I swung by Target on my way out of Nashville before the Half Marathon weekend. I purchased a few necessary items, namely a new pair of shoes, black jeggings, and a book. [I don’t buy books much anymore- I prefer the library and borrowing from friends. But every now and again, I just love spending
Let’s start with this: I’m sore. In every place imaginable. The good news? I finished the Seaside Half Marathon. I actually moved 13.1 miles and exercised for 3 hours and 25 minutes. Here are my stats: I finished #2115 out of 2127. Meaning, I beat approximately 12 people. But that can’t be true because there
I’m not a runner. You know this. I am slow. It makes me sad and frustrated. I’ve always been slow, even on my best soccer day. I’m not in tip-top shape. I haven’t enjoyed training. I don’t love to exercise. [Amendment. Exercises I do love: playing soccer, Zumba classes, and water aerobics.] But. Today is a
After I blogged about running/walking/crawling the Seaside Half Marathon last week, a whole bunch of you left comments or emailed me saying that you too would be running this race. That’s crazy cool. Except. You’re probably going to beat me. Which I’m actually fine with. I’m going to finish. I’ll be the blogger behind you.
A few years ago, I wanted to paint my fingernails yellow. Caroline told me no. I don’t remember why. Probably because it wasn’t cool in 2007 or because she knew that I wasn’t cool enough to pull it off in 2007. But I’m cool enough now. Our hilariously belated Christmas gift from Barrett at Mocha
Yesterday at the Mocha Club office, a co-worker asked Emily and I if we were ready for the half-marathon on Sunday. Emily said, “Uh, nope.” I said, “Uh, yes.” Emily has been training. Faithfully. Like, following some sort of program that she got from some running expert. I? Not so much. Our boss Barrett knows
Middle of the week. I hear ya. And I’ve got just what the doctor ordered. The spiritual doctor, that is. [Not the witch doctor. Not that kind of spiritual doctor. Sheesh. Weird.] Roll up your sleeve. Be brave. This won’t hurt. . . . . . Shot #1: New worship song My worship leader from
1. Thank you for all your prayers on Saturday. It was a good day. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t my best showing. It was a good reminder that God’s strength is made perfect in my weakness. [It feels stupid to say that; I know it is true, but it feels like a cop-out way of
I’m emotional just typing this post. That does not bode well for my speaking engagement this weekend. My eyes are probably going to puddle for my entire 40 minute slot. Let me back up a bit. From 2003-2005, I taught 5th grade in Jackson County. I have never loved sixty small people as much as
I’m at my parents’ house tonight and we are watching American Idol and talking about how much we love Annie Parsons. Annie was one of my very very first friends in Nashville and for the rest of my life when I list the people that I insist of keeping in my life no matter what
