Sh*t Happens

My knees. Somewhat comparable to a husband. Can't live with them, can't live without them.

When I wake up, that joint between my thigh and tibia, feels like a huge-a$$ watermelon. Better my knees than my boobs, right? Some might disagree with me, but with watermelons for boobs, well, I can't imagine it would be fun running. With watermelons for knees, well - there's ibuprofen, glucosamine and ice. Yes! Lots of ice and drugs.

I run regardless. Watermelons or not. I'm not "fast for me" anymore. I've become comfortable with the watermelon run over the last couple of weeks. What does that mean? In this case I run for distance, *ahem* not time. {silent waaaaaahhhh}

I'm hoping watermelon season will soon be over and my runs will be, well, !!my runs!! The watermelon runs are preparing me through my watermelon knees for distance, endurance miles, lots of miles. 13.1 more miles to be exact. YES! I want to run a full marathon. I want to run Rock'n Roll Arizona in January and qualify for Boston.

Sh*t happens for a reason. So here's to 26.2 and watermelons!

My Son for a Year: Paul

Paul. A common name around our home since spring when we decided to host a foreign exchange student. Paul is 16 years old, from Germany and very polite. He also likes the outdoors (like me), he likes sports (like me) and I'm going to guess since he signed up to live abroad for a full academic year, that he likes adventure (like me).

Cheers to Paul and his life in America! Cheers to a wonderful, life-changing year for our family as we grow and become a part of his journey in life and he becomes a part of ours.