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Sometimes that best way to pass the time on a cold and rainy day is to look back on a sunny day filled with family memories. This sunny day was Sunday August 3rd. It was opening weekend at the county fair and the day before my 35th birthday. I treasure this day and all the fun I had with my family.
We have an abundance of leftover Halloween candy. I thought that since Halloween was on a Friday we would have a lot of trick-or-treaters. I was wrong. This is our leftover candy:
(This is just the top layer, there are 6 more inches underneath)
In January I committed to running a 5K race before the year was over. I'm not one to set a goal and not reach it, but I can confidently say that this goal will not be reached. In the beginning I had a plan. I stuck to that plan. I was on target until a series of events starting with my Achilles tendon injury set me off course.
I am not one to quit. I did what I could over the summer, which consisted of putting away my running shoes and biking. I biked to work all summer long, sixteen miles a day, eighty miles a week with inclines that had me peddling past other cyclist who stopped to catch their breath. I am in shape.
But I still can't run. Mid-September I put away my bike and strapped on my running shoes again. I could run about a mile before the knee pain kicked in. Oh, my knee. The knee that suffered a torn meniscus at Alpine Meadows in 2002. The knee that waited five months for surgery. This is not a knee pain to be taken lightly.
Maybe it is my shoes, I thought. So I purchased new running shoes. I hit the track and ran lap after lap. I ran through the pain. I punished myself because my mind, heart and lungs wanted to run but my knee was holding me back. When I was done, I could barely walk. I limped home. Two days later I limped to the store and returned those new running shoes, limped to another store and bought a different pair.
It is now two weeks later. A lot has changed over the last two weeks. I am feeling the effects of my positive pregnancy test. I'm feeling icky, tired and weak.
Yesterday while I was lifting weights I considered the treadmill for the first time in two weeks. It was always my goal to run through my next pregnancy. It is not like me to give up on my goals so easily.
I decided to run for ten minutes and stop if my knee hurt. Baby steps. I made it through my trial run without incident. Maybe my running days are not over. Maybe I still have that 5K in me.
Of course since I am carrying a life, I will wait to test my theory. 2009 sounds like a good year, the year I give birth to baby number three and run a race. For now I can train. I will take it easy and not push too hard. But I will try, because if I never try I will never know.
This picture was taken a year ago when blogging was just a faint idea of mine. The predominate thoughts going through my mind were:
How many clips can the possibly fit in my hair?
and
Why does this have to hurt so much?
and
I think Ariel has a future as a hair dresser.
A couple hours later we tucked the girls into bed and I sat down at the computer to create a blogger account. I'm not sure what I was doing or what I wanted to accomplish, but the experience started that night has meant more to me than I expected.
This blog is a year old. Like anything that runs the course of a year, my blog has evolved. In the beginning my voice could be heard on a daily basis. Some of it deep and thoughtful. Some of it drivel. Over the summer I wrote very little. Regardless of the frequency or quality of my posts I have recorded my thoughts, family and life for the last year. It is all here.
I can't say that I have a clear direction for the next year, but I can say that there will be another year of blogging. Another year of thoughtful posts and drivel. Another year of capturing my memories because without a place to write it down, I am liable to forget.
Last night Jeff and I went to Ben & Jerry's for our free scoop of ice cream. Afterward we walked over to Deschutes' Portland Pub so that Jeff could enjoy a beer while we watched the election results. At eight-o-clock when the west coast states on the election map lighted up in blue and Obama was announced the next president, the pub erupted with applause and cries of happiness. Jeff and I sat there in shock.
I can't say that I expected McCain to win the presidency, I just didn't expect Obama to win with such a wide margin. My feeling of disappointment at the election result was soon overtaken be a feeling of wonder. I watched the on-screen image of a black woman at Spellman College in Atlanta. Her emotion had brought her to her knees as the people around her celebrated. I looked around me and saw a pub full of white people giving each other high fives and hugs and I recognized that history had just been made.
I never thought of this election in terms of race. For some people this presidential campaign was about a black man running against a white man. For me it was a Democrat running against a Republican. McCain got my vote because Obama's platform was to liberal for me. It was that simple.
As I sit here today in a country where a black man has just been elected president I feel proud. I am proud to live in a country where the color of a person's skin does not put limitations on their aspirations. It brings me joy to know that people of color woke up today knowing that they could accomplish more than they thought they could two years ago. I have a feeling that when Martin Luther King said the famous words, "I have a dream." He was dreaming of today, and that makes me proud.
Because these guys don't want you to:
Because Starbucks will give you coffee
Because Ben and Jerry's will give you ice cream
Because Krispy Kreme has a hot doughnut waiting for you.
Because this is how we the people speak to our government. If not you, who? If not now, when?
Go vote.
