Smushball

A haircut later, and three weeks of getting adjusted, our little Moose has become a comfortable member of the family.

My Little Moose Goose...

It's official: I'm in love with two different men.

I drove down to Atlanta this past Saturday in an attempt to adopt Moose (who at the time was named "Stiffler"... not so flattering, I know). It was a long 6.5 hour drive, but I knew it would be worth it in the end. I walked into the adoption wing of the PetSmart that he was being held at, and I immediately saw him lying flat out in his cage. The girl at the adoption desk was expecting me, and she put him directly into my arms. I felt like I was holding a little cumulus cloud. The poor little guy seemed to be overtaken by the other cats; when they would all rush out to use the scratching post, he found it too tiresome to try and compete with his cellmates. I told him I was taking him home with me.

After a brief shopping trip, and filling out all the adoption paperwork, I got Moose into my carrier and took him out to the car. I was expecting constant meowing the entire 6.5 hours home, but no, not one peep! He jumped up when he heard my can of Dr. Pepper opening, but that was it. We got home at night, and it was completely dark... Ryan and Aiden weren't quite home yet. I brought him in to the front hallway, still in his carrier, as I went upstairs to fill his litterbox. This was the first time I heard his little voice yelping out... he wanted to explore! When I opened his gate, he slowly walked out, and went into the first bedroom. He stopped in the middle of it, looked around, and quietly stepped into the room next door. He repeated this for every room in the house. You could just see a thought bubble coming from his head saying, "This'll do."


We've now had him for almost three days and are just enjoying every moment. He loves to sleep and rest on the window seat in our bedroom, as well as sprawl across the center of our bed. He doesn't like lying on any of the floor pillows I got him (of course!), and always likes to sit where he can see everyone. He constantly purrs, is so very affectionate, and has the most friendly temperament I've ever witnessed in a cat. He took to his litter box immediately, and could act as a tour guide in our home. He knows it inside and out already. I think this adoption was meant to be. : )

I've scheduled his first check-up/wellness appointment for this afternoon, so we can make sure everything's in order. Exotic short/longhair cats have excessive eye tearing due to their squinty eyes and smushed faces, so when I first saw Moose, he needed a serious eye-cleaning. I've been cleaning his eyes little by little each day with a warm washcloth as to not startle him. He has his first grooming tomorrow, so hopefully that will give him a nice clean base, and then maintaining his eyes and coat will be easy sailing from there on out. He really is a little puffy bundle of joy.

Like all adopted animals brought into a good home, I think he knows he's being taken care of now. I sit there and look at him, wondering how in the world someone could cast him away... It's just unthinkable to me. I'm completely attached to this sweet guy after just three days; I've given him a home, and he's given just as much back to me. If you have the capacity to take care of a pet, adopt today. You won't regret it.

Chop Chop (Again)

Chopped off the hair! For real this time. I've been meaning to since the wedding (almost one year ago!), but just never got around to it. I even got the whole bob thing going on.

*Disclaimer about the sword: Ryan and his friends all took pictures of themselves doing something ridiculous with this Nerf sword as a present for one of their buddy's birthdays (ie, Ryan was photoshop-ly slaying a dragon). It uh... is pretty awesome, so I had some fun with it afterwards. And I kinda look like I could kick some ass here, huh?

Groucho

Meet the soon-to-be newest member of our family, Moose. It's not set in stone yet, but as long as we get along when I meet him this weekend, I'm taking him home with me! He's a 7-year-old exotic longhair who is apparently very playful, follows you around like a dog, and never meets a stranger. He's an older cat, but I think Ryan and I can give him a really good home. And just look at that smush face!

Where I'm From...

Ryan and I are taking a trip up to Vermont this September (plane tickets booked!). In tribute, I'm reposting an entry I made in my old blog years ago about Vermont and my childhood. I can't wait for him to finally experience everything that I've been injecting into his brain about my home state for all these years. Enjoy!
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I'm from a little town in a little state. Hinesburg, Vermont. Nothing that Google Satellite has ever been able to identify. My little street was Silver Street, and it was my years here that my head was filled with secret paths leading to hidden hideouts, goblins, and the mysteries of bumblebee hill. You had to have quite an imagination if you grew up in Vermont; there were no neighborhoods with kids to play with, and I had the pleasure of having only two TV channels... both were fuzzy. I used to play "Ms. Adventure!" with a little twig (aka, my "wand") and roam around the woods trying to find something cool; the best I came up with was slugs.

Our neighbor was Harold, one of the friendliest old men you will ever come across. Even when I was that young, I still was able to appreciate how nice he was. He still lives in that old, green house to this day. My dad used to hit golf balls out in the front yard, and Harold never said a word about them coming onto his property. He's a good man. His front yard was filled with lilac trees and at the time, it was the sweetest most wonderful scent I had ever come across.

I had my very own raspberry bush, and it was always an exciting trip to go pick the berries in the late summertime. We also grew carrots and tomatoes, and squash and pumpkins in the fall. Everyone in town just about bought their pumpkins from 254 Silver Street; we'd leave out empty coffee cans at the end of our long gravel driveway and collected the money for the gourds on the trust factor. Even if there were only a handful of dimes and nickels, it was so exciting to me to make what seemed to be a small fortune.

Summer in Vermont was also when my dad would take us for rides in the back of the pickup truck up the street to the local diner for Creamies (aka, soft-serve ice cream). Rainbow sprinkles were my staple; my teddy bear Snowball would get a taste occasionally if I was feeling generous.

In the peak of summer (the whole two months that it was actually "hot"), we would go to my Aunt and Uncle's house at Lake Iroquois. It sounds like it would be far away, but it was just a quick little drive across town. We'd go out on the motorboat, and I'd sit in the seats in front of the driver; the boat would go up on it's side and I thought that was the definition of freedom. When you get to the other side of the lake, you can see the old 1960s camps and docks that my dad would play at when he was a kid. It's weird to think of "Good Golly Miss Molly" playing as he's jumping off into the water with all of his cousins; all the people I know to be in their 50s and 60s today. It's hard to fathom that we've all experienced childhood.



In the winter, there was no such thing as "snow days" unless there was a blizzard outside. We'd pack our snow clothes up every night, and lug them to school every day. My classmates and I would roll down the snow-covered hills for recess every afternoon, and then come back to our classrooms as red and purple as mixed berries. With the size of my cheeks back then, I looked like an oompa loompa.

As a class project, we'd go collect and measure the sap from the tree sitting outside my kindergarten classroom. I had the same teacher from K through 2nd grade. Mrs. Barber. We wrote letters back and forth once or twice a year after I moved to North Carolina, but I surprised her about 4 years ago when I went back to visit. She just screamed "JESSICA!!!!!" a moment after she saw me. I guess teachers really can imagine their little students growing into adults.

Fieldtrips usually always involved walking to our destination, whether it was the town library, going to visit the fire department, or walking up to the sugar house to see maple syrup being made. It seemed like a journey to get there back then, but it was probably only a mile away up the hill in the center of town. It's still there today, and is always closed up when it's off-season; you can peak in though and see all the empty buckets ready for fall to come again.



So many times a year, we would go on our hikes up Camel's Hump... one of the closest mountains. Every time I visit, I try to make my way up there. I can't sprint up the rocks like I used to, but I am reminded of how hard of a climb it is, yet how gratifying it is to finally reach the top. Words can't describe the view and the feeling up there. One time we met a man who was hiking nonstop through all of New England, and this was his lunch destination for the day. He'd sleep wherever he could find a dry place to pitch his tent. He looked so weathered, but you could tell from his face that he had seen some really beautiful things. I questioned whether or not I could hold up doing that. I'd like to think I could.



That's me on my last trip up there. I miss it. Have you ever found one place that recenters you when you're there? Whether it puts things in perspective or just rejuvenates your spirit? This is it for me. I feel a little chipped away each year I stay away; life has too many distractions to take time out for this, and I need to start ignoring them. I will always be a little Green Mountain girl.

Oh... New England.

Welcome to Happy House! Located in the Oak Bluffs district of Martha's Vineyard, Massachusetts (in case you're unaware, Martha's Vineyard is an island off of Cape Cod, MA). Ryan, Aiden, and I stayed here for an entire week of New England bliss. Yes, we were blissful Blisses! And it was indeed a happy house. A few highlights of the trip (see more photos in the slideshow at the end of this post):

We took a couple trips to Tashmoo--a beautiful, private, and quintessential New England beach that can only be accessed by driving for miles on a hidden, bumpy dirt road. Ryan caught some clams there, we went in the freezing crisp water, caught crabs through the rocks on the jetty, collected the gorgeous beach rocks and sea glass, and just enjoyed every moment. We even got to see a private wedding ceremony take place right on the rocks.


Every morning we would walk and get coffee, doughnuts, or bagels from Back Door Donuts. Every morning or afternoon (depending on our main activity for the day), we'd play croquet in the lawn surrounding the Tabernacle in the center of the campground. Who knew that game was so much fun?





On another gorgeous day we went kayaking out on the lagoon. We met a lovely little french bulldog named Betty Olive (owned by the woman running the kayak rentals) who Aiden and I wanted to take home with us. The lagoon was just gorgeous, and I continually pined for all the lovely cottages that lined the banks.



In the meantime, we enjoyed all the quaint and unique little shops and restaurants covering the island. I got my tie-dye Black Dog shirt after dining at the Black Dog Tavern in Vineyard Haven. We repeatedly got blocks of fudge from Murdick's and ice cream from Mad Martha's, tried out the supreme nachos at Sharky's (holy cow!), and I tried my first fresh oysters at the Oyster Bar Grill. Aiden discovered the "best cheeseburger ever" at Nancy's, right on the harbor (which we visited about three times throughout the week). My favorite meal of the trip though was getting fresh lobsters and clams from the fish market, and cooking them at home in our cottage. After Aiden went to bed, we'd have a glass of wine out on the porch in our rocking chairs. I don't think life could get much better.



Every morning I ran a 4-mile loop and came back along East Chop Road (where East Chop Lighthouse is located). It had the most breath-taking view and the most beautiful cottages lining the street. Every morning the same elderly woman would be sitting in front of the lighthouse looking out over the water. And I understood exactly why she did it. I hope one day to live in a place like this that simultaneously has such vitality and tranquility. What a gem.

One afternoon we strolled down to the Flying Horses Carousel. On Aiden's second ride, and my first, we both caught the brass ring! There's only two per ride, and those two riders get to stay on for a free ride. Ryan's been going to MV since he was a kid, and has yet to get the brass ring. We were excited to say the least. : )





Getting there and departing from the island was an adventure of it's own. We had bought our ferry tickets months in advance so we could bring our car over. The fog was so thick on our trip over that I wasn't able to see the island until we arrived, but on the trip back to Cape Cod, I saw West Chop Lighthouse from a distance, and even saw some seals in the water. What a magical air when you're standing on the deck of that ferry, and what a truly magical place.

When I Think of Heaven...

Sooooo...

Point A: I have the best husband in the entire world.
Point B: I unexpectedly saw my old love Adam Duritz, aka Counting Crows, the other night. Key word being unexpectedly.

We had yet to have a proper Father's Day celebration for Ryan's dad, so Ry informed me that we'd be going to Lucky 32 in Cary to finally have a family dinner for the occasion. I'm the direction guru in our little family, so when I saw Ryan swerving to take a right a bit early, I yelled at him, "WRONG WAY!!!" He slyly smiled at me and said, "Oh, we're not going to dinner." And then in we pulled to the Koka Booth Amphitheatre to see my beloved Counting Crows, the band I have been obsessed with since I was 14. I am so incredibly lucky to have a husband who takes so much pleasure in surprising me.



Naturally, a few screams of excitement came out. And then the realization that not only did we have tickets (I assumed lawn seats, naturally, which were super expensive anyhow, thus me not buying tickets in the first place). But no, Ryan pulls out fifth row seats. FIFTH ROW SEATS. I could practically touch Adam's dreadlocks!

Counting Crows is that band in my life that accompanied me through adolescence and young adulthood, through all the tribulations that at that moment are the biggest deals in the world to you. You're having first experiences, dealing with new emotions, developing into an adult that you don't really know yet. And their music was the anthem for this period in my life. So no matter what I do, no matter how my life has changed or how old I am, hearing this band's music always makes a little rumble in my DNA.

Anyhow, it was a great show... and I even nudged my way to the front row for a while (see below). When I think of heaven, deliver me in a black-winged bird.

Dude.

I have no willpower to write anything else right now.

It's Only Tuesday...

(P.S. Blogging about the MV trip soon!)

Pink Glove Dance

This video has over 10 million plays on YouTube... and quite rightly. It's a video made by St. Vincent Medical Center in Portland, Oregon to promote breast cancer awareness. It's so amazing how these employees--doctors, cafeteria workers, business officers, janitors-- all came together for such an important cause... and they look so happy doing it!

I work at UNC-Chapel Hill at the Friday Center for Continuing Education (woot woot!), and we're about to celebrate the 90th birthday of our founder, William Friday. My department is responsible for making a massive card for it for all employees to sign; however, Ryan had a great idea to do something like this video instead. What a great way to genuinely get our message across to him of how much he's meant to the University and what an incredible milestone he's reached. Plus he gets to see the face of all the people that make up the heart of the Center. That's a bit more special than a plain old card with signatures!

So, enjoy the video. : ) Who doesn't love happy tears?

Martha's Vineyard

So we leave for our family vacation this coming Sunday for Martha's Vineyard! My first vacation since the honeymoon... so it's very much needed. As you probably know, Martha's Vineyard is a quaint, beautiful island off the coast of Massachusetts. Ryan's family owns one of the little gingerbread houses in the Oak Bluffs area, right in the center of town. How lucky are we?

Ryan spent many of his childhood vacations here, and he's been wanting to take me up there ever since we started dating-- after all, it's the quintessential "New England." And I love anything New England. : ) So I'm banking on a full lovely week of the following: fishing, eating lobster, clamming, walking, kayaking, drinking wine, visiting little shops and bakeries, and most importantly, relaxing. Most vacations seem to be so jam packed with activities in order to take full advantage of your days off from work that it's hard to fully experience the place you visit; however, the environment of Martha's Vineyard caters to the old-fashioned summer vacation... enjoying the outdoors, spending time with your family, and appreciating the little things in life.

Here's just a few of the little stops I'd like to make on our trip (those within walking distance are my favorite!):

Mad Martha's Ice Cream
Vineyard Haven, MA







Flying Horses Carousel
Oak Bluffs, MA
The nation's oldest operating carousel. If you catch the brass ring, you get a free ride! (Know the Dispatch song "Flying Horses"? Yep, this is it!)



The Black Dog Tavern and Bakery
Vineyard Haven, MA
Opened in 1973. Self-explanatory!








Murdick's Fudge
Edgartown, MA
Murdick's Fudge has been making fudge and brittle with the same recipes since 1887.

Laughing at My Desk Hilarious

I watched this movie "Run Fat Boy Run" when it came out on DVD, and for some reason (despite the less-than-phenomenal reviews), I loved it. I don't think I stopped laughing for 30 minutes after I watched this scene. Being a runner probably contributed to that fact, but I can't imagine that this wouldn't hit everyone's funny bone. Warning: I also have an unnerving love of physical comedy. Enjoy!

A huff and a puff...

Nope, I don't have one yet. But hear me, hear me! One day! Ryan and I are planning to call our future wrinkly friend, Theodore Roosevelt. Nickname: Teddy. : )

My Best Friend's Wedding

No, I'm not speaking of the 1997 Julia Roberts film. Wishin' and hopin' and thinkin' and prayin'. Tomorrow I experience my actual best friend's wedding! Except for a few small differences:

1. My best friend is a girl.
2. I'm not in love with her. (I do love her though!)
3. I'm not a crazy psycho.

Ryan and I got married just about 8 months ago... and now, it seems like I've jumped into a time machine bringing me to my friend Katie's wedding, which is set for tomorrow evening. What happened to winter?!? Spring?!?

Anyways, point being, I'm extremely excited for one of my best gal's to become a "matron" with me. It really is just an amazing experience. Here's Katie and I dancing together at my wedding just 8 months ago. I hope to get a similar photo of us tomorrow night, attire switched. : )

The "Good Ol' Days"

Good Ol' Days (n): past times remembered with nostalgia (a yearning for the past, often in idealized form).

Yes, we all have our own definition of what the "good ol' days" were, the prior years always seeming better than our reality today. Yet I guarantee that one day we'll look back at this time, this breathing second, as a time when things were "better." Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we always long for how things once were and not how they could be? Nostalgia is a funny thing. I think we get so attached to it because it gives us a small glimpse into what having childhood innocence felt like... peeping into that small window of ourselves with a fresh start, a clean slate. And hey, I'm guilty as charged. I got to thinking of it so much one day that I sat there compiling images of what I remember most of childhood. This is what I found (enjoy you products of the 80s and 90s!):

It's Gonna Be a Great Day!

Last Saturday night's SNL finally had another great digital short. For some reason I always favor the ones when Andy Samberg is singing. Why do we all love him so much? My guess is the schnoz. Bumpy nose people unite!

Here's a few more of my favorites so far...
Ba-da ding-ding-ding-ding whoa!

Ras Trent:



Shy Ronnie (feat. Rhianna):



Space Olympics:

Come to Me

This song, written by Alex Dezen (lead singer of The Damnwells), is ridiculously good and extremely sentimental for me and Ryan... we had our first dance to this for obvious reasons (just listen to it), and so it will always hold a very special place in our hearts. A produced version of the song was put on the newest Damnwells record "One Last Century," but this is where we first heard it. Nothing can beat this intimate video of just Alex singing with his guitar. Enjoy. : )

Buy, Sell, and Live Handmade.

Little bitty Etsy.com is a website that I've been obsessed with for quite some time now. You can buy and sell just about any kind of handmade good, including art, jewelry, stationary, music, furniture.... you name it! It was such a breath of fresh air for me in the midst of our wedding planning. I wish I had known about it from the moment he proposed, for I would have ordered EVERYTHING from here. You know what you're getting is unique and made with care, and best yet, you can work with vendors to personally customize projects for you.

For example, one vendor, Clayin' Around, made a customized cake topper for our wedding cake out of polymer clay of a groom and an eskimo woman... which was an inside joke between Ryan and I (he claims that I look like an eskimo... don't ask!). She sent me multiple photo proofs of the figurine, and once I approved it, I completed the payment and voila! I had our perfect cake topper. It was probably one of our favorite parts of the wedding... and Etsy can take full credit for that. Here's a few more wedding details that were ordered from Etsy:

Our ring bearer carried this little pillow, designed with coordinating patterned fabrics and embellished with ribbons in varying shades of brown. Vendor: bride design

Pear-shaped crystal, ballroom earrings, in smoky silver, with precision facets. The pendants dangle below Swarovski crystal rondelles on sterling silver wire and french hooks. I wore these for the wedding! Vendor: Made by Kalli

Handcrafted flower hair pins using ivory/cream silk hydrangea petals with a freshwater pearl, a white pearl and a Swarovski crystal beaded center. I wore these in my hair. Vendor: kris kreations

Wedding aside, this is my most recent purchase, just for fun! I love the design of the fabric: White with blue flowers silver plated pendant necklace. Made by hand embossing aluminum and then applying fabric to the embossed design. Vendor: Twist 21

As you can see, I LOVE ETSY!

I'm a freakin' addict.

My husband has the most ridiculous ability to get me hooked on his stupid phone games. This is the newest craze. It's called Pixelated.

God save me.

And in case you're curious: The object of the game is to change the color of the squares until the entire screen is a single solid color. This is done by using the colored buttons on the bottom of the screen to change the color of the square in the upper left hand corner to that of those surrounding it. Changing this square to the color of those around it allows it to slowly grow until it fills the entire screen. The ultimate goal is to clear the screen in as few moves as possible. In the normal setting you have 21 moves to clear the screen. You can download it (for free) for your BlackBerry here.

So.. I'm currently at 16 moves. Booyah!!

Bad Girls

-Laurel Thatcher Ulrich

To be frank, I am simply not one of the women that this quote describes. I'm actually, rather unfortunately, a very well-behaved woman. And I hate it. Ryan brought me home this bumper sticker one day thinking that I would love it-- and he was right. I immediately stuck it up on my fridge.

I don't have it up there as an expression of who I am, or as a "girls rock" motif. But I would like to think that it sits there as a reminder to myself of what people (including me) are capable of. I mean, who really thinks that they--themselves, alone, with their own two hands and single mouth--can actually make history? Be written down into the dusty pages of how they changed the course of what their town, county, state, country, or world has come to know as fact? The concept is such a large and intangible one that it overwhelms me to think that real women in our history have made such deep impacts on how our normal worlds appear to us today. And not to discount them or make this a selfish comparison, but it makes me feel so incredibly inadequate.

I do have the cognition to realize that I'm a real woman who will most likely never be quoted across a bumper sticker, nonetheless in the pages of a history book. However, our actions and impressions on others who are deeply rooted in our own little worlds can be our own way of "making history." Changing the lives of those we love simply by living and sharing our lives with them is history in itself. Our own personal history. And I can be happy with that.

I'll Get You, My Pretty!

So we're going to see Wicked this week... "The Untold Story of the Witches of Oz," which I'm STOKED about. The tickets were a gift in my Christmas stocking from my lovely husband... who had the ingenious plan to make the holidays last for six months. I've heard so many good things about this Broadway production, so I can only hope it lives up to my expectations. I'm a huge Wizard of Oz fan, so I can't wait to see a chummy Glinda and Wicked Witch of the West.

But what about the untold story of the witches of North Carolina? I could probably make a cameo in that one.

Chop Chop!

Hair cut! Woohoo! It's amazing how a lighter head can make you feel a hundred times better. It really took some weight off (literally and figuratively).

I Heart Charlottesville.

I did it! Marathon #2 is officially (and successfully) complete. I got my PR at an official time of 3:53:27, which is an 8:55 pace (full results here). I can't believe that I beat my best time at such a hilly (but BEAUTIFUL) course. I was sooo much better prepared this time, mentally and physically. I didn't peak too early, and I tapered down in my training after about 21 miles, both to prevent injury and so not to psych myself out. I already knew that I could do it and it wasn't a matter of finishing, but instead, feeling as good as possible during the entirety of the race. I knew my limits, I knew when fast was "too fast," and I knew that I should enjoy every moment because finishing would make it all worth it.

As you can see, I couldn't do anything but smile when I crossed that finish line. Even though this was my second race, I finally felt like a trained marathon runner. I had trained all by myself for this race, which was a huge feat mentally. It took me a lot of willpower to get out of bed on my Saturday mornings and run for multiple hours with only myself to hold me accountable. Also, after finishing my first marathon back in 2008, I remember saying that I would never do another one... that it was the hardest thing I'd ever done in my life. This experience was the total opposite. When I returned home, I immediately started looking for the next race to sign up for--I felt so gratified by the run, the organizers, and by the town. Charlottesville is truly a little gem: historic, diverse, rich in character, curvy, and truly loved by its inhabitants. I genuinely feel that it inspired me to never quit this sport and instead, to wholeheartedly embrace it. I'll be back next year.

With my husband Ryan at the finish line.

Two days! Dun Dun Dun....

I got my blue (CAROLINA!) shorts ready to go! Only two days left, and I'm starting to get the shaky-leg syndrome. I've fallen in love with these Saucony Run Lux shorts though-- I now have a black, pink, and blue pair of them (see the ridiculously awesome jumping photo to the right). :) Who says you can't run a marathon and look cute while doing it?

Anyways, I'm leaving at lunchtime tomorrow to get up to Virginia, pick up my race packet, and scope out the course. I regrettably looked at the elevation chart for the course yesterday. Let me emphasize: REGRETTABLY. I knew it was going to be a hilly course, but wasn't prepared to see spikes as ragged as icicles. The race admins really emphasize the "four flat miles!" of the course, but four out of twenty-six just doesn't seem like a substantial slice of pie to me. I guess it's time to prep my calves for a workout of their life. I know it's nieve, but I'm really banking on the scenic course distracting me for the first 20 miles... and then I'll just miraculously wake up during the flat part of the course, realizing I only have 6 miles to go. A good plan, no??

Pain is Temporary.

So... I've finally forgotten the last race, and therefore, I've signed up for the next one. I'd been debating for months whether or not to sign up for the Charlottesville Marathon, which is taking place on April 17th, 2010. Luckily, my husband--who can decipher any password of mine--hacked into my registration account and officially signed me up a few weeks ago. No turning back now!

Once again I've dedicated one day of every weekend to a relentless run that will undoubtedly leave me limping for the next three days. But boy o boy, it's a good kind of pain. I've heard the Charlottesville, VA, course is one of the most scenic and beautiful in the country, so therefore, I'm kind of viewing this race as my personal tour of the town by foot. Hey, it's healthy justification, right?

My first and last 26.2-mile race was Raleigh's City of Oaks Marathon. My old blog (that I neglected the majority of the time) includes a blog post from November 2008 after I completed the race. I can honestly say that it was one of my top highlights from the past 5-10 years. It really pushed me to my limits, and enabled me to cross something off my list that I've always aspired to accomplish. And that's not as easy as it sounds. It's difficult when you get into the hub and bub routine, the monotonous schedule of your normal, everyday life. I work all week and live for the weekends. I wish I was the type of person that could throw my hands up and take off for a spontaneous trip, leave my 9-5 schedule behind, and set off for an adventure of a lifetime. But reality doesn't always work that way, and we can't all disconnect and escape from our current lives. So things like running, running looooong distances, aiming to complete a race like this, gives me a taste of that adrenalin and that adventure.

But don't worry, one day you'll see photos of me backpacking through the Alps or lying in a field in the Scottish countryside. One day...

Until then, lets get another notch in my belt for marathon #2. : )