I picked her up early from school so that she and a couple of friends could have their hair done up for the big night.  I wish I could do her hair like this!  (And that she’d sit as patiently for me – without screaming – as she did for the stylist.)

Back of hair

Top of hair

Ready to go!

We arrived at the venue in time to help with the set up.  Maria did a great job with her assigned tasks, and I think she enjoyed being around just women and girls for a while.  (Never once did she ask what the boys at home were doing without her there!)

While I sold raffle tickets, Maria was called to the stage for practice.  She and the other kids worked on their catwalk moves until it was time to eat.

Practicing and playing

Once the kids finished their meals, they headed downstairs to change into the clothes that they’d be modeling.  Then they just had to wait their turn while the rest of us enjoyed the show.

Here she comes!

Doing great!

So pretty!

After the show, we stuck around for the raffling of prizes (didn’t win that iPad, darn it!) and then headed home to the boys.

Becky gave me a training plan and I trained alone, on a treadmill, in a climate-controlled environment, with TV and music and a flat surface to keep me going.  I made it to race day and finished my first 8K in 50:58.  The race was so much fun, I committed to doing something else I never thought I’d do: wake up EARLY to run at o’dark 30 three or four days a week.  It was Crazy Anne that got me to do it.  “Just give us one week,” she told me.  “If you don’t like it, then you can quit.”

It’s been a year, and I’m still at it.  My running buddies are rocks when it comes to reliability.  I never have to worry that they won’t show, which is the only reason I haven’t quit.  They also taught me just about everything I know – which fuel product is best for long runs, how much water to drink, what to wear, how to “roll” my legs and what to read.  They also introduced me to Dina – runner extraordinaire.  (You never know when she’s going to show up on the Path and make you work harder than you’d planned.)

Almost a year later, we ran the Shamrock Shuffle again this morning.  Since the Shuffle had been my first race, I considered today to be my Runniversary.  And, I was determined to beat my time from last year – by as much as I could.

So, last night, after getting my gear ready, I spent some time making a special “Shuffle” playlist with my favorite fast songs.  I put them in just the right order to motivate me when I thought I’d need it most.

And this morning, it all came together.  My Path Partners and I, along with another friend (new to running since having her babies), piled in the car at 7 a.m. and headed downtown.  It was cool and cloudy when we lined up, but soon the sun came out and burned the clouds away.  Crazy for this time of year in Chicago.

Throughout the race, my music kept me pumped, as did the fear of disappointing Dina.  (She had given me a goal, and I did NOT want to tell her I hadn’t reached it.)  So, with all the determination I had, I finished the race in 43:27.  I was thrilled.  Half dead, but thrilled.  All four of us beat our times from last year!  (Okay, so Marion didn’t run it last year, but still…)

And then there was the post-party – nothing like a beer (or two) on a gorgeous day after a run with good friends!

After leaving the city, we headed to a place closer to home for burgers and drinks on the patio.  Had it not been for kids and husbands waiting at home, I think we could have spent the day there.

The big draw, of course, is Cloud Gate (aka The Bean):

This was taken from underneath

Pretty cool, eh?

We’re talking Derby.  Pinewood Derby.

This year, again, Jack’s car made it to the final six.

And then he was out.

Dammit.

But, Dan did say (I was busy shuttling others to and from the Y for hockey and skating) that Jack handled the “loss” very well this year and that he gave a great exit interview.  So, I guess we’re winners after all!

(We didn’t win the beauty contest, either, although I don’t see how.  What’s cooler than a Great White Shark?!?)

Well, it all actually turned out okay:

But I still don’t want to do it again anytime soon.

I left Dan with the kiddos and flew to Dallas to join my very best girl friends.  Where we all participated in a half-marathon.

Several ran her first half.  One her last half.  One her second half.  And, two spectated (which, in the weather we had, was harder than running!)

We also managed to fit in some Tex-Mex, good beer, pasta, margaritas, more Tex-Mex and some wine.

Despite the very crappy, cold, wet weather, I could not have had a better time!

Thanks, girls!

This time, with the long weekend, we chose to stay for two nights.  With all the work we have to put into assembling and dismantling the tent, I thought it would only be worth it to go for a little longer.  Of course, our camp neighbors probably didn’t think so.  Maybe next time we should camp in the true wilderness so the kids can scream their fool heads off without constantly being shushed by us.

We headed north on Saturday as soon as Maria’s soccer game was over (hers was the last of the day).  The drive should have only been about 2 hours, but the kids needed a pit stop.

Facing a stop, Maria announced that she forgot to bring SHOES.  I promise you I am not lying.  She really forgot to bring shoes.  ANY shoes.  (Don’t ask how this happens.  We already tried.  It absolutely boggles the mind.)

Dan and I started to get a little nervous, as daylight was running out quickly and we still had 30 minutes to go.  Thankfully, we found a Wal-mart right on our way and I made the fastest trip in and out ever.

We arrived at the campground with just enough daylight left to pitch our tent and get a fire started.  The first night we roasted hotdogs and then made s’mores.  With a longer stay, we had to cook more on this trip (a little easier said than done).  We had the necessary sundries and the right equipment, but not quite the finesse.  I made a “Mountain Man” breakfast Sunday morning – essentially an egg, sausage, cheese and hash browns casserole.  It was good.  Except for the burnt parts.  Thankfully, I also brought refrigerated dough and was able to fry up some doughnuts for the kids.  Now those were a hit!

The rest of Sunday was spent at the beach and on the dunes.  A Caribbean vacation it wasn’t, but the weather was absolutely perfect.  The sky was as clear and as blue as the water.  The kids had a blast.

A shovel and sand. It's all he needs.

The princess tests the water

Dan and Luke running down the dune

Loving it!

Yes, he's eating sand.

In Lake Michigan. In October.

We returned to our campsite for a cold-cut lunch and a nap for Andrew.  Dan and the big kids headed back to the beach and I tidied up and started preparing for dinner:  Beef Stroganoff.  It was great.  Except for the burnt parts.  For dessert, I made raspberry cobbler (We’d had it at the Garcia’s cabin when we were in Utah and it was excellent.)  I managed to do it right and it was a huge hit – with everyone.  No burnt parts

On Monday morning, we woke early and I fixed Beignets for breakfast, which just might have been the highlight of the whole trip! ( I would have snapped a picture, but they were gone as soon as I turned my back.)

After stuffing our faces, we packed up our campsite and went on a hike.  It was a short hike, and we found ourselves at the top of a dune, facing the lake.  Another perfect, beautiful, clear day.  I took a few pictures (I’m forever hopeful that way) and we headed back.

A long trail for such a little boy.

Love seeing them together.

Do they look alike to you?

NOT Christmas card worthy.

On the way back, we took a small detour to check out another trail and then promptly got lost.  Really.  I couldn’t make this stuff up.  Dan and Jack and I all had differing opinions (imagine that) about which direction we should go.  After trying several different options, I pulled out my iPhone.  It showed us exactly where we were.  Too bad it didn’t help, as it didn’t know where we had left the van.

Just when Maria was starting to worry about having to eat twigs and leaves and Luke was at the height of his tick obsession, (I had found one crawling on him earlier) we found our way back to the path that led us to our van.  Whew!

We couldn't possibly feed twigs to this cutie.

We made it home safe and sound on Monday afternoon.  And slept well in our own beds.

I’m still doing laundry.

“It’s a marathon,” she told me.

OH.

Well, how was I supposed to know?  I wasn’t a runner, and athlete, of any kind.  The most I did was try to kill myself in Wendy’s power lift class at the Y, or mosey along for a while on the eliptical.   (I’ll be honest:  I needed the free daycare more than I cared about any workout.)  At some point my friend Kristina (who had run a marathon!) suggested we run a race of some kind.  I don’t really remember what it was… maybe the zoo 5K?  I entertained the idea for a couple of days before deciding getting pregnant (again) would be less excruciating.

Pregnant.  A great excuse to be a sloth.

So as to keep this novel short(er), I’ll fast-forward a few years to a different city, another baby, and more sloth.

This city?  Runners.  EVERYWHERE.  It’s what people do here.  (Weird, I know.)

Dan joined the local running club (he’s always been a runner) and last year ran his first half-marathon.  I was impressed, but not so impressed that I was going to brave the elements and the children to cheer him on or anything.  (Yes, yes.  Wife of the year here.)

Several of the moms I’m friends with are also runners.  They’d pull up in their vans with their 13.1 stickers and then chat in the parking lot about their running and their races.  “You should join us!” They’d tell me.  “We run at 5:30, before anyone is up.” 

?!?

I was starting to think I needed other friends.  I mean, who the hell gets up at o’dark thirty to RUN?

Then, around Christmastime, Dan and I went to a running club Christmas party.  I was a fish out of water, but it was at my friend Anne’s house (one of the 5:30 a.m. crazies), and I liked having an excuse to get a babysitter and get out of the house for a few hours with Dan.  Plus, despite what you might think, runners like beer.

During the party, Anne and I snuck off to chat and somewhere in that chat was mention of The Shamrock Shuffle.  An 8K race in downtown Chicago.  “There are a bunch of us doing it,” she told me.  “You should do it, too.  It’s really fun.”

Well, I must have been over-served that night, ’cause I actually gave it a three-second thought.  And then, of course, dismissed it.

But, every time I saw one of these crazies ladies, they’d mention the race and what fun it was going to be.  They were sure I could do it.  They could give me a training program.  I should just try.  No one would care if I just walked.  Blah-blah-blah-blah-blah.

Well, one night I was drinking a beer with Dan and talking about it with him.  I looked the race up on the web and checked out the registration information.  “Do it,” he told me.  “Sign up!”

And, I caved.  I figured I could try the training and if I hated it, I’d just back out of the race.

But, I didn’t back out.  I trained by myself on a treadmill (this Texas chick hates the cold), at a reasonable hour of the morning (this chick also loves sleeping), at the Y (every treadmill has a TV).  And, before I knew it, there were a bunch of us headed to the city at o’dark thirty, to run some crazy race.

It was a BLAST.

After that race, I kept running.  But, instead of on the treadmill, I ran with the crazies, VERY early in the morning, cold or not.  And that’s where they really got me.

“You should run the half with us,” they said.

“Hahahahahahahahaha,” I said.

“No, really.  We did it last year and we’re going to do it again this year.  It’s really not that hard.”

Something must happen to your brain when you run, because eventually, I found myself saying yes.  Me.  Running 13.1 miles.  When, in March I’d run the first mile I’d run in… 10 years?

As far as training, I ran when my friends did, as far as they did.  I listened to their tips on running, stretching, reading and eating.

And then, suddenly, it was time for the Chicago Half Marathon.

I was looking forward to it, not so much for the race (which had me nervous) but for the fancy accommodations and girl-time.  Becky (the other crazy)’s cousin has a fancy condo in a downtown high-rise and was letting us have it for the night before the race.  So, on Saturday, we left the kids with the hubbies and drove to the city.  We visited the expo, where we picked up our race packets and bought some “must-have” paraphernalia, and then lounged around the condo waiting for the rest of our group to join us.  (There were 6 of us.)  Once they arrived, we all made dinner, enjoyed a glass of wine, indulged in cake pops and cookies, and watched a movie.

View from the kick-ass accommodations

Mmmmmm. Cake pops!

We were up at 4 the next morning and on the train, headed for the race, by 5:30.

It was GREAT.  So many people, so much energy.  Music, signs, team shirts…

The race started at 7, and for me, it was all over 2 hours, 19 minutes and 15 seconds later.

Me.  The non-runner.  The non-early riser.

I think I have a new addiction.  Already, I’m signed up for a 10K in October, a 15K in November, and my favorite, another half marathon in December.

That half will be in Dallas, where my best friends from high school are getting together to run, walk or cheer.  It’ll be a great run, but a better reunion!  Michelle (one of the group) is currently recovering from extensive surgery, but will be out running and training again soon.  Running that half will be a huge victory.

Crazy.

It looks good, don’tcha think?

So, I’ve made up my own challenge for the weekend:  Hair.

Isn’t it beautiful?!?  Maria spent the night with a friend on Friday and her friend’s mom braided her hair the next morning.  I LOVE it.  Too bad she’ll never have it like this again, seeing as a) I can’t braid; and b) Maria screams when I even pretend to touch her hair.

While on the subject of Maria, I spent a gorgeous afternoon with her and Andrew today.  Not enjoying the weather, bike riding, skating, or doing some other outdoor activity.  No… my little reader wanted the newest Wimpy Kid book.  She’d been asking for a while and since her Dad said “yes,” I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity for a trip to Target.

Problem was, our Target is apparently doing something new with their book section and there were very few books out.  No Wimpy Kid ones.  We asked, but the salesperson didn’t have a clue.  So, off to Barnes & Noble we went.  Very, very slowly.  The highway to B&N was under construction and down to one lane.  Ugh!  It took us FOREVER to get just a few miles.

Then, when we reached the store, the parking lot was packed full.  Fine.  I didn’t mind walking, and Maria was determined to have her book.  I parked a few miles away, opened the back of my van to retrieve the stroller and found… No stroller.  Shit.  That meant I had to carry Andrew across the parking lot and through the gigantic bookstore AND figure out how I was going to use the bathroom while there (Diet Dr. Pepper habit, you know.)  I couldn’t just set him down, as he was barefoot.

We trekked across the lot, into the store, up the escalator and wandered until we found the restrooms.  Once inside, I gave Andrew to Maria to hold and peed as fast as I could.  (Andrew is getting awfully big for her to handle for very long.)  We survived the experience in tact and headed to the “Young Readers” section of the store.

“But I’m not young,” Maria says.

“Yes, you are,” I say.

“No, I’m not!” She tells me.

“Yes, you are,” I tell her.  “You are certainly not old.  You are still a child.  A ‘Young Reader’.  See, (I pointed to the books she was familiar with) we are in the right section.”

She proceeded to tell me the author’s last name and we found two Wimpy Kid books, but not the right one.  We wondered around the entire kids’ section, thinking there might be a Wimpy Kid display with some more books.  And, we found some, but not the right one.

So, I headed over to the computer to do a search.  (Andrew was squirming violently at this point, but there was NO WAY I was letting him down.)  Maria told me that the name of the new book is “Cabin Fever” and I pecked it into the keyboard. After correcting several mistakes (it’s not easy to type one-handed with a squirming child on your hip) I hit “search”.

And the results appeared:  “Coming in November 2011.  Reserve your copy today!”

“MARIA!!!” I said somewhat exasperatedly.  “It’s not even OUT yet!  We have been on a total wild goose chase!!!”

“Oops,” she said.  “I didn’t know.  Let’s just get a different book, then!”