The Best in the World


Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Childrearing, Children, Contest, Encouragement, Mothers and Daughters, Mothers and Sons, Sports | Posted on 19-08-2016

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I have been actively watching the Olympics each night. Actively, I say, because I yell on the sidelines sofalines. I cheer and yell loudly. My enthusiasm makes the swimmers stroke longer and the sprinters run faster.


They can. They do. And they win.

My eleven-year-old had a track meet this spring, where all fifth graders from all five elementary schools in our town gathered and competed. It’s a ritual that’s been going on for decades. They perform all of the traditional track and field events. Except pole vaulting. Oh, and the discus is a frisbee. But whatever.

But the sprints? Sheer speed. It’s a nail-biter to see who the fastest fifth grader is in town.

My son competed in the 75-meter sprint. The gun went off and he flew. I couldn’t contain my cheering: GO! YOU’VE GOT THIS!

He went. And he got it. A blue ribbon. And a huge smile.

He is the best in the my world.

When it comes to sports, do we love our children more when they win? Or do we love that our children are healthy? Or do we love that our children are becoming independent and confident?

Healthy. Independent. Confident. As a mother, I want my children to be winners on the inside. But a blue ribbon from time to time doesn’t hurt. ūüôā

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The Journey


Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Attitude, Beauty, Encouragement, Exercise, Metaphor, Women | Posted on 29-07-2015

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I try to get a run in whenever I have the chance. Always with my essentials:

  1. Otis.
  2. Two poop bags.
  3. Trusty New Balance shoes.
  4. A sturdy bra.
  5. A ball cap.
  6. A camera.

A camera??¬†I often stop along the run¬†to take pictures of¬†flowers (while Otis sniffs). For me, running¬†is not only¬†exercise and de-stressing. It’s me time, Otis-and-me time, time to enjoy the journey.

Maybe the¬†flowers’¬†bright and smiling faces serve as encouragement along the way?

A quilt of flower photos.

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The Drawstring


Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Clothes, Exercise, Humor, Pippi's poetry | Posted on 20-05-2014

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The Drawstring

Something was dangling

It was jingle jangling

The drawstring from my shorts

While on my run, of course

The shorts started slipping

My hands started gripping

Pulling them higher

But I’m no liar

It was easier to let the shorts fall

Exposing my crack and all

-Pesky Pippi

Just us

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There is a Good Time to Chase Squirrels and…


Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Dogs, Encouragement, Exercise, Family Pet, Humor, Life, Little Story, Otis, Pets, Simply Otis | Posted on 05-03-2014

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I have been running with my dog pretty regularly. You know. The famous Simply Otis? You can “like” his Facebook page at:¬†

We run rain or shine. And lately, even in ice. We’re actually trying to log 31 runs for the month of March. Thirty-one days in March, get it? So far, we’re four for four. In your face!¬†But this is not a bragging story. This is an¬†OMG-I-nearly-knocked-the-Porta-Potty-over-because-Otis-decided-to-chase-a-squirrel-while-I-took-a-crap¬†post.

See? Otis and I make the most excellent running duo.

He pulls me, I lag behind.

I talk to him, he listens.

I take pictures of him, he lets me.

He poops, I clean it up.

I poop, and that’s where this story begins.

If you know me, you know I simply love fiber. Beans. Flax. Oats. Dates in my cookies. More beans. More cookies. You can read about how I nearly pooped my pants in this post.

As Hagrid says, “Better out than in, eh Harry?!”

Well. We were running–Otis and I–and I had to go. Like immediately. Fiber just suddenly kicked in. Fortunately, we ran by a park with whaddya know: a Porta Potty.

Hmmm. Do I take Otis in with me? Do I tie him to a tree, just outside the Porta Potty? And risk someone taking him?

I did what I had to do.

Picture this. I crammed myself into the Porta Potty. Me on the inside of the Porta Potty. Otis on the outside. With leash in one hand inside. And Otis at the other end outside. On the other side of the shut door. I closed the door as best I could and proceeded. There I am, squatting. While Otis started pulling my arm, on the other side of the door. And he was pulling. Very. Hard.

He had spotted a squirrel and was raring to go.

I, too, was raring to go. Bad timing!

Otis yanked and was. Leaping. Towards the squirrel. And you know how squirrels are. They’re fast little suckers. And they dash and dart. The one thought that crossed my mind:


Fast forward four seconds.

Fortunately, there was no toppling. Everything came out just fine. (Oh no squirrels were harmed in this story.)

3 for 3! 3 runs in…3 weeks! ūüôā

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Run Oscar Run!


Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Attitude, Life Lessons, Pop Culture, Sports | Posted on 06-08-2012

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One word for Oscar Pistorius, the South African Olympian runner with artificial limbs: awesomeness.

I mean, I tear up at the Olympic athlete stories. Their stories of struggle. Their stories of sacrifice.

But Oscar Pistorius?

This guy has no legs. He had both legs amputated below the knee as a baby and wears prosthetic limbs.

And he ran the 400-meter semi-finals in the Olympics.


And I’ve been complaining that I have callouses on my toes.


There are naysayers who say his artificial limbs give him an advantage over runners with regular Olympic legs. Are you kidding?? Maybe those naysayers need to walk in Oscar’s shoes for awhile.

Oscar is a true athlete, with amazing ability, attitude, confidence, inspiration, and spunk.

I will never complain about my toes again.

Clomping Along


Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Attitude, Confidence, Exercise, Health, Me Time, Mom Time, Women | Posted on 16-07-2012

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I started running jogging again. OK, let’s call it what it really is. Clomping.

You know, graceful like a Clydesdale? Clomp. Clomp. You could hear me coming a mile away.

I used to run. A lot. Like, obsessively. When I was in college, I’d log in between 50-75 miles a week. If I didn’t get “enough” miles in by Saturday, I’d run an extra five miles that night. Yeah, running alone at 11:00 p.m. That was safe. Then double those miles on Sunday, to make my quota.

But that was a long time ago.

I have tried running since. When my youngest two children were a toddler and an infant. First, I strapped them into a jogging stroller made for one. Then I strapped my boobs into two jog bras (because breast feeding breasts are quite unwieldy).

And we would all ramble down the graveled road like a rickshaw.

You can imagine why this activity was soon replaced with a stationary bike, then later an elliptical machine. It’s just too dang hard to run with children. What with the bundling, strapping, packing Goldfish-crackers-and-apple-juice snacks, soothing the crying newborn, you kinda forget that you’re supposed to be exercising. This was supposed to be MY time.

Several years later, I find myself wanting to run again. I have a lot of friends who run. They are pretty bad ass–and run marathons regularly. They inspire me to go running jogging. By myself. With no kids in tow.

To hear the quiet. To feel the fresh air. To sweat.

To clomp.