Being loved.

 My husband has never bought me jewelry, he has never brought me flowers and I don't think, has ever given me a card BUT my husband has given me firewood. Lots and lots of firewood.  My husband has spent the past two weeks - including one full week of vacation and nearly all of his overtime money - installing an outdoor woodstove that heats the entire house.  Not just the living room.  He did this most all on his own with the help of his dad.

My husband has never been the romantic type. In fact, I would say that he is anti-romantic.  But in his quiet way, he manages to convey his love for me, the kids, and the animals every day.  I don't write about him much.  Mainly because he just coasts along. He's always there. Very easy to take for granted.

But a high school classmate recently lost her husband.  Which has got me thinking about how lucky I am.  And how despite the many ways he irritates me and gets on my nerves (because I am perfect, you know), I am incredibly lucky to be married to him.

He supports me in my crazy ventures.  From my goats to my AT thru-hike.  He doesn't complain too much when I spend money on running shoes, sleeping bags, chicken feed, tents........ he just simply says ok and in his own quiet way, lets me know he is there for me.

 He's a good guy, that husband of mine.

Race report.

So I don't think I ever reported on the outcome of my daughters' and my race at Shepherds University WV.  It was their very first 5K (that wasn't part of X-country).  It was freakin' cold - 26 degrees to be exact. And we slept in a tent. I never thought I would get the girls awake at 5 am so that we could be at the race bright and early.  Having had much experience of waiting for parking at races, I've learned over the years to get a really early start.

But they got up with no problem.  Well-rested no doubt because they were warm.  They were responsible for setting up the sleeping arrangements in our little tent.  I thought they had purposely arranged blankets for cushions and sleeping bags for warmth.  I found my sleeping bag the next day in the back of car.  Needless-to-say, I was cold that night.

So we got up, didn't even start a campfire, jumped into the car and set off to the University.  We arrived about 5:45.  We, and one other runner, were there waiting for the wellness center to open and for the shuttles to run.  Parking was not a worry- there were only 3 other cars in the lot.

I taught my girls that one advantage of being early (aside from the excellent parking spot) was there was no line for the restroom.  So we got all of that taken care of, got our running shorts on and set off for the start which was several blocks away.  We were thankful for this because we were able to build up warmth because it hadn't broken 30 degrees yet.  It turned out to be an absolutely gorgeous fall day - perfect for running.

All went well - there was coffee at the bag check-in.  There were a ton of runners but not so many that we felt suffocated.  And then we were off.  I ran the half-marathon - mainly because it started and ended at the same place that the girls race started/ended.  I am so glad I did.  I much prefer the half because I felt that I ran really hard but yet I was healthy enough to run the next day.  It was an awesome race.

But my girls......their first race.......came in  2nd and 3rd!!!!  Amazing!  And now they are hooked.  My runner girls and I will be racing in Virginia Beach in December.  And in Disney in 2014, Virginia Beach again in March, and who knows where else.

It's a healthy addiction.  And something to share.

Another twist.

I was looking for something else.  I found this. One of my kids must have saved this a few years ago.

I still can't believe that my dad is gone. I dream about him every night, think about him every day.

My heart is broken.  I have plans to help it mend but I don't know.

I want to be where my dad is yet I want to be here with my kids.  It is all so confusing, so frustrating, all I know is that I don't like being in this world without him.

I wish I could cry.

Someday.

For years I have wanted to hike the Appalachian Trail in its entirety.  It is something I've dreamed about - literally - something I've read about.  It is something I've done in teeny, tiny bits and pieces.......enough to say (ahem) I've been on the trail.  My time is coming.  I have a plan.

Since my dad died, I've looked at my life differently.  I've decided that while I may not be able to jump in feet first to somethings I've always wanted to do, I could at least begin the process.  Kind of like how you eat an elephant, one bite at a time.

Realistically it would be irresponsible for me to begin a thru-hike now.  I've got responsibilities to my family.  My job guarantees an education at a good university for my kids.  But I can start small by continuing weekend hikes and beginning with week long hikes.  I love the idea of being on the trail for 4-6 months but do I trust myself enough to set off on my own?  And to stay with it when I forget everything that drew me to it in the first place?

I've got to find out.  I suspect I'll be fine.  I know, however, that I've go to learn to trust: myself, my family, my friends, and in this case, the white blazes.  Physically I am as prepared as one can be years out from an epic hike.  Mentally - I could use a little work.  I'm hoping that by the time my last child has graduated from college that I have the courage to turn in my two week notice and catch a ride to Georgia.

I'll do it. I know I will.

Who's laughing now?

No pictures - I'm at a conference in Nashville and, unfortunately, did not win an ipad so I rely soley on the technology available in between sessions.

Still.

Who, seriously, is laughing now?

This question is in my mind for so many reasons.  First of all, if you haven't had the opportunity to read the comments on the online Centre Daily times site, then you should.  It is amazing the responses one may find.  And no, I don't post there.  I just read and get pissed off. 

Penn State is so much more than what the media would lead you to believe.  I've been asked umpteen times at this conference (by truly concerned colleagues), just how 'is it' at Penn State?  Seriously?  The people of Penn State are strong.  Stronger.  These 'kids' who begin school each September are excited to be here and want to start off on a fresh foot.  They - along with the rest of the Penn Staters -  are motivated to prove that Penn State is NOT synonymous with 'Sandusky'.  That Penn State is going above and beyond what needs to be done to prevent, counteract, and deal with the horrors that can be bestowed on the kids.  As all schools - all people - should.   I've been asked multiple times how "it is" at Penn State and it is NOT what the media portrays.  Not by a long shot.  The media has the power to direct our thoughts.  Whether we view a school as a villain or a victor can be at the hands of the media.  Truly honest and unbiased media coverage? Ha!  

My Penn State is the 99.99% that attends classes everyday, goes to work everyday, has a social conscience  who are parents who are proud and excited to send our kids to Penn State, we are the employees who clean Penn State, who maintain the grounds of Penn State, who advise the students.  We are the runners, the soccer players, the baseball players, we are all the athletes, academics and citizens of the county.

Please make NO mistake about the identity of Penn State.  Because. We ARE.

Boys.

 In the past thirty years, I've never been without a young child at home.  Right now my youngest is 13.  He is in that spot teetering between being my little boy (who I want him to stay) and a young man (who I know he must become).  Still.  I love that he doesn't hold back when it comes to his little nephew.  My guy still has absolutely no qualms about playing on the playground, riding bikes and just hanging out being silly with his favorite little friend.  I am so cherishing this time of being with my younger kids - the time I had with my older two kids seemed to fly by largely unappreciated because I was
always busy: finishing college, running, worrying about this, worrying about that.  I feel as if I never really enjoyed  them until they too old to enjoy being with me.    These days when I am running back and forth picking kids up and dropping them, watching football games and soon, cross country meets, going to football games and chaperoning the kids......I'm loving it.

This is a great time of life with kids!  I have my little grandson who although I really wished lived a bit closer, I can cuddle and enjoy 5-year-old stuff with.  I have my high school kids who I can watch grow into young adults and enjoy all of the things they do along the way.  I have my two oldest who I can sit back and enjoy seeing how well they've turned out - even though I think they both feel as if they are struggling right now.
It is a great time of life for me right now.  

Race of a lifetime.

So yesterday I ran the US Air Force Marathon at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base near Dayton OH.  The morning started at 7:30 am with the Star Spangled Banner followed by a flyover by the B2 Stealth Bomber.  I could have left right then and been fully thrilled with the experience.  It was simply and utterly amazing.  There was a runner standing next to me who really put it into perspective.  He was from another country and he was thrilled to tears.  He couldn't clap hard enough, he couldn't cheer loud enough. He said over and over that this could only happen in America and this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.  Which made me profoundly proud and sad at the same time.

My purpose of running this race was to memorialize my dad who passed on May 22nd of this year.  I've written about his role in the military over his lifetime and it seemed as if the Air Force Marathon would be the perfect honorarium.  I raised money for a charity called Fisher House - an organization which, in a very small nutshell, provides housing for the families of military personnel who have been hospitalized.  I felt that this would be a perfect fit and a perfect ongoing charity to support in memory of my dad.  As a really nice aside, the staff and the volunteers completely made this race.  I've run in tons of races but this is by far, the most organized!  The most important factor - the port-o-potties - was so much better addressed proportionately at this marathon than at the Marine Corp Marathon.  And before you turn your nose up at the idea, simply having to answer nature's call during the race can set you back as much as a half hour.  And for the Air Force marathon, I stopped 3 times!   Mostly because the port-o-potties were there!

There were hydration stations at least every mile and a half.  Bananas, cookies, all types of things to keep the body moving for 26.2 miles.  There were bands playing music of every conceivable genre, there were volunteers cheering us on the entire time.  And at the one point where no human cheerleaders were in sight, were 3 of the largest buck I have ever seen!

I saw a replica of the Wright brothers first plane as it flew overhead at about mile 23.  I saw the plane that my dad flew.  I saw the plane that my dad flew and dropped people out of.  I half expected to see my dad somewhere on the course.  But I didn't.  I also didn't cry.  I saw a captain in the same flight suit that I remember my dad wearing and I nearly lost it then.  But I didn't.  I wish I had.  I really need to cry.

It was an amazing day yesterday.  I saw one runner with a picture of his dad on the back of his shirt - his dad was about the same age as mine and died about the same time.  I saw another runner running in memory of his very young daughter and yet another runner running in honor of a brother.  We were those people bringing up the rear of the middle of the pack.  We were there for a purpose, for the comradery of the marathon.  We are the serious runners but we are not doing it because we have any hopes of winning.  We are doing it because by stomping and running, we are trying to shake loose that part of us that will allow us to deal with, to accept, and to hopefully heal from the loss of someone we love.

Lazy day.

 There is a lot that I could be doing today but I'm not.  I'd like to say that I'm resting up for the scads of students who will be seeking advising this week.  The truth is, I am just feeling lazy today.  To my credit, I have thought about what I should do.  Things like cleaning, laundry, sweeping. . . . things like that.  But I think that after I go check on the goats, Dolly Llama and Clover, that I'll come back in and grab one of the books that I picked up from the library today (because today's laziness was premeditated), curl up on the couch and read.  Tomorrow will be my 22 mile run.  Probably.  At least 15 miles anyway.

Tomorrow I'll clean and do laundry. Or at least coerce one of the kids into doing it.  And apparently this is a lazy day for other members of the household.  Even the dogs are doing nothing.  Which really isn't a change from any other day but I just wanted to point out that they support my loafing.

Loaf on.

Give me a break.

When will people quit acting like animals? Actually, that is an insult to animals. Supposedly we humans  have morals.  Many of us have chosen to take marital vows, oaths to do no harm, oaths of office, pledges to do this and promises to do or not do that but yet again and again, those vows, oaths, pledges and promises are broken.

Another incident of abuse hit our local paper today. In what world is this kind of crap not wrong? In what instance can anyone rationalize this type of behavior toward a child? I don't believe that it is a sickness. I don't care what label it is given or if it is listed in the DSM-IV or V or whatever. It is just. plain. wrong. And the perpetrators KNOW that it is wrong. In the name of what? Sex? You've got to be kidding me! If people were only as willing to risk everything for the right kind of stuff, this world could be a pretty awesome place. 

Frankly this all is just really tiresome. I'm tired of hearing about these stories drone on and on and on, being debated by every armchair lawyer in the county.  People on this side, people on that side. There is no side. Abusing a child (or an animal or any human being) is wrong. It should be dealt with. End of story. People who commit these kinds of acts have made a choice. They have made the decision to be dealt the consequences in exchange for doing something they know is wrong. There shouldn't be any long drawn out deliberation. There shouldn't be a 3 month wait from the time someone is convicted until they are sentenced. I'm tired of having to worry about our kids because of a few depraved adults who really need to be put behind bars forever. No excuses, no parole, nothing. Gone. They've violated the safety of society and they should be put away in a community of like minded individuals - just like themselves. Let the rapists, murderers, and perverts mingle and do as they like with each other. Stay the heck out of our world.

I'm tired of living in a world where innocent children are an endangered species.  I'm tired of living in a world where to give a hug to a child just because you are proud of him/her or care about him/her is suspect.  As really, it needs to be.  Just because there are horrid little cretins living amongst us who have taken it upon themselves to do what makes them feel good at the expense of children and society as a whole.

I'm tired of excuses and I am tired of resources going to defend/prosecute these demons while money for education is being drastically reduced.  

I don't think we really need to worry about global warming.  We are killing ourselves.

Need some help here.

Exactly one month from today is the US Air Force Marathon in Dayton, OH.  I am still raising funds for the Fisher House.  You can click here to donate and to read more about this cause that I've chosen in memory of my dad.  You need to scroll down to the bottom for the DONATE  button.  Or you can email me for more information.

This is a very special cause for me as I've written about in the blurb below.  Please consider donating.

In Memory of my father, retired USAF Major Joseph W. Arnold who left this world on May 22, 2012. I am raising funds for Team Fisher House Running under the wings of my dad. The military has been a huge part of my life, first my father and then my daughter, a veteran of the Iraqi war. Because of this tie and to help myself deal with the catastrophic pain of my dad's death, I've decided to run the USAF marathon and to raise money for cause benefiting the families of our military. Fisher House Foundation builds "comfort homes" on the grounds of military and VA medical centers. These homes enable family members to be close to a loved one at the most stressful time - during the hospitalization for an unexpected illness, disease, or injury.

A week at the beach.

 Last week's stay at the beach was exactly what was needed.  It was a girls' week - my mom, two of my daughters, and me.  It has been a heck of a year so far.  A year of change.  And much of the change has not been good.

I know my mom had a great time. And she deserves it.  She loves the ocean.  There really isn't much to say about last week other than it was the most peaceful,most wonderful time spent with my mom.  I know there will be rough times ahead: for my mom, for my brothers, for me.  But I need to remember that there are still some really bright spots and those fun times will come more and more often.

 There's nothing like the ocean to make you realize how very, very small we are.  It's really humbling.  There's nothing like a long barefoot run on the beach to bring one back to reality.  No cell phone, no head phones.....just the sound of the waves pounding against shore and the sound of the gulls and sandpipers.  It has been an amazingly soul-cleansing experience.

And we will do it again next year.

I'm partial to the rocky coast of Maine but I think my daughters and my mom really enjoyed the warmth of the North Carolina water.  I think though, that either place will serve the same purpose.  We have 51 weeks to decide.