I was organizing my front closet, so my hiking pack was on the kitchen floor for about 30 seconds before the stupid cat was lying inside the bottom compartment.

He protested vehemently when I asked him nicely to get his fat self off.

But then conceded and moved.

Okay, so for the past four years I have been doing my summer season dryland training all over the place - at the Squamish Athletic Club (shout out to Dom, the owner, who has been my workout procrastination wingman for almost to two years now), at the PacSport gym in Whistler, on random hills and in random back alleys around town (creeping locals out since 2006 ... ), in my living room and front yard (creeping my cats and neighbours out since 2007)...

Okay. So yeah. Ummm. I have a bit of stuff.

Oh, wait. It has been pointed out to me, by me and EVERYONE ELSE ON EARTH, that this could possibly be considered an understatement.

OK. So. I have some stuff.

Argh. Fine.

I HAVE COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF STUFF SURROUNDING ME EVERYWHERE AT ALL TIMES FOREVER.

Does that cover it?

I think I officially have enough pictures like this ...

And this ...

And this ...

And this ...

I was at the bank yesterday, and when I came out my mind was, in the eternal words of my dear teammate Charles There-is-an-overabundance-of-Zs-and-Ws-in-my-last-name-combined-with-an-entirely-insufficient-number-of-vowels-making-it-impossible-for-anyone-using-a-Latin-based-alphabet-to-pronounce-without-their-head-imploding, blown.

This can't be right ...

They can't really have made TWO 1997 Ford Escort Wagon LX Editions in Aquamarine Frost, could they have?