Running Season, More Coffeehouses and Sunshine


On Friday someone mentioned it was supposed to be sunny all weekend. I checked my weather app, and they were right. It’s hardly spring with temps in the 20s-40s and snow in the forecast, but the sun shining in the sky is a reason to celebrate.

I got up Saturday morning early to get a cup of coffee before my hair appointment. None of the local coffeehouses were open, so I decided to stop by Plank’s at the local inn. I was really pleased at their brunch offering and got an amazing breakfast of avocado, eggs and sweet potato hash. My table was right in front of the fireplace with a lovely view of the river. It was a great, cozy, tasty way to start the weekend.


My internet has been out so I had to go home to wait for AT&T while I cleaned house, worked out on my TRX and cooked dinner. The guy was really nice, and I was very pleasantly surprised that he fixed it with no issues, and it didn’t cost me a dime. I went to bed early with my book club book, The Great Alone. A family in the 70s moved to rural Alaska on a whim, and I can’t wait to see if they will get eaten by a bear. There’s a lot of foreboding about danger and trouble going on. If the bears don’t get them, I expect the Daddy might go off his rocker and anger the locals. I’ll keep you posted.

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I had to do a long run this morning, so I packed up Ashok, and we headed to Kalamazoo to a nature preserve on the Kalamazoo River Valley Trail. It was a beautiful day although it was a tad colder than I expected. I’m lucky my technical shirt had some cuffs I could roll up over my hands. I planned on running 5 miles, but I felt so good at 2.5, I decided to go to 3 and double back for a total of 6. It felt amazing to be out and about and running on a day like today. And I noticed the Kalamazoo Nature Center is hosting a Maple Sugar Festival next weekend. That might be worth a trip!

I’ve started thinking about a running “season” this year now that the snow is melted and we seem to be on the back side of winter. I texted Jessica and hired her to coach me to run two specific races this fall. I want to run my favorite trail/road race of all time, the Mount Baldhead Challenge in September. And I signed up to run the Detroit Free Press International Half Marathon in October. I even had to use my passport to sign up since the race course goes into Canada. Woohoo!!! Now, I just need to train and get in shape. I haven’t run a half marathon since February 2013 in Austin. We’ll see if I can get this body in shape again!

I visited two coffeehouses this weekend. My friend Donna had told me about The Full Circle coffee house (#9) in Stevensville so I stopped there on Saturday. It was a cute little cafe that serves a full breakfast as well as bakery goods and coffee. I opted for a chocolate scone which melted in my mouth. It had the texture of a flaky southern biscuit with a light drizzle of chocolate on top and a spattering of chocolate chips. They serve Infusco coffee, and I grabbed a latte to go. The manager told me it was called Full Circle because it is owned by three friends who grew up together, went on with their lives and then came “full circle” and opened a restaurant  together. The story is almost as cute as the furnishings and the setting in the cafe.


On Sunday, I stopped at Water Street Coffee (#10) in Kalamazoo. It is one of my favorite coffeehouses in that area. I had just run, so I got a Denver omelette strata and a latte made from their own roasted beans. The small place was packed, so I didn’t hang around too long. I noticed they have their own line of teas as well as coffee, local artisan-designed t-shirts and some really amazing coffee mugs. When I have time to browse, I’ll go back for another cup.

I’ve cooked up some beans for meals this week and am going to head to bed to read some more tonight. Now I’ve got races to motivate my running, a blog project that encourages me to explore my area, and a book club to motivate me to read. What’s motivating you to do what you know you want to do? Maybe it’s time you put something in place!

Have a great week, y’all!


My Complicated Relationship: Running


This month, Runner’s World features a story called “The Love of My Life” by Marc Parent. It is, of course, about running. My running coach and soulmate Jessica has always said she has a relationship with running. It made me think about my own relationship with running that has – over the years – become more complicated and much more committed.

I remember when Parent started running. I was a new runner, and he wrote a series that began with him lacing up his running shoes for the first time. He was overweight, out of breath and not necessarily inclined to make running a habit. Every month I couldn’t wait for his dose of humor that more often than not mirrored my own path with running. I remember feeling like a kindred spirit as I watched him do his first 5K, half-marathon and then the beast – the full. I also remember when I started to wonder if he would stop writing the Newbie Chronicles as it was obvious he was a full-fledged, card-carrying runner.


I’ve been running fairly steadily since 2003. In fact, my first short runs were run in February of 2003 on snowy roads in frigid temperatures about 3 miles from where I sit. My ex subscribed to Runner’s World, and I got hooked on the magazine. I had been a runner in my college days but had long since given up the ghost. I finally decided I was going to run when I read a piece about a 60-year-old woman who ran her first marathon. If that old woman can do it, so can I!

My path has had its ups and downs. I got in shape that February by running short intervals that got longer each run. I ran my first non-stop 30 minutes on a path in Maui on vacation that year. A 5K race in 2004 still stands as my 5K personal record. After a move to Memphis in 2006 and a failed attempt at training for a marathon, I sort of gave up on running. I was getting divorced, there was a lot of stress and my body seemed to hate running.

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But my love for running haunted me. I longed to be out on a beautiful day, and I hungered for that exhausted feeling after a good effort. A post-divorce depression intensified, and I sought out help from an acupuncturist. The acupuncture sparked my energy, and I started to run again. Luckily for me I found an amazing group called Memphis in Motion, and that is where I trained for my first full marathon surrounded by like-minded and tenacious beginner runners. I was introduced to the run/walk method which transformed my relationship with running.

I’ve been fairly consistent with running since then except for a hiatus in Louisiana. I kept getting injured, and I finally just quit for awhile. It was too hot. I didn’t enjoy it there, and I could never find a running group that worked. Looking back, I think I was under a lot of stress, and, given the fact that my body hated running when I was going through my divorce, running may not work for me when I’m in extreme stress. That’s okay. I now know the problem, and I can work with that.


Once again last year I longed for the sound of my feet hitting the pavement, and I hired Jessica to slowly coach me back to running the 5K distance. I took it long and slow, and, with her guidance and support, I got back in the game. I started signing up for 5ks once a month, and since August I’ve only missed December. The winter admittedly is causing me issues, but I’m persevering. I plan to run today. I’m allowing myself to keep it short and to dress as warm as I like, but I’m going to get out. Spring awaits, and before you know it, I can run swiftly – for me – on roads unencumbered by ice and snow. This spring, like many before, will include running through the daffodils.


Now that I’m pretty close to that “old woman’s” age, I appreciate the fact that I’ve chosen running as my drug of choice. It has prevented depression, given me reason to vacation, provided a means of touring new places and is a veritable fountain of youth. I know the hunger of not running, and I know the exhilaration of completing a marathon. Running is a gift that keeps on giving. It teaches me about perseverance and commitment and defeat. And while it is a backdrop in the drama I call my life, running gives me wings.

On a Cold Day in Chicago: We Run


I packed my running clothes for the trip to Chicago. The last time I was here, I had a blast running downtown Michigan Avenue. The forecast was cold, but it’s almost never TOO COLD. I just have to dress for it. Last night I looked at the forecasted temps with wind chills below zero. Hmmmm … perhaps that is too cold, I thought. I decided to wait until this morning to make up my mind.


I took Ashok out to do her business right before bedtime, and we walked down on the Riverwalk next to the Chicago River. We had not explored it last time I was here, and I was surprised at how long it was. Bundled up, I felt fine. It made me feel a little less worried about a run this morning. And, I could always turn around and come back if I got too cold. It’s not like I’d be doing a 20-miler anyway.

The temperature shot up to a balmy 12 degrees around 9:30 AM, and I decided to go for it. I bundled Ashok up in her new parka, and I put on 4 layers on top and two layers on bottom. I added a headband, a knit hat, a pair of gloves and some technical mittens over them. I was good to go. I told the doorman goodbye as he opened the doors for us, and we took off on our first Riverwalk run. (So, this is my something new for today!)


The shattered ice in the river sparkled in the sunshine. Glass puzzle pieces bumped up against each other amid the current below. Items like trash, a life preserver ring and even a frozen dead duck were lodged in the frozen soup. Live ducks and geese paddled furiously below the surface keeping some areas liquid. I thought fondly about my days as a birdkeeper in Knoxville when we’d free ducks from the ice when it had frozen around their feet. One of the poor ducks was not so lucky here. He was frozen right as he lay. It made me sad.

We ran out to Navy Pier and then turned back toward the city. Several runners ran past us. It’s Chicago in January. It’s supposed to be cold. I imagine they would have thought it was funny that I even worried about it being too cold this morning. I broke into a sweat beneath my layers, but I didn’t get too overheated. I’d say my layering was just right for the run this morning.


Ashok and I are perched in the window seat of this lovely suite overlooking the Chicago River. The hotel staff here upgraded my room as a birthday present. I had a fabulous hot shower in a shower big enough for four, ate a little after-run snack, and I’m about to head down for a coffeehouse recommendation. Chicago would be a great place to get another coffeehouse or two on my list. One down – 56 to go! I also think I might check out that new movie “The Post”. I plan to keep today somewhat simple. Walk around, enjoy the city, have a few warm drinks, chat with my new friends here at the hotel and sit by the fireplace. I may even snag a bag of Garrett’s popcorn.

Have a great Sunday, y’all! Bundle up. It’s cold everywhere.

Fiction: Almost Given Up


Tara looked at her running shoes on the other side of the room. They look like new but had been in her possession for many months. “There’s nothing like the feel of a new running shoe under my feet,” she thought. It made her smile. She glanced out the window at the road that she had run so many times. Running was freedom. It was a longing and an attempt to maintain forward motion. She loved it.

The Chicago Marathon was less than an hour from starting. Even with the warmth of the 70,000 people around her and the buzz of excitement, she was cold. But she had waited a long time for this. She had trained a long time and through a lot of humid, hot miles. It was her first event of this magnitude, and it would be the highlight of her 40s to finish it.

In fact, her 40s seemed like a marathon. The death of her best friend, a divorce and the loss of the job that she had loved for 15 years knocked her off her pedestal of success. But inside, she felt that she was a better person for it. She’d learned how to ride the waves of grief, reinvent herself and ask for what she wanted. The muscle of her soul felt stronger. She’d chosen the marathon as a way to help her outsides match the badass strength of her insides. Every mile gave her the confidence that she was gaining ground.

Looking up at the condominiums on the other side of the park, she wondered what it was like to live there. Would she want to lug her stuff down 15 floors every morning to go to work? Slogging through snow and ice to catch a train could be an adventure if you looked at it that way. She thought of the empty space in her future where her dreams used to live. Could this be a future she’d love? Her heart jumped a little at the thought of it. She could see herself as a city girl.

The miles slogged on the roads through weather of all kinds was just a metaphor for her life journey. And her shoes lay on the other side of the room, discarded… a reminder of what she hadn’t done more than what she’d accomplished. After the marathon, she’d almost given up on herself. It was a great accomplishment, but it somehow brought on a pause instead of a celebration … a depression instead of joy.

She had wanted that 26-mile journey to be the start of something new. Instead it felt like an ending. It was the hard stop of the life that she had known before with a fist shaken in the face of defeat. The energy it had taken to get there – physically and emotionally – left her depleted. Her much-needed physical rest turned into a surrender to life. The grief was gone, but the hole left by her dreams seemed bottomless. Those almost like-new running shoes lay right where she had left them that day 6 months ago. When you don’t know the next step, who needs shoes?

She looked at the road again. The sound of her footfalls and the sight of her frosty breath on a cold day seemed like a gift. She thought about that morning in Chicago when she was so hopeful and inquisitive about her next steps. “Every journey begins with a single  step,” she whispered. She breathed in a big breath shifting the weight of the depression weighing in on her chest. “Maybe I could start with a walk,” she bargained. “Yes, I think a walk would be good.”


The Underdog: Base Layers of Merino Wool


You can’t see it, but I have my Smartwool base layer on!

The Daily Prompt today is underdog. For some weird reason, the only thing I can wrap my mind around is underwear. Is there an underdog of underwear? Honestly, my base layer I wear when I’m running is sort of like the underdog of my wardrobe. It may not get the audience or attention that my outer layer gets, but it is definitely an unsung hero. With out it, I would freeze. (How’d you like that transition?)

When I took a job as a bird keeper at the Knoxville Zoo, I had to learn how to dress for winter. Much of my day would be spent outside raking up bird poop, washing water bowls and checking on the health of our bird collection. My supervisor told me to get lots of long underwear, and I ordered it from Land’s End. I was astounded at how much difference it made to wear a base layer. I was always toasty warm. But the long underwear in those days was thick cotton or silk. While both had advantages, they are not nearly as nice as the base layers we have today.

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I have a hard time convincing my friends in Louisiana that I don’t get really cold up here.  I dress in layers. These days, I almost always have a merino wool layer next to my skin which keeps me toasty even when wearing skirts. Smartwool makes tights that are cute, soft, warm and very durable. I wore one of about 4 pair almost every day last winter. I’d throw them in the washer and dryer, and they still look great even after a year of constant use. I bought three more pair at the end of the season on clearance.

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I bought Smartwool base layers two years ago for backpacking. Our backpacking teacher said they were the best for sleeping and for wicking moisture on hikes. I wear those things on runs and even for sitting around the house. Occasionally I wear them for sleeping. I could easily use another 2 or 3 pair, but they, too, are expensive. And now I’m salivating about some Smartwool running tights. If I could wear that stuff year round from head to toe, I’d be thrilled. I even have a Smartwool balaclava and neck gaiter!

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Yesterday I ran upon a blog claiming that Merino wool is the hot new technical wear for athletes of all kinds.  Those sheep live in very cold climates but have to suffer through pretty warm summers. So, the wool is very warm but is breathable enough that it’s not too hot when temps rise. This stuff is like a miracle. And, another blogger I follow was laughing at himself because he has never been happier since he paid $25 for a pair of Merino wool cycling socks. Who knew wool was the workhorse of the underwear business?

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Some Days are Just Harder Than Others


My friend Lori sent me this beautiful “hand-warmer” mug as a surprise. I knew I had to run tonight, but I was puddled in the lethargy of a post-Thanksgiving work pot luck lunch. So, I grabbed that beautiful little mug and fixed myself some green chai  laced with my homemade almond milk hoping it would provide a little pep. I read the NYT and sipped my tea until I started thinking that maybe I didn’t really need to run after all. I mean, it’s cold outside. I’m running a 5K on Thanksgiving. I ran a 6-miler on Sunday. I could probably take the day off – it being the holidays and all.

But this face was staring at me……


So I called on my coach to pull me off the bench….


You have two choices for dressing for a run in winter.

  • A) Be warm when you walk out the door and overheat later or
  • B) be cool when you walk out the door and be just right later.

Tonight I opted for Option A because I just didn’t feel like being cold. Thank heavens I did because it was much colder than I anticipated. It was only 37 according to the Weather Channel, but that dadgum wind was fierce. The streets acted like funnels for the wind coming off the lake, and I thought I was going to freeze to death. I slipped my hoodie OVER the hat I had on, and zipped myself up in a cocoon of fleece. But my ass was in the deep freeze! Nothing I could do but RUN!


If I ran down streets that were perpendicular to the lakefront, the wind wasn’t as bad, so I changed routes midway. Once I got out of the wind, my eskimo swaddled upper body started overheating. I took the hood off and stuffed the gloves down my shirt. But my ass was still freezing! Nothing I could do but keep running. Since I was running half mile splits, I figured the faster I ran the faster I would get home and could go sit on my cooktop.

You can see I was motivated….

Faster and faster and faster I ran. Ashok thought we were racing some unknown invisible foe. I ended up right at my house, and I bolted for the front door. Brrrr…. that was a cold one, and it’s not even below freezing yet! I think I’d better figure out a way to insulate the junk in my trunk a little better, or it’s going to be a long winter. (I’m still not totally thawed.)

Have a Happy Thanksgiving, y’all. Get out and exercise before you eat all that stuff, will ya?  Now excuse me while I get a snack.


Sundays in Saugatuck: Listening to Dragonfly


I thought I might head out for a hike today, but, alas, it is raining. So, for the third week in a row, I headed up to Saugatuck for my seat at Uncommon Coffee Roasters. The cushy chairs were waiting for me. I plopped my stuff down and ordered my mocha in a real coffee mug. Let the new Sunday tradition begin.


Ashok looks cute but had to wait in the car anyway.

The dragonfly card popped up in my spread of my Medicine Cards today. As usual, dragonfly delivered a message that directly applied to my world. I actually called my friend Jessica this morning and spoke almost the exact words in the reading. Native Americans say that dragonfly was once a dragon, and he flew around transforming things with his fiery breath. One day Coyote played a trick on him and transformed him into a dragonfly. Dragon ended up losing his power because he allowed someone else to change him.


After our run yesterday, Ashok rolled in the tiny bit of snow that was available.

The reading tells me that I am holding on to some illusion that is restricting my actions. I’ve been struggling with my people-pleasing tendencies lately, and that’s what prompted my call to Jessica this morning. Trying to twist myself into something or somebody that other people will like is not working for me. And, honestly, if they don’t like me, they don’t like me. In this particular situation, the change expected of me is not behavioral but personal. I am who I am with my own set of unique gifts and faults. And I honestly think if I could change, they still wouldn’t like me anyway. It’s about them. It’s not about me.


Oddly enough, I have on my dragonfly earrings today. “Misery is a prime clue that you lost your will and personal validity when you bought into someone else’s idea of who or what you should be,” says dragonfly. “Who am I then?” I ask dragonfly, knowing the answer somewhere deep in my soul. I spent so many years of my life following someone else’s rules that misery was my constant state of being. But the soul never gives up trying to breathe. I can stuff it down as far as I want, but the soul never dies. It wants to BE who it is … no matter how long it takes.

I know I am still evolving. I know I am not perfect. I know that I continue to work on my personal challenges, and I see progress slowly but surely. I also know that I am talented. I am funny. I am courageous. My friends say that my special gift is helping others see how wonderful they really are. I actually sort of like that person that can help others love themselves. And that’s all I’ll say about that.

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The holidays are upon us. I’m excited about spending some time in Chicago and plans with friends. I’m looking for a 5k to run in December to cap off my successful running season. It’s been years since I’ve been able to run uninjured. Jessica has been coaching me since July, and I’ve been running a 5K every month. Yesterday Ashok and I ran a 5-miler in South Haven, and it felt great – albeit cold. I could run the Speedo 5k in Chicago or the Whoville 5k in Grand Rapids or a New Year’s Eve run. Hmmm … they all sound kind of fun. I’m just very grateful to be running. Along with all the other stuff that my souls longs to be, I suppose it likes to run.   Not sure about the bikini in December though… 

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The First Kiss of Memphis


This morning I woke up in my beloved Memphis. This cute little AirBnB is equipped with all of the comforts of home except maybe a bathtub. But I have a shower, and I suppose that’s all I really need. Last night I ran over to the new Fresh Market which would have been right down the street from my house and stocked up with some healthy treats and a few not-so-healthy ones. I tried to think back to five years ago and choose one of my favorite restaurants.

Let’s see …. there was the convenience store on the corner where I used to get this amazing sautéed veggies over rice with a fried egg on top. Of course, there was BBQ everywhere, but I’d want to save that for Wednesday night. The Mexican Deli in Cordova was too long of a drive after driving all day. I even noodled the Vietnamese place on Poplar. Hmmmm … Bhan Thai popped in my head, and I knew right where I was going.

They’ve made some upgrades. The parking lot is bigger. I no longer had to walk down the street to park. They’ve extended the porch so it’s larger. I opted to sit on the porch since it was nice out, and I tried something new – the potstickers – and one of my favorites – cashew nut tofu. I even opted for the sticky mango coconut rice for dessert even though I knew I could only have a taste or two. I’m on vacation, right? A singer sang old favorites from my childhood, and I let myself relax for the first time on the trip. “I am here,” my body said. “Kick your feet up and relax.”

My little vacation spot…

I made an early night of it since I had gotten up early to drive. So I awoke rested and ready for my run. I thought of several running routes but settled on walking out my front door and heading to my old neighborhood. Memories started rushing back as I made my way down the same streets that I’d run a million times when training for marathons. Looks like they finally sold that place over on McLean. Wow, they made some nice upgrades on that house off Lemaster. Dogs, as usual, were being walked all over, the humidity hung like a damp cloth in the air, and the trees of Memphis stood as stately and beautiful as ever.

My old house… with my porch swing.


I ran down my old street and checked out my apartment where I lived after my divorce. It looked the same. I wondered if they ever fixed that back yard so it looked a little nicer but didn’t have the hooha to walk over and peek over the fence. It was occupied as a fall wreath hung on the door. I thought of the Memphis drummer that lived beneath me and harbored a secret crush on the older woman on the second floor. I passed my house down the street. They chopped down all of those bushes to the side of the house to make a two-car driveway. And they added the porch swing that I wanted but never hung. I longed to look inside to see what else was new.


Overall, the old ‘hood is the same. Central Gardens is where I am, and Central Gardens is where I lived. It’s where I trained for my first marathon. That house on Carr was Ashok’s first home with me. I remembered with a gasp how hot it was that one summer when temps hung over 100 for weeks on end. My sister came up to go to an outdoor gospel concert during Elvis week. It was 104, but they still held it outside. Thank heavens it’s not that hot today! I remember those countless long runs through that neighborhood where I’d suffer through eeking out another 5 miles … another mile … another 100 yards. And I remember how I felt today when I was done… soaked through with sweat, fully worked out and glad to be here.

I asked myself if I should have left Memphis. I have great friends here, and I really do love the gritty soulfulness of this city. I thought about the year before I moved to Louisiana and what I was feeling. I had a restlessness about me, and I was ready to go. “You are not the staying kind,” I heard a voice in my right ear. I giggled a little and answered back, “Yeah, I suppose commitment is not my strong suit.” Thank goodness that doesn’t mean I can’t journey back for comfort. I may not stay for long, but I’ll be grounded in love and gratitude while I’m here.

Running in the Rain


I hate being sick. I’m actually not sick that often, but this week I got some kind of awful, debilitating cold with a fever. I was down and out for two days. I slept and slept and slept all day Monday and Tuesday. I still had a fever Tuesday night, and I thought for sure I’d be off work Wednesday to spend another day in bed. But, for some reason, when I awoke on Wednesday, I felt like my old self again. With no fever and no raging river of snot cascading down my nose, I got dressed and went to work.

I didn’t want to revisit that cold again, and since many people at work are getting over it or suffering with it, I sort of kept to myself and treated myself to a lot of rest and relaxation when I got home. But, we all know that you can’t bank exercise, so I texted Jessica who has been coaching me again and committed to running first thing this morning. She sent me a speedwork plan earlier in the week, so I got up at 4:30 and was out the door at 5 AM to check that box. It looked a little like rain, so I brought a rain jacket just in case.


I got through the first quarter mile repeats with no problem, but then I felt a sprinkle. During the 3rd repeat, it started pouring. It wasn’t a Louisiana pouring, but it was definitely a Michigan pouring. I wasn’t too far from home, so I could have gone back, but I knew I had to finish this run. Surely, it wouldn’t last long, I thought. This isn’t Louisiana. Rain doesn’t usually last long. Ashok looked at me with a sad look in her eyes, and I told her we were going to finish the run. A little rain wasn’t going to melt us.

So we ran in the pouring rain, splashed in small streams and large puddles and I spent a lot of time and effort trying to protect my iPhone. After 5 minutes of feeling like a wet rat, I started to appreciate the freedom of running in the rain. Ashok seemed to mimic my mood and picked up her pace as she raced through puddles of her own. The last of my congestion from my cold made breathing difficult, and I found myself shooting snot torpedoes out my nose more than once. It stopped raining by the time my speedwork was done, and we walked in the house dripping water all over my front porch.

I love the feeling of completing a challenging run. Sometimes it’s the run itself. Other times the weather makes breathing difficult. Cold weather, too, can cause exercise asthma, or icy roads can make running treacherous. The workout can be a b*tch. After work some days, my legs feel like lead posts, and I struggle with every step. But every time I persevere and finish, I feel like a rock star. When I check that box on the finished workout, I have successfully completed at least one task for the day. Actually, when I think about it, I truly am like a rock star when I stick with something hard and finish it. There were a lot of people who slept through that rain this morning. I conquered it.

Go conquer something this weekend. You deserve to be a star.


Change is Good



I’m still making it Facebook-free! I think it’s been a week.. or more maybe. I don’t know how long it’s been, and I don’t care. I just know that I don’t miss it at all. I’m finding ways to stay in touch with most of my friends by now in other ways, and that feels really good. Yes, I sort of miss knowing what all is going on in everybody’s lives, but, I don’t miss knowing what’s going on in everybody’s head. Besides, maybe there is something to be said in reaching out to someone instead of lazily stalking their life with no real connection.


I started using Instagram. I have to admit it doesn’t have the addictive quality of Facebook, but it does offer cute cat videos. I’m calling it the softer, gentler social media outlet. This weekend my friend Cy and I were playing with some of the features. He’s a friend from Louisiana, and he’s sick of the BS on Facebook, too. When I told him about Instagram, he was a little hesitant but thought he might try it. Next thing I know, he’s posting update videos from Livingston of his daily goings-on. He’s becoming an Instagram super user!


There is a new feature on Instagram called My Story. Apparently, the idea was stolen from the popular Snapchat, but since I never have gotten into Snapchat, I don’t have any judgments. You can upload pictures to My Story, adorn them with text, add the temperature and location and decorate with funny accessories. As the day goes on, My Story grows, and your followers can view it like a slideshow. After 24 hours, it disappears! I had fun on my adventure this weekend chronicling all my stops with videos and pictures. I had a few followers sharing in the fun. They say a picture paints a thousand words, so Instagram is an efficient way to get a point across.

I’m also meeting different people on Instagram. Some of my friends are on Facebook and Instagram, but many of the ones on Instagram are not on Facebook, so I haven’t been “socializing” much with them in years. It’s nice to see my friend Amy’s kids growing up and catch up with a couple of my runner friends in Memphis. It’s just a bit of a different experience, and I don’t find myself obsessed about being on there. I actually have time to read and cook and exercise.


I subscribed to the New York Times, and I am thoroughly enjoying it. When I was on the News app on my phone, all I got was stories on politics and tragic happenings. Now that I have the Times I try to go in and read some of the features, scour the book reviews, devour the articles about history and occasionally read about politics. The writing is so good. Articles are well researched and actually have a real story behind them. I feel so much better about the world. Yes, there’s drama going on at the White House, but the rest of the world seems to be moving along quite normally.


My Virtual Boot Camp is almost over, so I’m trying to decide what I want to do next for fitness. I really do miss the heart-thumping cardio from running, so I’m considering getting in shape to run again. I did my first 30-minute run/walk tonight. Injuries have plagued me the last few years every time I got started, but I’m hoping if I take it slow enough I’ll get back into it. I’d like to keep the distance at 5k or 10K at the very most because I want to continue my yoga and strength-training, too. I think marathons are in my rear view mirror. I’d rather be hiking!


Will I ever get back to this again? I miss my runs.

I’m continuing to follow Weight Watchers’ maintenance plan, and the accountability has helped me stay on track and actually lose a few pounds the last few weeks. Tonight I made some delicious butternut squash soup, and finished it off with smoked trout from Lake Michigan and some homemade bread with goat cheese. It was delicious! I feel so much better when I’m eating right. I’ve been tempted a couple of times this week to indulge in the crap that is out at work, but I’ve stayed on track due to the “rails” I have in place. I even ate pretty healthy over the weekend while I was out of town. I’m sort of proud of myself.

I head to Chicago this weekend to stay with my friend Nancy. I’m looking forward to being in the city. We might go ice skating, walk around downtown and will probably just hang out and laugh a lot. Meanwhile, I have to get through Thursday and Friday at work. It’s only Hump Day, y’all! Friday’s coming…