My incredible grandmother passed away on Saturday. So, this week, we took a whirlwind trip back home. Back with my family, my first tribe. My dad, my aunts and uncles, my sea of cousins and their families. I have lots of thoughts about this experience that I hope, one day, to put into words. For now,...
Last fall I ran a race for the first time since before Meadow was born. Actually, I think the last race I ran before that was a half-marathon when Charlie was 4 and Chanelle was 2. At that time, life was different. My Mom was still alive. I was a therapist. We weren’t outnumbered by children....
I wish I knew what I was doing with my life. I made that statement to Chad last night just as we were going to bed. Surely, he appreciates that I tend to muse about things such as life direction, the purpose of it all and everything in between in the late night hours just...
I was 11 years old when I first began running. A complete novice, at best. (Is there anything lower than a novice? If so, that was me.) I grew up seeing my Dad lace up shoes and head out the door, only to return with his shirt pasted to his body with his sweat and...
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