This post will be one that is a tad bit different than what I have intended to do from my reboot. This one will cover the first four days of a string of seven. It will also intertwine a few other experiences...all of which do not involve me as a runner. Why? Because these experiences still made an impact on me, allowed me to make friends on the trail, and ultimately allowed me to grow just a bit more confident in who I am as not only a runner, but a person.
The first day is always nerve wracking. It doesn't matter if it is the first day of school, work, or (in this case) helping out. My kids and I have volunteered at many races the past three years...and they have been at varying sizes. The most notable for us has been Med City Marathon in Rochester, Minnesota and the Mankato Marathon in Mankato, Minnesota. They are some of the larger races we have helped at, and it has been a blast. Well...except for the Course Marshalling. That one wasn't all that fun...but that was mainly due to four bored kids. However, when one is stationed at roughly mile 23 for a full marathon and just about as far in for a half, it takes a bit for runners to get to you...and there is plenty of time to get bored. LOL!!
I digress. Within helping at many of the marathons my husband has run, we have covered many different aspects of a race. The kids have their favorite, and I have mine. I think one area we all like to work is the finish line...getting to see the runners after they have finished, and to congratulate them on their accomplishment. I personally like to be somewhere in the middle of the course cheering runners on, encouraging them, and maybe cracking a joke to help get their mind off of whatever frustration has set in.
What does that have to do with this post? Good question. Let me explain.
This year my family and I ventured on a race series. It started in Bryan, Ohio and worked its way through the upper Midwest/Heartland area of the country until it ended in Albert Lea, Minnesota. There were amazing views along the way. An old, Dutch style windmill along the Mississippi....a gorgeous trail along one of the rivers in Michigan...a "rails to trails" stretch that boasted "The Dark Side" mountain bike area off of it in Indiana....the list is long. My husband was to run the first four days, and I the last three. Chalk art along the various courses would be done on all 7 days. If nothing else, for the Pattenclan, it promised nothing less than an adventure unlike any we had been on before.
The group we were with runs their races with only one aid station. With out and back loops, it makes it very convenient, and easier to maintain. If the temps get too hot, they open a water station midpoint on the loop. There are friendly smiles that greet you at the Water tent, the Food tent, the Rubber Band table,and the Timing table. So with so few places to be, what did we do to volunteer? Pretty much whatever we were told to do. It varied day to day. The youngest of the crew liked passing out Freezie Pops to those who needed/wanted them, one of the girls helped out at the Water tent all seven days, one helped at the Rubber Band table, and I helped out wherever I was needed/wanted. All of us helped in some way with the Chalk Art....which was meant as a mental distraction and as encouragement along the routes.
So why even make a post about this? Because for four days I was a helper. My feet and legs got ready to have hours of use out of them for three days in a row. I got to know the runners on more than a first name basis before I had the chance to run with them. They quite literally became some of the most amazing running friends I have made. Without the opportunity to help at the beginning of the series, I likely wouldn't have made it as far as I had during my three days of running. I will forever be grateful to Hanne, Clint, George, Cathy, Jesse, Daniel, and any others that I have forgotten for allowing me and the kids the opportunity to help out at those races. Would I do it again if I had the chance? TOTALLY!!
Friday, October 20, 2017
Monday, September 18, 2017
A Race to Remember
CowTown 2017.
Definitely a race to remember.
My first ever point to point half marathon.
My first ever race with a goal to beat the cut off time.
My first ever race WITH a cut off time.
What a race it was.
So now that the dramatic intro has been given, I will break it all down. CowTown was held on February 26, 2017. My husband was running the full marathon, and I was doing the half. The kiddos stayed with my mom, and everyone there had fun. My goal was to merely beat my husband, but also to make it to the last water stop before the 4 hour and 30 minute cut off time. I managed only one of those goals, but let me back up a bit and give a recap of my race, and by way of doing that will reveal which goal I met.
The day started out slightly chilly. Being from Texas, I was most excited about running a race in February in shorts and short sleeves. Why? Because in Minnesota where I currently live, February isn't exactly shorts weather. LOL!! I also was looking forward to the sunrise. It did not disappoint. Being as I was walking the half marathon, and expected a rather slow time, I was put in Corral 8...the last one. My husband somehow scored Corral 3, a mystery we STILL haven't figured out.
By the time I got to the start line, the race had been going for close to 30 minutes. The race itself traveled through several parts of Ft. Worth, including the Historic Stockyards and parts of downtown. The race started well...or at least as well as I could have hoped for with minimal training time. I made it to the first aid station relatively middle of the back of the pack. Unfortunately, I had to use the bathrooms, which shifted me back a bit. For the first three to four miles of the race I played leap frog with Batman. After the water stop at mile 3, I started to realize I was pretty much on a solo adventure. There were still people around me until mile 6, at which point I had to pull off to get a bandaid for a blister.
After mile 6, I ventured into the outskirts of the Stockyards. I could still see people ahead of me, they were moving about 5 minutes in front of me speedwise at this stage. I loved walking through it, and taking in some of the sights on my way through. After leaving the Stockyards, I entered into what could only be described as Old Towne. I had tried to look for a restaurant with my name around mile 7, and missed. Trust me...a place with my name and that sells tamales? I was FOR SURE looking out for it. I found the taco trailer, but not the restaurant. At this stage, I could still see people in front of me, but that wall was sure sneaking in. I briefly thought about sitting on the curb and waiting for the sag wagon. This thought disappeared around mile 8.5 when I met up with Team RWB passing out cookies. Seriously. Those ladies totally lit the fire back under me, and helped me get my head back on my shoulders. They are just a few of those that made the race as amazing as it was.
After leaving the cookie stop, I had the looming bridge at mile 9. It has some serious optical allusion going on, making it appear as this hugely steep hill. In reality, it wasn't that bad. In fact, by the time I got to the top of it, I had no pain anywhere, and felt totally refreshed. That might have been the cookies, or the gu...or Nuun....it could have even been the fact it was the Trinity River bridge, and as one who grew up by the Trinity further south, I thought it really cool. Who knows? By that point, I was in it for fun...and to beat the lights I knew were behind me...somewhere.
Once the bridge was conquered, I entered downtown Ft. Worth. My GPS watch decided to go bonkers, and part of that was due to not turning the auto pause feature off. Why mention this? Because when the race was all said and done, it only had me at 12.76 miles. Slightly short of the 13.1 I actually did. Anyway, I digressed. Downtown was amazing. By this time, I was actually solo mio. No one had passed me since mile 5 or so, so there was that. Those behind me, were still behind me.
While I made my way through Downtown, there were some officers who took the time to cheer me on. By this time, it was me and then open space. My feet were killing me, my mind was giving me alternative facts as to how many miles I actually had left, and I was almost in full pity party mode. Then I came across that one officer. How I wished I could have taken a quick selfie while he was directing traffic. He gave me the heart symbol, cheered me on by name, and gave me a high five. That totally made my day. However, a few blocks later, there were a couple of officers that almost negated that amazing feeling. I had to stand and wait while they were Facebooking. I think that was my only time I have ever gotten an attitude with any course marshal, and I felt bad for it.
After I cleared downtown, my focus became to hit the last aid station at mile 11 before it closed. Remember one of my goals? I was quickly closing in on that time cut, and I had to get there. I saw them standing there at the top of the hill. As quickly as my tired legs and hurting feet could get me there, I did. First words out of my mouth was to let them know others were behind me, and not to tear down. It took them back that I would be so concerned. It was there I found out how many runners were actually behind me, and that those lights I had been running from, were still behind me. It was also there I realized I only had 2 miles left. 2. miles. I was on top of the euphoric high at that point!!!
After the final water station, it was a big downhill adventure. About halfway down, I saw a squad car with lights show up. I wasn't sure if it was backing up, or going slowly on my side. I decided to try and catch it. I got close, and then it took off once it had crossed the bridge at the bottom of the hill. At that point, I saw an elderly lady who was walking at a steep slant. She had turned down medical help, and was finishing the race at all costs (and why not? She only had a mile or so to go at that point). I later found out she had a neurological issue, and the half marathon was on her bucket list of things to accomplish before the disorder eventually would take her ability to walk. I felt bad passing her going up the final hill, but felt better once I realized she did in fact finish.
Once I hit the top of that hill, the end was near. I could hear it. I could feel that vibe of excitement. I was a bit bummed, because I had gotten a text from my husband that he had just made it in a few minutes before. Oh well. My goal to finish strong, and to finish with a PR...whatever that would look like...remained in my focus. As I made the next to last turn on the course, I started getting passed by marathoners and ultra runners. I felt out of place, but due to their focus and energy, I actually picked up some pace. I was actively looking for that 13 mile marker, and was getting discouraged by not finding it. Imagine my surprise, and the laughter, when I found TWO of them!!
Right about the time I found them, I heard my husband cheering me on. It was the last turn. Around the corner I went. I tried to run. Really, I did. I saw the finish line. I saw the clock. The result is one pathetic pic, as I looked like I was about to cry. Not from pain either. Honestly looked like I was ready to cry that I was about to cross the finish line. The truth? I saw the clock, which was set to gun time, saying 5:20:30. I had that quick moment of upset that I missed my PR....by a lot. Then I remembered it was chip time, and I was offset by 30 minutes. Quick math said I PRed...and I was excited!!!
In the end, I PRed by 7 minutes exact. I managed to get the obligatory pic with the PR bell in the bell (I could walk under it!). I got Blue Bell ice cream (some of the best stuff out there). And ultimately, I finished. Yes, my feet hurt (shoes are an important thing...and using some that work on blacktop don't always work well on concrete), and I was exhausted, but I finished. I got a finisher's shirt (I had always gotten participation shirts before). I have so many memories, and lessons learned. Would I do this race again? In a heartbeat!!
Definitely a race to remember.
My first ever point to point half marathon.
My first ever race with a goal to beat the cut off time.
My first ever race WITH a cut off time.
What a race it was.
So now that the dramatic intro has been given, I will break it all down. CowTown was held on February 26, 2017. My husband was running the full marathon, and I was doing the half. The kiddos stayed with my mom, and everyone there had fun. My goal was to merely beat my husband, but also to make it to the last water stop before the 4 hour and 30 minute cut off time. I managed only one of those goals, but let me back up a bit and give a recap of my race, and by way of doing that will reveal which goal I met.
The day started out slightly chilly. Being from Texas, I was most excited about running a race in February in shorts and short sleeves. Why? Because in Minnesota where I currently live, February isn't exactly shorts weather. LOL!! I also was looking forward to the sunrise. It did not disappoint. Being as I was walking the half marathon, and expected a rather slow time, I was put in Corral 8...the last one. My husband somehow scored Corral 3, a mystery we STILL haven't figured out.
By the time I got to the start line, the race had been going for close to 30 minutes. The race itself traveled through several parts of Ft. Worth, including the Historic Stockyards and parts of downtown. The race started well...or at least as well as I could have hoped for with minimal training time. I made it to the first aid station relatively middle of the back of the pack. Unfortunately, I had to use the bathrooms, which shifted me back a bit. For the first three to four miles of the race I played leap frog with Batman. After the water stop at mile 3, I started to realize I was pretty much on a solo adventure. There were still people around me until mile 6, at which point I had to pull off to get a bandaid for a blister.
After mile 6, I ventured into the outskirts of the Stockyards. I could still see people ahead of me, they were moving about 5 minutes in front of me speedwise at this stage. I loved walking through it, and taking in some of the sights on my way through. After leaving the Stockyards, I entered into what could only be described as Old Towne. I had tried to look for a restaurant with my name around mile 7, and missed. Trust me...a place with my name and that sells tamales? I was FOR SURE looking out for it. I found the taco trailer, but not the restaurant. At this stage, I could still see people in front of me, but that wall was sure sneaking in. I briefly thought about sitting on the curb and waiting for the sag wagon. This thought disappeared around mile 8.5 when I met up with Team RWB passing out cookies. Seriously. Those ladies totally lit the fire back under me, and helped me get my head back on my shoulders. They are just a few of those that made the race as amazing as it was.
After leaving the cookie stop, I had the looming bridge at mile 9. It has some serious optical allusion going on, making it appear as this hugely steep hill. In reality, it wasn't that bad. In fact, by the time I got to the top of it, I had no pain anywhere, and felt totally refreshed. That might have been the cookies, or the gu...or Nuun....it could have even been the fact it was the Trinity River bridge, and as one who grew up by the Trinity further south, I thought it really cool. Who knows? By that point, I was in it for fun...and to beat the lights I knew were behind me...somewhere.
Once the bridge was conquered, I entered downtown Ft. Worth. My GPS watch decided to go bonkers, and part of that was due to not turning the auto pause feature off. Why mention this? Because when the race was all said and done, it only had me at 12.76 miles. Slightly short of the 13.1 I actually did. Anyway, I digressed. Downtown was amazing. By this time, I was actually solo mio. No one had passed me since mile 5 or so, so there was that. Those behind me, were still behind me.
While I made my way through Downtown, there were some officers who took the time to cheer me on. By this time, it was me and then open space. My feet were killing me, my mind was giving me alternative facts as to how many miles I actually had left, and I was almost in full pity party mode. Then I came across that one officer. How I wished I could have taken a quick selfie while he was directing traffic. He gave me the heart symbol, cheered me on by name, and gave me a high five. That totally made my day. However, a few blocks later, there were a couple of officers that almost negated that amazing feeling. I had to stand and wait while they were Facebooking. I think that was my only time I have ever gotten an attitude with any course marshal, and I felt bad for it.
After I cleared downtown, my focus became to hit the last aid station at mile 11 before it closed. Remember one of my goals? I was quickly closing in on that time cut, and I had to get there. I saw them standing there at the top of the hill. As quickly as my tired legs and hurting feet could get me there, I did. First words out of my mouth was to let them know others were behind me, and not to tear down. It took them back that I would be so concerned. It was there I found out how many runners were actually behind me, and that those lights I had been running from, were still behind me. It was also there I realized I only had 2 miles left. 2. miles. I was on top of the euphoric high at that point!!!
After the final water station, it was a big downhill adventure. About halfway down, I saw a squad car with lights show up. I wasn't sure if it was backing up, or going slowly on my side. I decided to try and catch it. I got close, and then it took off once it had crossed the bridge at the bottom of the hill. At that point, I saw an elderly lady who was walking at a steep slant. She had turned down medical help, and was finishing the race at all costs (and why not? She only had a mile or so to go at that point). I later found out she had a neurological issue, and the half marathon was on her bucket list of things to accomplish before the disorder eventually would take her ability to walk. I felt bad passing her going up the final hill, but felt better once I realized she did in fact finish.
Once I hit the top of that hill, the end was near. I could hear it. I could feel that vibe of excitement. I was a bit bummed, because I had gotten a text from my husband that he had just made it in a few minutes before. Oh well. My goal to finish strong, and to finish with a PR...whatever that would look like...remained in my focus. As I made the next to last turn on the course, I started getting passed by marathoners and ultra runners. I felt out of place, but due to their focus and energy, I actually picked up some pace. I was actively looking for that 13 mile marker, and was getting discouraged by not finding it. Imagine my surprise, and the laughter, when I found TWO of them!!
Right about the time I found them, I heard my husband cheering me on. It was the last turn. Around the corner I went. I tried to run. Really, I did. I saw the finish line. I saw the clock. The result is one pathetic pic, as I looked like I was about to cry. Not from pain either. Honestly looked like I was ready to cry that I was about to cross the finish line. The truth? I saw the clock, which was set to gun time, saying 5:20:30. I had that quick moment of upset that I missed my PR....by a lot. Then I remembered it was chip time, and I was offset by 30 minutes. Quick math said I PRed...and I was excited!!!
In the end, I PRed by 7 minutes exact. I managed to get the obligatory pic with the PR bell in the bell (I could walk under it!). I got Blue Bell ice cream (some of the best stuff out there). And ultimately, I finished. Yes, my feet hurt (shoes are an important thing...and using some that work on blacktop don't always work well on concrete), and I was exhausted, but I finished. I got a finisher's shirt (I had always gotten participation shirts before). I have so many memories, and lessons learned. Would I do this race again? In a heartbeat!!
Tuesday, September 5, 2017
A New Beginning....Again
So. Here I am. Again.
Why the delay? Frankly, I am not sure. Life has gotten incredibly busy, and almost insanely so. I have so much I want to write/blog about, yet so little time to do so. Some days it comes down to sheer ability to remember...something I need to work on.
All that said, I have been thinking about the direction I want to take this blog. I have henpecked at this over the years, and it seems a bit....aimless. Don't believe me? Check out the archives. 3 posts between 2014 and today. 3. Two of them are while I was laid up after having ankle surgery. All 3 posts are unique in content, and none of them very cohesive in their content. My blog has officially become just as random as the title. For me, this is scary, as anything in written form should have some semblance of order. Hopefully this post will be the first of many that will change that.
This leads to the next logical question....where do I see this blog going in the next days/weeks/months/years ahead? A very good question indeed. My hope is to start by recapping my recent (ok...so not so very recent) race experiences. Since February of this year, I have completed 3 out of 4 half marathons that I had set out to do. The incomplete race? 4 miles stand between me and it...and I will go over that one in a later post. I have also had the privilege of volunteering at a Ragnar relay. This experience will be documented as well. Why? Because it is an insane race, and it was a blast to be a part of it! In short, I see this blog becoming what it should have been when I started it....about running. My own tales, the tales of those of a volunteer, and perhaps tales of one who chases another while that person is running.
While this is my first post of many to come, have no fear. This is not a "head's up" on a change, only to end until the next time. My hope is to be a bit more regular with updating the blog...maybe figuring out how to change the backdrop (new change should equal a new background, right?)...and passing on the tales of a runner randomly running for Christ.
Why the delay? Frankly, I am not sure. Life has gotten incredibly busy, and almost insanely so. I have so much I want to write/blog about, yet so little time to do so. Some days it comes down to sheer ability to remember...something I need to work on.
All that said, I have been thinking about the direction I want to take this blog. I have henpecked at this over the years, and it seems a bit....aimless. Don't believe me? Check out the archives. 3 posts between 2014 and today. 3. Two of them are while I was laid up after having ankle surgery. All 3 posts are unique in content, and none of them very cohesive in their content. My blog has officially become just as random as the title. For me, this is scary, as anything in written form should have some semblance of order. Hopefully this post will be the first of many that will change that.
This leads to the next logical question....where do I see this blog going in the next days/weeks/months/years ahead? A very good question indeed. My hope is to start by recapping my recent (ok...so not so very recent) race experiences. Since February of this year, I have completed 3 out of 4 half marathons that I had set out to do. The incomplete race? 4 miles stand between me and it...and I will go over that one in a later post. I have also had the privilege of volunteering at a Ragnar relay. This experience will be documented as well. Why? Because it is an insane race, and it was a blast to be a part of it! In short, I see this blog becoming what it should have been when I started it....about running. My own tales, the tales of those of a volunteer, and perhaps tales of one who chases another while that person is running.
While this is my first post of many to come, have no fear. This is not a "head's up" on a change, only to end until the next time. My hope is to be a bit more regular with updating the blog...maybe figuring out how to change the backdrop (new change should equal a new background, right?)...and passing on the tales of a runner randomly running for Christ.
Monday, January 23, 2017
A Quandry of Sorts
I recently came across an article found on Facebook making the command to stop using homemade laundry detergent. I have to admit, having made my own laundry detergent consistently for well over two years, and off and on prior to that, I had my defenses up. My curiosity was also piqued. Why should I? Is there a new, better, cheaper way to do my laundry? Has there been research to show homemade laundry detergent is detrimental to my clothes, or worse yet, my health? What gives?
So with trepidation, and an open mind, I hesitantly clicked the link to the article (http://butterbeliever.com/homemade-laundry-detergent-soap-diy/). I have to admit, after reading it, I walked away joyously acknowledging I was write...there was an agenda. However, it was also compelling. I come from the crosshairs of two unique generations. One that forges ahead after research, trial, and error....the other who comes up with great ideas and then evaluates damage done after the dust settles.
As I mentioned earlier, I read this with an open mind, but also with an eye for the agenda. The author presents some compelling evidence, and some answers to questions I had been starting to have in regards to my own laundry of late. For me, it seemed as if some sweat stains just weren't coming out, and clothes that had held up to daily life before just wasn't making it very long. I wrote this off to more use than normal, and cheaper quality materials. Then I started thinking....and researching....and researching more. What I found amazed me. Apparently, there was some legitimacy to what the author posted, and others are out there who had similar experiences.
Let me stop here here and say, I am FAR from diapering my kiddos, and at no point did I ever cloth diaper. I DO however, have two boys who seem to forget how to use toilet paper correctly. I digress.
So so upon further research, I found a "stripping" or deep cleaning solution that I could easily do myself. I mean, I have tons of supplies from my homemaking, so it really is no expense to try it at least. So...why not try?
As I have a bigger family, I decided with expanding how much water I used. This means I also upped how much borax and washing soda I used as well. The result? A full, 40 gallon top load washer with one Tide Pod, and 1/2 cup each of borax and washing soda. I was fearful that the dark colors I started with would bleed one into the other with the hot water....thankfully, this wasn't the case. The smell the author talks about? Yeah. SO. THERE! I was mortified!! I found agitating the washer every 15-30 minutes for the first couple of hours helped greatly. My colors were becoming bright again, rather than the dingy they had been. Granted, this is one load of MANY that will go this route.
Am an I done with homemade laundry detergent? I'm not sure. I'm definitely not done with homemade fabric softener at this point. Am I going to tell others to stop using theirs? Nope. But I am letting others know there IS a way to getting clothes back to normal again.
Sunday, November 23, 2014
Why the Senselessness?
I am a member of a running group online. To say that, it feels odd. We are much more than JUST a running group...we are a family. A fun, pathetic family. Everyone is someone's brother, sister, child, mom, and/or dad. We all have a role...a place to fill. I have only been part of this group since the end of August, but I have found a place where I can honestly belong. To fit in...to be accepted as the pathetic runner I am. I have found some great friends. I have had some great encouragement, and have become quite the encourager in the process.
On Tuesday, November 18, 2014, something terrible happened. A person was killed. Not just any person...someone I had interacted with...someone that many in the group had interacted with...and someone that a few had gotten somewhat close to. Tiffany was not just another name on the list of those killed by Domestic Violence...she was a face too. Her death has not only rocked my world, it has hit the entire group HARD. There is a void in the group, one that I don't think many want filled.
Tiffany leaves behind 4 children and a mother. To some, the inclusion of a mother might be trivial. Not this time, as Tiffany's killer also took her step father. This act of senseless violence was done in front of her kids. Both of them. I can not even begin to imagine what went through their minds...what continues to go through their minds to this day. Tiffany's killer has been arrested and arraigned, a feat that was accomplished after he had taken an unrelated person hostage for seven hours. Her killer was her estranged husband.
Once the initial shock wore off, many took to organizing various fundraisers. Close friends started gofundme accounts. A memorial fund was set up at a local bank. Runners opened various gofundme accounts as well as booster accounts. Various symbols were made, some in memorial, others to be put on a shirt, and still others will be put to use on medals. These all being done by members in my group...the group that is more than a tight knit community, it is a family. The neat thing? M y group isn't the only one...there are others who have been touched by this as well, and willing to help.
Unfortunately, as I typed this, I was notified of yet another senseless act. Again, on a runner, and again by an estranged spouse. My hope and prayer is that the running community will be as giving toward her family as it was towards Tiffany's. I have no reason to believe otherwise.
The color scheme I type in is in honor to Tiffany, who liked orange, and to promote the color purple which is Domestic Violence awareness. So often we see the news reports of deaths like these and write them off as "too bad" or "that is so sad". Because of Tiffany, I don't want that to happen anymore. I don't stand alone in this thought either. There is an entire group that stands with me.
Here is a helpful link if you find yourself in any kind of abusive situation. There ARE people out there who can help...even if all you need is someone to just...listen. Know you are not alone...others have successfully come out of situations like yours...safely. It is a safe site, that will not store information.
National Domestic Violence Hotline
On Tuesday, November 18, 2014, something terrible happened. A person was killed. Not just any person...someone I had interacted with...someone that many in the group had interacted with...and someone that a few had gotten somewhat close to. Tiffany was not just another name on the list of those killed by Domestic Violence...she was a face too. Her death has not only rocked my world, it has hit the entire group HARD. There is a void in the group, one that I don't think many want filled.
Tiffany leaves behind 4 children and a mother. To some, the inclusion of a mother might be trivial. Not this time, as Tiffany's killer also took her step father. This act of senseless violence was done in front of her kids. Both of them. I can not even begin to imagine what went through their minds...what continues to go through their minds to this day. Tiffany's killer has been arrested and arraigned, a feat that was accomplished after he had taken an unrelated person hostage for seven hours. Her killer was her estranged husband.
Once the initial shock wore off, many took to organizing various fundraisers. Close friends started gofundme accounts. A memorial fund was set up at a local bank. Runners opened various gofundme accounts as well as booster accounts. Various symbols were made, some in memorial, others to be put on a shirt, and still others will be put to use on medals. These all being done by members in my group...the group that is more than a tight knit community, it is a family. The neat thing? M y group isn't the only one...there are others who have been touched by this as well, and willing to help.
Unfortunately, as I typed this, I was notified of yet another senseless act. Again, on a runner, and again by an estranged spouse. My hope and prayer is that the running community will be as giving toward her family as it was towards Tiffany's. I have no reason to believe otherwise.
The color scheme I type in is in honor to Tiffany, who liked orange, and to promote the color purple which is Domestic Violence awareness. So often we see the news reports of deaths like these and write them off as "too bad" or "that is so sad". Because of Tiffany, I don't want that to happen anymore. I don't stand alone in this thought either. There is an entire group that stands with me.
Here is a helpful link if you find yourself in any kind of abusive situation. There ARE people out there who can help...even if all you need is someone to just...listen. Know you are not alone...others have successfully come out of situations like yours...safely. It is a safe site, that will not store information.
National Domestic Violence Hotline
Monday, June 2, 2014
This isn't my first blog, nor will it likely be the last. My first blog (I actually had two at the time) was approximately 8 years ago. One dealt with family life...an outlet before Facebook took off...for those who lived in other states to keep up with our lives. The second blog was a place for me to just ruminate about whatever came to mind...quite literally, a random thought spot. Blogger (used to be called blogspot) has this wonderful memory...much better than mine! It remembered my old blog name. I, however, can't seem to remember what email address I had it attached to...much less any password!
So here I sit...at the keyboard...going back to the firsts. This is my first attempt at restarting a blog. My hope and desire? That this is a place I can come to with random thoughts, on random topics, and you (the reader) can enjoy and be enlightened. Not all will be serious blogs, nor will all be humorous...but I hope to have a little bit of both in each entry. Since this a first (again), I ask for your patience as I meander through all of the new things that have shown up since my last venture. Every person has a learning curve...hopefully mine isn't long and drawn out .
With all that said, thanks for stopping by to read my blog. As time allows...and thoughts pass by my mind (and hopefully stick)...I will be adding to the blog. As a mom of four who home schools, my time isn't very often mine, and what time I DO have is limited. That fact alone will make for some VERY interesting posts in the future I am sure. Feel free to add any comments...I do look forward to hearing from others!
Until the next random thought comes, I will be
RandomlyRunningForChrist
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