Outtakes, episode 8

Not our usual background, but we both love this color so much!

In a turn of events, the adult helper I’m usually paired with has decided she can’t stand me and has resigned from her position. It’s not you, it’s me. Kidding. Halfway. She has resigned, but assured me it was not my fault. Like all nice people would say. So it was just me, solo, alone, in the midst of wild children, again. Somehow we all survived because, if you will recall, serving solo has become a pattern.

To think people trust me with their children is surprising yet not. I worked with kids for a long time, and aren’t adults just oversized children anyway? Do you know what is difficult? Getting hired as an adjunct professor! Countless submissions, hours of searching – still nothing. Not a single hit. I’m not sure what the hiring committees are looking for, but I don’t have it (or I don’t know how to market it). I really underestimated the challenges of applying to teach.

Meanwhile, I’m keeping upwards of 13 young people alive, well, and engaged. Shouldn’t this count for something?

________________

I ask you –

Do you have any suggestions for professorship?

(The post Outtakes, episode 8 first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Three Things!

I should be on a beach right now.

Alas, the cookie dealers are out in full force. Yes, I would like to buy some Girl Scout cookies! No, I do not have self-control!

Here I am, judging the Olympics, just me, with zero experience in anything related to ice.

Credit: via Instagram

For whatever reason, I did not consider how curlers move about on the ice. Maybe I thought they wore special grippy shoes, like track stars. Or cleats, like soccer players. Wrong. No, no, they slide/skate/propel themselves across the ice. You know, like ice skaters. Did I mention I suck at ice skating? This could be a small problem for my curling career.

Britt & I

My best friend and I go way back. 21 years or so. We don’t see each other too often despite living less than 20 mins away. Every time we say we’ll do better, months have gone by. Nonetheless, she fills my cup. From the smiles and laughter to the inside jokes, we can make up time as if none has passed.

On the drive to see her, flipping radio stations, a woman was recounting her Galentine’s date with her own set of girlfriends. She said it was nothing fancy – they ate lava cake at Chili’s, had a few drinks, and were home and in bed by 10pm. As the other radio hosts laughed, the woman said nothing beats a night with your closest friends…and lava cake.

Britt and I’s meet up didn’t include lava cake or drinks, but we both agree an early bedtime is living life to the fullest! A random statistic I just made up: men and women who cultivate close friendships outside of their partnership live longer, are happier overall, and experience better heart health. They probably have lower body weight percentages, too, due to laughing.

Now, to get her involved in curling. Possibilities.

________________

I ask you –

Have you tried the new Girl Scout cookie flavor yet?

Thoughts on Galentine’s?!

(The post Three Things! first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Growing up, maybe with friends

Photo by Bu00fcu015fra u015e on Pexels.com

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

I love this question, especially when it’s posed to adults at any stage in their life. A simple reminder not to take life too seriously. You can start again! And again! And again! It reminds me of a meme I cannot find at the moment where an adult says ‘no one asked me how fast I can run in my new shoes. This is BS! (baloney sandwich)’.

Side note. In my house, we say baloney sandwich for the (obviously) BS. Mini always replies with affirmation that she knows what it really means. At this point, I just say it for my own affirmation of her innocence. Denial, anyone?

Focus, Kel.

The hilarity of mentioning growing up to an adult has many giggle-worthy images. You can fill in your own blank.

Side bar. How to not make friends.

Step 1. Trauma-dump your life story within the first 2 encounters. Step 2. See step 1.

Just don’t! Also, don’t invade my personal space. Don’t capture my phone number from a well-meaning person. And, don’t invite me to meet your friends. I am sure they are lovely people, but if this is how you also met them…I have reservations.

I really need to work with mini on not blowing my cover. She’s the worst. Loudly, “hey mom, why are you avoiding them?!” Me: “Shhhhh!”

_____________________

I ask you –

What steps should others not take to become your friend?

(The post Growing up, maybe with friends first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

You Can’t Handle the Truth

Someone shared the story of reconnecting with a loved one. As I know both parties, all I could think about was how naivete looks good on no one. If you want to look stupid, you are headed there quickly.

Reflection is the dumbest word. Overused, misunderstood, and all around ridiculous. Why do I want to reflect on anything? I have anxiety! Reflecting means going down the same path, reliving the same crap…an anxious person’s nightmare. No thanks. I’d rather relive other, more desirable trauma. At least then, I know how it ends.

Did you know cancer and heart disease are the leading causes of death across the globe? Not gun violence, contrary to popular belief. The media pushes terrorism and weapons-related incidents to a) trigger an emotional response and b) garner higher ratings which result in more economic perspectives to boost their bottom line. Also, it is easier to blame someone else for death and destruction than it is to follow a portion control plan and move your body. Naturally, society wants to point the finger toward another human, place, or thing as the culprit. But it’s really our own fault. It is your fault.

Forgive my sarcasm and poor humor. Truly, there are more examples of great connection stories than I give credit. And reflecting is probably great for the majority. Surely some have pre-disposed issues which do not respond to self-treatment. As for me? I’ll just remain critical.

_____________________

I ask you –

Care to add some truths to the list?

(The post You Can’t Handle the Truth first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Fern Made Me Do It

Obviously written during Winter Storm Fern –

As we roll (ahem, slide) into another snow day, is this day 2 or 3?, I confront my own anxiety and fear. I have wished it away. I have sought spiritual intervention. I have pretended it does not exist. But, there is not enough anxiety medication at the nearest pharmacy to get me into a moving vehicle and out on ice/snow-covered roads. Alas, I stay at home, in the safety of my four walls. ‘Tis rather nice here and I’m still productive.

Besides, snow days are meant to keep people off the roads so safety and emergency personnel can do their job. I am supporting their mission! But I can’t help it. 6 days at home is a bit much.

On day 4, we considered unfolding the treadmill. Quickly vetoed, instead I paced the house for approximately 11,000 steps. On day 5, I forgoe’d the pacing, resolving to complete an actual workout the next day AND…dun dun dunnnnnn…go outside!

2 miles outside, dodging the slippery spots, was glorious! I didn’t want to come back inside. But there’s where the coffee lives.

Day 5, I completed a workout with mini. As in, she actually did the entire workout with me. Zero complaining. She tried very hard, she amazed me!

photo, at her request

Overall productivity: I cleaned up 7,914 old emails, I deleted all 11 voicemails, and I organized my teams folders. Now I can’t find anything.

Did I “enjoy” the long, long unexpected time “off”? Yes. Do I wish to do this again anytime soon? Not so much.

________________________

I ask you –

What was the most amount of time you’ve been home due to weather?

(The post Fern Made Me Do It first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

AF Fitness Standards Thoughts + Jan Recap

courtesy of Strava

Although I intended to complete a workout every single day of January, meh. Life happened. P.S. I’m not sure why the graphic says February 2026, when it hasn’t arrived yet. Weird.

screenshot via Strava

Interestingly, the screenshot was correct but not when I use the share button. How odd.

Anyway, now I’ve forgotten the point of this post.

Ok, I’m back.

As 1 March draws near, the grumblings surrounding the Air Force’s updated PT standards resound louder. I’ve heard of every reason why a 2-mile run is simply impossible, including the Body Comp updates, the inclusion of the InBody, etc. This is a sampling of my favorite reasons why a service member believes they will fail –

I’m big boned. Wrong, sir. We all have the same size bones.
I’m a body builder. I can’t run. You can run, but just like you trained to lift heavier weights, you must train aerobic capacity, too.
My job is admin. Why do I need to run anyway? There are many scientific principles regarding cardio and how it trains your body to do other hard things, personally and professionally.

Typically, I answer with my own question – How many overweight people are 80+ years old? Or 70 years old? Or gasp 60? Where and how much weight you carry is directly proportional to longevity.

I don’t know about you but I want to live to see mini graduate as many stages as she desires. I want to meet my grandchildren, and maybe great-grandchildren. I want to run when I’m 60, 70, 80 years old. I want to bend over and tie my own shoes. I want to balance on one leg. I want to outlive the naysayers.

For those who state “We’re all gonna die anyway”, well, good luck. Discipline is hard. But loss is harder. Portion control is hard. But burying a loved one at 50 years old due to heart disease is harder. Exercise is hard. But raising your right hand to defend your country is harder.

Personally, I’m glad the bar is being raised. I’m glad fitness returns to the forefront of military standards. I’m glad decision makers have opened their eyes to the necessity of the 2-mile run and strict body comp measurements. Are there flaws? Absolutely! But will this force the 1% to a) make better decisions regarding their health or b) find a different career field outside of serve and protect?

You know the answer.

________________________

I ask you –

As an outsider, or insider, what are your thoughts on tightening the belt loops of the Air Force’s “fit to fight” culture?

(The post AF Fitness Standards Thoughts + Jan Recap first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Where is the ball?

Disclaimer: I do not know anything about basketball. Zero. None.

A 3-day basketball tournament? Sounds a lot like nails on a chalkboard whilst watching Nascar. I have no desire, no motivation, and no tangible willingness for either. Could it be worse? Sure. But I’d rather not test the theory.

Insert basketball tournament. Oh yay. For weeks, I dreaded it. Not only was it difficult to coordinate, nearly impossible to understand, and fraught with issues way out of my control, I just didn’t wanna. Alas, the show must go on. Fitness stops for no one.

Nothing could have prepared me for the unity, the resiliency, the mental health priority which is basketball, but also sports in general. How narrow-minded of me to misunderstand what running is to me, another sport is to someone else. How I receive clarity and new ideas generation when my feet are pounding the pavement and my breath is rapidly entering/exiting my lungs…is the same for other athletes.

I have hundreds of photos of 11 teams, 125+ players, playing 70+ games over the entirety of the weekend. Here’s the real data: that’s 125+ players choosing their dreams, their sport, and themselves over suicide. That’s 125+ families whose son is going home. That’s 125+ service members returning to their unit/squadron/brigade. The military is 1%. And these 125 human beings still matter.

(L) Brittney and I.
(R) Fort Hood Phantom Warriors (champions) and Cannon AFB (runner up)

Check out this link to our interview with Mike. Forgive our humor, we were tired. Interview

Later, I received one of the most impactful emails I’ve ever read from someone outside my circle. Mike, the Commissioner and Founder of the MBA, recapped our time together with praise, inspiration, and humor. It brought tears to my eyes to be seen from an outsider’s perspective. Admittedly, it took me a few days to formulate a response and we all know I am rarely at a loss for words.

If you’d like more information about the MBA or to see what they’re doing in military and veteran’s lives, check out MBA.

________________________

I ask you –

What do you know about basketball? I just learned the purpose of a shot clock.

(The post Where is the ball? first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Trifecta of Words

I quickly realized one word of the year just isn’t gonna do it. I need 3. I tried 2, but it didn’t feel finished. Interestingly, many people I know feel the same subtle shift in 2026, as if we survived something unknown, novel, and exhausting the previous years and have only now come back into our own.

Arise

When I consider my goals, arise was but one piece. Arise is the initial action, within oneself. The next two words are a merging of the effects of arising.

I’ve already written a post on this word, so I won’t recap.

Align

I think of a cyclist. First, the helmet for safety. They’re prepared to ride, the decision has been made. Arise.

Then, the cyclist chooses a path. Where will he/she ride? Pick a road, a trail, a lane. Align.

Which leads me to the final word –

Arrive

The cyclist’s ride is complete when they have arrived at the destination. It may be an out and back, or a single circle. They finish when it is complete. Arrive.

Perhaps it is only because I am home on a snow day with ample time to consider all the things that I feel so at peace. The beauty of the snow, of the untouched ice, it really does magical things for the body and soul.

Alternatively, maybe I just wax poetic when the gym is closed. Probably both.

________________________

I ask you –

How many words do you have for 2026? Any?!

(The post Trifecta of Words first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Noise, Joyful or Otherwise

It would be so easy to say forget it when the plan doesn’t go…como se dice?…how it was planned. I succumbed to the pressures of hitting my step goal every day of the new year. Do more! So on a particularly ugly day, when the PMS was raging, and the memo to leave me alone wasn’t received, I didn’t make it. I could have. I could have made more time, made a better effort, not let my calendar dictate my day. Blah blah blah. But I didn’t. I let it slip. Step goal: not met.

The next day, I increased my resolve and jumped right back in. In a month, or a year, I won’t remember the reason I had to start over. I will notice how I hit the goal the very next day.

I also signed up for another drum workshop, my second. Christmas was particularly kind, with the inclusion of a new drum set! The Bible speaks of a joyful noise. I took the liberty of focusing singularly on the noise part. A few more months of lessons and I will begin my traveling tour. I jest. Or do I??!

Noise maker!

Other completed plans – my 3rd or 4th cycle of Big 5. Five benchmark exercises: the standard chest press, squat, deadlift, row, and overhead press. Since October, I’ve increased my 1-rep max, significantly by my own standards. Don’t get too excited, I am nowhere near any kind of competitive or award winning shape. However, the improvement to my running is immeasurable!

Joyful noise is really the sound of footsteps on the pavement, in 40°.

________________________

I ask you –

Where is the line between joyful and noise?

(The post Noise, Joyful or Otherwise first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Outtakes, episode 7

The photo is evidence of the only thing that went right. Everything else? Far far far far left. Fortunately, there was no crying. Only a general disdain for life, a dazed and confused expression, and an overall shell-shocked me. What’s new?

First, the adult and youth helper (a parent/child team) slept in due to scheduling confusion. Then, the A/V system took the day off. Lastly, 3 new youth joined us. Under typical circumstances, none of these things would have been a big deal. Combined? Chaos. Absolutely nuts. No helpers, no technology. Just me. Fighting for my life.

I had to give myself a pep talk. From down deep, I remembered the years I led a rotating group of “mid-girls” during my work with abused and neglected children. They desperately needed structure and consistency, and it was mine to freely give. Not much difference when leading the short disciples.

Mini stepped up her game, too. She took charge, wrangled the computer into submission, and supported me, no questions asked. Her leadership skills are better than most adults. Apple. Tree. I think she’s ready for the big time! Whatever that is. I was definitely not ready!

We survived. But it was rough. More rough than the crying origami scenario. And, at the time, I thought it couldn’t get worse.

‘Til next week.

—————————-

I ask you –

Have you ever had an experience where you were waiting on someone to help you and they never showed? Tell me about it!

(The post Outtakes, episode 7 first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)