Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns
If you think Jesus would have come into your home that day and not issued a strong rebuke to the head of household, you are mistaken. These words of condemnation have been haunting me for days now. They aren’t all that different than the soundtrack I play in my head on an almost-daily basis. It’s…
I am nesting. On Saturday I emptied the refrigerator. Last summer’s homemade pickles in their jars. The bread ends that seem to multiply on every shelf. The eggs. The milk. The fruit and veggies. All of it sat on the floor or the counter as I carefully removed the shelves and wiped them down with…
I’ve heard that life is like a highway. And it definitely seems like that sometimes. The pace of life swirls around me at dizzying speeds. We’re all so busy. In such a hurry. Always somewhere to be, something else to do. I’m a get-to-the-point, get-there-quick kind of girl. I don’t like to waste time on…
Pre-race meal: Chicken carbonara.
We cooked bacon this afternoon. And chicken.
Then, we headed to the Y to pick up our race packets.
It was kind of like Christmas, digging in to see what kinds of goodies we had. 
Water bottle. Snacks. A long-sleeve, running T-shirt. And most importantly, our numbers. I’ll be the one wearing “4”. Phil is “5.”
We have a plan for the morning. Where to drop the runners off. Where to park the car. Where the kids can see us run past. What the kids will do in the meantime till we reach the end.
We’re ready to go.
Here we are, post-rapture.
Kidding, of course.
All that’s left to do is drink some more water, sleep, wake up, dress and head out the door.
Tomorrow, then?
See you on the other side.
Week 9, Day 3. I should have posted this yesterday but the final 3-mile run in our couch to 5K training plan kicked my butt. Could have been the not so great sleep from the night before. Or the 25 mph winds we were running in. Or that I’d been at the grocery store all morning with the kids and thus was on my feet more than usual before a run. Yeah, I’m hoping it was one or all of those things. Phil, on the other hand, said it was his best run yet. He’d only had 2 hours of sleep the night before. He’s half seriously considering that as a strategy for running the 5K. Head in a fog = no pain. I think I’ll choose sleep, thanks.
38 minutes and some change. Running into the wind was a killer.
My encouragement is this: No matter what happens on Saturday, we completed a 9-week running program and can now run 3 miles. Two things I never imagined I would do and enjoy.
It’s been a crazy, wonderful journey and I know it’s not over, per se, but I feel a bit like the Biggest Loser contestants who go home — We’re on our own now to keep up the training.
Thanks for all your encouragement, support and advice through this whole thing. Two more days. I can’t wait.