Creative Explosions!

The girl is busy! There has been a virtual EXPLOSION of CREATIVTY for Lucy over the past few weeks. If she isn't drawing she is writing a song or a story. Is she's not doing that, she is playing the keyboard or singing. She is a busy body!

I especially love her pictures these days. Lately, people have been enhanced with earrings, bows, eyelashes and fingers (things that had not yet been recognized even a mere 2 months ago). I love that her pictures are always happy and cheerful, with smiling Lucy's and Tommy's throughout.

And STARS! She can now make stars and couldn't WAIT to tell "Lily and Olivia and Maddie and Alaia and all those girls" ALL about it. Ahhh the 5 year old girls....the love is LARGE and hugging and "BFF-ing" and the "See you tomorrow's" are almost too much for me to take. Makes me smile on a daily basis.

It is so fun watching her grow and grow and GROW! I wish I could keep all this art forever but her 25-year old self would think I was a nut bag for saving that much. Oh wait, this blog will make her want to hide in a hole as well.
Sorry, Luce! I love you, kid! :)

The Nicest Boy I Know...

Tomma: "I have something to tell you guys...we had music today and Miss Sherri's class came in our room too! Her class was really enjoying it...."

Tomma: "Mom? I want to give you my "being good" stickers at school because you are such a good mom" (while kissing me and putting them on my sweater).

Why is he so ridiculous all the time?

What I Will Remember...

Then where does the power come from, to see the race to its end? From within.- Eric Liddle


Numb toes and chattering lips in the 9 minute coral area with John. One hour of nervous laughs.

My confidence in the whole thing, as a first timer. I believe it was due simply to the hours I had put into training and trusting the process.

How the first mile was the fastest mile of my life.

How it didn't seem that crowded for some reason.

How much I loved running past Pasta Bowl, Lincoln Park Zoo, BoysTown, Wrigleyville, Miranda's old apartment, Harry Carey's, Armitage, and all the old places I had spent time in 1998.

That it was pretty quiet and smelled like Starbucks a lot of the time.

Singing Elvis, singing drag queens and dancing men with wooden guns and tight shorts.

Getting unusually sore legs at mile 12 and getting a little worried.

Getting really sore legs at mile 18 and trying to ignore it.

Seeing the Mile 20 sign and realizing, this is no joke. Here we go.

Separating from John at Mile 22 and feeling really alone but then realizing, this is how it should be. Perhaps all along, I was preparing to do this last stretch by myself.

Eminem, Coldplay and Black Eyed Peas, I could NOT have done it without you.

Seeing the Finish Line and feeling like I could barely move my body forward.

Feeling more stunned and shocked when it was over. The happy and accomplished feeling came the next day, for some reason.

Loving every painful minute of the whole thing...

Here I Go...

Well, in four days, I am off and running. It has been quite a year for me. I trained all winter/spring for the Fifth Third Riverbank Run. After bronchitis, mass flooding around the city the week of the race, and a new, uphill course, I survived. I remember thinking that day, as I ran for the finish line - "How in the HELL am I going to run 10.2 miles MORE than I have just run?"

Fast forward five months later and here we sit. In the back of my mind, since I ran my first 10K three summers ago, I thought I might have a marathon in me. It's been on my "Bucket List" since then and I am excited and pumped to make this happen.

I am well trained. I am a resourceful girl, so I recruited friends to join me for 5 miles here, 10 miles there. But for the most part, I have done this alone.

Dark, rainy parking lot meet-ups from friends were greeted with relief many a Saturday morning. A happy distraction and good conversation for the next 45 minutes.

Leaving at 6 a.m. to avoid the heat in August.

Wanting to eat eggs and bacon and sit with my family on the couch but getting out there, clipping on that ridiculous water belt and doing it one. more. time.

Passing on one more beer or glass of wine on a Friday night. Leaving early from places I was having fun.

Hailing that cab to Grant Park on Sunday morning, I know it will all be worth it. In my mind, the true marathon is really arriving at the starting line, with all your training behind you. Arriving with a healthy body is another goal attained. One that I should be ESPECIALLY grateful for, since many of my friends have struggled with injuries and the like.

My ipod is full of new songs, the weather looks cool, and I am writing my name with permanent marker on my long sleeve wicking shirt so random strangers will cheer my name.

I am ready to run 26.2 miles in Chicago on Sunday morning.

Holy crap. Wish me luck!