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Good morning, friends!

I hope that you all had a wonderful night's sleep and are ready to take on the day (or at least another cup of coffee, like me!) Likewise, I hope that you had a wonderful October :) For my part, I can confidently say "I DID!" October brought with it some huge milestones (including the completion of my first marathon on October 16), as well as, at the end of the month, some much needed time to relax and reflect.

I've missed this little blog, but I am excited to be back :) I am excited to share my final CA recap with you, as well as an epic marathon post. I am excited to tell you about my plans for the holiday season that make my heart sing. I am excited to share pictures and dreams and real-time weekly updates. ...I'm excited.

And I'll be back soon to start the sharing :)

Have a fantastic Tuesday!

Your Turn: What have you been up to in the past couple weeks? Can you believe that it's all ready November? Have "holiday plans" started to come together at your house, too?



PS: In the meantime... just because I haven't posted here lately doesn't mean I stopped writing all together! I had the honor to guest post for my lovely friend Hannah last Wednesday! You can read my post here, if you like!

... Counting my blessings

(Note: This isn't exactly a bouncy-typical Amy type of post. But this is me and this is my heart, and it's what I have to give you today. I'll be back to business as usual tomorrow with my final *sniff* CA vacation post!)


Hi, friends! Happy Wednesday:)

Boy, has this been a week for me. I am an emotional train wreck (poor Jon, I know). I am exhausted, and it's only Wednesday. Methinks it's time to take a deep breath drink a glass of wine and count my blessings.

It's been rolling around in my mind for a while now that I need to write a post about the emotional ups & downs of marathon training -- and marathon tapering, which has been a whole new beast all together.

This coming Sunday, October 16, is the Columbus Marathon. I have been training for almost 6 months, and have put more than 400 miles in. I have had blisters between my toes, and learned *the hard way* that Gu does not agree with my tummy. I have taken ice baths, and crawled out of bed at sinful hours to put in long mileage before work.

... And through this, I have grown. I say with certainty that I am not the same person I was when I started this journey. Everyone has their own demons that they battle in their life -- those dark forces that seek to steal your joy and take away your feelings of self worth. For me (and this is hard for me to put into words, so bear with me) -- the demon taunts me that I am not enough. Not good enough, not dedicated enough, not strong enough... Earlier this year, my heart decided that it had had enough, and, in a moment of reckless spontaneity, I signed up to run a marathon.

Throughout the course of marathon training, I fell in love with running, I fell in love with my amazing training partners, and I fell back in love with me. The long mileage has forced me to come face-to-face with myself.... to judge, to distance myself and look with new eyes and find ... me. I am not (by any stretch of the imagination) flawless, but I am tenacious, I am willing and I am strong. I have found strength in my spirit that I always hoped I might have. ...I have taken that leap of faith and become the woman that inspires me.

...I have come so far. ...And this Sunday's race will just be icing on the cake. The "end" of a beautiful journey. I know that I do not need to cross the finish line to grow and heal -- I've all ready done that. This journey... the most physically & mentally challenging I've encountered yet... has proved to me beyond a doubt that I am enough.

But, even though I know that it's the journey -- not the destination that is the most important, I'm kind of invested in this. At this point, not being able to run my race on Sunday would be nothing short of heartbreaking.

.
..
...
....

So, now I have a story for you. (Hint: you aren't going to believe this -- and it is, in fact, the reason I've been avoiding writing for a couple days.)

This past Saturday when I was up in Toledo helping Laurie move into her new apartment (which is gorgeous, btw...), I stepped off a concrete step the wrong way and rolled my ankle.

Frankly, I roll my ankles all the time when I'm running... most of the time it happens because I'm running next to a friend on a narrow strip of sidewalk... Ooopsie-- no big deal. ...But this was a heck of a roll --the pain knocked the wind out of me. I immediately tried to save face walk it off... but I was limping... and becoming scared. When we got inside I took a look at it, and it was definitely swelling. But I iced, compressed and took my NSAIDs (heh. Laurie, are you proud?) diligently, and did my best to remain positive.

...It was when my ankle was still sore and swollen yesterday that I panicked. ...I had a miniature meltdown in my office at lunchtime, and followed that up with a call to Dr. Bright (MiT doctor extraordinaire.) I hadn't run since last Thursday and I was worried about going back out too soon and really getting hurt. Thankfully, Dr. Bright's staff was able to fit me in this morning in between appointments.

It's not a stretch to say that I had about a bazillion thoughts racing through my mind as I sat waiting to be seen by the doctor. Finally, as I sat trembling (nerves, not coffee... I made sure to drink decaf this morning!) I threw my hands up in the air and turned my face to the heavens, "Thy will be done."

The doctor walked in sometime after that, and after turning this way and pushing that way, gently pressing and asking, "Does this hurt?" ("No.... Nope. ...No.... Yoww.") He gave me the verdict: buy a good ankle brace and take it easy, but by all means, run the marathon. ...And then he shook my hand and left.

I am so thankful.

... After that, the rest of the day has been... well, long. I'm worn out. Lunch with my friend (since forever high school) Bethany was a definite high point ... but there have been some pretty low points, too. Life goes on.

My wake-up moment of the afternoon came when I received an email from my husband, telling me that he spent his morning driving a couple of friends to the hospital after they learned that 2 of their friends had been involved in a terrible motorcycle accident last night. After I read his email, I just sat quietly for a few moments, my heart breaking for the families of these two young men. And all I could think was "Why?" Why am I so lucky today while these others are hurting so deeply? ... I am indeed blessed, and today the gravity of that grace is weighing heavily on me. How small I am, and how small my problems are.

... Yet... how big my God is. And so tonight I will press forward, knowing that in Him, I am enough, and I am strong enough. I will pour a glass of wine and not stress about my marathon training, and I will kiss my kitties more & hug Jon a little longer than usual.

And on Sunday I will run my marathon, as a celebration of life: for the overcoming of the demons, for love, for the everyday triumphs of the human spirit.

...For me. For Life.

Challenge II, D10: Finally home

(photo credit)

Be still and know that I am God

Be still and know that I am

Be still and know that I

Be still and know that

Be still and know

Be still

Be

::Psalm 46:10::

So I'm standing in the kitchen tonight, washing dishes from the day and unloading and reloading the dishwasher.

Gracie is chirping at me from her favorite perch on top of the refrigerator, and the oven is rhythmically clicking as our dinner bakes. The timer counts down 15:36, 15:35, 15:34 ...

I hear Jon moving upstairs.

I pause to look out the window in front of me, onto the softly twilit world. I hear crickets singing, and feel a soft, fragrant breeze waft across my face, kissing my eyelashes.

I breathe. In. Out.

And I realize, in this very moment, I am finally home. This is what my heart was aching for all those months when I was searching ... not even knowing what to ask for.

A Perfect peace.

Perfect comfort.

And my heart beats, Thank You, thank You, thank YOU... for this one complex, hard, uniquely wonderful & excruciatingly beautiful life ♥

Challenge II, D9: Weekend Wrap-Up

Hi friends, and Happy Labor Day --I hope you have had a wonderful holiday weekend!

Well ...My weekend has been something else.
A very good something else :)

I had intended to blog straight through the weekend ... but then life interfered. Each evening, by the time I had a chance to sit still and be quiet long enough to collect my thoughts, my eyelids were drooping... and I wanted to give you the best recap I could, so I postponed-- I promised you quality over quantity in this challenge, after all ;)

It is my pleasure to fill you in on the past 3 days now, with a weekend recap post!

This weekend was a different & relaxing one right from the get-go. As I intimated on Friday, I have gotten in the habit of early morning wake-up calls on Saturdays for MiT (at times, I've been out running as early as 5 am!), and so it was a special treat for me to be able to sleep in on Saturday morning. I woke naturally (around 8), brewed a pot of coffee & whipped up a batch of pumpkin pancakes.

...And then Jon & I languished in our Saturday for the next two hours. One of my favorite things in the world is leisurely weekend brunches with my husband. I love the slow pace, and feeling like we can just relax together & enjoy each others company. ♥

After breakfast, 'I got my booty in gear' and cleaned the house from top to bottom ... and then my excitement won out, and I broke into the fall decorations. Warming my home with golds & reds and the scent of cinnamon is good for my soul. I just need some mums for the porch, and I'll be all set!

Sunday morning I ran the Emerald City half marathon.
... And it was the best "race" I have ever run.

For the first time ever I ran a race for fun... and the difference was incredible.

Instead of nerves, I was chattering all day on Friday about how excited I was. Eventually, the nerves did come, but they never crippled me. The happy excitement won over every time. I went into the run with a goal to run at marathon pace (2:45) ... and I smashed that ... coming in at 2:34. The best part? I had so much to give at the end :) ...Every other half marathon that I've run, I've been absolutely done at mile 11.5. By mile 13, it's always been a battle just to keep lifting my legs ... placing one foot in front of the other. And that never happened this time.

What's even more incredible to me is that my finish time was only about 7 minutes off of my personal best. I think my smile in this picture says it all :)

(photo credit)

I came ... I ran ... I conquered.

And then? ... I napped :)

After a glorious 3 hour nap on Sunday afternoon, Jon & headed over to his sister's house for a Labor Day Party, family style ;) Great food (pulled pork, corn on the cob and blueberry cobbler), drink (blueberry mead?! YUM.) and Lucas snuggling. It was a great night. Even a little rain couldn't spoil our fun ;)

And today? It's been a perfect ending to the long weekend.

Jon took me out for breakfast (more pancakes? Yes, please!), and then I came home & slept off my ensuing "pancake coma" with Gracie, hehe.

It's been a very fall-like day here (in the 60's and gray. LOVE.), so this afternoon I lit my Macintosh apple candle curled up under a blanket with a good book. ...And Gracie foot warmer, obviously ;) Good, good stuff ♥

...I think I may be ready to tackle another work week, after all!

Have a fantastic Monday night, bloggies!

Your Turn: How was your weekend? Do you decorate for Autumn-- and if so, when & how?

Challenge II, D6: "The art of weekending"

I'm not sure if you have noticed or not, but there are two very distinctive weekend personalities. There are the people who watch the minute hand click to closing time on Friday and take off... ready to party the night away and spend every second of the weekend doing -- flitting effortlessly (& with endless energy) from one activity to the next. Then there are those who, at the close of the work week, leisurely head home, change into their comfiest clothes, and settle into the couch to spend the weekend not doing... just because they can ;)

Me? I like to think that I dabble a little bit in both worlds. I enjoy a Sunday afternoon nap just as much as the next person, and love spending a Saturday afternoon reading... but I'm on the go quite a bit, too. What is important to me is to soak up every moment of the weekend, but to be able to sit in bed on Sunday night completely at peace and renewed.

It is an art I am working on perfecting.

But this weekend? It was pretty perfect :)

You all ready know about my yesterday --truly, 18 miles was pretty much all I did... Ah! With the exception of making this for dinner... yummy! Post-run carbo-loading, anyone? (Um, and really, peeling a butternut squash is a workout in it's own right... Hah!)

So now without further ado I'll catch you up on today!

Today I:

* used & washed my frying pan 3 times.

* went to church & participated in heart moving worship

* hugged my sister ♥

* chopped about a million peaches

* swooned at the warm scent of 'fall' emanating through the house as the batch of peach butter cooked.

* roasted my first chicken on a bed of potatoes and carrots

* set the table for a lovely Sunday dinner for two. (When I was growing up, Sunday dinners were always a special meal during the week, enjoyed at the dining room table. I hope to keep that tradition for my own family. ♥)

* snuggled Baron and Gracie often

* enjoyed a glass of white wine with Jon to toast to another good week

* lingered in each moment as long as I could

* snuggled on the couch with Jon & the last of the haagen daas (!) after dinner

* ended the weekend deeply peaceful, and deeply thankful for the opportunity to do it all again starting tomorrow.

Your turn: How was your weekend, friends? Do you have any special "Sunday traditions" to start your week on the right foot?

Miles to Me

"The important thing is this: To be able at any moment to sacrifice what we are for what we could become."
-Charles Dubois

Happy Monday night, friends :) I hope that your week has been wonderful to you so far; and that Monday has treated you kindly. I hope your ‘last week’ was a good one, too! Filled with sunshine, new vices (uhm, I totally just discovered the show "Damages" ... and I'm HOOKED) & farmer's market goodies (you can absolutely taste the difference in "fresh from the garden produce") and punctuated by quiet, peaceful, lunch-break picnics... my past week has been a good one for sure.



...With, perhaps, the exception of this pesky post that has been hanging over my head for the past couple weeks.



I'd just like to take a minute to say (and I know I'm preaching to the choir here): sometimes being a blogger is hard. Like, really hard. A blog is a journal of sorts, meaning that first and foremost you are writing for yourself -- but it's also an online journal that is meant to be shared --read by others. And sometimes, that means applying a filter. A filter to preserve the sanctity of a relationship: whether it be a marriage, a friendship, or an unspoken treatise with your own spirit. I've been struggling for the past couple weeks especially over the phrase "year of honesty"... which I loftily promised to all of you way back in January.

Perhaps I should have begun by apologizing... because there's been a huge heartache that I've been battling for months now... and I couldn't for the life of me figure out how and when … and if... to share. (To quash any rumors: my family is fine. I am healthy. My marriage is a blessing that I give thanks for every day, and God is so good... even in the midst of my struggles.)

Writing has always provided catharsis for me, and so it seemed natural to me that I would write about it. It was perfect in theory: I would write about it and put it behind me... shed a few tears perhaps, but pick myself up and move forward with purpose. And so I wrote.... (pages and pages which will never even make it to the "post graveyard") and I prayed. ...And I waited.

And for an awfully long time, I waited in silence. I don't know if I was asking the wrong questions, asking from the wrong place, or if perhaps, the silence itself was the answer. Maybe it was.

At any rate, I'm sure it probably seems like I'm rambling now... but all this to say, writing this post brought all this back to the forefront. And it's back in the forefront because my marathon journey has provided a startling resolution-- and I'm trying to discern how best to give my story justice. Do I need to spill forth everything in order to make the conclusion more satisfying? ... Especially if, despite my best efforts, in the unpolished telling of the story I say something that could hurt someone I care about? Will this really be something I am proud of? Something I can honestly say I put out into the world to make it a better place? (Which may sound trite... but really? Why do any of us blog? It is to fulfill a longing of our heart to create... and an equal longing on our heart to reach out and connect with others.)

My answer? ... No. (Thus the posting delay and multiple drafts sitting on my desktop...)

Romantic as it may be -- ultimately, my redemption will never come from 'spilling my guts' in a blog post. Actually, I tried that in January. ... and while my final effort is one that I am quite proud of, the post I published was a censored & watered down version of reality ... penciling in the happy ending I longed for when, in fact, my heart was not ready to let go and make it a reality.

No, my redemption came, ultimately, when I recognized it was okay to love myself, even in my imperfections. Peace came when I allowed myself to recognize the truth of the situation... grieve , and say, "It's okay, Amy. You're okay. I forgive you."

But, let's start at the beginning:

At the end of last year I was pretty depressed. I believe perhaps it was the culmination of a lot of little things at once -- but in the end, I don't think it matters why. The truth of the matter is that suddenly I was brought to my knees my an aching desire that nothing could fill. And, coming swiftly on the heels of that desire, a deep, searing guilt. I felt incredibly selfish, and dared not speak of my longings to others, for fear that they would judge me. ... or quite frankly (& ironically), tell me to grow up.

And so it was that I plodded along, with a heavy heart, through some of the darkest months in my recent history (as I recall, middle school was no picnic, but I survived that and have been working diligently to forget it ever since :) I didn't see it then, but I recognize now that dealing with this gave a tremendous beating to my self esteem. Eventually, you heart starts believing what your brain is telling it... and mine was telling me that I was selfish, immature, and worthless; that I never finished what I started, and worse: perhaps I never would.

Sometimes it takes something radical to pull us out of the pit-- a radical change, a radical love, a radical promise. And that's what running this marathon became for me: a radical change, a radical love, a radical promise.

Not that I realized it at first, of course. Quite frankly, the only thing on my mind the day I signed up was, "I really need something to do to take my mind off this other stuff..." I knew it was going to be the most challenging endeavor I'd ever taken on. And-- truly? I kind of wanted it to hurt. While I wanted so badly to believe that I could do it, there was a part of me that counted this as my penance. At the time I felt overwhelmed by my failures & shortcomings... and I desperately needed this to be my discipline. I knew it was going to be good for me... but I KNEW I wasn't particularly going to enjoy it.

...And then?...

I DID.



It started when I fell head over heels in love with my running group. The way these people care for each other is absolutely breathtaking. Whether it's in homemade pb&j's served with a smile after long runs, kind words of encouragement throughout the week, or running a couple miles on your day off so that your friend doesn't have to run alone-- this is Community. I was able to join a weekday morning running group, and the ladies I run with have been a special blessing to me.

So, I was loving the group... loving the running (which was a feeling I was scared I would never get back...) And slowly but surely, I gained the courage to fall in love with me again, too.

I am my own worst critic-- and that's something I've always known. But it occurs to me that in recent years, I've been critiquing more than I've been crediting. Running a marathon allows you ample opportunities to critique -- that's part of the beauty of running, an intensely personal sport-- but it also allows ample opportunities for awe. My body can do SO much more than I had ever dreamed. And, perhaps even more importantly for me: my mind can do more than I ever dreamed. I am capable of rising above negative self talk that says, "You're too slow. You're carrying a few extra pounds and you're out of shape. There's no way you can run these miles." I am capable of sheltering & kindling the fire in my heart that burns with the truth,"Oh, yes I can."

I always used to think that I was in the best shape of my life when I was running with the high school cross country team (ulp. 11 years ago...)-- but now I know better: with MiT not only am I running farther than I have ever run before in my life... my approach toward body image and exercise are better than they've ever been.

I knew running a marathon was going to change my life, but I had no idea how much. I had no idea of the changes would rock my world in the months preceding my 26.2 mile trek to the finish line. Today, I am proud to say that I have logged over 200 training miles in my quest toward self discovery. ...And by the time I cross the finish line on October 16, I will have logged many more. And with each step I run, I know I am moving closer & closer to becoming the person I was created to be. I know with absolute certainty that this is what I am supposed to be doing now. It sure isn't easy (I tell you with conviction that running 14 miles was the hardest thing I have ever done. EVER.), but, you know? The most satisfying rewards are those you work the hardest for.



And so, what started as a punishment has become a blessing. And, keeping promises to myself, I keep running; faithfully logging those miles.

Miles to me.

"The true runner is a very fortunate person. He has found something in him that is just perfect."

George Sheehan

Stories Behind the Posts ....

• I really need to learn html (Stupid Meta tags...)
• Honest to goodness, I think the quickest I've ever gotten a blog post up is in an hour. Since I reevaluated my goals and direction in January, it's taken even longer. I always have to tweak one more thing, spell check one more time, etc.
• Sometimes the primary reason why it takes me hours to publish a post is because Gracie is sitting on my keyboard. She can be very persistent.
• The other night I typed up this great, positive, bouncy, Amy-like post. Then I had the audacity to try and upload the final picture (Gracie). ...And somehow, I lost everything in my post before the P.S. You did not want to hear the words coming out of my mouth.
• Comments make my day. Comments are better than dark chocolate, and red wine, and maybe even both together. If you comment, I will respond. I promise ;)
• Inevitably, as I am going about my day, I come up with ideas for the blog. Also inevitably, I am somewhere doing something that I can't write the ideas down, and *sigh* probably a majority of these 'fleeting brilliances' don't make it to the blog. It actually makes me pretty sad. If only I had a better memory....
• I take about 5 pictures for every picture that makes it to the blog. I delete a lot of duds.
• It is ridiculously hard to take a self portrait with a cat in your lap.
• ...It's ridiculously hard to take pictures with cats-- period...
• It is a miracle that I have not spilled wine on my keyboard yet. (Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go knock on my wooden buffet cabinet.)
• I struggle an awful lot with what to say, and what to keep to myself.
• I love the way blogging makes me see everyday events in a different light.
• Jon loves that blogging has turned me into a nerd ;) Hehe. You've still got me beat by a looong shot, honey!
• I have published 131 posts. I have 169 posts in my directory. This means I have about 38 posts in my "Post Graveyard".... That's kind of a lot.

Any blogging confessions?

"Saturday Scene"

Coffee in china cups (because china is for special occassions, and I believe that every day is special in its own right), lots of books, lots of dreaming, lots of writing...

New post coming your way later today or tomorrow :)

Happy Saturday!

Wrangling: {Centered}

(A weekly round up. Once weekly, I am going to “wrangle” the past weeks’ happenings into a post filled with pictures, lists & general tidbits about the past 7 days.)

...And, yes, this is totally a Wednesday feature ... Maybe we can think of this as an April Fools' trick -- Surprise! It's Friday! Next week we'll be back to the regular schedule:)

A peek into my life this week:
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Oh my, I live for lazy weekend mornings. This past weekend was filled with caramel sticky buns (recipe here!), bottomless cups of hot coffee, and leisurely catch-up conversations. Hooray that we're almost to another weekend!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"These Days" (to borrow a phrase from a lovely friend :)

For the past week I've been in a bit of a funk. 2 weeks ago, today, I was riding high: it was a Friday (which never fails to cheer me), and I had finished a whole week of waking early to run & do devotions. I was so proud of myself! I was making positive steps in the right direction ... each day getting a little closer to living my dream. For one hot second, I felt like I had all my (proverbial) balls in the air... and juggling them felt... effortless.

And then the next week they all came crashing down.

Nothing bad happened to cause me to get off track ... life happened. Fatigue pushed, and I didn't push back. I started hitting my snooze button again, and slacking on devotions. ...I knew it wasn't good for me, but, for the life of me, I couldn't manage to get myself out of bed at 5:14... or 5:45 ... or 6:15. Sigh. And the longer I went on like this, the more frustrated I became with myself. ..You know, when you take charge of your life & become the keeper and protector of your dreams, you're really the only one to blame when things start going awry. I felt like I was sabotaging myself. ...Needless to say, this past week was not a great week for my self-esteem.

I haven't talked about it much on the blog, but self-confidence & self-love is something I think about a lot. I think that it's hard not to think about these things (at least sometimes), as we are bombarded daily by both positive (see here!) and negative media influences. I believe that you need to love & respect yourself, so that you can give the best of yourself to others. But we all know that it's one thing to believe in an idea, and another to live it.

I know that what immediately pops into your mind when I say "self-confidence" or "self-esteem" is probably appearance. And while I do deal with periods of self-doubt and negativity about that (i.e.: it was not a good day last week when I shrunk my black "skinny dress pants" in the wash...), for the most part, that doesn't plague me half as much as "life comparison" does. My biggest downfall is when I think, "Boy, she's really got it together..." and I start picking apart my life from there. Rationally, I know that I will never know all the intimate details of someone else's life, and that what I see is, in large part, what they choose to show me. My faith tells me that I am beautiful & unique and loved; perfect in the midst of my imperfections. Yet I falter; and on the darkest days I find myself heartbroken, on my knees and crying out to the universe, "Am I enough?!"

As I "grow up", I am learning how to deal with these situations. It's trial by fire, for sure, but I am learning. I'm learning that it's okay to feel frustrated sometimes, if I allow my feelings to fuel me and push me toward positive changes. I'm learning that sometimes being discontent is a greater power nudging my heart and whispering 'There's something more for you. ... Time to move forward.' ... I decided to let yesterday be the day I turned the corner on my week of "down in the dumps". I'm going to give myself a little grace: no longer dwelling on my failures, but rather, loving myself & paying it forward.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
And now, to pull it all together and wrap this up in true Amy-fashion, here's a Good List for you :)

The "How-I-Pulled-Myself-Out-of-a-Funk" (& other things that just make me happy) Good List:

(Pre-dinner drinks with J. Killians, baby!)

1. Jon, my best friend. Making normal evenings "date night".... chatting together over a drink while we wait for dinner to heat up.

(Most flattering picture ever, hehe. Happy after my run)

2. I came home and went for a tough, but empowering, run yesterday evening. I was determined to sweat out all the 'bad energies' (doesn't that sound very "hippy" of me?) that had been clinging to me for the past week; determined to regain my balance, my center, my focus. I ran my little heart out & returned drained, but peaceful.
And it was good.

3. In the spirit of "loving myself" and paying it forward, I gave myself a manicure last night. Roll your eyes if you must, but having polished fingernails makes me feel a little more polished and together in every aspect of my life. It's the little things that make big differences.

4. Gracie snuggles.

5. Despite the snow that fell Wednesday afternoon and evening, our spring flowers persevere.

6. My present to myself late last week was a frosting bag & tips. (I know this is nerdy of me, but: Squee!!!) This represents so much hope & possibility to me-- I've always wanted to frost the perfect cupcake. I've been stock-piling cupcake recipes from Jenna for who-knows-how-long.... I'm so excited to spend quality time in my kitchen this weekend....

7. {re-focusing} I mapped out my weekend run today. It's a nice little 5k, and I'm excited to run it on Sunday morning!

via

8. Okay, so, as some of you probably know, yesterday was Opening Day. (Fine, I admit it, I didn't know until my boss came in wearing a Cincinnati Reds jersey... bosses are allowed to do things like that, even if it isn't casual Friday... or, you know, Friday ;) Anyway, yesterday afternoon while I was working, he turned on the radio to listen to the game. While this might have been annoying to some people, it didn't bother me at all. In fact, hearing "game audio" reminds me of my childhood: late Saturday afternoons in Carlisle. Of course, with Grandpa it was football, not baseball... but for a girl who hears 'game commentary' much like Charlie Brown hears his teachers ("Wop-wah-wah-wah-wohh..")it's pretty much the same thing. I remember the way soft dusk began to fall outside as my grandma bustled around the kitchen, prompting all sorts of warm & wonderful dinner smells to emanate from the kitchen. We would be upstairs 'playing barbies' (Me & Laurie or maybe even Heidi & my other cousins) and the sounds of the game would drift up. I close my eyes and it takes me back instantly ... and the comfort I feel is indescribable; except perhaps by a deep sigh of my heart.

Love that.

(not quite bread quality, but past when I attempt to eat them)

9. I'm sure you know by now that I am not a fan of bananas. ... But banana bread?! Oh my, Yes! These little babies have been patiently ripening in my kitchen (& actually, it looks like they still have a few days to go!)... just waiting for their minute of glory.

10. Remembering and keeping promises to myself.

"There are few experiences in life in which my physical and psychological abilities are as sharply defined as they are during marathon training and racing...The training and racing experiences have shown me sides of myself that I never knew existed. I've found perseverance, an ability to focus, stubbornness, compulsiveness, bravery, organization, a sense of humor, and a capacity for unbridled joy. "

--Gordon Bakoulis Bloch

Hope you are having a fantastic week, friends.
Any good weekend plans? Do tell!

Identity

(circa 1995)

With each passing year, I find that I become a little bit more nostalgic. It seems that with each memory, each trip back in time; the past gets a little more beautiful. Each time I give myself a moment to get lost in my memories, they get a little sweeter. And when I think back to the world of my childhood, it seems like things were a little easier.

(Yeah yeah, I realize that this makes me sound old to say this. ... Three miles to school in the snow, uphill both ways and all that...)

Really, weren't things easier back then? Back when all we had to worry about was whether we had to play dodge ball in gym that week (I HATED gym class...) and whether our mother had packed us raisins for a snack (although, actually I liked raisins, so my life was even simpler!) Back before our eyes were opened to the real drama & "unfairness" that life could dish out. Back when we were confident and unashamedly true to ourselves...

I think the height of my childhood confidence and self awareness came when I was about 9 years old. I didn't pause to think about how the world perceived me, I moved forward with confidence in who I was. I didn't stop to consider whether my dreams were plausible, I knew what I loved, and therefore, I did what I loved.

When I was nine, I was a little nerd, but I loved every single second of it :) I inhaled literature, and treasured my weekly trips to the school library with my class, and my Saturday sojourns to the local library with my Daddy. I loved school because I thought it was interesting, and my friends were there. I loved church because God was there, and we did some really neat crafts during Sunday school.

At home I was a novelist, furiously scribbling on the backside of copy paper, never editing, never striking out text ... I knew it was perfect. I played outside almost daily. I loved to sing, and did so every chance I got: in the children's choir at church, on the playground with my friends at recess, to myself as I went about my chores at home.

I had absolutely no doubt about who I was: 'I am Amy: singer & novelist.' It was as simple as that. I never worried about whether these things were lasting; I was having too much fun living.

And I have to wonder: at what point did I lose this child-like innocence and clarity?

Now, I feel that I am often paralyzed by anxiety and doubt. Sometimes I am driven to do what I do because I feel like it is the responsible (adult?) thing, and because I feel obligated to, not because I love it. I constantly worry about what other think of me (which is hard to admit... but there's no way I can pretend it's not true.) In a lot of ways, it seems that as I have grown older, I have lost my sense of confidence and identity, rather than gaining it. Rather than growing into myself and my potential, I have been stunted by the expectations of society ... or, what I perceive them to be.

...No more.

For this day forward I want to honor the 9 year old Amy that had big hopes; big dreams; big love. I want to blur the line between what I want to be, and what I am. I want to reawaken to the most essential dreams of my heart. And once and for all I want to take back my life and start living it for me.

I know it's a process, and that this is a journey that I'll be on for the rest of my life. But you know what? I'm okay with that. Perhaps for the first time in my life (or at least, for the first time in a painfully long time) I am okay with everything the way it is right now. In fact, while it's not perfect, I love the "right now". AND (and this is hugely important to me) I'm not going to wait any longer. I won't wait until things are perfect to move forward. I don't need to make changes all at once, as long as I keep moving.

"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves ... Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will find them gradually, without noticing it, and live along some distant day into the answer."

~Rainer Maria Rilke

On Running ...

(me and bff Saundra, Race for the Cure, circa 2005)

If you've been reading the blog for a while now, you know that my relationship with running is ... in a word, complicated.

A brief history:

I first began to warm to the idea of running for fun when I was in 7th grade. To be honest it actually started with the idea of playing volleyball, which I had deemed to be a totally glamorous sport, and worthy of me trying out for. I mean, I'd always enjoyed playing volleyball in gym class, and I had decided that perhaps it was time for me to start doing something with my life which would perhaps *ehem* move me a wee bit further up the social ladder. (It didn't. Ah, hindsight...)

Believe it or not, I did play volleyball with the 7th grade girls' team during the fall of 1997 (Yikes - almost 14 years ago?! How did that happen?)... and while I do think it was a good and valuable experience to be on the team, I was never particularly good at it.

...In fact, I was pretty awful :)

Nevertheless, 7th grade volleyball did get into my head the idea of exercising on a regular basis, and this lead to joining the track team in the spring of 1998, which is really where my story begins. You see, track was where I first met Coach King, who, more than being a great coach, was a truly beautiful person inside and out. She was a fantastic role model: calm, capable, graceful; able to control 20+ 7th and 8th graders without once raising her voice, and oh, so kind. It was she that inspired me to go out for 8th grade Cross Country... which was where my 'running career' ("distance running career"?) really started. After 8th grade, I continued in Cross Country for 2 years in high school, before life intervened (I got a job babysitting after school :), and from that point out I kind of did my own thing.

Until freshman year of college. ... Until Saundra :)

When I look back, I remember that when I first met Saundra I was totally intimidated. One of the ways I had been defining myself to others, in a Christian group I had gotten involved with like this, "Blah, blah ... and I like to run." ...To which they'd reply, "Ah, have you met Saundra? She's a runner, too... she runs like 8 minute miles.." *gulp*

Side Note: I guess this might be the point at which I tell you that I am not fast at all... Never have been...although I hold out great hope that I can still discipline myself and get faster. I am entering the years of my life with the most athletic potential, so they the magazines tell me.... To give you an idea of what I mean by "not fast", I run a 9-minute mile, if I'm running like my life depends on it. My PR for a 5k is 27:xx, and my PR for the half marathon is 2:27:xx... My (running) goals in life are to run an 8 minute mile and a sub-2 hour half-marathon. ...I digress...

But anyway, I met the girl, and she seemed really nice... so when she asked me to run I put on my big girl panties and accepted. And it was fantastic. And it started a friendship that lasted throughout the rest of college and through today. I believe it will probably last forever :)

Saundra and I ran together several times a week for the rest of freshman year, and when we lived together sophomore year, I was in the best shape of my life. We ran 3x a week, and built up to 10 mile runs together. Together, we explored Toledo neighborhoods, while we worked through problems we were facing, talked "school", shared future dreams, and reveled in the magical newness of budding relationships (It was actually a pivotal 'relationship year' for both of us: she met the man that will soon become her husband, and Jon & I went through some pretty defining stuff as well.)

Because I was an engineer and was working off campus (and for the most part out of state) every other semester, we weren't able to live together after sophomore year, but we still held our weekly long-run dates sacred. But then, college ended, she went off to grad school, and I moved home & was left to do my own thing... And, you know how that's going :)

So, as I look back through my running past, something stands out to me. Each time I began running in earnest (which, consequently, I really enjoyed, and they were some of the best times & memories I have), I did it because I was inspired by a strong, beautiful woman. Which makes makes me feel all the more certain about what I am about to tell you.

As soon as I recognized that I had started to see running as a chore, I knew that I wanted to fall back in love with it. I knew that if I really wanted it to "stick", I couldn't just do it because it was good for me, because I needed to fit into a wedding dress (hypothetically, of course!), because I thought it was glamorous, or because someone I loved did it (although, all of those can be valid starting points!) I knew I needed to fall in love.... to fall so deep that it became a sustaining force, to the point that I wanted to do it for me and me alone.

In short, I need to become the woman that inspires me.

I want to reach deep and prove my mettle.

I want to challenge myself as I've never challenged myself before.

I want to have fun... to do it because it feels good and I enjoy being alone in my own brain.

I want to run for joy and not for time.

I want to get out of my own way and just go.

It is because I feel passionately about these things (you might even say this is my runner's manifesto), that I know this time it will stick. And it is with these principles as my foundation that I stand tall and declare to you:

This is the year of the marathon.

(So excited to see where these take me in 2011!!)

Stand Out

This morning came too quickly.

I woke at 5:12 am to find that Baron had finally vacated his spot at the bottom of the bed, so I could finally pull up the extra cover that I had been longing for all night. I pulled up the comforter and snuggled in ... for 2 minutes until my alarm clock beeped.

... or, more accurately, "until my alarm clock drummed" ... I use my phone as my alarm, and it has some of the most eclectic alarm noises (ring tones, I suppose) that I've ever heard. Currently, I am awakened by bongo drums. ... Anyhoo.

I lay in bed for a while, listening to Jon's even breathing, thanking God for a new day, and mentally rolling down the list of things that I had on my agenda for the next 16 hours. After a few minutes of this quiet, half-awake contemplation, Gracie spoke up ("brrrrrreeep, brrrrreep") and hopped onto my chest, reminding me, For goodness sake, Mama... some of us have been awake all night... and we're hungry!

I obliged, fumbling for my glasses & slippers in the dark, slipping out of bed in the cool quiet of the morning. I replenished the cats' food supply, poured a cup of coffee, stroked two silken heads (not necessarily in that order), and then, coffee cup & Gracie in tow, I headed upstairs for what has become a treasured morning routine.

Since the new year began, I have been waking early on weekdays so that I can take time in the morning for quiet reflection & journaling. I crawl into the guest bed (flannel sheets! down comforter! Yes, please!) with my spiral notebook, colored pens & Simple Abundance, and embark on a short but sweet 30 minutes of pure "me time". It has made all the difference in the world. Corny as it sounds, it really helps me to start my day off on the right foot, and it gives me the peace to make a graceful transition from "home-time" to "work-time".

And you know what's cool? One place where I can tangibly see this difference is in my Good Lists. I've found that taking time for morning devotions not only gives me strength for the rest of my day, it really allows the good stuff to stand out. Proof:

Good List:

1. Jon, my wonderful husband. Even as we maneuver through the everyday "mundane-ities" and idiosyncrasies ...
2. New beginnings.
3. Sweet dreams of old friends.
4. Surpassing my own expectations.
5. Joe-Joes have returned to my life :)
6. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling & the moldings around the windows, blessing the house & it's structure... remembering the magic of our first night here, when I lay awake praying, giving thanks for all the life that will fill these walls in the next 50 years ...
7. Sunshine & Star*bucks coffee. Unplugging & withdrawing from the world so that I may draw closer to my Creator & bask in the creativity he has gifted me with.
8. Date nights!
9. Taking back my life :) This will be the year of dreaming and doing.
10. "There is a privacy about it which no other season gives you.... In spring, summer and fall people sort of have an open season on each other; only in the winter, in the country, can you have longer, quiet stretches when you can savor belonging to yourself." ~Ruth Stout
    

Your turn: What are you thankful for today? What tops your list of good things?

Faith Like a Child: How Lucas Saved Christmas

Sometimes I've just got so much that in my head that when I sit down to put it on paper… nothing comes out.

Do you know what I mean?

Sometimes there is just way too much that I want to say-- that I need to say-- and the wanting and needing gets all tangled up in the emotion and then the execution becomes absolutely ... well... exhausting. I've been thinking this post through for quite some time now-- as soon as I worked through it in my life I knew I'd like to write about it to gain some closure. But here I am. Tired and tongue-tied.

It's times like these where I really need to discipline myself to just sit down and let the words flow, rolling seamlessly from my thoughts onto the paper (or screen, as the case may be). ... And I've got a glass of red wine & a purring Gracie within arms reach, so I'm going to try. This may be some of the most raw, un-edited posting you will ever see from me -- But this is me. This is Real. And, ultimately... this is good.

I've always known that one of my biggest (okay... THE biggest) faults is that I'm impatient. I'm very "type A"... I like to have an idea of where things are going, and when I'm going to get there. I've had a basic life plan since I was 12, for crying out loud.

And I think this is why in November, at the age of 24, I felt totally blindsided when I woke up one day and realized that I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. I mean, I really didn't know, and that was scary.

I guess from a lot of angles, it seemed like I'd all ready DONE everything. College? check. Get married? check. Buy a house? check. But when all was said and done, I felt empty. I felt lost, and I felt like there was something wrong with me. You see, the only problem with counting your blessings is that when you are able to recognize all the good things in your life and still feel lonely and sad, there's only one explanation for it.

Clearly, you've gone insane.

I didn't know what my problem was... I'm blessed to be married to my best friend... I am a contributing member in my workplace... I have a lovely home and two delightful (if sometimes badly behaved) cats to snuggle & fill my life with mirth. And yet-- there was this void. I was unhappy, and I didn't have a clue what to do to fix it. I felt like I was stuck in a rut so deep that I couldn't even see the sunshine. Honestly? I felt lonely.

Needless to say, I was definitely not in the holiday spirit. Not at all.

I tried to pull myself out of it ... I really did. I tried every trick in the book: I ate chocolate (my holiday baking did not suffer one iota...); I journaled (pages upon pages); I snuggled with Gracie (spending the better part of some weekends in bed); I exercised (running & I are totally back on, btw); I prayed constantly. And it became clear to me that I couldn't do this by myself. Something outside of me was going to have to intervene.

And on December 19, someone came into my life that was able to yank me out of myself and change my perspective.

On December 19, my nephew Lucas was born.

One memory I will always treasure about his birth day was how we celebrated. Oh, how we celebrated... You see: Lucas is a smart little man. He timed his arrival "just so", and everything fell into place so that a big group of us was together-- Jon & me, both sets of grandparents, Jon's sister from Texas, my parents. We had spent the morning performing the Messiah at Church, and were headed out to lunch together when J's father received the good news via text message (where would we be without technology, right?!) What followed was a celebration of life like I had never been a part of before. There was laughter and tears… and so much love.

I think it was in those moments that I woke up. It was like I had been in a fog for the past 6 weeks, passing through a dream world. I've got to tell you, it was the best wake-up call anyone could hope for. To wake to hugs and kisses & stories told over multiple cups of coffee; homegrown warmth and peace & comfort that only time with family can provide. And it clicked for me… settling deeply and unshakably in my soul: this is what the season was really about-- what life is all about. It isn't about achieving everything on your to-do list, and it certainly isn't about simply moving from point A to point B. My faith tells me that I am right here right now for a reason. My family's love gives me the courage to stand in that moment and own it, even when I haven't yet discovered the gift that I hold in my hands, even now. Their love gives me the strength to laugh in the face of fear-- to smile in the face of the unknown, because their love is the one thing that is constant and unwavering. Their love coupled with my faith gives me the determination to dig deep and stand stand firm on the ground of my "now"… and I know that when the time comes, their love will support & uphold me as I venture forth into new territory. If I cannot say anything else for myself at the end of my life (and, lets be honest, I really hope I can… I'm just sitting here waiting for my divine directive :), I know that if I have created and sustained this kind of family love, it will be enough.

In short, the day was absolutely perfect.

And furthermore, Lucas is perfect. Jon & I brought dinner to his parents (Jon's sister & her husband) several days later, and we got to meet him. ...And we got to hold him; to stroke his downy head and experience the warm weight of a baby in our arms. Together, we rejoiced quietly in all the possibilities that he holds- delighting in his smallness now; wondering at the man he will become.

And it was (and is) good.

********
A brief afterward: Something else that has been important for me to realize is that my soul seems to periodically experience these "winters" of angst and unrest. But, like the earthly season, the winters don't last-- they move gracefully into soft springs.As an optimist, I hold to the hope that someday the "winters" will simply cease to exist … but until that time I will give thanks for the wonderful people who have been put in my life to guide me as I grow.

2011

source

Odd numbers (or perhaps I should say, more correctly, "odd integers") have always fascinated me. If I'm asked to pick a number between 1 and 10, it will always be 3, 7 or 9. Always.

I think part of the reason why I love odd numbers is because they have such individuality to them. You cannot divide an odd number in half without obtaining a decimal answer-- it cannot be wholly divided and it retains parts of the original. And I think that's cool. It follows a basic truth that I have always believed about myself, so innately that I take it for granted most of the time: no matter where I am, what I'm doing, or what outside forces are acting on me to pull me in different directions, I am me. Unique and indivisible.

And all this goes to say, I'm pretty darn excited for 2011.

While I cannot begin to predict where all I'll be going this year (and, you know, part of me doesn't even want to try... aren't some of the best stories rooted in surprises and plans that did not work out exactly as projected?) there are a couple business items I would like to address, which will give you a general sense of direction for the next year.

For a long time now, I have been struggling with the idea of "finding my voice"-- which, when you boil it down, means finding what I'm really good at and doing it consistently. Finding my niche as a writer.

But you know... that's an awfully hard thing to do. And while I've been silent for the past month, I've been mulling this over and over and over. Searching the depths of my heart and soul to find the passion... to find the me that has been lurking below the surface this past year + of blogging, just waiting for her moment to shine.

And you know what? I think I've found her.

I won't go slapping a "label" on myself just yet (i.e.: this is a "blah blah" blog) ... although I have absolutely no qualms about saying, big picture, that this is a healthy living blog ... because I believe that healthy living is, above & beyond all else, about loving yourself and embracing all the possibilities of you-- truly living every moment. (...and that treating yourself right with exercise and nourishing, mouth-watering entrees is just the icing & sprinkles! on the cake.)

But, labeled or not, I do have some promises for you. Promises that will forge a new path for the coming year, and help to define "Amy Around the Corner" a little bit more.

Without further ado, I present to you:

My Blogger's Manifesto

• I promise not to write just for the sake of writing, or to get up a certain number of posts per week. I promise you quality, and that everything I press publish on will be something I am proud of.
• With that said, though, I promise you at least 2 posts per week.
• I promise you honesty. I will not be a tease & say things like "I've been worried about some things" and then not tell you what. In my next post I will tell you exactly what I've been dealing with this past month... and how it played out. Writing honestly means that not every post is going to be dripping with sunshine & butterflies (although, in the spirit of honesty, I admit to you that I am an optimist.... so there will be a decent amount of sunshine) -- I am going to write about things that I struggle with, because I believe that somewhere out there, someone else has dealt with the same thing.
• I promise you pictures :) I do not promise you LOTS of pictures, or gallery quality pictures. But I will give (& take, hehe) more pictures this year.
• And finally, I promise you that the good lists will keep on coming :) Creating them is such a treasured ritual to me... and I think that they are becoming an integral part of my voice here. I love to share them with you. The lists speak from my heart; sometimes more eloquently than any essay ever could.

Won't you join me on this new journey in the new year? I'm thinking 2011 is going to be pretty wonderful :)

(Hello, bloggies! I've missed you!)

Tourist

I love to travel.

I really do. I love the dreaming & planning ahead, the packing, browsing the glossy travel books & getting personalized trip-tiks at AAA, the breathless anticipation of seeing a bright new place for the first time.

J, on the other hand, doesn't seem to really "GET" it. (And, rather than complain about this, I choose to believe that this is a way I can bless him-- by introducing him to the magic & wonder of a fabulous vacation; and by gifting him with the wonderful memories that will live on for years to come.)

I've got this thing that I like to call my "baby bucket list"-- all the things I would like to accomplish, learn and see before a "baby R" enters the picture in a couple years. And within this list, I have a travel section which is small but mighty :) I have 4 dreamy destinations that I would love to see & explore in the near future-- one of them all ready slated for next year's adventure, and the others... well, I may have to set up a little travel fund and dream for a bit longer. But, you know... just the process is pretty magical:)

You see... when you are in a new place, it is second nature to be completely present. Eyes wide open, drinking in the vibrant colors, sounds and smells of a new place. Logging all these things away into your own personal memory vault; writing all these new feeling and experiences into your life story. Traveling somewhere new brings you face to face with the beauty in the small things, and you are powerless to do anything besides recognize it, and rejoice in it.

And I've been blessed with this multiple times in my 24 years, as I've traveled to and lived in different states (MI, WI, TN & parts of my "home state", Ohio) for my engineering co-ops.Each of those places are precious to me (although some stand out above the rest;), and some of my fondest memories across the board are of exploring my new (if temporary) home on foot.

I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned this before on the blog (... in fact, I'm pretty sure I haven't, because it's pretty personal, and I've really struggled with it in the past); but I haven't always been in love with the idea of moving home after graduation. I guess you could say that "it was never really part of my life plan". From the time I was small, I always knew that I would graduate college, pack up my life in a car (erm. or small U-Haul...) and move out of state, striking off bravely to start a new life for myself. After all, that was pretty much what my family had done for generations before me-- and I just knew that I was destined to follow in their footsteps.

And then I fell in love with J. Who, wonderful man that he is, had one inherent fault. He never wanted to leave Ohio. Actually, he never wanted to leave his hometown. Hm. What's a girl to do? Whelp, I married him, and moved back home-- but not without (I'm sorry to say) some complaints and growing pains along the way. (I'll be the first to admit: as much as I've grown in the past few years, I have infinitely more to go! :) I cried and pleaded, but J stood firm: this was his home, and all that was important to him was here; family and friends. And, you know? I couldn't argue with that. The man had a point. And so I adapted.

And then, somewhere along the way, I began to thrive. It's been such a blessing to be close to family (I love celebrating the "little holidays" together as well as the big ones... and, I can't lie, it's nice not to have to spend 8 hours in the car in order to see everyone)-- and, to my delight, some of my best friends (from high school & college alike) have moved to this area as well.

Perhaps more importantly still, my outlook did a 180. I started to see things that I had never seen before, and I started to fall in love with this town. My town. I fell (back) in love with the quaintness of Uptown, the convenience of the (270), the bustling vivacity of the brewery district, and the quiet open spaces of the outlying suburbs which I now call home. I allowed myself to open my eyes and see the beauty in the details, new and old; to view the pulse of the city.... Like, well... a tourist. And it was good.

Today, I am honored to give you a brief picture tour of my hometown.

Enjoy!