Been some confusion about where, who, and how it’s happening this year; there was no news at all, and some folks said the original maintainers weren’t doing it (I messaged and heard nothing). I thought maybe Facebook, and then Kat asked me to join in on a standalone site, so there was that, and then other people started saying that other folks were doing it, and…well, somebody’s doing something, and since the WHOLE POINT is to write entries on your own site anyway, I figure I’ll just do that and just wait for somebody else to tell me where to put the links when it all gets decided.

Not that it matters to you. You obviously got here via other resources. So this is just all behind-the-scenes stuff that can safely be ignored, other than to say: this is what is irking me. A little. But not nearly as much as my annual irritation:

I know. I know. I’ve said it before, but every year the radio starts playing overly ornamented versions of the carol from various pop singers, and they’re all doing it wrong, and GAH. If Santa wasn’t staring down my chimney, that darn list of his in hand with pen poised at the ready, I’d be tempted to start throwing elbows.

But I’ll stay somewhat cheerful today, because my physical therapist was happy with me again. I’ve got lots more range of motion in my shoulder than when I started, and she gave me more strengthening exercises on top of the ones I have, and I feel optimistic that this whole thing will be a memory sooner rather than later. Of course, I did try swimming with a kickboard this morning, and that was a failure after only 400 yards, but I’ve got patience. No rush.

Also, cheerful because my kids are now happily enjoying me reading to them each night from the Wee Free Men books which…just YAY. So glad to have them liking good, fun books that don’t pander. Thrills my heart.

What’s making you happy tonight? If nothing in particular, try this:

Helium walks into a bar. The bartender says, “Sorry, we don’t serve noble gases.” Helium doesn’t react.

Ba-dump bump.

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Here’s the thing: the boys elected, when asked their opinion, to have a later Thanksgiving dinner today than an earlier one, so the meal preparation has been happening through the day, leaving me to wander through the kitchen, trying not to snack (oh, pearl onions; you seduce my heart completely) but contenting myself with sips of a lovely Shiraz while watching Eric in action. He says I get this way when I’ve had a few too many of those sips, but I’ll contend that this level of maudlin has been reached not via grape, but by watching the man I love in action, serving his family in this very special way, hour after hour.

He said he was going to “wing it” this year, leaving behind fancy preparations and complicated menu options. A roast turkey, with a simple stuffing; green beans with mini potatoes; pearl onions in a cream sauce; mashed potatoes; cranberry sauce; giblet gravy. A homemade pumpkin pie to finish. Knowing that my version of “winging it” would probably have involved StoveTop and Sara Lee as guests, I grinned as I watched him positively dance around the kitchen, juggling pots and pans as everything came into form. He stumbled at the giblets, momentarily caught off guard trying to identify one from another (apparently, the liver joins the gravy well after the other organ meats), but he figured it out quickly. The pie was completed soonest, a humbly perfect pie that sits cooling on the entertainment center as we wait for the rest of the meal.

This is Thanksgiving then, and though I’ve been waxing poetic about the food, that’s not what I’m saying. Thanksgiving is in the feeling I get when I see this man, this man I love, working hard for hours to please us in any way that he can. Thanksgiving is in the warmth in my heart as I see him brush flour from his pants, red-faced from the heat, not slowing a moment as he spins from stove to counter to table and back. I remember that he started cooking when I was so heavily pregnant with Gabe, so tired from chasing a toddler around all day, and he stepped up to help, though it wasn’t something at which he’d worked much before that. My husband, the man of many talents: he works so hard, and seeing him work is to see art in action.

Okay, so I have been enjoying the wine.

Thanksgiving is such a perception-based holiday. It’s hard to deny that we are so much more well-off than so many people in this country, simply based on the way our table begins to groan under the weight of the dishes piling onto it. I’m not blind to that, and I feel sincere gratitude that neither of my children has known hunger. At the same time, I know that the real gift here isn’t the food. It’s the love behind it.

Thank you, God.

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Silence. I peek at him sitting on the couch, staring blankly, his Bible in his lap. “Oh. That ‘Jude.’ I was talking The Beatles.” More staring with the suggestion of long-suffering.

I went toward the dining room, and he sighed. “You’re going to play them on the computer now, aren’t you?” he said. Apparently, I’m predictably pedantic. But why fight that at which you excel?

“Yes, I am,” I said, hitting “play” on the tune that started the discussion. “The Beatles are pretty darn important, you know. They influenced so many other musicians, as well as the entire sixties culture!”

“Music culture is boring,” he quipped, “except for Ke$ha.” I whipped around and caught a twinkle in his eye, which saved his life. I faked a swat at him, and he cowered in mock fear while Gabe laughed and repeated the funny phrase to himself.

The song changed to “Let It Be,” and Sam frowned. “Did they sing ‘Rockin’ Robin’?” I almost swatted him again before I realized he wasn’t yanking my chain.

“The Beatles, Sam! Not The Jackson 5! Nothing alike – not even a little! The Jacksons sang about the Robin…” I played that intro, then, “and The Beatles did “Blackbird.” I played that. “Two different birds; don’t confuse them!”

“Oh. But they did ‘Yellow Submarine, though, right?”

“Yes.”

We listened longer. Next came “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer.” Gabe said, “I actually like this song. Wait, is it still The Beatles? Then it’s boring.”

Sam asked, “So, did they have guitars back then?” I winced and played some Renaissance guitar music to prove a point. Sam rolled his eyes.

“That’s different,” he said, the twinkle glinting again. “That just sounds like ‘MagiQuest.’”

Y’all, don’t sympathize with my kids when I tease them; they give back in spades.

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I began calling it “The Weekend of Impossible Things” in my head, what with the flights and the race, but honestly, the flights probably couldn’t have gone any more smoothly. Eric dropped me off early at the airport on Friday mid-afternoon, and I drank a cup of coffee until it was time to board; the plane was a little late arriving, but they got us on as quickly as possible when it did, so I got to Minneapolis almost when I was supposed to. It was much warmer there than it had been in Wisconsin, which gave me some sense of foreboding, but what can you do?

Kelly and Sean picked me up, and we went for dinner at a sweet little Thai place, where I had a delicious curry; then we went home and I got to meet their adorable puppy, Jetta. Make no mistakes, Jetta is a Good Girl.

Got to take lots of walks with her over the course of the weekend, and she’s really taking to training very smoothly!

Next morning, a friend of Kelly’s came in with her mom, and they, Kelly, and I hit the Minneapolis Farmer’s Market. Oh, but before that, I got up and did a quick 3.5-mile shake-out-the-legs run around gorgeous Lake Harriet, which was only a couple of blocks from their house. Talk about convenient…and talk about busy! The paths around the lack were positively packed with runners, walkers, and cyclists. I was amazed at the number of active people out there! And Kelly and Sean told me that every lake is at least that busy on a regular basis! Most impressive! The Farmer’s Market, huge and bustling, reaffirmed the idea in my head that Minneapolis is powerfully focused on health. Wonderful!

After Kelly’s friend left, she and I went to packet pickup, which was quite well-organized and very “green” – no bag full of coupons and junk that would probably go to waste. Got my chip, bib, shirt, and hat, and then we browsed. I knew my New Balances were going to be officially retired after the race, and I scanned the sale shoes available…but then made a last-minute switch.

Baaaaaaa. Let’s jump on the bandwagon, shall we? But I’ve got assurances that should these Newtons not work out for me, I can deal with a local shoe store and head back to my motion-control clompers. Also got a copy of Danny Abshire’s book, all autographed. Neat.

Went home and showed off our stuff to Sean, his dad, and another good friend, Mel. Sean and his dad worked on various house-related projects, and then dinner preparation got underway; meanwhile, after having listened to me bemoan the state of my own house, Sean’s dad actually sat down and helped me sketch out some plans for fixing things around here! I could actually begin to feel optimistic, almost!

Shared a lovely meal of grilled veggies and some lentil soup, then retired early, a bundle of nerves…which somehow evaporated overnight. When I woke up the next morning, I was feeling bizarrely relaxed, not at all afraid of what was to come…

To Be Continued…

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For Valentine’s Day, I got Eric a carry-on suitcase, since he travels so much for work and his current carry-on bag has a busted zipped. This one rolls and is much nicer. He asked me whether I wanted him to get me a gift, and I told him no. This dinner, the one he was planning and for which he was not giving me any tempting details, was going to be more than enough of a gift. I was very, very right.

I had mentioned in passing to him that a blogger I follow had very concisely described the vegetarian approach to meal planning as being “a bean, a green, and a grain.” Eric took that and ran with it. Now, he’s not a vegetarian, but he planned four lovely vegetarian courses (the garlicky lentil soup was actually vegan) that left us both feeling perfectly satisfied in both belly and mouth. This beats flowers or boxed chocolates any day of the week, in my book! (I actually want to get him to write down the recipe for the soup, which, like most of the meal, he developed himself; it would be a perfect carbing-up meal for the days before a race).

Running is going adequately. My foot is fine; my groin is mostly recovered. I suppose all things work as they ought to, since I wouldn’t have had time for a long long run this weekend, anyway; Sam’s Scouting pack has “Mike Fink’s Winter Challenge” this weekend, which will involve spending a very long day out in the snow, playing games and such. It’s warmer this week and supposed to rain between then and now, so there’s a good chance the day will be spent in icy slush instead of snow, but I guess that’s what boots are for!

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February was about doldrums, which I seem to have dealt with by drinking lots of coffee and eating good food, much of which was prepared by my husband’s loving hands.

In March, Eric went to Germany, and I started training for Devil’s Lake. I also went vegetarian.

April saw more running (a half-marathon PR), another Germany trip, and an Easter trip to Madison.

May was thirteen years married to the love of my life. May was a marathon, the Green Bay one. May was Gabe graduating from preschool.

In June, Sam finished school and turned nine, which was the high point of the month. Low points: the ITBS smacking me in the knee, and then the house burglary. But the knee was fixed by physical therapy, in time for me to have one of the most awesome training runs I’ve ever had, on the Kettle Moraine trail, and, thank God, nobody was hurt when the house was burgled.

July…Devil’s Lake. Yes. Just yes.

August was about parents: mine came to visit, and Eric’s dad got remarried. But then Eric went to Mexico, and my dad had serious health scares, and the whole month spiraled down into bad…

…but Alysia came in September, which helped things improve. Needed that, because then school started and Gabe got sad. I ran a lot. Eric (who turned a year older while in Mexico…again…) started running. It was a whole big thing.

October was birthdays (mine and Gabe’s) and another marathon. Also, holes all over my kitchen (electrical work).

November was more travel! We went to Chicago for a race, Toledo for Thanksgiving, and Eric…went to Mexico a bunch more. We also had yucky medical stuff: Gabe was in the ER for puking, and I had my toenails removed. (Temporarily, alas.) But I got one more race in, even if it was a 5K and I was in pain.

And then we come to December. It’s been a lighter month, mood-wise, I think. Gabe became the object of his first crush; we had parties and relaxation time. Christmas was extremely low-key, too. And I ran my final race of the year, the Run Into the New Year 10K, which I finished in 51:05 (9/37 in my age group) on an unseasonably warm and lovely day. (The forecast rain even held off until the second of the two loops, when the sprinkles were just what I needed to cool me down!) Just a perfect ending to the year.

Tonight, the last night of the year, will be as relaxed as the month has been. Gabe has already staunchly insisted that he does not plan to stay up until midnight (the unspoken, “you freaky, freaky people!” hanging in the air afterward, obvious in his wide eyes), but Sam wants to give it the old college try. We’ll see; New Year’s is so anticlimactic when you live outside the eastern time zone. Who wants to just hang out for an hour after the ball drops in Times Square, watching whatever schmo is emceeing our celebration in Chicago? (I think it was Ryan Seacrest last year.) I bought holiday crackers to pop if we want to, which was a hysterical anecdote; the cashier actually scanned my ID because he insisted the crackers were fireworks. I couldn’t stop giggling. Maybe I should ready a fire extinguisher, just in case the little tissue-paper hats burst into flame…

But assuming your own celebrations don’t explode without warning, I hope you all have wonderful ends to your year, as well as lovely years to come. Smile a lot. I plan to.

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After opening presents, Eric made a bunch of eggs, bacon, and hominy; then, when things were dying down, I put on my new running jacket (in purple!) and went out for a seven-miler. My stomach gave me issues, being full of candy and kringle, but it was still worth it to be out there on such a special day.

More relaxing is in order. I feel all cozy in my new holiday sweater Eric got me (it’s a tradition in our little family for everyone to find a festive sweater under the tree), and my coffee has spiked eggnog in it, which is adding to the lovely languorous atmosphere. Sam’s hit the “full and satisfied” state with all the Christmas goodness he’s unwrapped and eaten; Gabe is BOUNCING OFF THE WALLS, but I expect he’ll eventually hit his peak and descend into exhaustion. Eric is out, (fruitlessly so far) attempting to find a few ingredients with which to complete the dinner he’s got in mind, but if he can’t find anything, we’ll still be okay, as the boys have requested freaking Ramen for their supper. Whatever, man. I’m all about simple requests.

Hope your day is as full as ours. Can’t wait to spend the next week just chilling and resting up for the new year ahead!

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I had a nice run with my running club.

Gabe, though continuing to feel intermittently nauseated, never threw up, and he felt well enough to go out with me as my lunch date.

Both boys went to bed without much argument at all, eager to be asleep before Santa gets here.

The presents all got wrapped, and I finally found a stocking solution that lets them hang from my little decorative hangers without pulling them down onto the floor.

Eric and I watched It’s a Trap while wrapping the gifts, which was quite entertaining. (Not as good as Something, Something, Something, Dark Side, in my opinion, though; still, it’s satisfying to see all three.)

Cookies were baked; Eric’s dumplings were made.

I ran out to Walmart to grab a few items, and while that could have been a catastrophe, it ended up being one of the most hilarious experiences I’ve had in a while, just standing back and being amazed at the chaos. Seriously, how many lanes can there be per aisle in a parking lot? Let’s find out!

It’s not even eleven, and everything’s ready for tomorrow. Amazing.

Merry Christmas. Happy holidays. Silent night, peace on earth, and goodwill to all men. I love you guys.

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For toes that healed enough to let me run.

For lungs and heart that held their fitness while the toes were healing.

For best friends who not only welcome you into their homes and family celebrations, but will run with you after a late night of partying and wildness.

For partying and wildness and bad cover band versions of “Freebird.”

For awesome husbands who prepare extravagantly perfect Thanksgiving meals for their families.

For families, especially little boys who positively glow with testosterone-filled camaraderie.

For road trips. For relaxation. For pumpkin pie and butternut squash soup. For coffee and jokes about turkey. For love. For life…

I give thanks, so very much.

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Today, the newborn is somewhat different. (For that matter, as am I.)

But the next to last week of October has been established, therefore, as Birthday Week for 50% of this household, the days of our birth being a mere two days apart. Gabe turned six on Tuesday, and I entered a new racing age bracket by virtue of turning 35 today. (Extra five minutes to my Boston qualifying time, holla…) I imagine there will be some years that we celebrate together and some that involve separate parties; last year, for example, I didn’t really get a party, since I ran the Marine Corps Marathon that week, and so I was happy to share Gabe’s cake when I returned. This year, scheduling worked out so that nobody really partied, but Gabe got a special dinner on his birthday (he picked a tiny little Greek diner, for some reason, and loved it), and I…made crepes for the family. Whatever; they were good. And I went out by myself for a sushi lunch, as well as lots of free coffee from different places via internet birthday coupons, so it’s all good. (BOING BOING CAFFEINE WHEEEE!)

It’s therefore a low-key sort of Birthday Week this trip around the sun, and I think we’re all okay with that. ‘Tis a gift to be simple, after all. As I told the man serving me what I think was my fifth mug of coffee today, “I stayed alive another year! Go, me!” And go, Gabe, too. It might sound like a minor achievement, but from my perspective lately, and knowing and trying not to consider the alternative, I am thrilled beyond words to begin following my second son on yet one more orbit. Let’s go, baby!

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Also, I baked dark chocolate brownies with butterscotch chips. Those, for the most part, are going to a cookie walk for the PTA at the kids’ school tomorrow, so I don’t have to worry about sugar overload. On the other hand, the likelihood of coming home with other cookies is pretty high, so I’m not out of the woods.

Look what Eric’s doing. My husband impresses me so much.

Sam’s actually reading for pleasure, finally. This makes me happier than I could possibly say.

Gabe is adjusting very well to school, at last. He likes his teachers, he likes his bus, and he didn’t even freak out when I was a minute late getting him and Sam from the bus stop this afternoon (I was stuck on hold with Sam’s allergist).

Dad’s home recuperating, and they were able to do the procedure to take out the stent and destroy the kidney stone, and he feels much better now.

In other words…it’s all good.

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Things that make me feel happy today:
- Sam headed straight down to the shower this morning with no debate or complaining. (It’s a new routine this school year that we’ve instituted, partly to help wake him up and get him level-headed and partly because, well, he needs it. Switching from evening to morning was a jolt for him, but he’s getting there.)
- Gabe seems to be in a good mood today, too, though that might be because there’s string cheese in the fridge, and this kid adores it.
- Also, Gabe finished up the school week last week by having “not a single tear all day!” so I have high hopes for continued adjustment.
- I had a really nice 20-miler on Saturday, despite the rain that lasted through nearly the whole run. I’ve decided to treat this marathon as a reward for a year’s worth of hard running, so I’m going into it with no time goal and just a relaxed mind ready to enjoy every moment and fun sight.
- Saturday night, a moment after “lights out,” I crunched my small toes really, really hard into a door frame, and I was convinced at least one was broken. Took the day off, rested, and now they feel okay, thank God!
- Eric’s running, and he’s enjoying it this time around. It’s great to see him start something new like this and have it slowly become a source of pleasure!
- I’ve got kale in the fridge and kale chips on the brain for dinner.

I have a step-back week in marathon training now, which will feel lovely. This is another reason I feel compelled to make this marathon “for fun”: when I’ve trained for marathons before, I don’t recall feeling quite so relieved to reach the first step-back week between 20-milers, and I know that’s because I’ve done so much work this year. I really didn’t get much recovery time between DWD and beginning to train for this. Everything seems to be holding up okay, physically, but my paces are a smidge slower and my mind a touch more reluctant to push things…so I’m going to be conservative, which feels right. After all, many marathoners feel that training for one marathon a year is plenty for the body to handle; I’ve already done 3 marathon+ distances this year (Green Bay, DWD, and one 27-mile training run), plus plenty of 20+-milers leading up to those. I’m just over 1,500 running miles for the year at this point; last year, for the entire year with two marathons, I topped out at 1,850. Crazy!

Anyway, have to go pack lunch for Gabe; Sam’s a big fan of the hot lunch option, for some reason, but Gabe is reluctant because he detests milk, and the idea of requesting a different drink from the lunch folks intimidates him a little. I don’t mind.

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A rare appearance by him. I have so many more videos and pictures of Gabe lately, it seems, because Gabe is always all over me, yelling, “TAKE MY PICTURE!” or “MAKE A VIDEO OF ME!” Sam is more reticent. It’s nice when I can get him to share. He is just getting so big lately! He’s past my shoulder now, which is simply unacceptable. Of course, I’m short, and we’re still holding out hope he inherited taller genes. Really, though, would it be too much to ask for nature to allow me to grow taller while he does? (Sure would make those kitchen cabinets a little less annoying. Also, capri pants. I’d love to not look as though I just shrunk my trousers.)

So now I have a fourth-grader (despite Sam’s reluctance) and a kindergartner. And they’re both out playing in the neighborhood right now, which is the most bizarre thing ever, because how can I have kids that just…go, and I’m left saying, “Don’t run off and leave your little brother behind!” (I know he won’t, and even if he would, I would quickly HEAR ABOUT IT from Little Mister Indignant.) Shouldn’t somebody be sitting in my lap? Shouldn’t somebody be in that bouncy chair over in the corner…now, wait, what happened to the bouncy chair? I could swear it was here and occupied, just last night…

Everybody’s having babies, too, which goal I want to clarify quickly is not shared by us. No more babies; not even to try for a redhead (the question I get asked more often than the “trying for a girl” one). Nobody appears to be missing from our family, which is sort of the litmus test we use for such things. Still, it feels as though, with that decision made, we’ve officially moved on to the next stage of things, while many of my friends are opting for another go-around on the first ride. Honestly, this new stage is scary in its own right. New doors open, and all the things that were so very, very important in recent memory are fading. A brand new baby products store just opened downtown, and it looks awesome, but…*sigh* Somebody buy something nice for me, okay? (Well, not for me, you know. In my stead. As I would have liked to, had I a current need for a fleece diaper cover or teeny little twee moccasins.)

Caveat: the first person to try to “console” me, evil glint in his or her eye, with all the fun I’ll have shopping for aftershave, jockstraps, or prom boutonnieres gets it between the eyes.

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That stinker got the jump on me with gifts, giving me mine last night before we went out together. He got me this dress:

…which is very cute and pretty and makes me feel all feminine. On the other hand, he also said that he chose this style because of my shoulders and back, and how I needed to show them off.

Perhaps a little less feminine. Well, in the old-fashioned sense, perhaps. Girls can be muscled! It’s just been a while since I looked at my back. Some views, others get to appreciate more than we ourselves do. I hadn’t noticed this development until now. Hmm.

Eric’s gift is being given to him on our anniversary, as I planned. He’ll have to wait until he gets home! We weren’t able to go out tonight, as Sam has a Pack meeting for Scouts, but that’s worth the inconvenience. If I’m not entirely mistaken (and I could well be; these things confuse me a lot), I think Sam advances rank tonight? If not, it’ll still be fun. Oh, and my folks got us a fruit arrangement! Can’t wait to dig into that! (But I will, of course. Eric, hurry home! )

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That cake was decorated by Sam and Gabe. Eric made lasagna (from scratch, including the noodle) and garlic bread, and he gave me the flowers and the opal ring – to replace one he gave me before that I can no longer find, sadly. I feel thoroughly blessed, and not simply by the gifts. I feel blessed to have this family, so dear to me. My heart is full.

I am also blessed by my own mother.

I miss her daily, so far away in Maryland, but I can feel her presence every day. I hear her in my voice, for heaven’s sake. Her tone, her mannerisms, her words, her wisdom (when I manage to channel it; it’s far more elusive, unfortunately, than the vocal cadence) – it makes me smile to sense echoes of her inside of me. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. I wish I could be there with you, celebrating with your mom!

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Plus, I had a good run this morning. Step-back week, which means I only had to go for ten miles this time, and I pushed the pace down to about a comfortably hard 8:15 minute-mile for them. Of course, that meant that I felt mentally zonked by about twenty minutes into the choir rehearsal directly after that, but that’s okay. Then I managed to get Sam to read nearly to the end of “Blue Dolphins” and write the intro to his solar energy paper with no voice raising or stress on either of our parts! (That shouting you might be hearing now is just “brotherly love” over Lego Star Wars on the Game Cube. It’s amazing how heated a purportedly “cooperative” game can become when the participants have differing ideas about which missions to undertake.) With any luck, I can get him through the planning phase for the paper’s body after dinner tonight, leaving the actual writing to be accomplished easily tomorrow. It’s not due until Thursday, so that’ll leave time for the poster-making, as well as for him to write his book report. Wow, I’m actually feeling optimistic about this! See? Told you my pendulum was back to normal!

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Came home, got dressed, and went out on my Free Day! First I went to the bookstore, where I got, among a couple other books and a magazine, Tara Weaver’s book, The Butcher and the Vegetarian. It is phenomenal! I’m enjoying it so much! On the one hand, I’m not a vegetarian personally, but I do have leanings toward – oh, what’s the term they’re bandying about these days? Flexitarianism? So I’m enjoying both the detailed descriptions of the meat dishes she was learning to prepare as well as being able to sympathize with her conflicted feelings. The chapters on industrial farming and the treatment of food animals are particularly powerful.

Then I went to lunch and had Thai Chicken pizza. Well, I hadn’t started the book yet.

After that, I ran some errands and then went to coffee, where I plowed through a bunch of my book over several hours. By the time I looked up, it was dinner time! I went for sushi, because it’s been way too long. Had myself a nice little pile of sashimi, then walked around a little downtown before I realized that it was way to cold to look into windows of closed businesses. (It’s really pathetic down there these days.) Decided I needed one more indulgence before heading back home, so I went in search of dessert, which I found in a very crowded Olive Garden. Hey, I didn’t mind; I had my book! Got myself a piece of tiramisu and a glass of Pinot Noir, which I savored for a long while (by the time I got my table, the crowd had been dispersed, so I didn’t feel guilty), and then headed home and helped put the kids to bed.

Eric had been working all day, preparing for our Valentine’s Day meal! We’ve decided to do Valentine’s Day here, eating a late dinner after the boys are in bed. I put the menu decisions firmly into Eric’s creative hands, and I don’t expect to be disappointed that I did! He gave me a small taste of the coffee creme anglaise he made as part of the dessert, and…oh…

Happy Valentine’s Day, everybody!

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I also went on an impromptu long run this afternoon, for several reasons. One, the aforementioned puffiness. (That wasn’t a big reason, though, since I’d have been cross-training at the gym anyway if I hadn’t run.) Two, I somehow ended up with five runs of nearly the same length this week, and my legs felt like they needed something a bit longer to feel sufficiently worked. Third, it’s Christmas week; Gabe is off school, Sam starts his break on Wednesday, and we leave on vacation a few days later. Running is going to be hard to fit into the schedule over the coming days, and I wanted to make sure I did what I could to maintain as much of my base as possible. It was a very nice run, and I’d have gone longer, but it was starting to get a bit darker, and I was wearing all black and navy. Not a good combination, especially with a few icy patches left on some roads and sidewalks.

The cantata went well today. It’s hard when all the emotionally strong moments get sprung on you for the first time while performing, so you have to hold back tears while being watched by everybody. They had a young couple with their small baby dress as Mary, Joseph, and Jesus, and come down the aisle during one of our songs; the scene was powerful enough that several of us were sniffling. The elderly woman who narrated the cantata did a fantastic job stirring everyone’s emotions, too; I later learned that she’s been performing with the local theater guild for decades. And the truly unfair part that had me trying not to sob during the performance wasn’t even part of the production! They had the doors open at the back of the church, and we could see out into the narthex, beyond which a large creche was situated, and while we were singing, I saw Gabe’s Sunday School class solemnly parade out to the manger to place boxed gifts in front of the manger. Augh!

In the face of all that, a little peanut butter cookie seems entirely warranted. A small one, you know. Protein consumption is a virtue?

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Luckily for me, Eric is made of more enduring stuff. My dinner:

That’s his kidney bean curry, possibly my favorite “comfort food” item Eric makes. He even thought perhaps that it was a “bit too spicy” tonight, which means that it’s even more perfect, in my opinion. Yum. And there’s a ton left over, which means happy, happy lunches for several days!

Some days, I feel unbelievable and undeservingly lucky.

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Four more days…

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And to top it off, we got backed into a corner with other assignments and obligations, and now we’re probably going to have to skip Scouts tonight in order to reach the next checkpoint along the path of this project (a second “sloppy copy,” complete with illustrations, due tomorrow). So much to do, and so little time to do it all…isn’t that the story of life, though?

But this afternoon, Sam’s at school, and it’s a rainy day that’s inspired Gabe to do quiet things around the house. I’ve baked pumpkin, not for any particular reason except that I had a can of pumpkin and a need to smell something comforting. It didn’t let me down. Just imagine that I’ve put a picture here; it doesn’t photograph well, but you can’t take a photo of a smell, anyway, or of a flavor.

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Today I was running, and a thought that’s been swimming in my head for a while kept coming back to me. When people see a runner looking all scowly and grim-faced, it certainly doesn’t spread the idea that running is a fun and positive-feeling thing to do. I usually try to keep my face completely relaxed and loose while I’m running, with cheeks and eyes soft, so as to encourage the rest of my body to not tighten up. (Sound like natural childbirth? Kind of like that! ) Today, I was feeling pretty good on the run, though, and when the podcast to which I was listening cued in a song I love, I smiled. And smiled some more. And kept smiling. I hit a huge (in southeast Wisconsin terms) hill and powered up it…and at the top, I exclaimed aloud and pumped a fist. I felt AWESOME!

I’ve had “runner’s high” before, and it’s a groovy and surreal sensation, where absolutely all the bad falls away and leaves you in a state of total physical harmony. I got that euphoria again today, and it almost seemed as though I brought it on myself intentionally, just by smiling. Now I wonder how long I can keep this going, just wearing a grin on my face, no matter what’s happening around me.

Eric’s got a half-day at work today, and he should be home soon. Yay, free time with my husband!

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Sometimes I can’t fathom why Eric wants to be around me, let alone love me, but he does, always. I’ve joked that there’s no accounting for tastes, but he pushes that aside as soon as it leaves my mouth. He found me lovely, and even sexy, when I was at my heaviest and most slug-like; he, the smartest man I’ve ever known, claims to feel humbled by the mind that I sometimes wish I could grab with two hands and shake until it yields me even the basics of what I want from it. He works so darn hard to support this family, and even last night was saying that he ought to start going in to work at 6:30 in the morning – an hour earlier than he has been – without a trace of annoyance or reluctance beyond the consideration of how it might affect my running plans.

Sure, he has his flaws, wrapped up in that pesky state of being human, but as far as humans go, I know I’m wedded to one of the better ones. More openly, I’m married to the best one for me. Am I the best one for him? That’s where my insecurities occasionally fall, when they do, but his words of reassurance, his gestures of love, and the admiration and sincerity in his eyes carry me past those moments. A few days ago, he told me to write him a book, as though it was the easiest thing in the world, and even while I giggled, he made it clear that he believed that for me, it would be just that simple.

I don’t know what’s got me so maudlin today. I’m not feeling all that well, with a sore throat and a neck that feels stiff and achy, so maybe my enforced idleness, so as not to disturb thing, has me a bit more contemplative than usual. Maybe it was just the extra hug I stole in the bathroom this morning. Maybe it’s anticipation of our date tomorrow night, or maybe it was just the glimpse of him I caught earlier, lying on our bed in the middle of getting ready, with the breeze and early sunlight from the window playing over his face and making a pretty picture for me to carry through the day. Who knows what’s pushing my brain in the direction it goes at any given moment? But here I am, on no day of any importance at all, and it feels like a celebration.

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I’m climbing out of my funk a bit. Today’s run was a great step toward that; I did 4.75 miles at sub-8 pace for the whole way, including a couple of short but steep hills mixed in. Boy, my quads felt those! I didn’t let myself slow, though – just powered on through and felt like queen of the world at the top of each one. Today I was thankful for headphones; a bicycle rider passed me on one hill, going the other way, and after we waved and smiled at each other, he looked like he wanted to shoot the breeze for a moment, but I pretended I couldn’t hear. Stopping at that moment wasn’t an option!

Eric’s off work today, a lovely treat. We’ll all get to hit the farmers’ market together! He’s only had the opportunity to be surprised by the things I find, so today he’ll get to do some of the choosing. Then we’re having a relaxed lunch before I go back to tackling the kids’ playroom. My goal is to get the old train table out of there, which they never use as such anymore, and replace it with a long conference-type table from our basement, which will be better for Lego work. Maybe we’ll even stick on some big flat Lego base pieces for them. Possibilities abound!

Unrelated, I could be more chipper than usual because my usual breakfast was usurped by a Morningstar Farms Mushroom Lover’s burger. Oh, my word! Can I get put on some sort of weekly subscription order for those things?

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The boys had a great time at the party, too, surrounded by other kids and roughhousing outside in a bounce house, so it was probably to be expected that at the evening’s close, Gabe would absolutely refuse to leave. I sent Sam to go get him, and the next thing I knew, Gabe was bouncing toward me, grinning and yelling, “Where is it? Sam said you had a present for me!” Oh, the humanity when he realized that Sam had been lying (thanks, Sam); he screamed and flailed and kicked and howled the whole way to the car. Of course, he was also dealing with not having had a nap or eaten much, despite my best efforts on the latter, so we stopped at a drive-through on the way home for some quick food for him, and by the time we pulled into the driveway, he had hit the stage of sated, full-bellied exhaustion.

One more full week of school, and of the stresses that accompany it! (I had to deliver a forgotten project to school for Sam this afternoon, so I’m a little touchy about that. ) His birthday party is this weekend, and a field trip on Monday, and then it’s smooth sailing until fall…and, speaking of that, I just reserved my hotel room for the night before and of the Marine Corps Marathon. Woot!

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Sometimes you make a day better by, um, structuring a bit of unstructured creativity. I saw these books while I was out with Gabe today, and I immediately decided that it could provide the perfect antidote to the stress of 4 o’clock “progress report” time. (Which wasn’t too bad today. He got all “okay” faces, which confuses the heck out of Eric and me. Did he do something wrong? Not bad enough to actually tell us (or, apparently, for him to remember), but not good enough for a smiley? What the heck, yo?) Anyway, both boys are loving the books, but especially Gabe, who seems to have taken to heart the idea of following the “suggestions” for each page. Sam prefers the “free pages,” naturally.

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We took the train to Chicago, walked around and shopped (Eric got some Levenger stuff, and I got my squee on at the Vosges store (brick and mortar! Who knew?!), did more window shopping, and ate lots of yummy food. I was starting to feel fuzzy-headed when we got there, since I’d purposefully eaten lightly before that, so we ran into Friends Sushi which was a hip little place with some very good food! We shared some of that, then walked around some more, enjoying the sights until dinner time.

Eric selected Texas de Brazil, where I’d never been, and if you know the meaning of “churrascaria,” then you’re probably groaning in happy sympathy for my belly right now. Think humongous “cold bar,” filled with loads of vegetables, salads, cheeses, cold cuts…a selection of sushi, rices, bisque, and beans…and, then, the MEAT. They bring over skewers of different kinds of meat, cutting off pieces to put on your plate, and it just keeps coming so long as you have your little sign flipped to “green.” When you flip it to “red,” they give you break. On top of that, Eric and I opted to share a half-bottle of red wine, which was awesome – and then a server overheard me wishing Eric a happy anniversary, and they brought over complimentary champagne! To say that I was feeling the effects would be an small understatement, but I was feeling fine by the time we made it back to the train station to head for home.

The boys were well-behaved for my friend, and they were passed out when we got them. She loved the bread I made, which pleased me; it was fun to make it! All in all, it was a great day, and I wish we could have days like it all the time, but then, I suppose, it might not have felt as special. Doesn’t keep me from wanting to do it again soon, though!

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Fasting for the exam did not make me smile, but my scrambled eggs with scallions and peppers that I made after we were done? That did, as did the coffee I’d been craving since waking.

And this:

…Well, it might look mysterious and not so exciting to most, but it’s a four-day-old starter for sourdough! It smells deliciously fruity. Tomorrow I’ll feed it some more flour, sugar, and milk! Eric remains dubious. I just wish it would be ready in time for me to make some bread with it for my babysitting friend, but, alas, it won’t be mature by then. Oh, but I don’t need reasons to spoil people with bread!

I have fresh pink Kalanchoes in bloom on my dining room table.

I’m experimenting with a chickpea and caper salad for dinner tonight.

I bought a domain and can’t wait to put it to use.

The sun is shining, and I don’t need to wear a heavy sweater anymore.

What’s got you smiling today?

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So! What should I make for her?
Note: There is a poll embedded within this post, please visit the site to participate in this post's poll.

Please feel free to elaborate (what kind of cookies/cake/muffins/bread/whatever?) in the comments!

We’re going to take the train into Chicago and walk around, just hanging out together.

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But today! Today was different! (Odd how that always seems to happen the morning after I have some red wine. ) I woke up before the alarm, got out and – crossing my fingers – attempted the mile repeats that were so painful last week…and rocked ‘em! No pain, lots of fun! Rawr! Came home, showered, and had possibly the best bowl of oatmeal I’ve had in my life! Added Grape Nuts, banana, walnuts, a little milk, some ricotta cheese, and a splash of sugar-free caramel coffee syrup. I melted with the first bite! Then Eric and I skipped The Love Dare in favor of spending the time in each others’ arms.

So far, this has been the best day I’ve had since the marathon, and possibly one of the best for the YEAR.

And here in a bit, I’m going to take Gabe out and select the tree that will finally serve to replace the one we took down a few years ago. We want something smaller, prettier, and – if the rest of the family has their way; I don’t care, myself – potentially fruit-bearing. Then the two of us get to get all down and dirty to plant the thing. Fun times – and, amazingly, I’m not feeling sarcastic when I’m saying that.

I hope I’m not blowing all my “good day” karma on today. Sure feels like I could be!

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And then I planned, and told the kids as much, to let them watch a movie tonight, but while Gabe was finishing up his food, he got the idea to taunt Sam by telling him how much he hated nature and wanted to cut down all the trees. (Boy, does somebody know his brother’s hot buttons or what?) I could have dealt with that, but Sam snapped and was pinching Gabe before I could intervene. So I snapped and called off the movie. Shot myself in the foot, there; I needed the quiet time it would have afforded me. I dunno. Maybe they can earn it back somehow. The living room needs picked up, what with all the Lego play going on recently.

(Actually, I looked over just now, and that’s exactly what Sam’s doing. (Is he reading my mind? Am I that predictable? More likely, knowing him, it’s guilt-cleaning. But he’s also making nice with his brother, too – just brought him a heart he found under the toy boxes, and it appears very sincere. I won’t break out the popcorn yet, but at least the evening isn’t degenerating completely into a pile of tears and recriminations!)

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From us to you.

I’m roasting some chicken right now, and the boys haven’t quite ODed on chocolate and candy yet, so we’ll call the day a success. (The fact that I’m still riding an adrenaline high from a lovely sunny bike ride helps.)

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2. Last night, I was exhausted, so since it wasn’t his bedtime yet, Sam lay in the bed next to me, reading a Speed Racer book. The look he gave me when I had to tell him that “Prix” was pronounced “pree” was priceless.

3. I’m on the last hole in my belt – in the other direction from what would once have been typical for me.

4. Gabe informed me, in a fit of pique about something completely unrelated, that my hair was “bad! It needs more color!” Later, when he was calm, I asked him to clarify, and he said that I needed to put some pink in it.

5. Both kids have become slightly obsessed with watching Eric play old video games in emulation on the computer. They actually demand that he play for them frequently; he’s like an interactive demo mode. Luckily, he’s also a good enough player to let them see entire games, from beginning to end.

6. With spring waking things up, I get to scare the snot out of more and more bunnies on my morning runs.

7. Last night, I was juggling about eight different dinner-related tasks, and I called upon Sam to put the silverware on the table. “Why do I have to do everything?” he moaned…and then he caught sight of my face, which must have been completely naked, because he immediately started back-pedaling like whoa. “I mean, I’m doing…all the kid stuff…the other stuff…I’m helping!” Then he wisely stopped talking and did the task quickly as he could.

8. I am only three runs, including my last long run, away from the beginning of my taper for my first marathon. How did that happen?

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Wasn’t really exaggerating when I said that I was feeling out ways to “borrow” a dog for a running partner. My original thought was, “Hey, I run by the animal shelter on a regular basis; it’s not that far from our house. Maybe there are some energetic dogs there that aren’t getting the kind of exercise they need, and a run now and then would let their behavior improve so they would look more adoptable!” I’ve heard people talking about how an exercised pooch is a better behaved pooch, after all. The yard behind the shelter didn’t look all that large to me. (The whole shelter looked pretty run-down, come to that.)

So on Saturday, I ventured over there, plan in hand. The workers didn’t seem as taken with the idea as I was, in the end. They seemed to feel quite strongly, in fact, that what I needed to do was…adopt a dog. “But I don’t really want a dog…” I said. “I’m not a ‘dog person.’” Yes, yes, but wasn’t I just talking about a running partner? And wouldn’t it be prudent to at least look and see if any of the dogs looked like they’d fit the bill? Well, they were more subtle than that, but the basic gist was there, and I’m not generally great at saying “No.”

So I walked down the row. It was rather sad, seeing all the dogs in their cages, whimpering and barking. Looking at them, though, it was pretty clear that most of them wouldn’t have worked as running companionship, anyway; they were too small or old-looking (to my eyes, anyway; I don’t know dogs). But there was one on the very end…not small. Not old. Not yelping, either.

And not long for the shelter. “She’s been here a while, and nobody wants her,” was the worker’s shrugged description. I looked at her – and fell. Fell hard. I called Eric, and something in my voice brought him and the boys over; I can’t explain it, because he’s not a dog person either. In a normal world, he’d have told me to get my butt home and away from Heart-Wrench Hotel, but obviously the earth had turned on its head. They all filed in and saw her.

(...)
Read the rest of Miss me? (228 words)

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So the opportunity arose this morning to do that, and I jumped at it. Ordinarily, right now I’d be out running, since Tuesdays are mid-length run days, and I do those while Gabe is in preschool. The skies are ominous, though, and they’re calling for at least an inch of rain today, starting any minute now. I decided, instead, to brave the “few showers” forecast for 4:30 this morning, and I lucked out: a light sprinkling around mile seven, but that was it. Now I have the preschool slot wide open, so I’m typing this from Caribou Coffee, a mug of good brew close at hand. My feet are up on a cushy ottoman, and I feel relaxed. No household clutter around me; no chores nagging out of the corner of my eye. My soul needed this, as brief as it unfortunately will have to be. (Have to go run errands momentarily.)

Only drawback is that refills are free, and who can pass that up, I ask you? ::twitch::

Eric is out with buddies tonight, so it’s a good thing this chance came when it did. Otherwise, Mama Bear might have turned on the cubs by dinner time.

Whoa, that was thunder out there! Here she comes! Ordinarily, not a problem, but the darn basement is going to get wet again. I have less subtle expletives than that to toss at the neighbor who redid his driveway last fall and screwed up the grading next to our house. Yes, lots of creative language for that situation. Colorful language; sparkling, even. Pirates go wide-eyed…

C’mere, coffee.

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Warmer tomorrow, but with more rain. At least they called off the thunderstorms that were originally awaiting me around the time I wanted to do my mid-length run. And then! “Wind advisory” for Wednesday’s run! Am I a postal worker, with the “neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet” shtick going on? (If so, I want benefits.)

I’m mollifying myself by “dressing up” my coffee at the moment. Just frothing the milk before adding it, without changing amounts or anything else, turns a normal mug into a lovely, foamy treat. Happy am I. And my Amazon books came this weekend, so I have reading material! Eric doesn’t much care for it, but my preferred method is to have a book close at hand in every room of the house; you never know when you’ll have a free five minutes to read a few pages. Food Guide for Marathoners is here in the dining room, and I’ve got Dean Karnazes in the bathroom (and don’t you wish you did, too?). I feel prepared, I do.

Tonight we have an appointment with our insurance gal to update some policies. Last time we did this, I was in rather a different place, health-speaking; it’s long overdue. Of course, that puts a crimp into dinner plans, so…LEFTOVER BONANZA, AHOY!

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It’s been a good morning. Eric had a medical appointment and some vacation time to use up, so he took the day off work, which meant that I didn’t need to bust my butt to get in my run before he needed to leave. It was an awesome run, mostly in the warm sunlight – nearly fifty degrees! – and I came to the decision that, you know, I’m just not going to do Daylight Savings this year. I don’t care what y’all do, but I’m just leaving my clocks as they are. I like my mornings sunny, and I couldn’t give two craps whether it’s dark at dinner time. (Makes it easier to convince Sam to come inside to eat, anyway.) It’s not fair to change it just as it started getting good!

Anyway, I finished that, had a nice breakfast and put on a lightweight dress (because it’s almost fifty degrees! Yay, Wisconsin heat wave!), and Eric and I took Gabe out for errands together. Gabe just ate up his daddy’s attention, not having to share it with Sam, and when I finally had to put him down for his nap a little bit ago, he was…reluctant. Vocally so. Sorry, neighbors.

Eric headed off for a nice workout at the gym (in daylight!), and he’ll be making pizza for us tonight! There’s a ball of whole wheat dough rising in the sunlight on my kitchen table, and it’ll be turned into a curry pizza later on. I’ve already been asked for the recipe, so I’ll have to beg that from him later. All I know is that I’ve been fantasizing about it since waking up…

Could the day be any better? And the weekend should be a little slice of all right, too, since we’ve already made rainy-day plans involving the Titanic exhibit at the museum (courtesy of Sam’s request, since his school field trip to the African exhibit quite unfairly didn’t involve any scenes of shipwreck). Maybe I can add on a sidestep into the Butterfly Wing, too! I bet Gabe would enjoy it.

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And we ate this.

And then, because we spent so long at the restaurant (there was a long wait, but it was truly not a problem because it was so much fun to watch the animated hostesses freak out on people), we ended up coming back home by way of a drug store, where we picked up a box of chocolates to share in bed. It was an awesome Valentine’s Day.

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(But I ask, who could predict that of the dinner of sweet-glazed meatloaf and various vegetables last night, the only thing the boys would eat would be the asparagus? What sort of aliens am I rearing? And how do you not spend the night in miserable hunger when that’s all you’ve eaten?)

I was feeling rotten last night, anyway, on top of the soul-crushing dinner rejection. My weariness and headache turned sharply into waves of nausea, and I spent the evening making sure I had a large bowl within reach at all times. Never had to use it, but Murphy’s Law surely would have come into play had I stepped more than six feet from it, so I kept it cradled to my chest for the most part. By bedtime, I was feeling a bit better, but when I woke up early this morning, I decided to do my run outside instead of in the gym, as I’d planned (due to rain in the forecast), just in case; suddenly dodging to the side of the path to throw up sounded better than jumping from a treadmill and dashing for the nearest wastebasket. Thankfully, going early saved me from having to run in the rain after all, and I stayed nausea-free for the run and the rest of the day so far. My throat even feels a bit better, too! Hurray!

Almost naptime. Just keeps getting better!

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(...)
Read the rest of Surprise (77 words)

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You love red.

The dress fits well.

You really don’t have many occasions to wear a dress like this. Not like you can stand with the choir in front of the church on Sunday mornings with only one shoulder covered. But…red. Pretty. Cheap.

Where am I going to wear my new dress? (I even got a new bra, since I didn’t have any strapless ones that currently fit. That, too, was on clearance, drastically reduced, and fits very, very well.)

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Things that didn’t get into the videos: I came in 232nd in a field of 570-some runners, and 8th out of 36 in my age group. Karen, the friend who ran as well, was great fun to hang out with before and afterward, and I’m looking forward to doing more local races with her in the coming year. Sam was mildly impressed by my medal, but Gabe was disappointed that it wasn’t “golden.” (Telling him that even the first-place medals didn’t look gold didn’t make it better.) So, that’s two medals for age-group finishes in 2008! I’m feeling pretty pleased with myself at this point, and I hope my performance continues to improve in the new year.

Tonight we’ll celebrate the end of the year with the bottle of champagne and snack-type foods, and it’ll be that weird, anticlimactic experience that New Year’s is when you’re anywhere outside of the eastern time zone and not in a place that makes up for the delay. “Yay, the ball dropped!…we have another hour to kill. Um, anybody for Trivial Pursuit?” Happy New Year, everyone.

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Good wine? A crystal glass of Bolla merlot is sitting next to me – not too dry, not too sweet. Maybe it’s not the rarest or most pricey of reds, but it’s perfect for me and for the moment!

Good book? I have a new issue of Running Fitness from my stocking, all pristine and ready to accompany me over the next few days. Love!

A good run? I had to go over to Amanda’s this morning, to replace the wrong bag of dumplings that we gave her last night. After that, I still had some run left in me, so I ran on…

Good company? …I ran on to another friend’s house, after having wished Amanda and her family a merry Christmas. The next friend also received a Christmas greeting, and the third friend for whom I headed next would gotten one, too, but she wasn’t home. Along the way, I wished everybody I met on the street a happy holiday, and though I received many strange looks and baffled-sounding returns of the sentiment, it felt wonderful to be out there like that, grinning wildly at my fellow man as I dashed along.

More…

Merry Christmas, and happy holidays!

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So if you’ve made me laugh in the past year, or even just crack a smile on a down day, know that I’m feeling especially thankful for you today. You don’t have to be an American, either; I’ll still eat some pie (or possibly bread pudding? The jury’s still out) in your honor!

And among the other things for which I’m thankful today are bright skies, warm-ish temperatures, and a race course with only a very few patches of ice to slow me down! I did the 10K distance in the Kenosha Turkey Day Run this morning (last year I did the 2 mile), and I finished in 52:38, which is about a minute faster than my previous PR. That put me 6th in my age group! It was a huge field of runners, so I was pretty pleased with that standing. There were bunches of people there from the running club, and it was fun to cheer for everybody I saw. Then, of course, there were the costumed runners you get for themed runs such as this one; I saw a guy dressed as a hot dog, one dressed as a chicken, and one guy in head-to-toe neon green, including a mask that completely covered his entire head and face.

I did start out way too fast, but I managed to hold that pace throughout. By the last mile, I was really feeling it, though; at the last half-mile, I tried to give myself a pep talk to keep moving, but what came out of my mouth was sort of a, “GRAHHHHHHH!” My “battle yell” startled the guy in front of me, who jumped visibly; sorry about that.

Anyway, tired now. Going to rest a bit before food prep starts in earnest. Happy Turkey Day to everybody celebrating!

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But today I’m thirty-three years old, which number seems really dull. Thirty-three; three times eleven, eleven itself being pretty unremarkable. I suppose if you’re a fan of three, then thirty-three might hold a mild amount of interest, but it just doesn’t have enough divisors to keep my attention.

…good LORD, I’m a geek.

But I didn’t go out and do 3.3 miles today; that would have been pushing that geek factor. Thirty-three miles would also have been appropriate, were I at that level, but, of course, I’m not. I settled for ten, which has nothing whatsoever to do with my chronology but which satisfied my body and made me feel more healthy. As of last night, I was in the camp that running at all today would be a bad idea, since it felt suspiciously as though my cough was moving down into my chest, but when I woke this morning, I felt so much better that I decided I’d feel worse if I didn’t run than if I did.

Not that I’m not coughing now. I don’t think I’m coughing more than I would have been had I stayed in, and then I would have been coughing and restless. Ah, life is a balancing act.

I have seven more years before I turn forty. Forty is a significant-sounding number; seven is strong, too. Maybe I’m thinking of the wrong thing, here. This birthday contains its own numerological message, encoded just for number geeks, to keep looking ahead. The good stuff is still to come. Everybody got their seatbelts fastened?

Happy birthday to me! Cake’s on the house! I’m partial to red velvet today, with cream cheese frosting, but as long as it’s quality stuff, eat up!

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This is so hard. On the one hand, we were so thrilled to have them here, and it feels like we were just hanging out yesterday. Saying goodbye at the end of the evening, though, is like having a scab knocked off a wound that is still nearly as painful as the day it was earned. I want them here, where I can call up and say, “Hey, what are you guys up to tomorrow?” And she can say, “Morning’s free; want to hit the playground?” And we won’t even have to say which playground, because we’ll have our places and our routines, and all discussion will be redundant. I want Sam to have his buddy here, not seven hours away; they, too, were playing together as though they do it every day.

Augh! It just kills me. (More pictures over at Flickr.)

Then today, I woke up feeling a bit out of sorts; Sam kept waking up from nightmares about every fifteen minutes all night, and I found myself running a bit of a fever. By church’s end, I felt a little better, so I decided to go take care of some residual aching in my legs from yesterday’s run. Hopped on the bike and rode down to Kenosha. It was a gorgeous day, with sunshine and warmth; I took off my jacket and actually wore just a tank top for most of the ride. By the lake, there were huge crowds of folks, biking and walking and just enjoying summer’s last surprise hurrah. All told, I did just under 25 miles, which might be about my distance cap at the moment; for the first time, I actually felt tired when I hopped off the bike at the end. Good; now I know what to shoot for to improve there.

And exhaustion helps with the sad feelings.

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Eric’s home! It was so very awesome to have him with me to watch the debate last night, not finding myself having to alternately yell at the TV (“Mom? Who are you talking to?”) or mutter into my drink. Now, if only he didn’t have to work late for a while, we’d be in heaven. Oh, but my MOPS group is offering a date night on Friday! Ostensibly, it’s so we can go watch Kirk Cameron in “Fireproof,” but I’m far more tempted by the idea of getting dolled up and going to the new seafood place that opened up, with the fancy, completely child-unfriendly menu. Woo! Of course, I can’t get Eric on the phone, as he’s probably in meetings, but that’s what I intend to suggest when he finally does call me back… (I know, Ange, I know. But I haven’t seen my husband in so long, and I want to be able to talk to him instead of sitting next to him in the dark! If I promise to rent the movie later, is that okay? )

Oh, and Alysia’s in the state! She’s on vacation, and they’re going to drive back through here this weekend! I’m happy dancing all over the place.

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Last night, after dinner (Mango Tandoori Chicken pizza; I was in heaven), we went to the top of the John Hancock building for drinks. I’m not afraid of heights, but elevators…eep. So barreling up 96 stories in an express elevator left me prancing from foot to foot, gripping the hand rails, and praying that the shuddering we were feeling would please end soon. Our ears popped from the speed we traveled. (Going down, it was even worse.) But the view was incredible. That picture was actually taken from the women’s bathroom; we knew it was going to be a good view from there because of the number of people, men and women both, traipsing in and out of the bathroom door to look at it. I love big cities, and this is the sort of thing that reinforces that for me. Anybody want to watch my kids so Eric and I can go down together sometime?

All in all, it was an absolute blast. I’m so happy I got to go down for it! Very much thanks to Heidi for coordinating. And to Kelly (and Sean), I mean it: have fun. Well, keep having fun, and never, ever stop.

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Two 880-yard repeats in, the sky over head was pitch black. It was dark anyway, but this was horror movie dark; I expected to see the sky split and start raining fire on the earth or something. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and, perversely, I started to feel more interested in the run. Should I turn back? I was aimed right at the path of the cloud. Wasn’t likely that I’d be able to outrun it anyway…keep going!

Another 880, and it was sprinkling. A fourth, and it was pouring. The few distant lightning strikes that had barely registered in my peripheral vision earlier had begun to demand attention, cracking nearer and nearer. But I was no longer grouchy or reluctant at all. There’s something about running in the rain – something indescribably primal. I’m not talking about the light sprinkles that are enjoyable on a practical level, cooling you off and washing away sweat. That’s easy to understand. This, the downpour that soaks you to the bone, isn’t practical at all. It’s just fun! I leapt over puddles, cackling; my feet squelched in my shoes from blasting through the puddles that were too wide to be jumpable.

The lightning finally put a halt to my fun, as it got too close for me to feel safe. I cut a mile off my planned distance, and I’ll make up for it later. I don’t feel disappointed, though, which is something unusual by itself. But how could I feel disappointed when I had such a good time? That storm was the best thing that could have happened today. I’m still grinning.

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Today at church, running kept popping into my head. Not unusual, but it was so fitting! At one point, our pastor delivered a quote, for which my notes unfortunately lack an attribution: “Today may not be pleasant, easy, or even pain-free. But it is the only day you have.” The idea, of course, is that the past is gone and the future is uncertain, but we should rejoice in the present. For me, I found myself musing on how it related to running. Today, I did a quick three miles, which I didn’t much enjoy but which I did as part of a program to lead me to greater distance. But the truth is that I have no guarantee of ever running again. It’s possible that the worst could happen tonight, and those three miles could be the last I ever run. Conversely, once they’re gone, they, like the ten I did yesterday, are unchangeable and unable to be improved or redone. Instead of “getting through” them, I could have been focusing on every step and prizing them as much as I do my long runs, relishing them for what they are.

Later in the sermon, the paster quoted Reverend Gene Appel:

We sing, make a joyful noise unto the Lord, while our faces reflect the sadness of one who has just buried a rich aunt who left everything to her pregnant hamster.

I laughed and recalled how Bob Schwartz joked about how people are driven away from running by the grimaced expressions of agony on the faces of runners who profess to be loving what they’re doing. Dean Karnazes wrote that an old coach of his told him that if it (running) felt good, he was doing it wrong, because it was supposed to hurt. Of course, pushing ever harder is part of the challenge, but I think both Dean and Gene understand that struggling doesn’t equate with misery.

As the sermon ended, the pastor remarked that joy can come from “abiding with God.” Eric whispered that we use that phrase a lot in the church, but the details of “how” are often left unspoken. I whispered back, “Well, how’s this? I’ve been translating everything through running – ” (he rolled his eyes and nodded) ” – but if you took out ‘running’ and put in ‘God,’ I bet that would work.” And you know what? I bet it would.

I need to get some rest tonight; my throat has been aching since last night, and I don’t want this to turn into something long and drawn-out. If I’m feeling well enough to run tomorrow, and I hope I will, you can bet I’ll be thinking of it in a different light.

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(No, before anybody says it, I’m not pregnant. Much more mundane than that.)

More writings later. Must go enjoy family!

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Yesterday could not have rocked any harder. Impossible.

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Love to see them disappear altogether, since we’re having friends for lunch and would like to use the grill, but looking good for race time!

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I was looking at some nice dresses, and I fell in love with a cotton (washable, even!) strapless one at The Limited. Have I mentioned before that being able to shop in that store at all is sort of a milestone for me and very special for some reason? Yeah, I know. But it also was 20% off… Anyway, I thought I might be a little overdressed in that one, so while I was debating dressing it down a little with a little shrug, I called Eric and had him check with one of the women going with us to see what she’s wearing.

“Nothing special,” she said, “and definitely not a dress or skirt, since the party room we’re getting might have us sitting cross-legged on the floor.”

So. No strapless dress from The Limited for me. I found a nice, inexpensive black top and some pants to go with it, and I’ll look good, but I’m bummed anyway. Somebody please tell me that I have no real use for a strapless dress in the first place, okay?

EDIT: Eric emails, “GO. NOW. AND. BUY. THE. DRESS. DO IT. OBEY!

I’ll take you out somewhere fancy in it.”

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After the act, the magician gave me his card and then said we could fill out a slip to win a free magic show in a drawing later that night. Well, we won! I’m tickled pink over it, even though I’m sure that it may come with a complimentary pitch for insurance or savings accounts (he’s with the Modern Woodmen). Hey, we might just look into some of his offers, at that! But the main thing, the magic show, will be terrific, and I’m trying to come up with ways to possibly work it as an event for the family club, which the magician said would be fine. I’m getting together with him this morning to hammer out a few details. Would be really nice if we could work it so it coincides with the Safety Fair we’re organizing, but we’ll see.

In other news, we spontaneously decided to pick up a (heavily discounted) sand and water table last night. The sand box built into the bottom of the boys’ elevated playhouse has no lid, and we haven’t ever managed to come up with a feasible solution for it, so it’s really gross. I’d like to just board the thing up or remove it somehow – maybe put a picnic table under there for them instead. This table will be a good compromise; the kids played with it in the living room last night (without sand or water), and they love it already, though it’s a smidge “young” for Sam.

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I’m a pinball wizard, apparently.

(...)
Read the rest of Forgiven, and then some (375 words)

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The package deals all look pretty sweet. On the other hand, I could mix and match. What to do? Thoughts?

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Carrie,
Grandma A. is very proud of you. This is a small token from her to show you that.

Awwwww.

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