Total Pageviews

Monday, March 28, 2011

Feed the Good

I found this on Marie's web site

I don't really know her but I pretend my friend

because I think she is a superstar.

Anyways, I loved this parable.

No real reason to discuss or analyze, just enjoy...

An old, wise Cherokee Indian is teaching his grandson about life:A fight is going on inside me, he said to the boy. It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves.One is evil - he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is good - he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. This same fight is going on inside you - and inside every other person, too.The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather,Which wolf will win?The old, wise Cherokee Indian simply replied,.... The one you feed. American Indian Proverb-

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Moab Half - The After Party

Tim LOVED having E and B there to cheer for him.
E was the official race photographer and did a great job.

By this time we had all recovered from the
"I think I might puke" feeling
and were ready to rock and roll.
The kiddos had a great time in the park.
This may have been part of the Pre-Party.
Either way, it was a party!
Ok, maybe not the part where Gavin was lost
and the whole group was panicked and scouring the park
and the woman who found him wasn't sure she should give him to my mom.
Other than that, a party for sure.

Too bad no one taught these kids to say cheese.

Moab - The Finish Line

Some of us look better than others a the finish line.
Tim trained very little and finished strong.
I was proud of him for running into the wind and cutting 5 minutes after last year's time.

I'm not sure if it worked, but I hope at least a few people yelled
"Go Tim Jim!"

Check out my dad's hat, it was my fashion choice.
He had several injuries that he was fighting,
so I was expecially proud of his run.
This was Jami's first Half Marathon
She, with the support of Adrienne, totally rocked it.
And yes, these are in the order of finishing, she kicked my butt.
Sorry Jarin, the only pic we got of was when you were
trying to catch Jami
He may have had to sprint the last few miles,
but he caught her and they all finished together.

Someone in the group had to be last, right?
I haven't been willing to check, but I think it may have been my slowest half ever.
Somehow having surgery the week before wasn't great preparation.
Yep, I'm smiling...I was happy to be able to run and happy to finish.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Moab Half - Pre-Race

Went to Moab this weekend with a bunch of family for the half marathon (more about that later). This year was exciting because my sister in law Jami was running her first half. She brought her phone along and facebooked the pre-race activities. If I had a facebook, I might just link her photos there, or whatever people do on facebook. Since I don't I just stole them for my blog.

Anyone who has ever run a race with me knows that this is where I spend most of the pre-race warm up time. This is Jami's face after having experienced the pre-race porta potties. Adrienne was a great sport and has cheered Jami since her first training run.

The men of the group.

There was A LOT of pre-race waiting involved.

P.S., the rocks ARE NOT comfortable.

Monday, March 21, 2011

Mexico - The Images

Kind of last minute Tim and I went to Mexico. We had been thinking about it for a long time, but only booked a few weeks before we left. As always, Mexico didn't disappoint. Warm, beautiful, relaxing...perfect.
Since coming home we have been hit with several unexpected stresses and hurts to the heart. I think being in such a relaxed state when it real life kicked us in the butt has made it all a little more tolerable.
Just looking at these shots makes me feel better already.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011


I found this on my friend Eran's blog. So simple but so profound. Something that I need to try to remember when things aren't going the way I had hoped.

As usual, I don't know how to make this work, but hopefully if you click here you will get to his site.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Book Group

I went on vacation two weeks ago(one day I will post pictures and make you all jealous). One of the best parts ofthe trip was all of the time I had to read - such a luxury for me. I read several books and though I would give each of them a mini review. Listed in order of preference.

HOUSE RULES is about Jacob Hunt, a teenage boy with Asperger’s Syndrome. He’s hopeless at reading social cues or expressing himself well to others, and like many kids with AS, Jacob has a special focus on one subject – in his case, forensic analysis. He’s always showing up at crime scenes, thanks to the police scanner he keeps in his room, and telling the cops what they need to do…and he’s usually right. But then one day his tutor is found dead, and the police come to question him. All of the hallmark behaviors of Asperger’s – not looking someone in the eye, stimulatory tics and twitches, inappropriate affect – can look a heck of a lot like guilt to law enforcement personnel -- and suddenly, Jacob finds himself accused of murder. HOUSE RULES looks at what it means to be different in our society, how autism affects a family, and how our legal system works well for people who communicate a certain way – but lousy for those who don’t.

I loved this book, the story was fascinating and gave me so much to think about. Jody Picoult has a pretty predictable style of writing which sometimes can get tired but it worked for this book. A-

Lulu and Merry's childhood was never ideal, but on the day before Lulu's tenth birthday their father drives them into a nightmare. He's always hungered for the love of the girl's self-obsessed mother. After she throws him out, their troubles turn deadly. Lulu's mother warned her to never let him in, but when he shows up, he's impossible to ignore. He bullies his way past ten-year-old Lulu, who obeys her father's instructions to open the door, then listens in horror as her parents struggle. She runs for help and discovers upon her return that he's murdered her mother, stabbed her sister, and tried to kill himself. For thirty years, the sisters try to make sense of what happened. Their imprisoned father is a specter in both their lives, shadowing every choice they make. Though one spends her life pretending he's dead, while the other feels compelled to help him, both fear that someday their imprisoned father's attempts to win parole may meet success.
The Murderer's Daughters is narrated in turn by Merry and Lulu. The book follows the sisters as children, as young women, and as adults, always asking how far forgiveness can stretch, while exploring sibling loyalty, the aftermath of family violence, and the reality of redemption.

The premise of this book was so sad to me. It was especially hard to realize that there are individuals every day that live with the same nightmare that LuLu and Merry had to endure. Makes me value my life even more. I would consider the book worth reading, good not great. B

That's when I saw him—the cowboy—across the smoky room." I'll never forget that night. It was like a romance novel, an old Broadway musical, and a John Wayne western rolled into one. Out for a quick drink with friends, I wasn't looking to meet anyone, let alone a tall, rugged cowboy who lived on a cattle ranch miles away from my cultured, corporate hometown. But before I knew it, I'd been struck with a lightning bolt . . . and I was completely powerless to stop it. Read along as I recount the rip-roaring details of my unlikely romance with a chaps-wearing cowboy, from the early days of our courtship (complete with cows, horses, prairie fire, and passion) all the way through the first year of our marriage, which would be filled with more challenge and strife—and manure—than I ever could have expected. This isn't just my love story; it's a universal tale of passion, romance, and all-encompassing love that sweeps us off our feet. It's the story of a cowboy. And Wranglers. And chaps. And the girl who fell in love with them.

I found this book wandering around Shopko. I didn't realize that it was actually a memoir, apparently a spin off of of the author's website/blog. It was cute, basiscally a fluff romance, however, it left me wanting a more complete picture of Ree Drummell's life. A perfectly good way to pass a few hours. B-

“I am a woman built upon the wreckage of myself.” In an emotionally raw voice alive with grief, compassion, and startling humor, a woman mourns the loss of her husband and son at the hands of one of history’s most notorious criminals. And in appealing to their executioner, she reveals the desperate sadness of a broken heart and a working-class life blown apart.

That description makes it seem like the book would be great, it wasn't. All of the charachters were so devoid of any morals and didn't appear to have any redeeming qualities. It made it hard for more to even feel sorry about the awful events that are described. I'm sure there are people who thought the book was great, this girl wasn't one of them.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Senior Photos

Seriously, where were photos like this when I was a senior? This brings back distinct memories of my senior "portraits". Every girl in the same royal blue, satin dress top. Hideous.
In terms of full disclosure, Jami is my sister in law and one of the greatest people I know. Even if she wasn't I would travel far to have her take my photographs. Her work is amazing and she will make you feel like a rock star.
Call her! You won't regret it.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Thunder Thighs

For most of my life I hated my bulky legs, aka thunder thighs. It wasn't until I discovered running, then biking, that I realized how lucky I was to have such strong legs. Even on a day when my workout feels extra hard, I am so grateful for my legs that have allowed me to find freedom and confidence.

"I have thunder thighs. And that's a compliment because they are strong and toned and muscular. And though they are unwelcome in the petite section, they are cheered on in marathons. Fifty years from now I'll bounce a grandchild on my thunder thighs and then I'll go out for a run. Just do it."


A few months ago I got a new little Ipod shuffle. It's metallic pink and has become one of my favorite accessories. It amazes me how much technology they can squeeze into such a small package. Because it is so small, there is no screen but obviously you sometimes want to know the song or artist that is playing. Enter the voice of the Ipod. She knows all. It doesn't matter which random song may be playing, just a little touch of the button and she lets me know who it is. Sure, her tone is a little flat, but her information never fails. One of the best was when she told me I was listening to My Chemical Romance's Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na. Try saying that with no inflection. I have several artists and songs on my Ipod that are in spanish and hadn't ever really thought about whether or not she is bilingual, apparently she is not. When a spanish song came on recently I pushed the little button, waited for her voice, and was surprised to hear a male voice, a male voice with a Latin accident. I stopped in the middle of the store and started laughing. I guess even the ipod lady needs a little help sometimes.