Why walk when you can run?! Fall brings about the desire to be outside at all costs.
A lovely thought came my way whilst preparing for a trip: when I’m motivated, nothing can match my drive to get something done; when I’m procrastinating, I rival the laziest sloth ever encountered and I will f- around until the last possible moment. Truth be told.
Thankfully this blog isn’t on the lesser end of the spectrum. In all this time I haven’t adopted an Eyore voice of “poor pitiful me, I have to work on the blog”. I’m truly excited to do it. I make time even if it is Sunday afternoon when I publish Monday morning. Like clockwork, it’s there. To be genuinely excited about something someone else may see as a ‘have to’ instead of a ‘want to’ is fascinating to me. Grocery shopping: have to. Blog: want to.
picking leaves
Running is also in the category of want to, but I will confess sometimes it’s a have to. As in, have to for my sanity and the continuation of not going to prison. You know, details! Running and blogging have some similarities, really. They’re both solo sports. Although there are elements of other people interaction, the brunt of them happen where motivation and drive meet. Not to say I don’t rely on my readers, coach, race manager, etc. Nothing wrong with having individual goals; in fact, it is quite welcomed.
As is the norm, my plans are riddled with speed bumps. An injury, an expected race cancellation, just the regular things. They seem to happen at random, but I’m not convinced. Perhaps it’s a voice telling me to slow down. Nevertheless, I continue making plans, even if they may be reworked time and again.
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I ask you –
On a scale of 1 to you’ve got to be kidding, how would you rank your motivation?
Do you have any prison stories? PG only, please. Weak stomach here.
Name some things you have to do and some you want to do.
Would it surprise you if I said I have tons of photos of my beautiful great aunt and adorable mini both in the kitchen and at the piano?
This past year has me spending more time with these incredible women than ever before. I couldn’t be happier. Not only are they strong, but also insanely funny! This time I’m the apple. In several weeks, hopefully, I’ll have an opportunity to update these photos with another brave woman.
The holidays are tough for me so I make no excuse for shying away from people during this time. However, as the years progress, it becomes more clear I must take steps to preserve our family history. Relying on others to participate and/or step up hasn’t done me any favors. If you want something done right, do it yourself.
In the meantime, I continue to listen to stories of days gone by, smiling at the far off look she gets when the memory comes back to her. Thus far, we’ve read handwritten letters my grandfather wrote to her before he deployed from Camp Lejeune on his way to a Purple Heart, as well as had long discussions about the state of her fattened squirrel population. Nothing is off the table, literally and figuratively.
Advice given to me: share every opportunity you can with those who came before you. The stories will live on in your voice.
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I ask you –
Do you have a relative you are closest to?
How often do you receive cards or letters from loved ones?
Surely no matter where you live you’ve been privy to the song that goes something like this…”the stars at night are big and bright deep in the heart of Texas.” Bonus points if you sing it. Double bonus if you hear it in Sheldon Cooper’s voice complete with hand clap.
Anyway, nevermind my (lack of) singing skills. The big reveal is an update to my race plans! Didn’t see that coming, did you? Rock ‘n Roll San Antonio is still happening, from my understanding, but I quite possibly found something better. Introducing The Stars at Night Half also in San Antonio and just 2 weeks later than the RnR.
Bigger in Texas!
Upon discovery, I quickly notified my childhood friend and we equally, excitedly, committed ourselves to this new race instead. Not only does it give us a few extra weeks of training, but also a picturesque view of the beautiful JW Marriot Resort and Spa.
coursework
And there will be Christmas lights! And it’s a night run!! Bucket list! And my sweet, (not so) little girl will be able to be there! And…and…and!
I’m a little bit excited. You can find me under the stars! And if it’s cloudy or raining or whatever else gets thrown at us, I’ll be smiling anyway.
__________________
I ask you –
Are you familiar with Sheldon Cooper?
Name a few things on your bucket list!
Hopefully I haven’t been too annoying with my seemingly constant change of plans lately.
When I’m here I remember what peace actually feels like: leaves falling, long, winding, dirt roads, and a stillness that speaks to my heart.
dirt and dust
This is the part of my life I willfully hide yet am trapped inside. Still working on that book; there’s so many twists and turns I’m half afraid a publisher may encourage me to separate it into two. But what a problem to have, right?
aptly named the white house
My childhood home – now reduced to overgrowth and rotting wood. When I look at this photo, I think of the movie Titanic. In many scenes, they show a type of flashback where the beautiful, newly painted stair case transforms into the vision of what the researchers found at the bottom of the sea. My mind’s eye paints a picture of a home with children inside and a grandfather clock chiming. Memories, the most nostalgic.
I don’t recognize any of the vehicles that pass me while out walking, but I feel my heart beating and know I belong. Still.
miles of roads
Passed down from my grandfather, a gift I hope will always keep on giving. I’ve renamed this land Kel’s Corner though family will know it always as Uncle Pete’s Place. I am blessed beyond measure to own this little slice of my past.
heaven on earth
Speaking of slices, my great Aunt Mary Catherine’s blueberry pie is legendary. Although I have the recipe, there’s no comparison. Nothing will ever be like hers. If I could have one wish, it would be to epitomize a fraction of the woman, baker, mother, friend, and God-loving aunt she is to me.
As for that pie? No, I didn’t share.
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I ask you –
Did you grow up in the city or country?
Do you revisit your childhood home? (provided you don’t currently live in it)
Fun fact: I once won a contest with a story I had written about my Aunt MC. She tells me she still has it.
An outdated magazine, some safety scissors, and a glue stick bought me almost 1 whole hour of quiet time.
practice and perfect and all that
In hopes she’ll be sleeping in her own bed before she starts college, the transition to a sleeping bag might very well be the ticket! All jokes aside, it doesn’t bother me. She can sleep beside me forever. Hello, small heater!
my kind of night
When I asked mini what girls do on a girl’s night, she stated “watch movies and eat!” Her very own words. So popcorn for her – the salty – and brownie for me – the sweet. We each ate the whole bowl, respectively. Girl code.
best pals
If you ever expect to hear a full story without mention of an animal, you’re asking too much. She has a deep love for all four-legged creatures. And the ones that don’t. I respect her disregard for people’s behavior, but her innate ability to ask why creatures do what they do. Sadly, I rarely have answers.
Story of my life.
______________________
I ask you –
Really. What’s the difference between scissors and safety scissors?
Did you sleep with your parent(s) until you were older? No, my sister and brother and I slept in the same room (until age 7ish) but each had our ownbeds.
At the time of this writing, there’s a good chance of snow. In October. In Texas. Because why not, right? Amongst the millions of other things I don’t understand about this year, now the weather has decided to participate, too. Lovely.
Don’t get me wrong…I love snow! It’s beautiful and serene and innocent. My question is this: if it snows in October, what does that mean for the winter months? Is this our one and done? Does it revert back to summer in February? Apparently I have more than 1 question. And let’s not forget my newfound fear of motor vehicles + snow. “Yes, boss, I’ll be sitting this day/week/month out. You can find me on my couch. Ta-ta.”
Patient for 0.37 seconds
In related news, for informational purposes only, we shared the possibility of snow with my mini. Cue the excitement. However, she got her days mixed up and awoke before 6am to partake in the flurry activities. Unfortunately for her, she was about a week too early and was mucho disappointed when no snow adorned the sidewalk. It was 65° outside that particular morning. Ah the life.
looks slippery
Sometimes I attempt to keep up with worldly news sources and find myself on a strange path into the weird underworld. And then sometimes I find gems, like the one that mentioned how virtual learning would result in zero snow days and the art of the snow day would eventually disappear. I’m truly devastated. Though my child is still a wee bit too young to go to school, I want her to experience snow days! But as a parent I also can see why parents may cringe when faced with children staying home mid-week. Either way, snow days are a staple and I may have to champion a cause to “bring back the snow day” even for those utilizing virtual school. In fact, adults should have mandatory snow days, too. We could all use some childlike joy.
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I ask you –
Does the weather do crazy things where you live?
How often does snow come super early?
I’m accepting bets on what time mini will wake up the next time snow is mentioned.
Lately I’ve fully realized I’m just not as smart as I originally believed. Fine. I said it. You know I read these mystery/thriller/murder-ish books. Michael Connelly is my favorite. But even after reading nearly all of them, I can never peg the correct killer. I’m always surprised and tell myself ‘you should’ve seen that!’ Ugh. I’m pretty dumb to be so smart.
Nanners (MIL, from the flower collecting generation) calls it “murder porn” and she’s obsessed. Pointed look in your direction. Somehow she always knows who did it, why, and how they almost got away with it. Me? Never. I never get it right! Kel, you suck at this game.
Maybe I just get lost in the details. Oh yeah, that’s it. And I’m very particular about the details which is a hiccup in the whodunnit tales. If they’re gory, nope. If they’re overly heinous, double nope. I can’t even watch a fish being cut up, why would I think a person would be excusable.
On second thought, perhaps this is a blessing in disguise. I’m always surprised at the end! Those of you who have already guessed correctly? Where’s the fun in that?! So what you got it right. Good for you! Me? Ehhh. I’ll be over here shaking my head at the preposterousness.
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I ask you –
Do you typically guess who the killer is before it’s revealed?
Where did I go wrong?
Fun fact: I always wanted to work in the criminal justice field.
Anyone else feel like October is running them over? Oh great, it’s just me.
my version of Bridges of Madison County
Maybe it’s the change in weather – love! – or the promise of new races – or not – or the upcoming UFC battles – we call them debates – or all the activities I somehow committed to – what were you thinking, Kel? Probably a small bit of them all. Either way, I’m tired and we’ve only just begun.
I’ve packed my calendar to the very edge of its sanity and mine; now I’m having second thoughts. It can be tough keeping the same momentum there was when I first said ‘I’ll do it!’
Now I sit here in the quiet stillness of the morning, drinking liquid joy (have you tried vodka in a coffee cup? recommend!), evaluating the schedule in front of me. Quickly I remind myself to be thankful I’m able to have this moment before the whirlwind that is my mini awakes and off we go again.
And I hear a whisper. There’s some new wine in the cabinet.
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I ask you –
Is October a gear up or gear down month for you?
Do you have a habit of overextending yourself?
Funny thing is I rarely drink. It’s just fun to make jokes about it.
Indeed I love sharing my plans on this platform. However, I’m always afraid of what could happen once I post it here: what if I fall short, what if I decide not to do it, what if this, what if that. Who cares, at least you tried. If all else fails, at least it’s the final day of September and what more could go wrong this year?
Fall makes me excited! There’s pumpkins and cooler weather and races and lots of coffee. Thanksgiving, leaves falling, no more mosquitoes, and extra blankets. Shall I continue? No matter how basic you may think I am, fall is hands down the best season.
Notably this fall I am not racing; however, I will be training for a race early December. Surely I’ve mentioned it, ohhhh, 5 times. December is winter, not fall, no matter where you live. Except on the other side of the globe. I made my race plan, consulted with no one, and intend to dig deep for approximately 8 weeks. It’s not long. Could be my demise. So we’re just gonna wing it!
Morning? Night? Same view
While everyone else is soaking up the final hours of daylight, I’ll either be lacing up for a post-work run or going to bed early to capitalize on an AM run before the world wakes up and ‘needs things from me’.
Bring on the gloves! It sucks when my fingers are cold.
One day I will regret sharing so much on a public platform. But it won’t be today! First and foremost, I must warn you about the following. Some may find it entirely too revealing, others may gasp in shock. Still you may even laugh uncontrollably. Just remember, you’ve been warned.
I say again…
As most of you know by now, I have a toddler daughter. She’s incredible in every way, bright, ambitious, caring, and, notably, funnier than I am (which is saying something). Affectionately referred to here as Mini Me, or Mini, the stories she tells will soon be infamous. But, for now, allow me to share a few she doesn’t usually remember and a few she may never want to see in print. Most revolve around feminine-specific issues; again, I warned you.
Before having children, one never considers the amount or type of questions they may be asked as said children blossom into adulthood. Being female and having a female child, I was confident I’d know what to say. Although I was a little taken aback at having to explain to males, in great detail, how to care for a young lady’s needs. Extending grace and all that, I took it in stride. Until the day my twonager yanked on my tampon string. To be frankly clear, it was inside my body! The yell of shock emitted from my lips served to reinforce how hilarious the situation was as Mini began to laugh hysterically and chase me around the bathroom. Assumedly to repeat the action. Because when there’s a string, what’s the harm in pulling it, right?!
Fast forward to age three. Pretty sure her third year of life was the most eventful. Digging in a cabinet, I find what I’m looking for and move onward with the day. As I approach the kitchen, the tiny light of my life asks “Mommy, what you doin’ with those? Those your running sticks?” Before I go any further, can we all appreciate how creative this is?! I run, therefore tampons must be considered running sticks. From now on, I will refer to them as such. Glass half full, you know.
– when in Rome –
Biological differences notwithstanding, I wasn’t quite sure what to say, or how much to explain, when implored to show her how to pee whilst standing up. This was definitely not in the brochure. Believing I had done the best I could with an explanation of ‘we’re not designed that way’ and that was the end of it, time went on without mention. Then life came back to haunt me. Apparently she didn’t believe it couldn’t be done because she had clearly seen the male figures around her be successful at exactly what she wanted to do. I applaud her dedication to cause. Upon returning home from work one day, the following story was shared with me –
paraphrasing : she entered the kitchen sans undergarments and shorts; when asked where her clothes had gone, she explained they had gotten wet when she went to potty. Probably seeing the look of confusion, she further explained she had also used a towel to clean the bathroom floor. More questions later, she proceeded to demonstrate how she forward-faced the toilet and attempted to pee standing up “like you do, Papa”. Perhaps I suck at truly sharing why we can do some things but not others.
For sake of space and what little sanity is remaining, I shall allow you to draw your own conclusions. Why do we not share stories like these with other generations? Do we deem them embarrassing or otherwise? Why? Hello, natural parts of life.
Personally I think we aren’t doing ourselves any favors by not being forthcoming with others. At least in all those books they give us at the hospital. You know, when it’s too damn late anyway.
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I ask you –
Did I scare you off with the many warning signs?
I’m curious how males raise their sons – did you give lessons on potty training or just let them go for it?
Running on Fumes 
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