2011: A Year in Posts.

I've never done this before, but I've been looking back over my year as chronicled on this blog, and I thought it would be fun to spotlight some of the bigger, more pivotal, and even funnier moments in 2011. Because nothing says posterity like a link-fest.

In January, Rohan got a big boy bed to convert his nursery to a big boy room. ::sniff:: The shooting of Congresswoman Giffords and several other people in Tucson hit me hard, but then the beauty of other humans touched me deeply. Luca and I learned how to meet in our dreams and she made my mama heart soar so high. We ended our long love affair with the Brawny Man (and are still going strong a year later!). And my Real Mom self met my Super Mom self in a dark alley.

In February, we lolled about in sunshine for hours on end. Luca drew her first family portrait.

In March, Luca gave me an anatomy lesson to remember and I reflected on how there is no such thing as a perfect mother. Luca continued the trend in potentially uncomfortable car conversations about adult topics by asking how a baby is born. My sunshine boy turned 2. Luca started ballet and reminded me once again how she is wise beyond her years.

In April, I waxed poetic about my mom coming into her own as Grandma. I soaked up some alone time with my kids. I discovered a secret rainbow and talked about Rohan, who is my little wallaby baby (strange enough, this was one of my most popular posts of the year...who knew wallabies were such a hot thing?), and then I bitched a bit about him being SO TWO.

In May I talked about fat thighs and the pressures of raising a girl. Luca turned 4, which still seems too old to be possible, and I showed off my cute carpool buddy. We built forts and took walks with Sleeping Beauty.

In June, I looked back on how much Luca had changed in a year and shared how Rohan potty-trained himself at just over 2 years old. We celebrated Father's Day and the world's most amazing dad. I struggled with whether I will ever be happy in my body (another hot post for the year).

In July, we made the biggest update yet to our house, putting in laminate floors. Luca reminded me that one of the best things a parent can do is not overthink it and then she made sure I told her about how babies are born without skipping any parts.

In August, we took a camping trip to celebrate Darrick's birthday before Luca started preschool (for the second year). I had a big moment at work and made my TV debut on a nighttime public interest show, but almost let it be overshadowed with shame over my appearance. We put making a decision about more kids on the back burner.

In September, I talked life and death and how kids perceive it. Luca and Rohan had their first sleepover with the grandparents. I talked about the sweet spot we're in with a 2 year old and 4 year old. I felt some visceral growing pains realizing that my kids won't need me forever like they need me now.

In October, we said goodbye to Ruby, our beloved dog of over 12 years. I spent my month with a focus on saying nice things. I chopped off about a foot of hair and Luca had her first dentist visit. My husband reminded me why I love him so and I got a nice response to my say nice things-inspired awkward Facebooking.

In November, we recapped Halloween and looked forward to the end of 2011. I started training for my first 5k and realized my ass claps in appreciation, and we showed our own appreciation (for ass clapping and all other things) with our Thankful Wall. I also finally unveiled our new french doors, which were installed in July but not completed until November. I marveled at my husband and his knack for teaching our kids the right lessons without even trying.

In December, I tried to learn how to just say thank you. We spent one weekend on the coast and the next in the snow. I did my first 20 minute training run for the 5k in January. We decked the halls and the giant ass tree for Christmas. I set out in writing some goals for 2012, and then kicked them off right by buying some organization tools and running for 25 minutes straight for the first time in my life.

2 Miles.

Today I broke with tradition and did a daytime run. It's about 70 degrees outside, and sunny as hell, and I felt every degree of that 70 and every drop of sunshine.

Week 6 is complete, and my 25 minute run took me 2 miles. Not exactly speedy, for sure (it was probably a 13 minute mile, since I walked for 5 minutes before I started to run. And 'run' is not exactly accurate, given that pace.

But you know what? I did it. I ran for 25 minutes without stopping. And I logged it on my new favorite website when I got home (mapmyrun.com) so I could see how far I went. And I am damn proud of myself.

---------------------------------------------

I've been struggling for a few months now with trying to follow WW and still live my life. Some days I completely forget to track food. Honestly, having to go on to the WW website and log in meals drives me kind of nuts. It takes longer than I want it to, and I get bored and frustrated.

I'm hoping I found the solution this morning. First, I bought a monthly/weekly planner at Target. I need one anyhow, to keep on top of work meetings and deadlines and appointments. But this planner is also going to be a tool I use to track one of my 2012 goals, running 350 miles. But the planner doesn't have enough space to keep a food journal, so I also got a small 'PlanHer' at Target. It's essentially a small notebook with two columns and a header space up top. I'm using it as a food journal, and also a place where I can write down my runs before I log them officially into my planner for the year. Again, I'm nothing if not an optimist, so here's hoping these tools will help me keep on top of my goals this year.

---------------------------------------------------------

Did I mention I ran 2 miles today???????

Optimism is a Gift.

Optimism is a gift, right? Hope springs eternal and there's a silver lining to every dark cloud and all that, yes?

Which explains why I'm facing 2012 and putting some resolutions and goals out there. In writing. Again. Even though 2011 laughed in the face of my attempts to make resolutions. If I'm being fair, we did start eating healthier foods and cooking more at home, and we rarely went out and spent money on new things, but I wouldn't say I achieved any of the 3 goals I had fully.

But that's not going to stop me from putting myself out there for the next year. I think a new year is a great time to refocus some energy on the things that are important and to remind myself that it's never too late to start over. So without any further ado, here are my goals for 2012:

1. Run my first 5k on my 33rd birthday.

2. Use the savings we're going to have from not having to pay for Rohan to be in daycare (he stays with my mom full time now since our provider moved 2 hours away) to build up our savings and pay down the last of the 2 credit cards we own.

3. Keep running. Or jogging, but whatever. In 2012, I'm making a small running goal I hope I can accomplish. My goal is to log 350 miles of running. It's not a high number of miles, but it's 350 more than I have ever done in any year prior.

4. Spend more time caring for myself. My health. My appearance. Making an effort to dress in clothes that flatter and do my hair so I feel pretty.

5. Spend more one-on-one time with each of my kids. We spend as much time as possible together when we ARE together, but I don't always get much quality time with just one of them. At least once a month, I want to try to do something special with each of them, alone.

6. Spend more one-on-one time with my husband. This past year really screwed us financially. It started with getting a notice from the IRS that we didn't pay a tax on something back in 2009, and now had 30 days to pay it. And then there was the minivan repair that set us back over $1k. Two new tires for each car. Dental surgery. The list goes on and on. What does this have to do with spending time with my husband? Well, when you can't afford a date night, it has everything to do with it. But we both know we need to make a priority out of spending time together without the kids, so in 2012 that's my plan. More date nights. And date afternoons. Maybe even a night or two away without the kids.

So, 2011, see you later, asshole. I'm over you and your shitty luck, natural disasters, financial ruins, and more. I'm ready to welcome 2012.

Week 6.

Week 6 started tonight on the C25K program, and I kicked it off with new running shoes and new ear buds. Not a shabby way to train, really. This week is 3 different routines like last week was, starting with tonight: warm up, 5 minute run/3 minute walk, 8 minute run/3 minute walk, 5 minute run, cool down. Day 2 will be two 10 minute runs with a 5 minute walk between, and Day 3 will be a 25 minute run. Tonight actually wasn't too difficult, which I'm taking as a good sign. I have about 5 weeks before my first 5k, and with just 3 weeks of training left I'm feeling confident I am actually going to be able to do this.

Seriously, 6 weeks ago I was barely running 60 seconds without feeling like I wanted to lay down and cry. And now I'm doing 5-8 minutes without thinking twice. I really cannot get over that.

The next month I'm going to be focused on completing the training and then maintaining the runs so I can get up to 3.2 miles before race day. My focus is also going to be shifting back to how I eat. I've given myself permission to eat whatever I want the past few months, and I know from experience that I won't lose any weight doing that. Even  with running 3 nights a week, the weight isn't melting away like I want it to. This is nothing new to me. My husband is forever trying to convince me that I can eat whatever I want if I just work out regulrarly, and I'll lose the weight. But he's wrong. I've tried that before, and for me it won't work. I know I need to get back on track with eating better along with the exercise. And not just so I can lose weight; so I can feel better and run better and be a healthier woman and wife and mom as well.

Forward Strides.

Christmas is over, and already I'm looking anxiously toward 2012's start. After the challenges of this year, I can't help but think that 2012 will be better. There just doesn't seem to be any other possibility, both for us personally and for the universe as a whole.

I'm thinking about new years and resoultions. I'm thinking how I fell flat this year, weighed down and buried under a world of challenges and struggles. And this year, I'm approaching things a little differently. This year is all about goals. we're working on setting them already, Darrick and I spending many cold, late nights after the kids are in bed talking on the back patio about where our family has been and where we're going next. Jobs. Money. Kids. Home. Health. I'm lucky to be married to someone who I can gaze lovingly at, but who more importantly is excited to face the future with me, both of us looking in the same direction.

I'm ready for 2012. I'm ready for goal setting and goal making and celebrating goals achieved.

Christmas Eve 2011.

The stockings are stuffed. The presents have been delivered by Santa. Cookies were nibbled by the big guy himself, and the reindeer appreciated the apple slices as much as Santa appreciated the note dictated to mommy to leave with the treats.

We even managed two family pictures before tucking some very excited kids into bed tonight.

Before bed, I bathed the kids, put them in their special Christmas jammies (bonus to them being almost the same size is I buy one pack of 2 jammies and they both fit in a pair!), and read them The Night Before Christmas. We've been reading it for a few weeks now, a couple nights a week, and Luca has almost the whole thing memorized. Her favorite is yelling the reindeers' names out*. Mo's favorite part is the last page, which to him seems to say, "Good night good night good night to Merry Christmas all night!".

We tucked them into bed and they quickly fell to sleep, not doubt fatigued from a full day of crafts, junk food, home baked treats, movies, and Christmas excitement. I wrapped the presents and drank a warm drink with a splash or three of Kahlua. I hung the coffee filter snowflakes Luca and I made today all over the tree. Santa made sure to drink some milk and nibble the cookies left on a table by the recliner, and his reindeer no doubt loved the apple slices.

The world is quiet and peaceful right now. I should be in bed, but I'm soaking up the last little bit of pre-Christmas cheer to be had this year. This past week we've all been home together, and while we made an effort to get out of the house to visit family and shop and go out to eat, more often than not we bunkered down with blankets on the floor and Christmas music and movies playing on the TV. We baked cookies. We decorated them, then ate them by the fistful. We made so many crafty ornaments that the only ones hanging on our tree that were not made by the kids are a wedding ornament we received made of blown glass, a Santa ornament Darrick and I bought on our trip to Europe pre-babies, and one I bought at Michael's with 4 snowmen and a handpainted glitter glue script with our names and the year. We glued and glittered and cut and pasted. We made gifts for family. I read 3 books. We made a mess of the house each day and went on a cleaning binge, throwing out 3 bags of trash and donating 4 bags of old toys. We stayed up late and slept in past 6 a.m. This year may have sucked in so many ways, but this week alone more than made amends for all of 2011.

I'll head to bed soon, and before I know it two excited kids will run down the stairs and squeal with excitement to see Santa was here. They will giggle and run in circles, tearing wrapping paper with abandon and playing with new toys. We will eat. We will love on their cousins and spend time with family. It will feel like magic, and because of them, it will BE magic.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

______________________________________

On the topic of reindeer names, a conversation recently in the car:

Luca: "Mommy, which of the reindeer do you want to be?"
Me: "Hmm...maybe Prancer? Prancer sounds happy. What about you?"
Luca: "Vixen!"
Husband: "Not a chance."

I Did It.

Tonight, I finished Week 5 of C25K with a 20 minute run. No breaks to walk. No slowing. No giving up or giving in to the voice telling me that my calves were burning and my lungs were tired and anyways no one would know if I really ran all 20 minutes, would they? I won't lie about it, to myself or anyone else who cares: it sucked. This week's podcast has all 3 days overlapped, so that you download one podcast for 3 completely different runs. At one point, I was almost to the end and all I could think was, "You are so close. Just keep running." And then, on the haedphones came that damn voice saying, "If you're on Day 3, keep going! You have about 4 minutes left." At that moment I was thankful I'd decided to finish the last of the runs at 10:30 at night rather than waiting for tomorrow to do it in the daylight. Because, in the daylight, I would have needed to look around to be sure there were no small children in earshot before exclaiming out loud, to the universe, "Fuck you!"

Oh yeah, I said "Fuck you!" to the podcast. To my legs, on fire and lead-heavy. To Robert Ullrey and running and the universe in general.

But then, there was the moment at the end, when I got to celebrate completing 20 minutes of running. When I walked the neighborhood listening to Mumford and Sons and felt my legs tingling and my heart pumping and my face, flush with sweat. When I said to myself, "Fuck YOU, and your doubting. You did it. YOU did it!"

Five weeks ago, I couldn't even run 90 seconds without feeling like I needed to go home and ice my shins and sleep for 14 hours. Five weeks ago I dreaded every run. Six weeks ago, I wasn't even trying. And now? I did it.

Week 5.

Tonight I started C25K week 5, and as much as it pains me to write this, it wasn't as bad as I'd expected. And maybe...just maybe...I was hoping it would be bad enough to justify quitting? I'm not claiming it was easy by any stretch, but I walked out the door this evening expecting to want to quit, and that never happened.

My week 5 day 1 routine was a 5 minute warm up then 5 running/3 walking/5 running/3 walking/5 running, then a cool down. And while I ran two 5 minute stretches all 3 days last week, doing it 3 times tonight was quite a workout. But I did it, and I didn't struggle nearly as much with it this week as I did last week. I think I actually find the routines with less intervals but longer ones to be a bit easier to manage. Just like with walking, I get into a groove and am not anxiously counting down to when I get to stop or when I have to start again.

This week is unique in that each of the 3 run routines is different. Day 2 will be 8 minutes running and 5 minutes walking, twice. And day 3 is the scary monster at the end of the road with a 20 minute run with no breaks. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't dreading those days, especially the last one. But at the same time I look at where I started, barely able to run more than 60 seconds straight without feeling totally winded and really sore, and I feel amazing and strong.

My coworker and I have talked quite a bit about the struggle to keep going, and the battling voices in our heads while training. The voice that says, "You are a fucking idiot and should just walk home right now, pour yourself some wine, and not get out of bed for the rest of the weekend." is just barely drowned out by the voice that says, "Bitch you are DOING this and you're amazing and you keep those feet RUNNING!" When it comes to motivation, I'm only mildly embarassed to admit that when I'm struggling to finish a run I've said to myself more than once, "You had a baby. In a plastic pool in your living room. If you can go through labor and deliver a human, you can do anything." And then, other times, I zone out on problems or issues I need to work out in my own head and have practice conversations with 'the enemy'. The only problem is that I'm not sure either of these tactics is going to work for 3.2 miles!

I should also note that I haven't weighed myself in 2 weeks. After 3 weeks of running I hadn't lost anything, so I sort of gave up on the scale. I'm giving myself permission to avoid the scale and focus on the non-scale victories until I hit the end of my training program. I'm about halfway through, and as long as I can maintain my routine through the holidays, I'm going to consider it a victory whether I lose weight or not.

But I can't lie: It would be nice if I stepped on the scale at the end of this and saw a loss.

From Surf to Turf in A Week's Time.

The first weekend of December, we celebrated like this:

A few things about these pictures, in no particular order:

~ The green green above is my Grandma's backyard, smack in the middle of not-so-nice LA. And oasis for great grandkids.

~ The beach is Santa Monica

~ It was cold, but during our beach outing the weather was perfect and beautiful

~ Yes, my husband and son went in the water. No, the rest of us did not.

~ Yes, my husband has a black eye. No it's not from me, but from coaching wrestling.

~ Funniest misunderstanding of the trip:  When my aunt asked Darrick about his injury and he said, "I make black guys look good, huh?" And it took all of us about 3 times making him repeat himself before we realized he wasn't being awkwardly racist. "Black EYES. EYES."

~ That matriarchal beauty with my kids is the woman of honor who we traveled to visit: My gramma!

This past weekend, we mixed things up a bit by heading in the other direction:



Notes on these pictures:
~ We cut our tree this yaer just south of Heber. There was about a foot of snow on the ground in most places from a storm during the week.
~ Snow angels are all the rage this year, you know.
~ Also: snowman, complete with charcoal eyes and carrot nose. She left the nose and 'buttons', but insisted we bring home the hat, smile, and eyes.
~ The tree is obscenely large and we love it.
~ We strung white lights and haven't touched the tree since. And we like it that way.

One good thing about Arizona is that we can do this. We can fly to LA one weekend and bask on the beach and love on my grandma, then head up north to tromp in the snow and get cold and drink hot chocolate in the back of my mom's pickup truck the next. I am loving it. I am loving my kids this year and how engaged and excited they are about Christmas.

-----------------------------------------

Post-Script: We hung our stockings from the banister, though we later had to move them to acommodate the tree. Luca pulled out the stockings we had for our dogs and asked about them. I asked what she wanted to do, and she said, "I want to hang them up, mommy. We should try to remember them all the time. I think it's important." And then tonight I was out finishing my last run of C25K and a little mini pinscher dog came running up to me barking. Her elderly owner was waving frantically from the driveway, no doubt afraid I'd freak or get mad. Without thinking, I called out, "Don't worry! I have dogs!". But I don't, and I still miss them. Rest in peace, little loves.

Review Time.

On the topic of avoiding false modesty, I had my review at work this week. I like reviews, in general, because I think they can provide really good feedback and insight into ways to improve, but also because they give me a chance to talk about what I like doing and where I want to go next.

What I don't love about reviews is the process we use for them. I had a pit in my stomach all day on Monday waiting for it to be review time. Reviews at my job are a shared process, with the boss and me both using the same form to evaluate objectives, goals, effectiveness, etc. I do the review first and submit it to my boss, who adds her feedback and scoring, then we meet to discuss.

This is where I confess that in the past I've scored myself modestly. I am not sure why, but even after 5 years with my boss, I struggle to talk myself up and stand up for my work when I have any doubt over how she feels about it. I've always approached reviews as my opportunity to get my boss's feedback on how she thinks I am doing on where she thinks I need to improve. But, in keeping with not feigning modesty when I know I'm kicking ass, I looked at the review as a chance to talk about the things I love and do really well, and also honestly approach the areas where I need to work.

It was scary. Scary as hell. I sat across from my boss in her office and all I could think was "Is she looking at my comments and scores and wondering just who the hell I think I am?"

Turns out, she wasn't. There were a few areas where she wasn't sure how to score me and we needed to talk them through. But it wasn't for a lack of effort or solid work on my part; it was due to the fact that a good portion of the work I do is fairly independent and she is hands-off with those projects. Really, she just needed to hear more about them to gauge how I was doing and what kind of score I deserved. I had to pep-talk myself quite a bit during the review, reminding myself not to undersell the work I do and not to apologize for things that didn't deserve apology. And, honestly? In turn I also found it much easier to talk honestly with her about the areas I know need improvement and what I need from her or others in order to make those improvements a reality.

And? I think she respected my approach more in the end. My boss is a no-bullshit kind of person, so being honest and upfront about the good AND the not-so-good was well received by her and helped us facilitate better conversation about where I am professionally.

The verdict of shaking off false modesty in this case? It was really difficult for me, but in the end I think it was important for me to approach my review as an opportunity to showcase my growth and the great work I do.

First We Learn to Say Thank You. Then We Add Excuses.

When was the last time you paid a woman a compliment and she thanked you? When was the last time she thanked you without then excusing it away?

"You're adorable!" (to the gorgeous and thin pregnant woman)
"Oh gosh...thanks...but no, I'm HUGE! Look at these ankles!" (to me)

"Your son is so sweet to the other kids on the playground.  Kudos to you." (to mom of a 5 year old boy who, I can guess based on society's expectations of little boys, is not used to his behavior being complimented)
"Oh, thank you. Really, he's usually a total terror." (to me)

"I love those shoes!" (another mom at preschool to me)
"Thanks. I got them at Target on clearance for a steal. They are so worn out!" (me, to her)

What's the deal with this phenomenon? And why is it disproportionately women who do this? When's the last time you complimented a man and he responded by deflecting the compliment or excusing it away?

"You look hot." (me, to husband)
"I kind of do, don't I?" (husband, to me, as he checks himself out in the mirror)

Experience tells me that if I compliment another woman, she's going to find a way out of the compliment. It's the clothes that make her look fantastic (nevermind her 5 miles a day, 4 days a week running ritual and healthy eating). She looks good in that purple scarf, but only when she uses a lot of undereye concealor so the scarf doesn't play up the bags under her eyes (nevermind there are no bags and if there are, I wasn't looking for them anyhow). Her kids are only well behaved right now because they're going to Santa later (nevermind the fact that her 5 year old son stopped to make sure my 2 year old was ok when he ran by and accidently knocked my kid down). Cute shoes (but SO uncomfortable!). Love the new haircut (but it only looks like this because her stylist did it for her). She did great on the presentation (it's just too bad that she stuttered and forgot the figures on that one part no one else noticed).

Look, we're all guilty of this to some degree. I can't remember the last time someone said something nice to me and I didn't deflect it or excuse it away. I can't remember the last time someone told me I'm awesome at something and I replied, "Thanks, I really work hard on it." I can't remember the last time I said something nice to another woman and she accepted it graciously with a "Thank you" and then shut the fuck up.

It must stem from somewhere, and if I had to guess I would point my finger at social norms girls face growing up. I know it's not born in most of us, this desire to never ever accept a compliment graciously and freely. I know because I listen to my daughter when someone compliments her. Even at 4.5 years old, she sometimes has to be reminded to thank a person for a kind word, but that's not because she's too busy coming up with ways to pish-posh their kindness. It's because she is too busy agreeing with them.

"Your hair is so pretty." (woman at the store to my daughter)
"Yeah." (my daughter to her)


"Luca, you've been so nice to your brother today." (me, to her)
"Thank you, mommy." (her, to me)


"I just LOVE your artwork. It's so creative!" (grandma, to Lu)
"Thank you. I drew the best apple in class." (her, to grandma)

How do we get back there? How do we return to a time when society and our own insecurities don't hamper our ability to say thanks and just accept the damn compliment? How do we stop ourselves from making excuses for our achievements when what we really should say is, "Yeah, I kicked some ass, huh? Thanks!"

I remember a long time ago, when Darrick and I first got serious together, he chastised me (lovingly) for this very thing. "You say 'sorry' too much," he said. "You shouldn't say sorry all the time. You say it when you mess up, but you also say it when someone else messes up and inconveniences you." And it's true. When I went into a health food store 3 days after Luca was born in search of fenugreek and the woman asked me when I was due, I didn't laugh it off. I didn't give her the evil eye for asking. I didn't even ignore it and ask her to show me the way. What I DID do is look her in the eye and apologize to her for her fuck up. "Oh, I had the baby 3 days ago. Don't worry! I hear it's normal to look pregnant for a while after giving birth!" I said. "Oh, well...yeah..." she stumbled over her words. "Sorry," I replied, "I should have told you she was a newborn and I needed fenugreek to up my milk supply."

Sorry? I should have told you? It's my fault you lack basic social graces and don't know better than to ask a woman when she is due unless she says to you, "I am currently pregnant."?!?!

And the thing is, my daughter hears and remembers everything. I know she is watching me. I know she needs me to model for her what a woman is, and I know that I don't want her to be 'sorry' girl when she gets older. I don't want her to minimize her achievements to make other people feel more comfortable. To talk badly about herself because she thinks she should. Because when you do it for long enough, you start to believe it's true yourself. I look down the line, toward her future, and it crushes me a little. She is a bright light in the world, a wonderful and funny and kind and smart-as-hell girl, and the idea of her one day excusing those parts of herself away until...well...until they GO away? It scares me. I owe her better, and I am unapologetically capable of giving it to her.

So, false modesty? I'm sending you on vacation for a month. I'm going to try something new*: not allowing myself to apologize for someone else's faux pas, not excusing away genuine compliments, and not underselling myself for the sake of modesty.

This next month is Mission: No More False Modesty for me. I invite you to join me. I'll post more as the month goes on.

*No assholery will be accepted during this time. I'm not on a mission to become an egotistical asshole.

Week 4 Begins.

Week 3 finished a little belated thanks to travel and difficult schedules for my husband and me, but by the last run it was definitely feeling manageable. I was even feeling optimistic going into week 4.

And then I did the first run, tonight. It consists of a 5 minute walk to warm up followed by 2 circuits of a 3 minute run/90 second walk then 5 minute run/2.5 minute walk. And it was really, really difficult. I'm not sure if it was the jump from 3 minutes being the long run to 3 minutes being the short one, the shorter recovery walks, or the move from about 9 minutes of running total to 16 minutes. Whatever it was, though, I was definitely dragging and feeling the pain.

The good news is this: I completed the whole thing tonight. The 3 minute runs honestly came pretty easily and I didn't even feel apprehensive about them like I was feeling last week. I might even call them easy. And while in the past I've found the cardio aspect to be the biggest challenge on the runs, this time my cardio felt great. However, my legs were like lead by the end of the first 5 minutes and by the end of the second 5 minute run I was dragging big time.

I'm finding myself alternating between being really proud about my ability to complete each night of training and the dread of what the coming weeks of training will bring. At this point, I can't even imagine running for more than 30 minutes to complete the 5k in January, but on the other hand I couldn't imagine running for 5 straight minutes a month ago either.

I'm not going to give up. I am so happy I have a goal in mind, and thankful to have people in my life who support me and even a few who are putting up with my crazy goal and training right along with me. I just can't wait for this to get easier.

Conversation with a 4 Year Old.

Me: Do you know how much I love you, Luca?Luca: This much! (stretching arms above her head)
Me: Yeah, sweets. That much and so much more. So much I can't stretch my arms that far. I love you enough to fill the universe with love.
Luca: Mommy, do you know how much I love you?
Me: How much?
Luca: More than all the buildings that were ever built and all the babies that were ever in a pregnant mommy's belly.
Me: Wow, that sounds like a lot!
Luca: Yeah.

I get up to leave her in bed, and she calls me back.

Luca: Mommy, how did that happen? How did the oldest first babies get borned? I mean, if there were no other babies yet, where did the first ones come from?
Me: That is an excellent question. And, uh, I'm not sure how to answer. But I bet if I talk to your daddy we can see if together we maybe know the answer.
Luca: Ok. But momma? I bet I know. I bet the dinosaurs laid a bunch of eggs and they had magic in them, and every time a new egg hatched, it was less like a dinosaur and more like a person baby.
Me: ::silence::