and with choreographed steps. A lot can be learned from The Left Shark. Left Shark embodies “Dance Like Nobody’s Watching.” Even if they are! Millions and millions of them!

If they ever publish The Tao of The Left Shark – and they should – I will be the first in line to buy it.

Did you watch the Superbowl? What was your favorite ad? What did you think of the halftime show? Do you love The Left Shark as much as I do??

The Big Reveal!

Skratch LabsReady for this?!?! A few months back I applied on a total whim to be a Taste Agent for Skratch Labs. I have been a fan of Skratch Labs for the past several years, having been introduced to it by my cyclist Other Half when it was known as “Secret Drink Mix” and came in cool silver tins. We felt so fly. Like we were in on some big badass super performance secret. {Note: We were.} We trained hard, sweated buckets, chugged what would become Skratch Labs Hydration Mix, and performed our hearts out.  As athlete demand increased, Skratch Labs, created by Dr. Allen Lim, was born in 2012. Voilà. Just like that. The secret was out. And now so is this one….Skratch Labs!

As of today, I’m a Skratch Labs Taste Agent for 2015!! 


So. Stoked. And after 2015? My guess is that I’ll be a Skratch Labs Lifer. Simply put, their products are excellent. And my endorsement of them, pre-dates Today’s Big News. It’s got all of what you need in a sports drink- real, natural ingredients, electrolytes, sodium- and nothing you don’t.

My personal draw?

  • It’s easy on the gut.
  • It’s super tasty.
  • It does it’s job. And does it well.

{Drops Mic.}

In exchange for mentioning their product here and on social media (which I’ve done before without the cool Taste Agent title), giving them product feedback, attending events and spreading the good word that is Skratch Labs, I will get their products at a discount. Which is great because I’m dangerously low on Hydration Mix. Phew!  I believed in what Skratch was doing before becoming affiliated with them. I feel like this is the continuation of a beautiful friendship, if you will. How could you not love the company with a promo video like this? Totally, my kind of company. :-)