Raising Cane

Last night, the boys and I decorated our Christmas tree. Steve and I were actually planning on doing it after Jack went to bed, but we decided to go for it and involve the wee maniac for the first time. I'm so glad we did.

For weeks, Jack has been fascinated by candy canes. He looks for them in decorations and keeps mentioning that he'd like Santa to bring him one in his stocking. So as you can imagine, he was psyched that his job was to put them on the tree.



He took his job very seriously. While Steve and I put up the rest of the ornaments, Jack concentrated on the canes.



The result was that our tree was covered in candy canes, but only as high as Jack can reach. In fact, he caned the utter hell out of a few patches, leaving the rest a bit more sparse.



When we were finally all done, I turned off the lights and moved Jack's table in front of the tree so we could all have a bedtime snack together. It looked beautiful.



I told several of my friends about this, and they all asked the same question: are we going to leave the tree as Jack decorated it, or wait until he's asleep and fix it? To me, there's no doubt - I'm leaving the candy canes where they are. If I spread them out around the tree, it would look more picture perfect. But it wouldn't make me smile the way it does now.

I am a (shiver) runner!

Without a doubt, the experience of training for, then running a marathon has changed me. In the past, even in my most devoted running times, the second the weather got cold, I'd go right ahead and slack off. I'd pretty much hibernate all winter.

Last night, it was freaking cold outside, but I bundled up and I went running. I hate the idea of running indoors (whether it's on a treadmill or indoor track), and if I have to buy a crazy amount of technical keep-you-warm gear, then that's what I will do, by Yoda!

Brrr!

Thankful

Hi, Internet. I am back from a trip to visit my dad for Thanksgiving. It was a great mini vacation, and I am - you guessed it - thankful for a lot of things.

- That this year, we only had to drive six hours for Thanksgiving dinner. We did not have to spend two days driving like we did last year (apparently after having smoked a whole lot of crack). We also didn't have to get up at the crack of dawn, drive to the airport, lug the suitcase, car seat, stroller, and kid onto the shuttle bus, then wait in line at the ticket counter, then wait in line at security, then take a shuttle to our gate, then fly to one airport, then another because we couldn't get a direct flight. Then get our luggage, then go to the rental car counter, then lug all of our stuff to the shuttle bus to the rental car place, then install the car seat, then load up the rental car, then drive two hours to FINALLY get to my dad's house. I am really damned thankful I didn't have to do all of that crap.

- That, at the halfway point, there is an exit where you can find all in one parking lot, a Shell station, a McDonald's, and a Starbucks. I swear, that place is a little slice of heaven.

- That this year, unlike in years past, Jack was actually willing to sleep.

- That we live so much closer to my dad and Vickie that Jack actually knows them and is excited about visiting them. He did well in the car, but for the last 20 minutes, he got antsy. This he displayed by kicking the back of the seat and saying, "Where is Mawmaw and Papa's house?" It's slightly more charming than it sounds, really.

- That Jack was so excited about the prospect of spending an afternoon walking around the lake with my dad looking for snakes that Steve and I were able to spend an afternoon Christmas shopping.

- That Jack is now old enough to see a family movie. We saw Enchanted, and if you have a heart in your body and a brain in your head, get to the movie theater pronto and see it. It's fantastic.

- That this year, we do not have Jack's surgery looming in the near future like we did last year.

- That Jack is now old enough that we don't have to watch him every second for fear he will launch himself into the fireplace. And that he is happy to play with his cousins, giving us a moment's peace.

- That Jack can play independently for long enough that we could unload the car. Granted, this came at a price. In the short amount of time it took for Steve to take one load of stuff out of the car and for me to pee, Jack emptied every single toy out of his toy bins and onto the floor. It was an unholy mess. He then found our shopping bags and started shoving his toys in random order into them. Why? Because he was one of Santa's elves, and he was getting things ready for the sliegh. It should also be added that Jack should be thankful that he is so cute, or this would have been a lot more annoying than it was.

Santa, Baby

Santa Claus mania is reaching a fever pitch at Stately Wasser Manor.

We have visited three mall Santas so far - no pictures yet, just a quick chat for Jack to remind Santa that he has been a good boy and would like "some Star Wars guys" for Christmas.

He'll sing "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town" to himself, looks for Santa decorations everywhere we go, and requests Christmas books just about every night before bed.

Jack also likes to pretend to be Santa Claus. Sometimes, I'm Mrs. Claus, and I read letters so he can guess who they are from. Such as:

Dear Santa,
I have been a very good boy. I rescued Princess Leia, then blew up the Death Star. I am working very hard at Jedi training with Yoda. For Christmas this year, I would like a spaceship and a new robot hand.


Jack excitedly yells, "LUKE!"

Dear Santa,
I have not been very good this year. I had Han Solo frozen in carbonite and I tried to feed Luke to the rancor. I dressed Princess Leia in a humiliating costume and licked her face. Then I tried to feed Luke, Han, and Chewbacca to the Sarlac. For Chrismtas this year, I would like a new sail barge.

Jack will then fill in, "Love, Jabba."

Jack also likes to be Santa while I am a little kid (often, I am assigned the role of Jack). I tell Santa I have been good, then ask for a toy. Santa-Jack goes over to his toy bins and brings me what I want, often adding addtional toys because I have been so good.

So, imagine my delight when I went to pick up Jack at my mom's house last night to discover him wearing a Santa Suit. He was so pleased with himself. He wanted to wear his outfit when we went to Lowe's, and I figured why not? If you're a little kid, you totally have license to leave the house looking batshit crazy. Of course, it being Jack, he had to crank the crazy up a couple of notches by deciding that he was not Santa, but rather Peter Pan. "My red suit can pretend to be green" was his logic.

The fun continued when Jack discovered that his Santa jacket was fastened only with velcro. He ripped that sucker off with the vigor of a stripper in a room full of singles and announced, "I'm dancing naked! Mommy, come watch!"

Race Report: Living History Farms

Oh, my gosh, Internet. That was so much fun!

The Living History Farms race is really not a race as it is a fun run. The atmosphere before the race could only be described as a party. Costumes abound: pirates, bees, Disney princesses, men in drag, a guy wearing nothing but a loincloth, superheroes, people wearing regular running clothes, but with a tutu, homemade Dunder Mifflin Fun Run shirts. Everyone was there to have a good time.

I'd also describe this as more of a fun run because, thanks to the number of people out there and some pretty small paths, there were parts where I couldn't have run if I wanted to. Any ideas about race pace were out the window; it was all about going out and having a good time.

I actually ran into a couple of people I knew while I was running - hi, Amy! Hi, Kent! That added to the festive air of the day.

Amy took a picture of me. It's before the first mile, so I'm looking fresh and clean:


The first few miles were pretty standard for a trail run. I was actually starting to feel a bit warm in my sweatshirt, pants, and hat. But then, jumping into the very first icy cold creek suddenly made me quite comfortable, albeit a bit swampy in my shoes. I crawled my way up the creek bed, looked down, and saw that my race number was completely covered in mud!

The rest of the race was a similar adventure. I climbed over giant piles of compost, leaped over logs, used trees for leverage, and jumped into creek after creek. There were hills that were so steep and so muddy that had it not been for the two ropes, I don't know how I would have climbed them.

At about the five mile mark, runners had to make a decision. One path was longer, but easier. The second was shorter, but harder. That's what she said. Anyway, I went with short and hard. I'd come all that way - might as well get my money's worth. I'm glad I did, because it was just so much fun.

I finished with a time of 1:33:46, a whopping 1,495th place, 162nd for my age group. I'm sure I could have run faster, since I had a ton of energy left when it was over, but that really wasn't the point.

Post race, there were piles and piles of doughnuts, the finest I have ever eaten, despite the fact that I discovered there was dirt in my mouth. There was also the entertainment that came in when it was time to change clothes. My sweatshirt was a muddy mess. My pants were caked in mud, especially the butt, since I found it effective to slide into some of the creeks. My formerly white socks are still grey, no matter how many times I've washed them. I wore my marathon shoes and threw them away after the race. They were shot anyway, and this allowed me to give them a warrior's funeral.

Without a doubt, I will run this non-race again. I hope there are pictures!

You Take the Good, You Take the Bad

Bad:
One of my big toes has spontaneously decided to start shedding its nail. What the hell, people? It's not like I've been running that much. It's really annoying.

Also, I hate to even talk about it, but my right knee is giving me a hard time. It's nothing I can't live with, but I'd hate for it to get worse.

My allergies are causing me to have ridiculous sneezing fits every single morning. Usually while I'm driving. It is totally hot.

Jack can be completely exasperating sometimes. Dude, I do not want to have ANOTHER lightsaber battle-fight. And can I please have my spatulas back? And on Saturday, he illustrated the fact that he was not hungry by throwing his exotic lunch of chicken nuggets and tater tots on the floor. Total dick move.

Good:
All of these running maladies are definitely not going to keep me from running the Living History Farms run, especially after Amy's post about it. Seriously, how awesome does that sound? I canont wait.

Steve and I are going out tomorrow night. Yes, on a Wednesday! Yes, without Jack! To an event that promises to be so much fun that I am willing to overlook the fact that it conflicts with the premiere of Project Runway.

This morning, I told Jack that I needed to go upstairs to get dressed. He said, "Okay, but first, I need to whisper something in your ear. Just one second." He then clambered up onto the couch, pulled my head down to his, and whispered, "I love you."

Seriously, you can keep my toenail if this is the kind of thing I can get in return.

Race Report- Hawk Hustle

I think that, no matter how many road races I run, and no matter how much time I've spent on the track, my heart will always belong to cross country. So I was totally psyched to see that on a free Saturday morning I could run the Hawk Hustle, a 4 mile cross country race.

With just 123 runners, this was the smallest race I've been in (high school meets aside), and the atmosphere was really laid back. People milled around before the race started, and we all kind of made our way to the start in time. And rather than having a gun go off, one of the organizers just yelled, "Go!"

Before the race started, I'd thought about my goals. I like the way that Kent gives himself gold, silver, and bronze goals. So, I was thinking this:

Gold - 36:00
Bronze - 40:00
Silver - Anywhere in between!

But as soon as the race started, I ammended those goals. The course? Really freaking tough, people. Up hills, down hills, small ones, big ones. Tree branches to dodge. I was working my ass off. And I didn't get any splits, so I really had no idea how I was doing. I just decided to go as hard as I could and enjoy the effort.

Imagine my surprise when I crossed the finish line in 36:57! I'm going to call that a Gold finish, especially given that the course was a lot more difficult than I anticipated.

Oh, and the after-party featured free cookies and sandwiches. All in all, a great way to spend a Saturday. I'll definitely add this race into my annual calendar.

Woo hoo!

I just discovered a 4 mile cross country race tomorrow! It includes "rolling hills" and free sandwiches. Steve and Jack were going out tomorrow morning without me anyway, so I am so there!

Yay for an unexpected race!

I Laugh In the Face of Pain

For a long time, thanks to a bad experience, I was really afraid of needles. Just the idea of getting a shot or an IV or something had me feeling faint. Although I've watched the movie Pulp Fiction a billion times, I have never actually watched the scene where they give Uma Thurman the shot in her chest, because I was too busy cowering with my hands over my eyes.

But things change, and the idea of pain is really not something that scares me. Steve suggested that I get a flu shot this year, to help protect Jack. I didn't give it a second thought - called the doctor's office and had them book one for me. It did kind of hurt, and my arm is a bit sore. But so what?

I ran 26.2 miles. You think some little needle is going to scare me? It'll be over in a lot less time and will hurt a lot less when it's over.

And, before that, I found myself thinking, "A marathon? Eh, I could do that." After all, it'd be over a lot faster than the three days I spent with labor contractions. Recovery seems like it'd be easier than having my body cut in half to remove a giant kid. And after it was over, I was able to sleep like a rock right away, not after 13 months of interrupted sleep.

Not Just an Excuse to Post a Picture of My Boyfriend Ewan...

Jack: Draw Obi-Wan.
Me: Okay.
Jack: No! Draw Ben instead.
Me: Obi-Wan and Ben are the same guy.
Jack: No, I want Ben. Not Obi-Wan.
Me: They’re the same guy.
Jack: ….
Me: Okay, what’s your name?
Jack: Luke.
Me: Um, when you’re not being Luke, what’s your name?
Jack: Jack!
Me: But sometimes, I also call you Cub, right?
Jack: Yeah.
Me: So, your name is Jack, but sometimes you’re called Cub. It’s like that with him – his name is Obi-Wan, but he’s sometimes called Ben.
Jack: …
Me: I just blew your mind, didn’t I?
Jack: Yeah.

Marathon Mamas

Paula Radcliffe kicks so much heiner, you guys. She holds the women's world record in the marathon, and she just won the New York City Marathon... and she has a 9-month old baby.

That blows my mind. Yet another reason for me to feel proud when Paula is the one who talks to me on my Nike +. I like her so much better than Lance Armstrong. I mean, Lance is an elite athlete (oddly, dating an Olsen at the moment), but he's not a runner. If I were riding my bike, I'd be happy to hear from him, but since I'm not, he needs to pipe down so Paula can tell me that I've just completed another 500 kilometers or what have you.

I also have to admit a certain amount of pride in the fact that my marathon time was about half an hour faster than Katie Holmes'. Maybe it's because I wore a bra.

Fun Runs

I'm still adjusting to my post-marathon running life. It seems really weird to be able to run whatever distance I feel like, to let my schedule and mood dictate.

Usually on weekends during training, I'd take Saturday off and do my long run on Sunday. This weekend, I opted to run on both days. Neither was a long distance, but both of them proved challenging.

Today, I did a run I've been itching to do for a while. I drove to Blackhawk State Park and found some trails to run on. It was a beautiful fall day, cool but not too cold, with a perfect breeze to rustle the leaves in the trees. It was quiet, and hardly anyone was out on the trails.

It sounds idyllic, doesn't it? Well, it was, but holy Yoda in the swamp, was it tough! I was constantly up and down steep hills, racing over rickety wooden footbridges, dodging big rocks, and hurdling over fallen tree branches. It was not easy... but it was fun!

Yesterday's run should have been an easy one. I did one of my simple, flat, neighborhood three miles. A great recovery run, one I could probably do in my sleep. The difference is that this time around, I took Jack with me in the jogging stroller. I believe I was pushing at least 40 pounds of Cub and stroller, which made me realize that there are inclines on that route that I'd never noticed before!

But again, it was cool. Jack kept up a steady stream of chatter, noting houses with pumpkins in front of them, remembering where we went trick or treating, and occasionally singing "Pupmky Pumpkin" to me. Every once in a while, he'd also just turn around and grin at me.

Jack informed Steve before we took off, "I going running with Mommy in stroller. And later, I get out of stroller and run with Mommy." Okay, I figured. I can accomodate that. So, we ran as far as the neighborhood park, and I let him out of the stroller so we could run around the baseball diamond together. You can see a huge dip on my Nike + where my pace slowed for that part of my workout.

I hope that I can instill in Jack a love of running. I can't think of a better activity for a fall day like we've had the past few days. When we got home last night, I had to think that he was on that track. He walked into the house, grinned at Steve and said, "That was good run," just like I've done so many times before.

And it was. It was a good run.

Dear Santa...

Jack wrote his very first letter to Santa Claus (I took dictation). Here it is:

Dear Santa,
I have a table. I have some Star Wars guys. I want Ackbar. I don't have Grand Moff Tarkin. I want to get another Rancor. A green one. I want a pen. A necklace - black. I want Mommy in a castle. I want a castle with Mommy. Daddy will get all of the house. I want a bat. Now I want a wall. I have been a good boy. I want a reindeer and an elf and Mrs. Claus and some elves.

Love,
Jack


I am happy to report that Jack later decided that Daddy can live in the castle with us. And Roary. This is good, as I suspect we'd miss Daddy and Roary before too long, castle or no.

No More Pop-Ups

Jack developed a bad habit in the last few weeks of getting up eighty gazillion times during the night. We called them "pop-ups." He'd pop up out of bed, we'd drag him emotionlessly back to bed, Supernanny-style, and he'd stay there for about four seconds, then pop-up again.

Ugh.

I could tell he was tired, and I knew that if he'd just stay in his room, he'd go to sleep. And I'd be able to relax and watch Survivor.

Finally, Steve and I concocted a plan to keep him in his room. We'd give him his big bucket of Star Wars action figures, point out the books in his room, and tell him to just stay there. It worked. No more pop-ups, and although we'd find books and action figures in his bed, he would go to sleep at a fairly reasonable time.

Last night, we heard him moving around upstairs. Then, we heard his door open. But no pop-up. What was that little scamp up to?

Steve went upstairs and discovered Jack sitting in the hallway, reading one of his picture books. Jack explained that he wanted to read, but, "It was dark in my eyes," so he left his room. Steve escorted him back to his room.

On one hand, my feeling about that was, "Go the hell to sleep, Jackson. It's 9:30." On the other hand, I have many memories of reading in bed well past when I was supposed to go to sleep. I'd sneak a flashlight under my pillow, or even just read by the tiny crack of light under my bedroom door.

But you know what? I didn't do that when I was just two years old. My boy is obviously a genius.

How Crazy Am I?

It's funny how my perspective has shifted over the past few months. Our calendar for this week has a really good amount of fun - last night was trick-or-treating, of course, and on Friday night, Steve and I are going on a date. We are going to watch the Quad City Symphony's rehearsal, then go out for dinner (margaritas? tbd).

A few months ago, I would have thought, "Yay, Halloween! Yay, fun date with the husband!"

Now, I still think that, but I also think, "Guess I'm not going running on either of those nights."

The good thing is, this is the time of what Tom at Runner's Lounge has dubbed "ordinary running." That is, I'm not really training for anything specific, just running for the sake of running. Because of that, I am not now thinking, "But if I get up at 5:00, I will have time to get in a medium length run before Jack wakes up and it's time to get ready for work."

I may be crazy, but at least right now, I'm not that crazy.

Also, I am not as crazy as a certain little boy who set up a detailed Jabba's Throne Room diorama on the coffee table this morning and proceeded to dance for Jabba.

Wasstoberfest

Autumn is Steve's favorite season. He is definitely starting to win me over. The boys and I had an amazing weekend, so full of autumn-themed activities it was like something out of a magazine.

Saturday morning, we headed to Boo at the Zoo, an event at nearby Niabi Zoo. Jack donned his Mickey Mouse costume, grabbed his pumpkin bucket, and collected an impressive amount of candy. He was happy not only to get candy, not only to be at the zoo, not only to be Mickey Mouse, but also to see the other kids in their costumes. He kept excitedly yelling, "LOOKIT!" and pointing to a princess, a pirate, a dinosaur, and so on. It was a beautiful day, and it gave Jack the opportunity to hone his skills at saying "Trick or treat" and "Thank you" loud enough for people to hear.

On Sunday morning, Steve somehow convinced the two of us that doing yard work would be fun. He and I took turns mowing the lawn and raking leaves with Jack. Jack participated as any reasonable kid would: by jumping into the leaves. Of course, he gave it his own twist, declaring that he was Han Solo, the leaves were the carbonite freezing chamber, and that I was Princess Leia, there to rescue him.

After that, the three of us went to the Family Museum for their Scarecrow Shenanigans event. Jack iced a sugar cookie and decorated it with M&Ms, practiced the bean bag toss, and decorated a mini pumpkin with googly eyes and pom poms. Then, imagine his delight when he found a little girl dressed like Minnie Mouse! The two of them realized the inherent cuteness of their pairing and spent a lot of time holding hands and hugging.

Today, Steve and I went to the Halloween party at Jack's school. The kids all got dressed up (suprisingly, there were no princesses in his class) and went to the nursing school next door trick or treating. Steve and I got there early and helped the teachers get the kids dressed and entertain the ones already in costume.

If you ever want an ego boost, hang out with a group of toddlers. Basically, if you are willing to be a tiny bit silly, or can make stuffed animals talk, or are willing to draw pictures, or will read a book with just a little bit of inflection, you are a rockstar. Jack was incredibly proud of how fun his mommydaddy were.

All of this, and we still haven't gone trick or treating yet!

Faster Than a Speeding Bullet

I decided yesterday afternoon that if I didn't go running I would probably die. I informed Steve of my fervent desire, and he said fine, so long as I promised to take it easy. I drove home in a state of Christmas-morning like excitement. I passed a group of cross country runners out for practice and wanted to yell out my window to them that I was going running, too!

Three blissful miles later, I was back home, and Steve and Jack were arranged in the Cutest Possible Moment. It was almost like they planned it, a moment I imagine like this...

Steve: Jack, Mommy will be home soon. Let's do something cute to make her happy.
Jack: We could dress up like Muppets.
Steve: Good, but there's no time for that.
Jack: I know! Let's cuddle and read a comic book.

Sure enough, they were snuggled up on the big blue chair reading a Justice League comic. Freaking adorable. And then, when I got out of the shower, Jack was playing with his Superman action figure while Steve made dinner.

I am a lucky woman.

Where Do We Go From Here?

"Where do we go from here?
Where do we go from here?
The battle's done, and we kind of won,
So we sound our victory che-er
Where do we go from here?"
--Buffy the Vampire Slayer, "Once More... With Feeling"

The battle's done, and I kind of won... but what next? I know I'm not the only one thinking it, because today both Bowulf and Ex-Non-Runner Nancy posted about their post-marathon goals.

Training for, then running that marathon has definitely changed me. I have been a runner since I was 10, but there have been some fallow periods. After the many miles and two stress fractures of high school were over, I didn't run much at all until I took running for one of my PE credits in college. Then I mixed it up for a while at the gym. Went on the occasional run with Steve. Did a ton of running when I was unemployed (because Yoda knows I had the time). Then job, pregnancy, baby who didn't sleep through the night until after his first birthday, killer commute - all of that set in, and I didn't run as much as I'd have liked to.

But now? I don't see going through a fallow period ever again. Hell, I ran 26.2 miles just a few days ago, and it is killing me to take off this recovery time. I am even trying to figure out the best cold-weather running gear so that I can keep this going over the winter, avoiding the dreaded treadmill/indoor track for as long as possible.

I am also thinking about my upcoming race calendar and what I want to accomplish in 2008.

First up is the Living History Farms Cross Country Race. Apparently, it involves climbing up muddy hills, trying to jump over creeks, and similar. Hello, how awesome does that sound? I am so there, and that's just next month.

I want to run my first half marathon. A half sounds like a fun race to run. It's long enough to be challenging, but it's not like it's going to kick my ass so hard I have to take the elevator for a few days afterwards. The Quad Cities Distance Classic in May includes a half.

I could not possibly be a runner in the Quad Cities and not run the Bix 7. That's just a great party, has killer hills, and an elite field.

The Dam to Dam 20K sounds intriguing. Gorgeous setting, and an interesting distance to race.

I'll also grab some 5K's where I can find them, and I'll probably brave the horrendous hills of the Firecracker 10K next July 4th.

Then, the big kahuna will be the Quad Cities Marathon in September. I can't resist the hometown course, especially knowing it'll be so much easier for me to get some fan support. It's also a lot flatter than Des Moines, so I bet I can get a PR.

This is going to be fun.

Why I Run

Over 100 training runs
Over 555 miles
Two pair of shoes
Over 55,500 calories burned
all leading up to...

26.2 miles!

That's right, Internet: I did it! And all weekend long, I was reminded of reasons why I run.

• Before the race yesterday morning, a perky blonde lead us through a warm-up. I participated, because what else was I going to do, wander around nervously some more? About 20 seconds into her warm-up, I was reminded that I hate aerobics. The stretches she did made no sense to me and seemed to involve cute poses. And her marching and double-knees and whatnot made me feel like a moron. I cannot get my arms and legs to coordinate to save my life. If I didn't run, I'd have to either do stupid crap like that or not eat cookies.
  And by the way, after the warm-up was done, I plunked down and stretched again, exactly the same way I have been since I was 14. I know what works.



• Runners are some of the nicest people you will ever meet. It was really cool to be able to say hi to Amy and Tom, who set up a really cool Runner's Lounge meeting place. It was great to see their smiling faces both before and after the race. And Non Runner Nancy actually found me during the first mile and came up to say hi. How cool is that? Nancy, I wish we'd been able to hang out more! Next time, okay?
  But even runners who I hadn't "met" before were friendly and easy to talk to. Like the man staying at our hotel who spotted my marathon sweatshirt, the people who struck up conversations with me during the race, and the really funny man wearing a hat that said, "Old and In the Way." By the way, from the looks of that guy, he might have been old, but he sure wasn't in my way. I have a feeling he was way faster than I am.



• What better way is there to see a new city on a beautiful fall day? We lucked into some gorgeous weather. It was probably in the 60s all day long, overcast, and with just the right amount of breeze. The leaves were changing colors, and the course routed us through some really cool places - from downtown Des Moines to an incredibly wealthy neighborhood (I'm not just talking big houses, I'm talking big houses with sculpture collections in front of them), through the neighborhoods of Drake University, along a wooded trail, through a lovely park, around a lake, and back downtown again.



• All of the things I said about how nice runners are goes at least double for volunteers and spectators. Every single volunteer had a smile or word of encouragment for me, and they seemed genuinely happy to help. The people who passed out gummy bears were, I'm fairly certain, angels. There was a volunteer standing somewhere in that wooded trail, the only non-runner I'd seen in miles clanging a cowbell to encourage us along, and let me tell you, I was so happy to see someone, anyone, that I about hugged her. And there were families sitting in front of their houses cheering just as enthusiastically for us mid-packers as they were for the leaders, kids offering up high fives - it was just cool.



• Male marathon runners are sexsay. Hot guy in orange that I followed for much of the race, I salute you. Imagine my shock when I passed him at around the half and he didn't catch me... when, an hour later, he blew past me and was nowhere to be seen, I felt the natural balance of the universe had been restored.



• You can demand that people cheer for you, and they'll actually do it. The last 1.2 miles of the race seemed to go on for-freaking-ever. There was hardly anyone to be seen until about a quarter of a mile away from the finish. I was determined not to stop and walk (and as a bonus, got to pick off some people), but it was not easy. When I finally saw a crowd of people, I yelled, "Give me some love," and they did just that. It's not often that you do something difficult and can actually request applause, but runners can do it.



• On that same note, if you do something really difficult, usually you don't get anything just for getting through it. But after a marathon? You literally do get a medal. I wore mine to work today and am considering wearing it every single day from now on. Okay, maybe not... but I was pretty amused by Jack's reaction to it. He asked me what it was, and after I explained it, he said, "Oh, like Princess Leia gave Luke and Han." So, I guess I should ammend that two difficult things you can do and get a medal are run a marathon or blow up the Death Star.



• My two biggest inspirations in life - my reasons that I can and do run - were right there, cheering me on. I cannot stress how much it means to me that Steve and Jack were there to watch me. For one thing, it helped me think of the race not in terms of, "Only 22 miles to go," but more like, "Only four more miles until I see my boys again." Steve and Jack were there cheering for me at the perfect spots - the 12 mile mark, the 20, and at the finish line. Jack was very serious about holding up his sign and yelling, "Go, Mommy, Go!" and Steve kept yelling that he was proud of me and to stay strong.

I am really proud of how I did. I trained well and fueled well, so at no point did I hit "the wall," and at no point did I think I wouldn't be able to finish it. I'm sure I'll do better next time, and I'm sure there will be a next time... for 26.2 and for lots of other distances.

Revenge of the Jedi

Parts of my childhood were completed consumed by all things Star Wars. I watched the movies over and over again. Memorized dialogue. My brother and I used to fall asleep every night with The Empire Strikes Back playing on a record player in the hallway between our bedrooms. We had all kinds of action figures, ships, toys, and play sets. Return of the Jedi trading cards. Yoda t-shirts. I'd lead Andy and Jenny in Jedi Training just about every day during the summer.

All of this, I'm sure, drove our parents nuts. My grandmother recalls taking Andy and me to see one of the Star Wars movies. While we were standing in line for a movie that Mimi had absolutely no desire to see, one of us commented that this would be the 10th time we'd seen the movie in the theater. She wanted to get in the car and go home right then and there.

And now, the tables have turned. Jack is a full-blown Star Wars maniac. He wants to watch the movies constantly. Play lightsaber "battle-fight." Pretend to be Luke escaping from the Wampa, and I play the roles first of Ghost Obi-Wan, then of Han (including slicing open imaginary tauntaun with his lightsaber). The only books he wants to read are the storybook versions of the movie.

He is amassing an impresive collection of Star Wars toys, and will quickly rattle off the ones that he wants to go look for right now: Boba Fett, the cricket (aka Salacious Crumb), Jabba's best friend (aka Bib Fortuna), the wampa, and so on.

He is, in short, absolutely crazy.

Steve was the exact same way when he was a kid. It could not be more obviousl that we got the correct baby at the hospital.