I made her day...

I had 4 goals while running the Boilermaker: 1. Do not die; 2. Run the whole way (no walking!); 3. Don't come in last; 4. Get to the finish line in under 2 hours. I am happy to say that I accomplished my goals. Number 4 is a bit tricky and could be disputed...it took 13 minutes after the clock started ticking for me to get to the "Start" line...once I passed the pads under the start banner, my GPS chip was activated...from there, I finished in under 2 hours...add the 13 minutes and I was slightly over 2...but that's OK, after all I didn't die.

You would think that after all the hard work, all of the training, the long Saturday mornings dedicated to getting ready for this one day, it would be the story of the week...well, it's not. Yes I was flying high, yes I was proud (of both me and Hubby, he finished in 1 1/2 hours...show off!) but the story of the week comes from a little sentence that I heard in the grocery store today...my daughter said, "you made my day". Yep, that one sentence meant more to me than any physical accomplishment. It meant more thank any work related win. It was the biggest pat on my back that I could hope for.

Anyone that has a teenager knows the trials that come from everyday life. A bad hair day can wreak havoc on the entire family. (OK, that's not just teens, I've had my days, Hubby could tell you), but it's undeniable that sometimes it takes the world to make a teen happy. Today, despite a minor embarrassing moment in the antiperspirant isle (I really can't get in to it), I managed to make my daughter's day! She told me so! And the best part about it was I was just being myself; happy, silly and carefree. I sang a little, talked to the other shoppers like I knew them and thoroughly enjoyed spending time with my daughter.

We laughed about how she was at least 6 inches taller than me and decided that either she grew another inch or I was shrinking. (It's probably a combination of both.) We giggled when the celery fell on the ground. I told an older lady that she was pissing me off (under my breath), then when she apologized for being in our way and was really sweet about it, I told her I liked her. Mackenzie got the cake mix, I got the milk. I guessed how much we would spend at the register and was 6 cents under! We both were sweating about not having enough cash to pay for the groceries! I chatted it up with the cashiers! I hope I wasn't too embarrassing...by then, I was at least 1/2 hour in to making my daughter's day so I really didn't care!

I love that as much as I can make my daughter miserable, I can make her laugh. I love that she can tell me how much she loves me and how much I am embarrassing her. I love that she doesn't hate me (and actually appreciates me) for being me. What a bond, what a special connection I have with my girl. I am so happy to be carrying on the tradition my mom passed on to me!

So as I reflect on the past 7 days of my life, besides being able to share my mother's birthday with my mom, dad, sister and her family (and by the way, that day my mom made my day!), the most memorable part of my week was not running 9.3 miles in one of the most popular 15K's in the nation (and not dying), but hearing my daughter say to me, "you made my day"....That made my day.

In 1990 I met one of the most wonderful people that I've come across in my life, not my husband (he came a year later), ...my best friend. We formed a deep connection, a sisterhood that perhaps, and unfortunately, some people never feel. We laughed more than anything when we first met. You know, the kind of laugh that annoys everyone around you, but makes you feel so good. That infectious giggle that you don't want to stop...ever! The kind of laugh that literally makes you pee your pants! (but that only happened once, and I had just had my daughter...I had a weak bladder!)

I was in my 2nd year of community college when we were making plans to get an apartment together. It's probably a blessing that I met my husband, graduated and got married in August of 1991. Who knows how much trouble we would have gotten into if we actually did end up being roommates. Poor Harry, little did he know at the time that he was getting the "2 for 1 special", he married me and got me and my best friend! We were inseparable! Silly and loud, happy and carefree.

Life moved fast. I got a "grown up job" in my field, and within a blink of an eye, I was pregnant with my first born. Harry and I were both working 2 jobs to make ends meet. I remember how pissed off I would be when my best friend called me at 10pm to "go out"...as I'm in my pajamas, feeding my baby. How dare she! I guess I would have been just as mad if she didn't call. Once she got me to meet her out...only her!

Life got a little complicated. She was always there for me...I hope I was there for her. Looking back, I think in our late 20's and early 30's we kind of envied each other. I had the 2 kids and a house, she was living the single life. What's that saying? Something about grass and it being greener on the other side???

In 1996 Harry and I moved to Georgia, a couple of years later my best friend moved to Florida. Years went by when we would see each other maybe once a year...but when we did see each other, it was like we would pick up where we left off...always laughing.

We've watched each other go through a lot over the past 20 years. She was there for my daughter's birth almost 16 years ago, I was there for her mom's funeral just last year. I could fill 15 books with our stories.

I had the honor of sitting next to my best friend at a baseball game tonight, along with my family and some of my other best friends (you can never have too many!), and as always, she made me laugh. Giving and kind, funny and still so carefree. I hope she knows how much joy she brings to people.

Baby Steps

I'm a little frustrated with my Golden Retriever...in order to ensure he comes when I call, I have a nice little treat for him (usually a piece of hamburger, hot dog or left over pork or chicken). He is only a year and a half and when I have him out on our front yard and another dog walks by, I need to be assured that he will come when he is called.

Tonight he definitely came when called, but disturbingly did not bring his tennis ball. I threw the ball with all my might, he ran after it and then 1/2 way back to me he would drop it and just continue running towards me for his reward. No matter how many times I brought him back to the ball I had thrown, shoved it in his mouth (ever so gently) and waltzed him back to my front porch, he still didn't seem to get it. He just wanted that reward.

I can't help but to think (and relate to the fact) that I (we) are just like my dog...forget smelling the roses, forget savoring all that is out there for us to taste, I (we) just want that reward.

This weekend, my extended weekend, it is my mission to absorb all that is out there for me to take in. Every sun ray (please, God), every firework spark, every fat filled burger, all the work my husband will be doing on our kitchen, all my friends and family. I will appreciate every second I have with all of you.

I don't know when we all start to realize that it's not really about the prize, it's the journey that we take to get to the end, win or lose. I think God is on a mission to help me to see that. I guess I have some lessons to teach my Golden...