Apparently, Year Fourteen is the Year of the Fajita

Recently, Mike and I celebrated our fourteenth wedding anniversary. We often joke that we are romantic by doing the most unromantic things. For example, he unloads the dishwasher for me, and I often clean Banjo’s poop off the lawn in the backyard. While these seem like very unromantic gestures, the “romance” lies in that we find ways to show our love by making our partner’s life easier. We don’t just show our love by huge efforts a few times year; instead, we find smaller ways to show our affection throughout the year.
The night before our anniversary, Mike and I sat on our backyard swing.
“We’re not buying cards tomorrow, right?” he asked me as Banjo tried to convince us to throw a tennis ball for him.
“I’m not buying shit,” I assured him.
Because Mike’s company just switched to working four ten-hour days to allow employees to take three-day weekends, we decided to go to a local eatery for a quick dinner instead of our usual drive to the Ocean Mist, a restaurant almost an hour away from our house.
On the morning of our anniversary, our favorite local brewery announced the release of a new beer, appropriately titled “Make This Romance Last.” I had to pick this up!
At the brewery, I told the clerk why I was so excited for this beer. When he offered to enter our phone number for their rewards program, he offered to enter the purchase in a few hours.
“It’ll send your husband a text letting him know he earned points.”
I offered to skip the points, explaining that the “What the f**k, I thought we weren’t doing anything” dance was best enjoyed in person rather than over the phone.

Fourteen years of marriage requires the fanciest of celebrations (and complementary chips and salsa)! — We were babies when we went to a Paw Sox game for Mike’s 27th birthday!

That afternoon, Michael had his first Chili’s experience. We don’t often eat out, and when we do, we rarely go to chains, choosing instead to support local businesses. Somehow, Chilli’s chicken fingers had come up in conversation. On our way home from his baseball camp, we passed a Chilis. Being starving, Michael worked his magic. “You know, Mom, you did say that Chili’s has the best chicken fingers.” Being ravenous myself, I turned into the parking lot.
Chili’s is like a time capsule. While the mosaic-tiled tables I remembered were replaced by chairs with a chili cut out of the back, Chili’s hadn’t changed. Our hostess seated us in the bar area behind a very dusty display area. She asked us about the rewards program. Since I don’t think I had visited a Chili’s since Mike and I were dating, she had to walk me through signing up so we could receive free chips and salsa.
The menu had barely changed. Michael ordered a combo that included ribs and the infamous chicken fingers. Though he admitted that the ribs were not as good as the ones Mike made, the chicken fingers lived up to the hype. “You don’t even need ketchup.”
That night, we drove to the lovely little eatery near our house. Michael talked insistently about Chili’s. “The chicken fingers were so good… And, if you’re a member, the chips and salsa are free… Have you ever had the fajitas, Dad? We should go to Chilis. When was the last time you went to Chili’s, Dad?”
Finally, thoughts of chips, salsa, and fajitas won. We drove to the other side of the city to go to Chili’s… on our anniversary.
Our waiter, Nate, humored Michael as he requested chips and salsa, explaining, “We’re members here,” with pride usually reserved for professional all-star athletes and Mensa members. Nate graciously humored him with the “members only” chips as Michael proceeded to order the same meal he had for lunch. “Happy anniversary,” Mike and I said to each other too many times while we hovered warms chips and enjoyed draft beers.
On our way out, I insisted we snap a picture. We tried several times as we kept moving to allow cars to drive through. “It’s our anniversary!” I exclaimed to a passing minivan, whose driver waved and gave us a thumbs up.
I have to admit that Chili’s was as good as it was in the 90s. Michael loved the attention that came when Nate brought Mike his sizzling fajitas. On the way home, I showed him the video of Cody Rigsby’s pep talk involving Chili’s fajitas. “I’m going to watch this every single morning,” he promised.
While the local restaurant offers food similar to Chili’s, our priority is to support the local businesses benefiting our neighbors, sponsoring local baseball teams, and driving the local economy.
And here’s my takeaway about a wedding anniversary spent eating warm chips and salsa at Chili’s: I cannot think of a better way to celebrate fourteen years of marriage with Mike. We don’t prove our love through big gestures. Rather, we show our love via quick texts throughout the day, emptying the dishwasher because our partner hates to do it, and all of the little gestures that indicate we love each other enough to work as a team and want to make life kinder and more enjoyable for our partner and our child.

Look at Me Go!

If Banjo could discuss our current relationship

It’s been eight weeks since I had surgery to fix two bone spurs and a torn Achilles tendon. It feels like it was years ago and a blink at the same time. It’s been eight weeks of books, bad TV, and sitting around. Getting injured during a pandemic means more time by myself than I’ve ever spent. It’s reassuring that I can do so but makes me fearful to return to work and real life. Because I’ve always been awkward in social situations and tend to avoid them, the pandemic and the injury were not terrible for me.

Two weeks ago, I was cleared to begin putting weight on my foot. After six weeks on crutches, this was a huge step! While I was afraid of overdoing it and causing more damage, my foot is kind enough to let me know exactly when it is done, almost like flipping a switch.
Eager to get back to normal, I’ve been doing my exercises every day. Since I’ve been fighting this injury for seven months, I’m familiar with which moves increase strength and flexibility. While being unable to run, I focused on yoga, earning my 200-hour yoga certification. Resuming physical therapy is strange and humbling.

My body can do some things as nothing happens but flat out refuses to do something I never considered difficult. For example, I couldn’t step on my tiptoes. After a few days, I could stand on tiptoes using both feet, but my right foot refused to lift independently.

This week, I attempted a twenty-minute yoga session via the Peloton app. Downward dog, considered a resting pose, made my legs burn. It felt good to stretch. Banjo was disappointed that I laid my mat in his prime morning sunbeam, disrupting peak napping.

Through this entire process, Mike has been patient and amazing. He took care of Michael, me, and the house. He took Michael to practice baseball a few times a week, walked Banjo, and took care of every household chore. As I’m starting to get stronger, our exchange has become a mantra, “Look at me go!” followed by “Look at you go!”

I can stumble to the kitchen to get my own Cheerios.
“Look at me go!”
“Look at you go!”
I can get upstairs to bed on my feet instead of crawling.
“Look at me go!”
“Look at you go!”
I can walk around the block.
“Look at me go!”
“Look at you go!”

I have big plans as I continue to recover. They begin small, such as walking Banjo. I’m going to complete the virtual Boston Marathon, even if I had to walk it solo as I did for the NYC Marathon. I contacted Rhode Races to get my comp code for volunteering at the Newport Marathon. I will be signing up for next year’s Narragansett Half-Marathon.

Be prepared for many more cries of, “Look at me go!”

Week Five Reflections

If I can be honest, I am fully aware of my need to only post positively on social media. I have never mentioned the death of a loved one, accidents, or illnesses. Call me old-fashioned, but I believe in delivering such news person to person. That being said, I am always thankful when others post about the passing of people close to them so I can attend arrangements and pay my respects. So this is a weird double standard I’ve created for myself.

Anyway, I’ve been trying to be positive and keep things in perspective, but it is hard. I’ve spent five weeks sitting on my butt, watching documentaries, mind-numbing movies, rewatching my favorite TV series, and reading books. I’ve cleaned the photos from my phone and spent an embarrassing amount of time on my phone. I’ve attempted upper body exercises while watching reruns.

Here are my biggest takeaways:

I need to get dressed each day, which was challenging initially, but I feel better when I do so.
I need to make myself go outside, which is also challenging, but my mental health benefits from sitting outside rather than on the couch in the living room. I ordered an outdoor swing, which Mike put together last weekend, and make myself get out there, even when I think I’m content on the couch watching Friends reruns (again).
People who check in on me are excellent. I fall into a funk, but people reach out, which makes my day.
When I fall into my funks, I genuinely fear that I have forgotten how to be social. I also fear that people have completely forgotten about me. When much of your social interactions involve physical activity, getting injured just as we returned to normal after Covid fosters more loneliness. While I fear that I will never return to the level of activity from which I was once capable, my mind also creates a fear that I will never return to the social interactions that were crucial to achieving milestones pre-injury. (Does that make any sense? TLDR: I’m afraid that my running and NP friends have forgotten me or will not at all care when I can resume activities.)
As the weeks go by, I need to let go of things that used to seem important. Mike and Liam have been amazing. But since everything falls on them, not everything gets done. And that is okay, even if the entertainment stand is covered in dust.
Progress is progress. In the past five weeks, I’ve gone through two casts and a boot. Progress is happening, and it is mine to observe. Seemingly simple tasks, such as taking a shower or going upstairs, are now victories. I need to recognize and celebrate them.
Diet is so important to health. I’d been eating as healthily as I can but miscalculated how many calories sedentary me required by 200 a day, resulting in even more weight gain. I’m up twenty-five pounds from my marathon weight and look forward to being active again and getting rid of the extra weight, which will further aid recovery.

In the past five weeks, I’ve seen a lot of progress, even if it comes in the form of moving my foot side to side. There will be a lot more progress in the next few weeks and months!

Admission: Sometimes Anxiety Wins

When teaching The Catcher in the Rye, I ask my students to write an essay about explaining that Holden was either psychologically damaged or just a kid going through a tough time. While debating the character, a student, one who suffered from bouts of mania, said one of the most profound observations:

“Everyone is psychologically damaged. What makes some people seem insane is their inability to hide it.”

I’ve carried his words with me for over a decade, reminding myself to “hide my insanity” when it might be showing.

I have struggled with anxiety for as long as I can remember. I remember creating escape plans to get out of my classroom if various catastrophes arose. It has taken me over forty years, but I have learned to live with and manage my anxiety. I do not talk about it; talking about it makes it available to creep into my head. I greatly admire people who are open with their struggles, but my journey just isn’t something I am comfortable sharing with the world.

The silver lining to managing my own anxiety is that I am equipped to help Liam manage his anxiety. He’s learned breathing and grounding techniques and I encourage him to talk about things that worry him. We create plans to help him cope and discuss strategies to keep his anxiety from taking over his mind.

For the past few weeks, my anxiety has been creeping back onto the scene. We’ve had a bunch of small, first-world type issues come up that have required hours of attention at a time. It started around Christmas, when my car broke down, forcing me to purchase a new one on Christmas Eve. This spiraled into me not being at all ready for the holiday, a holiday I wanted to be as great as possible since it was most likely the last Christmas that Liam will believe.

Those few days reminded me of my need to be a “precrastinator,” or someone who gets things done early. Interestingly, Liam follows this trait, getting his homework done immediately after school. I have suggested that he spend time at afterschool care playing with his friends. He explains that his brain won’t let him do that; he cannot relax and play until he knows his homework is completed. Since his mom has lesson plans done at least six weeks ahead of time, I totally understand where that comes from. If skipping an after school round of four square is what he needs, then I support that.

I’ve been focusing on helping Liam learn to live in his head.

I try to pretend that my head is perfectly fine. I try to pretend I have it all together. My need to keep everything organized and orderly may seem like my perfectionism at play, but it is something my mind needs to stay calm.

Yesterday, after a few weeks of first-world problems eating a lot of my energy, I felt a panic attack coming on. It has been years since one managed to surface. I was supposed to stay after school for curriculum building, but I canceled, explaining that I needed to leave for my own well-being. (I am beyond blessed to work with people who understand this is important.)

Here’s what I did to get myself back on track:

Picked Liam up earlier than usual from afterschool care

Played with he and Banjo until Banjo was too tired to chase the ball

Made dinner with Liam- and let him make garlic bread

Went for a run while listening to Mumford and Sons

Put together my new lid organizer, which will help me avoid frustration every time I go into that cabinet

Checked to see how many animal crackers Banjo could catch in a row

Watched the latest Young Sheldon with Liam

After he went to bed, Banjo and I watched This is Us

Tried to put my thoughts into words

I’ve worked so hard to manage it, but my anxiety is not something I should feel I have to hide. As someone who tries to look like I have everything together, this is sometimes hard to accept. The truth is, my need to have everything organized and prepared is a small part of my plan to keep my mind at bay. Running and staying active is another piece of the puzzle. The best I can do is try to better myself, allow myself to struggle and do things that scare me, continue the quirky habits that keep my mind calm, and try to make others feel loved and supported.

Keise Laymon said it best in his memoir Heavy:

“Some broken folk do whatever they can to break other folk. If we’re gon be broken, I wonder if we can be those other kind of broken folk from now on. I think it’s possible to be broken and ask for help without breaking other people.”

What I Learned After (almost) a Month of Streaking

Last month, I decided to join my November Project tribe for a month of streaking. Each day, we would run a minimum of one mile, tracking on Strava to keep us honest. It seemed like a good idea- I like the accountability, especially during the holidays. I cannot remember the last time I didn’t gain five pounds between Thanksgiving and New Year then struggle to lose it in January.

The first few days were easy. I usually walk the dog for three-quarters of a mile each evening. It seemed easy enough to change into running clothes and go an extra block or so to complete the mile. Then Mike went to Tennessee for a week, leaving me with Liam and Banjo. During these days, I had Liam scoot along with me. Yes, he could have run, but I wanted to keep a faster pace.

Here are my takeaways after thirty-one days of running daily:

You can make time if you want. One of the days Mike was gone, I had a faculty meeting after school and didn’t get home until 4:30 and had to get Liam to his Christmas concert by 6:30. I still managed to get in my mile! I snuck out after opening gifts on Christmas and ran a mile and a half.
A mile is a short enough distance to run without having to wash your hair. The need to shower and wash my long hair often keeps me from running because it adds an extra hour to the time needed, making longer runs impossible in the morning. (Mike leaves for work at 6:15 and we are out of the house by 6:40; if I were to run in the morning, I would need to get up at 4:30. Yes, I know it is technically not impossible, I just don’t want to do that since I already go to bed before 9:00 to wake up by 5:30.) Because the weather was supposed to be terrible that afternoon, I was able to get the mile in before work. I pulled my hair up and took a quick shower. I also ran my mile one night after going to the hair salon. I didn’t pull it up or wear a hat, and it still looked salon good the following morning.

Selfie I sent my hairdresser after I promised I wouldn’t ruin her blowout running

3. My body craves the movement. Of course, there were a few days in which I procrastinated, but I enjoyed getting out there and proving I could do it.

4. Running is mind over matter. Well, I already knew this, but the challenge reinforced it.

5. I CAN RUN A SUB-TEN-MINUTE MILE!!!!! That has been my goal for years. As a former fat kid, the Presidential Physical Fitness test was my nemesis. To make matters worse, my maiden name started with an “A,” forcing me to go first. The rest of my class struggled to watch my feeble attempts at situps or pull-ups. The standard ten-minute mile forever eluded me. It is nice to know that I am in better shape than I was in 1989.

6. I know my body. Notice the title says “almost.” I caught a terrible case of bronchitis, leading to two trips the doctor, rounds of antibiotics and Prednisone, and even a nebulizer breathing treatment. During the worst days, I knew better than to try and run, but I still made myself go out and walk for a mile. The cold, fresh hair helped my lungs and I felt like I was staying with the challenge.

If I had not caught bronchitis, I would have kept up my mile a day habit. Now that I have pretty much recovered, I’d like to start it up again. After a month of running every day, going a week with nothing seems weird. I am excited to see if I can maintain those faster speeds on longer runs and PR in my next half -marathon in May. Yet again, I am thankful for stepping out of my comfort zone and challenging myself. Also, I managed to not gain my usual five pounds of holiday weight! While this challenge was not about weight, that was a nice bonus!

2019 Goals

Teachers enjoy two “new year” beginnings, one in January and one in September. So far, I have done a nice job maintaining several of my school year resolutions. I have been going to bed early and getting lots of sleep. I have been meal planning. I pick up the house a little bit each day and have been doing a good job of keeping up with laundry, avoiding the need to spend most of Saturday morning cleaning.

Where I am slacking is when it comes to working out. I have not gone for a single run after school. The main reason for this is being in a new school with a new curriculum. Because I stay at school a lot later than I did last year, I head home to pick up Liam and avoid spending even more on after-school care than we already do. Liam has promised to start running with Banjo and me in the afternoon. While the runs aren’t long or fast, they include bonding and watching Liam set goals.

This start to the new year has me thinking about my goals. I have my students email weekly goals. When they ask why they need to email me their goals and create a plan to reach them, I explain that a goal without a plan is nothing more than a wish. Sharing them makes them real.

When I first decided to sign up for a half-marathon, my husband told everyone. I was not as excited to share the goal, mostly for fear I would fail and everyone would know. Once everyone knew I was planning to run two half- marathons in 2018, I had to make sure I was able to achieve this goal.

Setting these goals makes me think a lot about what I want to achieve next year.

So here, in random order, are my 2019 goals:

Run a thirty-five minute 5K. I just finished reading Deena Kastor’s Let Your Mind Run. She talks about her goal of running a fifteen minute 5K. I’m focusing on my own goals. Cutting a minute off of my 5K PR would put me in the thirty-five-minute range. I would be happy with that.

*In the time between my first draft of this and when I got back to editing it, I shaved forty seconds off my 5K, putting me at 35:59. Next goal is to make it to 34:59!

Cut a minute and a half off my half-marathon PR: I know that isn’t a lot over 13.1 miles, but it would put me in a 12:29 pace. For some reason, dropping down a ten-second increment sounds likes an awesome goal!

Do a handstand: I’ve been able to do a headstand for a few years and want to transition to a full headstand. I think a lot of it is mind over matter; I need to get over my fear and make it happen.

The Best Terrible Race of my Life

This weekend, I ran the Newport Half Marathon. A few days before the race, my friend Kerri sent me a text saying that she was thinking about running the half. I sent her this clip from How I Met Your Mother in which Barney decides to run the NYC Marathon. My favorite line is when he says, “You don’t train for a marathon, you just do it.” She was convinced and decided to register hours before the deadline.

I was not well prepared and dropped the ball on a few last-minute needs, such as drinking a lot of water the night before and getting to bed early. Mike ordered tickets to see Christina Aguilera the night before the race. Because he had to work the following morning, we decided to only stay for a few songs. Even though we left early, we still didn’t get home until almost eleven. I had to be out of the house by 5:15 the following morning. The show was amazing! I’m sorry that we couldn’t stay for the entire set.

In case you’ve ever wondered what Easton’s Beach looks like before sunrise.

The next morning, I woke up an was out the door on time. Liam woke up with me to wish me good luck. He asked if I was excited to run thirteen miles. When I said I was more excited for when it was it was over. “Why do you pay money to do something that sometimes sucks?”

“To prove myself that I can.”

That’s why this race represented: proving I can set and achieve a goal.

I rode the shuttles to the starting line and found my friends a few minutes later. We chatted for a bit and lined up for the race. The first few miles went by pretty easily. The scenery was beautiful as we ran around the island. About mile five, my left leg started to hurt. When Mike and I lived in the apartment, I broke my foot. It usually aches a little bit on the first cool, damp day of the season. Race day was the day it decided to ache. I tried to avoid it by changing how I landed; that caused other parts of my leg and foot to ache. Around mile six, I accidentally paused my apple watch, making it difficult for me to track distance and pace for the rest of the race. By mile ten, I told my friend to go ahead. I texted Mike and tried to keep my mind off the pain. As I reached Bellevue Ave’s Forty Steps, I was in tears. I had to catch myself to avoid going from simply hyperventilating to full-on panic attack. I couldn’t breathe. Every step ached. Mike asked me if there was a first aid station or someplace to stop. I knew the injury was simply an old one showing its face and there was nothing they could do to help me. Most importantly, I didn’t work this hard to only make it to mile ten. I relied on all of my “this run sucks” tricks. I listened to my favorite music. I reduced my interval timer. I pulled up Pokemon Go on my phone to divert my attention. I felt weak and alone. I questioned why I thought I could do this.

I sobbed for almost a half mile, then had an epiphany: I was going to finish this race. I set a goal to complete two half-marathons in 2018 and didn’t work this hard to quit at mile ten.

I finished at 2:55:35, ten minutes slower than my first half but still under my original three-hour goal.

I celebrated with my friends. We posted pictures on Facebook, sharing Kerri’s last-minute decision to run the race.

Still smiling after the race (and I had no idea that my headband had moved)

Before the race, I ordered two sneaker tags for Kristin and me to celebrate our achievement. I gave the two of them to my friends and placed an order for one for myself. The Etsy shop owner sent me another one at no charge. I love that races bring out the best in people.

Running has taught me that I can do anything I set my mind to.

Running has provided an amazing set of friends. I am doubly blessed to have an amazing group of yoga buddies and running buddies.

Running provides an excellent example for Liam. He sees me struggle and work hard. He runs with me and together we celebrate his victories. He’s set a goal of running a ten-minute mile.

I’m not sure what the future holds when it comes to long-term running goals. I sometimes considered putting my name in the lottery for the New York City Marathon. However, when I think about how exhausted I was at the end of this half, the thought of that being the halfway point and doing another thirteen miles seems impossible. That being said, I may let fate decide if I am meant to run a full marathon.

The Race I Needed

This view makes it worth waking up at 5am!

During my first round of BRG, my goal was to run the Gaspee Days 5k in under forty minutes. I managed to finish in 39:11, keeping a 12:39 pace. Less than a year later, I completed my first half marathon in 244:59, which averaged to a 12:36 pace. I was beyond proud of this. That same pace I struggled to maintain for 3.1 miles was kept for another ten miles.

This summer’s plan was to train for a second half. It did not go as planned. It was a hotter than usual summer. I hurt my knee, putting a damper on the best intentions. When I did go out for my long runs, my pace was slower than before I began running. During last week’s 11.3 mile run, my pace was 14:59. Fear of being unable to complete the long runs prevented me from pushing myself. I struggled to determine whether this slip was physical, mental, or both.

With one week to go until the half, I know I will finish. I know I will not PR, but I know I will be able to complete the race. Today was the Ocean Road 10k, which was perfectly timed for my tapering before the Newport Half. Set on Ocean Road in Narragansett, the race provides beautiful views!

Because even my shorter runs have been slow, I went into today with low expectations. It was a beautiful morning surrounding my some of my favorite people in the world. We have different strategies for tackling races; mine involves intervals.

My realistic goal was to complete the 10k in under an hour and a half- my times have been so slow that I would have been happy to keep a thirteen-minute-mile pace. Not only did I finish the race in an hour and eighteen minutes, I almost managed negative splits! (Mile four had some hills that slowed me down.)

The views were amazing. The crowd was positive and inspiring. I had some of my favorite people cheering for each other. It is hard to believe that I have only been a part of this running community for less than two years; I am beyond grateful to the people who support me, encourage me, and inspire me. They have convinced me that I can conquer goals that I never would have considered for myself. I love surrounding myself with people who celebrate the successes of others. I cannot wait to see how what the years ahead of us hold!

Has Anyone Seen my Motivation?

Here I am, less than one month from my next half-marathon, and I have not run more than six and a half miles to train for it. There have been quite a few reasons for this:

It was unusually hot this summer. We had several heat waves and several stretches of days with heat indexes over 100. I just couldn’t run in the heat.
I’m nursing my knee. I went to the doctor in May and could not find the cause of the pain. Acupuncture helped, but I haven’t made it there in almost a month. I’m so nervous about further damaging my knee that I haven’t gone out as much. And when I do go out, I am not pushing myself as hard as I should out of fear of further injury. I am slower than ever.
Time Time Time Summer is always busy. The new school year has me putting in multiple twelve-hour days each week. I bring my running clothes with me with the intention of changing and getting to 6:00 running club, but I have been staying past 6 and, when I leave, my brain and body are much.

These may seem like valid reasons, but they do not change that fact that, four weeks from now, I will be running thirteen miles. I hoped to shave five minutes off of my first time. I hoped to be a little thinner and a little stronger. I have gained weight instead of losing it. I’ve almost finished LIIFT 4, so I’d like to think I am a little stronger.

So I have four weeks to prepare for this half. I will head out Wednesday for a ten-mile run. At this point, I am no longer concerned with beating my previous time; I am determined to complete a goal I set for myself- to run two half marathons in a year!

Something Amazing

Guys! I did something horribly amazing- I gained ten pounds in a very short amount of time. It happened so quickly that I didn’t even realize it until I was back to my “Oh no” weight. (Does anyone else have a hierarchy of weights? (Mine are happy, okay, watch it, oh no- do something)

After finishing the half, I continued to eat as though I was still running twenty miles a week. Liam decided he did not want to continue with Laid-Back Fitness. (Nothing happened, he just wanted a break.) Without Liam’s parent discount and the time for me to workout while he is in class, it didn’t make sense for me to continue. I hurt my calf doing speedwork and couldn’t run for over two weeks. It got ridiculously hot. Then we went on vacation for a week, following the mantra “do what you want” for eight days.

My view for a week during our annual trip the beach house.

I was up five pounds the day we went away. When we returned, I was up ten. That is what eight days of eating cinnamon rolls and bacon for breakfast will do. I am not a huge drinker, sometimes going weeks without even having a single adult beverage. While on vacation, Mike and I drank beer each night while sitting outside, listening to the waves, watching the stars, and chatting away. With beer came cheese and crackers and, before we knew it, we were indulging in a day’s worth of calories after Liam went to sleep.

When I returned home, I fearfully crept on the scale, learning I was up five pounds in eight days. Time to get back on track! This week marks the official start to training for my second half marathon. Now that I know I can run thirteen miles, I want to focus on getting stronger and faster.

I’ve worked too hard to only come this far. It’s time to hit the reset button and get back on track.