25 July 2013


In October of 2010, I ran a marathon.  There had been a half marathon a year or two before that I loved.  The marathon was long, hard, and I did not love it past mile 15.  At the end of that race I felt hungry, tired, and very sick of running.  I swore never to run another one of those again.

Flash forward.  It is July 2013.  For three years now I have struggled to get back into being 'a runner.'  Running and I have had a touch and go relationship.  I want to be a runner.  I love everything about being a runner.  Except, for awhile, running.  Admittedly I was not as well prepared as I should be for the marathon.  Also, no one should ever train for a marathon during an Arizona summer.  And really, no one should train for a marathon without a real understanding of what exactly you are undertaking, which I decidedly did not have.  And 26.2 miles is a long way to run by yourself.  But anyways, that marathon almost broke me.  Add moving a few times, a new country, experiencing winter for the first time, and a baby in there too and I suppose it is almost understandable why my running self seemed to have gone into permanent hibernation.  Lately though, there'd been some good efforts, bordering on regular runs, the itch was showing peeks of reemerging.

Then Saturday.  I was roped into a race.  A mile race.  That start line was full of nerves and jitters and thoughts of "what in the heck am I doing?"  The first lap was torture, pure unadulterated awfulness.  I cursed every step.  I debated quitting, but I am not a quitter.  It didn't help that I had no watch and no way to pace myself and took that first lap at a sub-6 minute mile pace, ugh.  The second lap was minutely better.  My feet started to find a rhythm.  I remembered to ease my breathing, let everything relax.  That third lap I was ready for.  I went on the hunt, started to pass those pesky people right in front of me, and felt the competitive fire burning in my blood.  And the last lap?  It was heaven.  I pushed, I strained, I ran.  Each footstep was freedom, fire, and oh did I want to win.  Suddenly, there was the finish line.  Already?!  I was just getting going, I needed a few more miles!

And with that, I'm back.  This girl is a runner again.
Some of my recent runs.

12 July 2013

How to Inherit a Homing Pigeon

1. Find a lost homing pigeon wandering in a nearby industrial estate, clearly clueless and about to get run over by some big truck.

2. Take pity on that lost homing pigeon.

3. Catch aforementioned pigeon and bring him home.

4. Go through three different boxes because the pigeon keeps spilling his water dish and getting bumped by the door.  Eventually end up with quite a large box sitting on your kitchen counter.

5. Feed this pigeon unpopped popcorn kernels after much internet research on what to feed homing pigeons.

6. Track down his owner and get the guidance, "Just feed and water him, then let him go!"

7.  Follow this advice.

8. Be discussing this strange life happening several hours later with visiting friends when the homing pigeon 'homes' in and flies in your open window and onto your kitchen windowsill.

I love that I have a husband who would take pity on a pigeon.  It shows how big his heart is.  And I'm pretty sure this homing pigeon isn't ever going to make it back to Ashington.  (P.S. His name is Duck.)

09 July 2013

I love this excuse.

We've been out.  Outside.  Lots.  Not on the computer.  Hooray!   So here's a picture of today.  A little note about how Mili loves outside so much, she cries every time you bring her in (I'm serious).  And a little celebration - again - that summer decided to show up this year.

Oh the whiteness of English babies...

02 July 2013

Perks of Being First

When you are the first grandbaby on both sides AND the first great grandbaby for three of the four sets of grandparents, you get a bit spoiled.  In good ways.  This was taken back in January, but here is my little Mili Kay with a little bit of history - all of her great grandmas and grandmas and mama.

Baby girl, you have got a real legacy.  This picture can't tell you how amazing all of these women are.  And they all love you absolutely to bits.