Marital Honesty

For you married readers out there...

here's the million dollar question...

do you tell your partner everything?

Are you transparent about it all?  How much it costs to get the gray out of your hair.  How many beers you drank at the last sales meeting.  The fact that you can't stand when he/she reaches over to kiss you first thing with well, that breath.

That you have a minor crush on a guy/girl at the gym.

That you secretly steal a smoke on the car ride home from work.

That sometimes, after shopping trips, you stuff the goods inside your bag and head immediately upstairs to put the aforementioned goods under your bed.

That on that one night, during that one time, when you were super tired, you faked it, so you could go back to sleep.

And then there's the deeper stuff....the pieces that you've sworn to take to the grave....that you won't even document.

In a healthy, loving, communicative, transparent marriage....how important, necessary, or helpful is it to be completely honest?

It's a good question.  I'm certain that 99.9% of the time my husband tells me that I look fabulous in everything I put on...even when sometimes, I have no business being caught out in public in such garb.

I also know that there are hot button topics that we don't address like politics because they don't lead to warm fuzzy feelings.

But in general, on any given day, is it critical to tell your partner everything or is it okay not to and where do you draw the line?

Food for thought.

Parts of Me

I promised myself that I would notice 'me' when I was in Chicago.

Not exclusively my running form or how my body felt in motion during the race...

but that I would pay attention to how I felt roaming the city streets, navigating the 'L' stops, engaging in conversation with college friends, bumping into strangers, and in general being out of 'mom mode.'

I've read that at any given time, we compartmentalize pieces of ourselves...mostly out of survival, sometimes for the purposes of organization, and ultimately, because we prioritize the season that we find ourselves in and back burner excess so as not to get confused or off-track.

But those parts of us that are temporarily not engaged, do not go away....and when they are awakened, if only briefly, they remind us that we are complex, alive, and multi-dimensional.

Moments after I finished the Chicago Half Marathon race, I sat down next to a man on the shuttle bus.  We were trekking back to the L Stop that brought us here.

I introduced myself.  Told him where I was from.  And that I had a husband and three kiddos eagerly awaiting my return to congratulate me on the achievement.

He told me that he was a professor at the University of Chicago in literature.  His focus is in Irish literature and he'd just finished a sabbatical in Ireland with a stint in northern Italy.

We chatted about my time studying abroad in Greece and Turkey, the Windy City, running, races, family and how great it is to do something completely outside of your comfort zone.

He mentioned that he wasn't married and had no children.  "Frankly, I wasn't sure how to fit that into my life.  I applaud you."  I laughed and said, "I envy your travels to Italy and around the world."  He promised me that I'd get there one day.

Those parts of us that enjoy meeting strangers, shooting the shit over a bus ride or a beer, stealing moments to engage our brains in the latest political debacle or philosophical debate...they don't go away.  They may be dormant and hibernating.  But they never leave us.

And that to me is extraordinarily refreshing.

Life is a Marathon to be Savored

It's been nine months since I've been dedicated to a regular running regimen.

And in that time, I've taken in countless pieces of advice.

Suggestions on running form, pace, training plans, nutrition, clothing, shoes...you name it...there's gazads of information out there.

But the other day, I saw a quote that stopped me in my tracks.  Simple.  Straight forward.  But also loaded, if you sink into it.

Life is a marathon and YOU are in it.

Many will concede that the running metaphor has many evident and cheese dick parallels to the journey that we're all on...living this unique life that we've been given.

But give it a second and think about it.

This is your life.  It's your race.  And when you take care of yourself physically, mentally and spiritually....you're able to endure.  You're not simply surviving, you're thriving and maybe, conquering some personal best records in your relationships, in your work, and in your space.

There are days, when you're exhausted.  Sick.  Tired.  Hurt.  Someone or something injured you.  You're pissed.  All that work for nothing.  Fuck that relationship.  Damn that job.  Screw that project.

But today, the hour turned, the sun came up, and by the grace of God, you were given the gift of anew.

Will you lace up your shoes, give it a go, make amends, hydrate, refuel, believe in yourself, trust in the future?  Or will you stew bogged down in defeat or simply surrender to the pain?

Because even on the days when we can't imagine getting up and trying again, we're in it.  Life is a marathon and we're here.

And everyone will tell you that to be successful in a race means to start slow, take in everything (the sights, the smells, the people, the experience), to have a plan for how you're going to cope when it gets hard, to create the story that you'll tell yourself (I am strong, powerful, capable) when you want to quit, and to put in the time, so that at the finish line, you fully experienced the journey.

I am grateful everyday for what running has taught me.  It's not easy.  But the lessons are true...they're beautifully hard and hopeful.  Here's to enjoying the marathon.

Here's to Sleep & Indulgent Behavior

Today was the first morning in ages that I woke up and thought, I can't run.  I'm too exhausted.

Lacing up my shoes, it all started playing like a movie in my head.

For probably two weeks leading up to the Chicago Half Marathon, I didn't sleep.  Or if I did, it was fitful and fraught with weirdo nightmares of getting lost.

Compounding my lack of sleep, my whole family, and many families around us are sick with some yuck deal that is either a virus or a severe case of allergies.

Consequently, I've been pounding Emergency drink, Airborne, Zinc, Vitamin C and water.

Then my calendar smacked me in the ass when I realized that I've volunteered for a shit load of roles/events at my kiddos' school and church.

And, another half marathon in 8 weeks.

And, a jewelry business that I'm resurrecting.

And, I'm crazy.  Certifiably so.

So, at the risk of sounding immature...lazy...or sophomoric....here's what I want to do.

I want to run my long run on Saturday morning, drink a ginormous glass of vitamin D chocolate milk, take a steaming hot shower, fall asleep to a great play list, wake up and start drinking.  You name it.  Martinis, Mimosas, Champagne....it doesn't much matter.  I just want to drink.  Then sleep again.  Then sleep some more.  Take some ibuprofen.  Regain consciousness.  Resume the routine.  And be happy.

It's okay if it's only a fantasy.  It's a beautiful one that may someday become actualized.  Until then, here's to sleep and dreams of indulgent behavior.

North Face Endurance Half Marathon-Kansas City

I have this amazing friend.

She's the one who originally inspired and encouraged me last year to run my first half marathon.

This summer, she competed in her first Half Iron Man (which if you're unfamiliar is a 1.2 mile swim followed immediately by a 56 mile bike ride, followed immediately by running a half marathon).  She did it in grueling heat with a smile on her face.

And yesterday, she registered to compete in her first full Iron Man (2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike ride, 26.2 or marathon run) which she'll complete next September.

In preparation, she needs to run a marathon and so together, we're headed to Kansas City in November to do the North Face Endurance Challenge.

North Face offers these races in cities across the country.  They're typically off road with crazy ass elevation and some technical difficulty.

Kansas City is one of the few races that will be on the road.

She'll be running a full marathon and I'll be running a half.

Reviewing the course, it's beyond clear that I'm going to have to start running hills and doing some tempo training work.  I'd like to get a bit faster.  And, I'll have to learn to run in colder temperatures.  The high for KC in November is 52 degrees.

I'm excited.  I'm anxious.  I'm hopeful.  And now, I'm re-focused on a new goal, a new challenge, a new opportunity and a new chance to keep owning 2012...the year of Kelly.

Wish me luck!

Rocking the Chicago Half Marathon with a Grateful Heart

I don't even know where to begin.

Four months ago, immediately after completing my first half marathon, I felt over-the-moon about the accomplishment and anxious wondering what was on the horizon.

I impulsively registered two days later to run the Chicago Half Marathon.  I assumed that one of my runner friends would join me and that we'd have a wild and crazy time taking the windy city on.

One by one, something came up for everyone and I soon discovered that if I really wanted to do this, I'd be going alone.

Scared and deflated, I told my husband that it probably wasn't meant to be and that I should just write off the registration costs.

And then, out of the wood work...one by one...my friends emerged and made my trip a reality.

One friend (and I'm crying at O'Hare airport as I write this) offered up her family member's condo in a fantastic neighborhood.  Knowing that I was petrified to take public transportation, she mapped out my itinerary and gave me step by step directions and emergency contacts of all of her friends in the city.

The condo was steps away from Wrigley Field and both nights, I heard Springsteen singing to a packed stadium and felt like I was at the concert without paying a dime.

College friends that I haven't seen in over a decade, called, wrote, and insisted that we get together.  One by one, they traveled to me, took me to fabulous restaurants, listened to me talk about my family, my running journey, and gave me heart felt encouragement, hugs, laughter and tears as I prepared.

My husband graciously took time off of work and planned fun activities for he and our three kids to do while I was away...and then tucked a note into my shoe letting me know that I was an amazing woman.

My family and very dear friends sent me text messages, letters, emails, cards, and notes all reminding me of why I was going and letting me know that I was already a winner.

And now, I'm moments away from flying home and all I can remember is this:

• Waking up to a 68 degree day
• Running along a breathtaking lake front with sunshine sparkling off the water
• Feeling a body that was strong, steady, and trained
• Having a heart filled with joy while bands played and people cheered
• Eyes that wanted to cry, but an ear-to-ear smile that wouldn't let them
• Feet that never stopped running and never let me down
• A watch that showed me a time I've never seen before...how did I run that fast?
• And a belief that I was meant to be in Chicago on this day doing this by myself

There is no question that I am a changed person.  I am inspired.  I am motivated.  I am passionate.  And I am extraordinarily grateful.  There are no words to express that throughout all of this process, I was never alone.  This journey was a collective effort.  I just got to selfishly wear the medal at the end.

If I thanked God, my family, friends, and Chicago daily...it would not be enough.

Exposing and Embracing the Mess

Here's the state of my house.

From the microwave stand in my kitchen where I cannot find shit...really...I think something died underneath all of those piles and the only thing I'm motivated to do is to drink coffee from the colorful mugs.

To the living room that always seems to have some random group of totes, boxes, laundry piles, library books, pile of shoes, gooey abandoned suckers, and muddy stroller tracks awaiting us.

To the hands that can find all of the chalk, markers, crayons, colored pencils, glue, stickers, books, magazines, jars, and small objects that should not be put in one's mouth.

To the kitchen which on any given day is consumed by dishes in the sink and dishwasher, lids that have been loved with crayons and markers, insane amounts of pharmaceutical paraphernalia like adult and kids ibuprofen, vitamins, supplements, acetaminophen, and baby syringes.  It's the craziest shit pick up pile of them all.

To the toddler's room which by the grace of God has some toys picked up but for the most part is a straight up death trap on any given day of the week.

Let's get real friends.  My life just like yours is messy.  I didn't have the heart to take a picture of the bathroom.  No need to expose the real shit.  It's just good to let it all out there because then, no one has any pretenses and when you come to visit, you'll know what you're in for.

So, please, come and visit, save me from the cleaning that I should be doing.