author moments

Redneck Sweetheart

This is a funny little story with an even more interesting name: redneck sweetheart.

Let’s get started by laying the ground work. A new acquaintance asked if I’m from around this area? Should I take offense? Should I be flattered? So much to think about.

It got me thinking about the south. I’m originally from the north but spent more than half my life in the south. If majority rules I’m technically more southern based on time vested. Who would guess? I talk fast to most. I’m blunt and I don’t pussy foot around most topics like a nice southern lady. To put it lightly, I can talk about poop.

Keeping with this thought I have heard a million times over all the redneck jokes. All the dumb southern jokes. The list goes on and on. So today I thought I’d write about being a redneck sweetheart. I’d classify more as a redneck than a fine southern lady. 

My first redneck self portrait will be of my yard. What would this sweetheart’s yard look like if you were a neighbor of mine:

I think I have a big yard. Maybe even a pasture or two. I’d find some junk at the local swap meet or antique store to decorate my yard. I would of course call it yard art.

As part of my yard art, I’d go on Facebook marketplace to find me an old school outhouse. I’ve always fancied those cool pieces of history so I’d have to have one in my yard. I may even have a commode in it. Non-working of course. Wouldn’t want to seep the sewage into my yard.

I like bacon so maybe I’d have a pet pig. If I did I’d name him Hank. Hopefully the stink wouldn’t be too bad for my neighbors who have a nice view of my yard.  I use a lot of eggs since I eat healthy so you would definitely have some chickens running around. Maybe even a cock to add to the noise or ambiance. They might be a little noisy and stinky but I’m sure there are worse things to have in your yard.

I like old cars a lot and I’ve seen many people collect old trucks and use the beds for flowers or just yard junk. I guess you’d see a car or two in my yard. If I’m collecting cars I might put out an old tractor because they look cool too.

Whenever my friends get together for a day at the house we usually light fireworks or shoot guns. Things with lots of bangs, booms, pops and stuff. Might make the neighbor’s dog jump, but I can do what I want in my yard.

What redneck sweetheart doesn’t like to ride a dirt bike or four wheeler up down and around the yard? Well that’s me. So I guess if we were neighbors you would see me out and about living my best redneck life on my cool toys. I’m revving the engine in my mind now. The sounds just get me pumped up. The louder the better.

I have a little hill in part of my yard too. When it snows you will see me sledding but when it’s super hot you will me rigging up my own slip n’ slide. Redneck style of course. That means large sheets of plastic with dish soap loaded and ready to go. Lots of screams, laughs and maybe some curse words would be heard if you were my neighbor. If you were my neighbor you’d probably want to hang out but I only invite friends over so you might just have to be a spectator. Sucks for you.

I love entertaining especially in my big yard. Frying turkeys outside on Thanksgiving. Fireworks for the Fourth of July, Memorial Day, and any other time I feel like it. Seafood boil a couple times a year for my crazy Cajun friends. Big family parties in yard. There could be jumpy things, kegs of beer, games and so much chaos at any time. Celebrating life is always a hoot.

As a redneck sweetheart, I have lots of stories to share. One perspective of life. Not good or bad, just one perspective. Now the question is would you judge me if you were my neighbor? Would you give this redneck sweetheart a chance or would you put up a wall? A do not disturb sign?

I really thought about it. If I didn’t like my neighbor would I put up a wall? Maybe. I guess if somebody bothered me enough I’d go through great lengths to make them miserable but just because I could doesn’t mean I should. That’s where this this redneck sweetheart comes into play. I play nice inside my fence. Well for the most part.

I had so much fun writing this redneck post that I think I will continue my redneck stories as a series. Watch for more silly stories to come. I may even ask cousin sally to write as she is a fine southern lady. Guess you’ll have to wait to see.

fitness and nutrition, friendship

3.1 + 13.1 + 20.4+ 20.3 =

A bunch of hard work, a ton of memories and few checks off the to-do list is the sum of the above workouts.

That’s right folks, in seven days calendar days I completed the CrossFit open 20.3 WOD Monday, then went on to complete the 20.4 WOD on Friday just hours before traveling to Savannah, GA to complete my very first half Marathon (13.1 miles), The Rock n’Roll Marathon to be specific. If that wasn’t enough, I took the Remix Challenge and did a 5k as a bonus the following day.

Talk about a wild ride. An adventure to say the least. On my journey I had many of my CrossFit besties competing along side me in the Open but a handful took on the marathon event too. Ten in total hit the road for an adventure.

We traveled as a group and rented a beach house for the weekend. We planned an amazing pj party for the night before the race or that was the original plan. Traffic, dinner, race number pickup and other things seemed to get in the way. Sleep called our names but somehow we didn’t get to bed until close to midnight.

That 4:44am wake up call came entirely too early. “This is a bad idea” crossed my mind several times but I just kept moving with the plan. It was cold. We were tired. It was to be expected, I suppose.

Up way too early to get to the start line. It felt like a marathon before we even started. Driving. Parking. Layering up. Port-o-potties. Hydration. More potty breaks. Anticipation. Warm-up. Giggles. Selfies galore. This went on until we hit the corral At 7:30am and peeled off the layers to literally pound the pavement.

It was .25 miles in the corral, full of excitement with friends and strangers. 13.1 on the road and cobblestone and lots of music to soothe the soul or soles. That 13.1 miles was under three hours but seemed never ending at times. Am I there yet? crossed my mind a few times. Another one down was a level of excitement with each passing mile marker. I can do this!

I’m doing this. I’m almost done. This isn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I say that like it wasn’t hard, it was. It just wasn’t impossible. Rather, it was possible and I was the only one who made it possible. This might be the one thing that I learned this weekend about running and myself. I decide. I decide the start and stop. I decide the music. I decide the distance. The duration. The tempo. I am the one that pushes myself over that finish line. My drive. My perseverance. My strength.

The run/walk/jog was a combination of beauty, commitment, community and just raw emotions. Savannah is breathtaking in the scenery department without question. I had plenty of time to be in the moment with the beautiful homes, trees, and community.

I vividly remember a cop at mile 2. He was cheering and giving high fives to runners. He voice was strong and encouraging yet firm and distinct. He made you want to keep going. He said the runners motivate him. That was crazy to me. But I thought about that for a bit on my run.

I also remember running through a small community that wasn’t a well off neighborhood but it had a very populated street of cheerleaders. Strangers cheering on others. I even saw a small child in his Spider-Man suit cheering while holding his mom’s hand. This was simply amazing. They were handing out water to keep the runners hydrated. Would I be out of bed at 8:30am on a Saturday to cheer on a stranger? Another thought to ponder on my run.

6 miles was upon me before I knew it. And I was met there by my three amazing friends. Ali caught my eye first, screaming keep going from a pole if I recall. Guess she wanted me to see her. Kim was snapping pics at the corner and Chris was somewhere nearby. I heard his voice. Just what I needed at the mid way point. Some friendly voices saying keep pushing yourself. These three won my heart for being so supportive.

I can’t leave out the virtual reminders/pushes that were pretty cool. All of our running group put each other in the tracker app. This might have been the best thing next to sliced bread. Chirp, chirp, chirp. I would get a ding every time one of my running mates passed a check point. This was virtual motivation. Mindy was ahead. I could see her pace. I could adjust as I needed to based on how she was doing. This worked for me. I could see Nick. My oldest who was running the full 26.2 marathon on a slightly different course.

Nick was inspiring all by himself. Doing his run his way. Me being able to experience with him from a distance. Talk about a proud Mom moment. I watched him hit the same pace for almost 20 miles. Holy cow he was doing amazing. How could I not keep going. I mean I was only doing 1/2 the race he was.

The chase. The chase to the finish line. I did it. I’m sore but I did it. I met my goal injury- free. I earned my medal and my 13.1 sticker!


This weekend was so full of adventure that I must split my posts. You read my PJ party post, and next I will continue with my bonus medal chasing experience. A series is warranted because this weekend was just that amazing and it’s a story worth sharing.

If you have ever wanted to run half marathon, do it. My tidbits above are only a glimpse of the amazing journey. I chronicled some of my training sessions previously as well. The bottom line is you can do whatever you put your mind to. Plan. Prepare. Put in effort. Repeat. You can make your own memories. It all starts with the sign up form!