Nostalgia

It's homecoming week at EIU, and for the first time in at least 10 years, I'm going. The last time I was in Charleston for Homecoming, I wasn't yet married, but Chris accompanied me. Things are different now. And yet, in so many ways, I am more like the person I was when I was a student.

How refreshing is it to realize that who we essentially are cannot be altered? It may go on hiatus for awhile, but we always return to our core values. The last five years have taught me that the things I value are friendship, health, knowledge and fun. Not so different from Maggie circa 1997 ... except maybe the health thing. Maggie back then went to class, studied hard, worked hard, played hard. She made memories so vivid, it seems like only yesterday we were crawling through a grate in the floor of the gym hallway, or driving home from the St. Louis arch in the wee hours of the morning.

Maggie today works hard, plays hard, and yes, she's still making memories. Sometimes, with the same people she made them with back in '97.

I will spend a good portion of this weekend with Patty and Brian Poulter, two of the greatest professors at EIU. I will see my ish-bro Chunk and his fiance Erin. I will eat chili with the Journalism department, I will watch the homecoming parade, and I will smile, laugh and remember. And make more memories while I'm at it.

10 on Tuesday

Haven't done one of these in awhile! Let's see if I still "got it" ...

1. I love live music. Lucky for me, this weekend brings not one, but two opportunities to enjoy some. On Friday night, my sister Jenn is taking me to see Mary Chapin Carpenter at the Paramount in Aurora. I love her music. (Mary’s, not Jenn’s, although she’s pretty talented, too.) Jenn and I have seen Mary before, and she’s awesome … but it’s been years, and we no longer have the matching cow vests to wear to the show. My friend Karen had an extra ticket to see Matt Nathanson at the Riv on Saturday, and she offered it to me. Hello? Yes please! I love him, and I’ve never seen him live. So we’re planning to spend the evening in the city, with dinner at a wine bar and dessert at a bakery and lots of time to visit. Yep. Perfect.


2. But what am I really looking forward to? Sunday. I have nothing on the schedule on Sunday. I will not schedule anything on Sunday. I will not even walk outside my apartment on Sunday, unless it’s to walk to the Dumpster to throw out garbage. Other than that, Sunday will be spent barefoot and curled up in my little home. I haven’t had a day like that in a really long time. Based on my psyche lately, I need it.


3. I ran six miles on Saturday. That’s my longest run to date. I ran it with my friend Di, in a Naperville forest preserve. It was perfectly lovely; I was a little blissed out, to tell you the truth – doing something I’ve never done before with a dear friend at my side? Yes, please. Working toward the 15K Hot Chocolate race on November 5. Nine miles? Yikes. I can to this. But I may limp afterward.


4. Speaking of, I am in desperate need of a massage … which means that, while I’m far too busy for my own good, I need to get up to Lake Geneva to see my friend Jeremiah, the massage therapist. We barter – he massages, I buy him breakfast. It’s a good trade, but I need to find the time.


5. Last Sunday I did something I haven’t done since about 1998 – sang with my family in church. It was meaningful for lots of reasons, not the least of which being that it has been such a long time since I shared in music with both Jesus and my family at the same time. My dad is still one of the greatest worship leaders ever; the man has the greatest soul, and it translates into meaningful worship for everyone, I think. What a great day.


6. I desperately need to clean my closets. I’m surprised I can actually pull together a matching outfit these days. I wish I were kidding.


7. There are lots of fun opportunities coming up. Like what, you ask? Well, next weekend I will be travelling to Charleston to visit my friends Patty and Brian, and go to my college homecoming. I haven’t been to homecoming in years, and let’s face it – I love and miss my college town. Very excited to get back there, see my friends, eat some strawberry bread and enjoy the atmosphere. And chili.


8. Tucson calls! It’s been too long since I’ve wedged my ass into an airplane seat and travelled to Tucson to see my Southwest peeps. I’m fortunate to have people in lots of places that I can visit. Tucson offers the perfect quick weekend, because Mike & Rae live right by the airport, so it’s an easy trip for just a few days. I will get my training runs in, relax, and eat delicious food. And probably stay up way too late talking, because that’s what we do.


9. Okay, so not only did I run six miles on Saturday, but I ran five last night. Five of the most difficult, horrific miles ever. On a god-forsaken dreadmill at the gym, prior to Salsa/Funk class (which left me really feeling like dancing. NOT.) I felt like I was clawing at each fraction of a mile, trying to get to five. At about 1.5, I moved treadmills. At 3.3, I had to poop. Seriously. But I did it; I made it to five miles. Begrudgingly. Painfully. I made it.


10. I deal with change pretty well. I do not deal well with it when tons of things change, all at the same time. Please take note, and knock that shit off.

Autumn

Fall is in full swing here in the Midwest. The trees are beginning to turn, showing their gorgeous color, and the sun has been shining for the better part of a week. The air is crisp - it's the perfect weather for sleeping - and it's hard to believe there was ever a time that I hated this season.

My mother was not a fan of autumn. Sure, she appreciated the colors, but she told me on more than one occasion that fall, to her, signaled an ending. The earth was going to sleep and the beauty and life of spring and summer were, in a way, dying off for a time.

I think I adopted that feeling, which only got worse when I married a fella who hated winter so much it ruined his autumn, too. I spent years dreading this time of year, but as of last year I declared "no more". There is too much to enjoy.

Case in point, this photograph, which I took on the Fall Color 5K at Morton Arboretum on Sunday, October 2. The orange and gold are just starting to peek out; it's beautiful.

Life is far too short to waste it hating the environment you're in. And frankly, hating it is a choice. You can just as easily embrace it! And when you start doing that, you begin to find all sorts of things that make the season quite lovely ... even mundane tasks take on a bit of beauty.

Take, for example, my drive to work. It could be painful. It happens way too early - 7 a.m. on most days - and I'm rarely ready for it. But I always have a hot cup of coffee. I usually have a warm breakfast sandwich. And I always drive past the forest preserve. Today it was particularly beautiful. The elk were out in the pasture (yes, an elk pasture just happens to be on my route) and the leaves were crimson and eggplant and mustard and brick red and seriously, how can you not love that? Against a cloudless cerulean sky, it was immeasurably beautiful.

And I thought to myself, "Self, this may well be a perfect day." For you, too, I hope. Enjoy it.

Sniffle

I have a cold.

It's true; I've succumbed to sickness. My throat is sore and my chest is congesty and ... dammit, I have a cold.

I am the world's worst patient. So much so that I'm getting on my own nerves. I am needy and whiney (two of the lesser-known dwarves) and I sniffle a lot. I'm gross.

And all that is to say just this: Sometimes, you get sick. Granted, it's been awhile for me, but there are times when you have to admit that the bug has caught you and lay low for awhile. Do that early on, and chances are (please cross your fingers) it will not hold on for too long. Refuse to take care of yourself and you give the virus something to hold on to. Not gonna do that.

So, much as I want to be at the gym tonight, chances are I'll head home and into jammies. Much as I want to lift weights and dance, there is probably an 80 percent chance that I'll recline on the sofa instead. I hate that, but I also know the quickest route back to my routine is to give my body time to fight off the sickeness. Which is not fun, but it has to be done. (Hey, I made a rhyme.)

There you have it: my silent plea to the universe to let me get better so I can be at my best. I'll slow down for a few days. But after that, all bets are off.

Fall

The weather has been awesome lately. Leaves are just beginning to turn, the down comforter is back on the bed (perfect for sleeping with the windows open) and it's time to face facts: Autumn is here.

That's not a bad thing. Although in my past life, I hated the passing of summer, over the last few years I have grown to enjoy it. Sure, it means that snow isn't far behind, but I'm okay with it. And in the meantime, I'm going to enjoy the beauty that is here, now.

This year in particular, however, fall seems to be bringing on a myriad of other changes. I'm learning to cope with my favorite instructor leaving the Schaumburg location of my gym, but that's a rough one. She will be back about once a month to teach Salsa/Funk, but my regular check-ins with Donna Thomas are drawing to a close. It feels like a break-up to me, the way it affects my soul. I know it sounds super cheesy, but that's where I'm at. I'm so happy for her, because she is happy; the change will be good for her, for her family and for her life. But for me? It's tough to grasp.

Why? Well, I'll tell ya.

Donna Thomas is a rare broad. She's tough, generous and amazing. I've only trained with her once, but I will never forget it. She was so kind as to give me a session to help me work on hip/leg strength and balance, to help me rehab the injury. It was the toughest hour of my life! She is groovy. The woman can dance! She's private but passionate, feminine but strong. And she believes in me, and my ability to reach my goals.

Losing someone like that - someone who has had an integral part in my physical transformation so far - is going to be rough.

Yet, it's an opportunity. This is a time to grow, to let the ebb and flow of life carry me to something new. To learn, to achieve ... and to carry what Donna has taught me out into the world. To be generous, kind, passionate and strong.

There are some at the gym who are not taking the change well. They are vocally making this all about them. This makes me angry. While I am personally sad, I have to honor my friend by sharing in her excitement. This is not a tragedy; this is just a change. It's not the first, and it won't be the last.

So we transition. From summer to fall. From Donna to John (and anyone else who cares to teach and coach us along). We ebb. We flow.

We dance.

45 and 10

It's September. My birthday month has officially begun. (Yes, I claim the entire month.) But as of yesterday, I was not much in the birthday mood.

I was a little off, for no real reason except things didn't seem like they were coming together. Plans got altered or cancelled altogether, and I was just not feelin' the love. But then, my friend Patty posted a note to my Facebook, just to tell me she thinks I'm awesome. My sister Jenn called, inviting me to the water park. And shortly after that, Mike Rice called, just to check in. See, it's like people just know. At that moment when the tears just seem like more than I can handle, people reach out. They remind me that not only will it all be okay ... it already is, if I'm ready to let it be.

I should be whole all the time by now, I know this. But sometimes, it's hard. Not gonna lie to ya; it's still difficult to remember that, 10 years ago right now, I was in Disney World, preparing for my wedding. A wedding that resulted in a marriage that was over before our fifth anniversary. I offer this up as yet another cautionary tale: Do not ever get married on your birthday, okay?

Sometimes it still hurts. Lately it's more a question of "What the hell was he thinking?" thank "Why wasn't I worthy?" See, I know that I was. I am even moreso now. It's possible that I was simply too awesome to be married to That Guy, and he knew it. So he left me for someone more befitting himself.

And all that is to say, today is a better day. Today I got up and went to the gym, I ran two miles and I lifted some weights, I took a long shower and then I treated myself to a little breakfast. Then, I drove to a little running store and picked up race packets for Monday's 5K. Yes, I will mark my 10-year wedding anniversary by doing something I never thought I could do. I will celebrate my 45th birthday by acknowledging that who I am today is so far removed from who I was 10 years ago, I'm not sure I would recognize her if I passed her on the street.

So yes, today is a better day. Tomorrow will be, too. And Monday? Yeah. Monday's gonna rock.

Calling in sick to life

Sometimes, it just has to happen. You burn the candle at both ends long enough, and your body just says, hold on there, chief ... not one more step until you get yourself a little rest.

That's what happened this weekend. And I am so glad it did!

Saturday morning dawned real friggin' early. Friday night, sleep was elusive. Come to think of it, the night before every race is a tough one for sleeping. Not sure why; I know I have 5Ks in the bag now. (By that I do not mean to imply that they are easy; they are not. They are hard. They piss me off. But I know I can finish them.) But still, toss/turn/repeat was pretty much my mantra of the night.

But up and out the door I was on Saturday morning, ready to hit Hoffman Estates and run the Root Awakening. And run it I did, at my best pace yet; I finished 13.1 miles in 44:30ish. To most runners, that's nothing; that's walking. To me, it's everything. It's the first race I have ever finished in less than 45 minutes. I'm damn proud.

Saturday afternoon I was supposed to go to Wisconsin, but that didn't pan out. Misunderstandings and such meant I got an afternoon to relax, which felt like such a good idea. Then, Sunday morning rolled around, and I tried to roll with it ... but my sciatic nerve had other plans. Tingly pain, down my right leg ... so uncomfortable.

So I cancelled my plans and spent the day stretching, applying heat and relaxing. I simply stopped, for an entire day. And as of this morning, I feel 99 percent better. Is it possible that I really just needed a break? Is it possible to be healed in a day? Well, if how I felt at 5:30 a.m. this morning, when the alarm went off and I got up and went for a run is any indication, yes, it is.

For the last few weeks I've been wishing I could take a day off, call the office and just not show up. It never occurred to me that I could take back my weekend and just veg. As much as I missed seeing Amber, and going out on David's boat, I was exactly where I was meant to be.

Sometimes, being still is pure bliss.

I have not been ignoring you

It has been a busy summer! And yet here we are at four months 'til Christmas. (Yes, I know, I'm weird.) Lots going on, lots of fun to be had, and we're gonna keep it going for awhile.

Last weekend was comfortably balanced. I spent a little time alone, a little time with my dad and bro, a little time with friends, and an entire day at the pool with my sister. Near perfect, for sure. While I would give just about anything to have an entire day to myself with nothing to do but putter around Casa Maggie, I'm not complaining. It has been wonderful and, dare I say, fulfilling to have a summer like this one.

I've been consistent with running over the last few weeks, too, which is leaving me feeling somewhat ready to start preparing for the half marathon in February, and also a little nervous about the 15K in November. My mantra? "I just want to finish."

I have a training plan. I will get there. Interestingly enough, the exciting new development is that I have an airline ticket. First, my sister Kathie booked our rooms. Then, I registered for the race. Yesterday, my sister Jenn booked our flights. Ladies and gentlemen, I'M GOIN' TO DISNEY WORLD and I'm gonna run 13.1 miles while I'm there.

I can't wait, and yet I'm glad I have to wait. Lots of training to do in the coming months, and I'm concentrating on proper running form so I don't get injured. Eyes on the prize, folks.

And naturally there are lots of fun things coming up in the next few weeks, too. This weekend I'm heading up to Lake Geneva after running a 5K. There is boat time on the schedule; woo-hoo! Next weekend is, of course, BirthdayFest, which includes another 5K and probably a meal with the family, plus time with Linda's visiting family as well. Hopefully some much needed rest will happen then, too.

At any rate, life has been a bit of a whirlwind of late. I'm looking forward to what lies ahead ... but I really want a nap.

Collision

Welcome to August 7, the end of what I have come to think of as the week in which the world I am confident and the world in which I am not collide. (A concept which, I must admit, I have stolen from the character Dana Whitaker from Sports Night. She's not using it anymore, so I borrow.)

July 31 was Muddy Buddy, my original athletic foray - the world in which I am not confident. August 6 brought the Summer Showcase with Liberty Town Productions, an annual revue which I've been fortunate to perform in now for two years running - the world in which I am confident.

Now that the second year of all that is in the books, I find myself strangely at peace. Each time I cross the finish line, each time I take a bow, those worlds collide a little bit. Being able to perform has made me a better runner, because I know how to fake it to make it. Being able to run a race has made me a better performer, because I have proven to myself that I am far more capable than I ever thought.

And the two pursuits together have left me so much more well-rounded. My world is bigger, because it isn't just about fitness or theater; like parents speak of their children, I love them both equally. What they've done for me as a person is immeasurable. But I must admit, my favorite part of either is finishing strong.

Opportunity and the way things sorta fall together

So, I have this bucket of time off to use by the end of the year. I'm taking the first week of December to go to Disney World with Dad. Then, friends called to ask if I can go to Six Flags next week Tuesday. Sure; I'll take a day off.

THEN, the opportunity to spend next Thursday on Lake Geneva with friends from out of town presented itself to me. Well, okay, I can do that; I'll take the day off. Yes, I'll be working every other day next week. Kind of a nifty schedule; a whole week where I don't work two days in a row? Sign me up.

THEN tonight after yoga, I was saying good night to the instructor, and she asked if she could give me her card. Sure, I said; I like her. She's awesome. THEN she tells me she's going to be teaching yoga in the mountains of Colorado in September ... would I like to go along?

Sweet Jesus, yes. But I'm also poor, so I'll need to decline. Granted, this is the sort of vacation I dream of. I've never been to Colorado, and I could go there and just be active, have this amazing opportunity to go outside myself and drink in a part of the country I've never seen. But no. Not this time.

THEN, she says, interestingly enough, I can do vacation for trade. Meaning, if I'm willing to do dishes and laundry, I can go. For free. All expenses paid.

So, we're talking. I need to fully understand what will be expected of me, and I need to be sure both sides will benefit from the arrangement. But from where I sit, I may be visiting Colorado this September, and I couldn't possibly be more excited about it.

Sometimes, things just fall into place. It's been a summer like that. I'm getting good at letting it flow.

So far this summer ...

Okay, so today is the first day of August. We're officially in the "dog days" ... meaning, it's going to get hotter (not sure how, seeing as we've already hit the heat index of 110 for a few days running) and the season isn't ready to release its grip on us yet.

But some will soon begin to bemoan (see that alliteration there?) the ending of summer, what with kids returning to school and all. I say, no way; summer isn't over until September 21, and between now and then, there's lots of time to do what we love, whether it's porch sittin', al fresco dining, playing on the swings or rolling down a hill. No need to panic; you can still check a lot off your summer "to-do" list.

I'm a little proud to say that I've already checked a lot of things off of mine - some of which weren't even on the original list, but they would've been if I'd thought of it! Two months into the season, I have ...

• Completed not one but two races that involved obstacles and mud.


• Spent a day on a boat.


• Spent several days at the pool. Any pool. Lovely.


• Eaten sweet corn. And ribs.


• Gone for a bike ride. Several bike rides. I love having a bike.


• Spent an evening with my friends Dale and Candy, around a bonfire. (Same night I ate the corn and ribs. YUM.)


• Reclined on the grass at the Grand Geneva resort and watched fireworks. Heaven!


• Seen Harry Potter 7.2. Twice.


• Been to Wrigley field for a Cubs game. (They won. Holler. And the hot dog was delicious.)


• Enjoyed my favorite band, Roger Clyne & the Peacemakers, live.

There is more to be done. There is time to do it. So let's enjoy the rest of summer!

Of Tuscany and beyond

Life in Chicagoland has been steamy of late. So today, instead of doing chores around the house - a place that doesn't much get below 80 degrees indoors these days - I reclined on the sofa and watched "Under the Tuscan Sun".

Let me preface my remarks by saying, I love this film. It's beautifully shot, and Diane Lane is simply a treasure.

During the early days of My Divorce, I watched two films that gave me hope while simultaneously making me feel like a total sap. The first was "Calendar Girls". Watching these beautiful, aging women discover their beauty made me believe it could happen, and want it for myself. Perhaps, subconsciously, that movie is what drove me to the gym four years ago. The second, as you've likely guessed by now, was "Under the Tuscan Sun".

I love that movie, and I loved it then, too. It was beautiful for me, in those early days, to watch someone go through divorce and come out on the other side. But one line - just one line - made it completely unrealistic to me.

Frances, the lead character, says, "Unthinkably good things can happen even late in the game. It's such a surprise."

I watched, thinking to myself that this character I loved, this pillar of strength, actually ended the film a simpering idiot. But then, time passed. Bitterness faded. (Though I still wish He Who Must Not Be Named and Judy the Ho would get a mad case of crabs.) And somehow, miraculously, unthinkably good things began to happen.

My life found its way back to me.

Today, I've padded around my little (warm!) one-bedroom walkup in bare feet, loving the cool feeling of the wood beneath them. I've run (on a treadmill), loving the feeling of one-foot-in-front-of-the-other, doing something I did not, even one year ago, know I could do. I've done bicep curls until my muscles cried, and I've done push-ups from my toes. Tonight, I will spend my evening surrounded by girlfriends ... none of whom I even knew the first time I saw "Tuscan".

So what if things didn't turn out the way I'd planned? The truth is ... I simply didn't plan big enough. Unthinkably good things, indeed.

What a weekend!

Yes, I realize that a week ago I officially started my weekend last weekend. (How many times can you use "weekend" in one sentence? Turns out, about three.) Anyhoo ... I had a blissful day and a half off of work, and quite honestly packed the 3.5 days with activity and FUN! It would be difficult if not impossible to tell this story, so I'm going to let the pictures do most of the talking.

First stop: rehearsal for Summer Showcase 2011. There is nothing like working with talented performers who also happen to be friends. Case in point, Polly Ludena. We're singing "Evil Woman" from Xanadu ... it's a freakin' blast.
Next stop: midnight viewing of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part II, in iMax 3D, natch. Complete with popcorn and milk duds. Saw the show with my friend Alexis, Linda and Lorna. Loved it. LOVED it.



Oh, Wrigley Field, I love you so. Justin and Diane treated Linda and I to a Cubs game. And really, you haven't lived until you've eaten a hot dog with thousand island dressing and kraut. To. Die. For. (The Cubs won, btw, and our seats were perfect.)



Remember how I said I loved HPatDH, pt 2? So much so that I saw it again the next night. While seated in a recliner. With a bunch of friends, and blanket that matched my outfit. And beer, calamari, quesadillas and chocolate cake. Hell to the yeah.


The next morning, believe it or not, Linda and I were at the gym for our workout. But Saturday night found us at House of Blues, Chicago to see my favorite Band, Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers. Here's Rog, being awesome.


P.H. Naffah on drums.Nick Scropos on bass, and the divine Jim Dalton (who kissed my hand at the end of the show; no lie) on lead guitar.


More Roger. Because I dig this shot.
What was the setlist, you ask? Well, I'll tell ya. Counterclockwise, Down Together, All Over the Radio, Wanted, I Don't Need Another Thrill, Heaven on a Paper Plate, Mexico, Tell Yer Momma, Maybe We Should Fall in Love, Marie, Banditos, Leaky Little Boat, Switchblade, Suckerpunch, Dinero, Hello New Day, Beautiful Disaster, Mekong, I Do and Nada. Encore was Green & Dumb, followed by a mix of Girly, an awesome cover of the Violent Femmes’ Kiss Off, the theme from King of the Hill, and finishing the last verse of Girly. Awesome.

Here's me and Linda on our way out the door, happy and full of good music.



Sunday morning came too fast, but we had an opportunity to go to the Vernon Hills branch of our gym ... the fancy club, that usually doesn't let in Our Kind of people. So we went, got our dance on for an hour and a half, and then reclined, poolside. Our friend Rebekah brought beverages, I brought sunscreen, and we had a great time. Here's Linda, Donna and me, tired but sublimely happy in the sunshine.



To say that this was a great weekend is a grave understatement. I was so thrilled to have a little time away from work to recharge and remind myself that life is a series of experiences, and when you dive into them ... you can have an amazing result.

Lessons from the Water Park

Twice now this summer, I have joined my sisters for a day at the pool. "Pool", roughly translated, means "holy crap this place is huge and can we go down the slide?" This is what they call a pool. The place is amazing ... and filled with opportunities to learn. Such as:

• My ass fits in an innertube. It's been years, and yet there you have it. Happy little Maggie, floating down a lazy river, or flying down a water slide, tushie encased in what had formerly eluded me. Yeah, that felt good.



• I freaking love water slides! It was a blast climbing up, up, up with Jenn and Bernie, only to go flying down an array of different slides. One dumps you out into a big funnel; another, into what feels like a toilet bowl. Screams and cheers and WOW that was fun! Could've done that all day, but I don't like to wait in line.



• There is a weird "trend" out there for women's swimwear. Seems if your suit is too small, you can just wear your bra under it to provide appropriate coverage. It looks hideous, but for some reason, it happens. There was a woman busting out of a black swimsuit, with a turquoise bra on underneath. Clearly, her suit would not have been street legal without the bra, but here's the thing: bathing suits are available in a variety of sizes. You are not required to squeeze 10 pounds of shit into a five-pound bag. Please stop.



• I have an amazing sense of fashion. I came to the water park in a bathing suit (which covered all the important parts), shorts and a linen shirt. All of which were my size or a little too big. However, it seemed more popular to pour oneself into a denim skirt, use innertubes as a cover-up, or wear a t-shirt into the pool than to use your brain and dress appropriately. Good Lord!



• If you're overweight, accept it. Don't try to hide it under a t-shirt in the pool, because once it gets wet, you just look like the fat guy (or girl) in a wet t-shirt who's trying in vain to cover up the fact that he (or she) is fat. Here's the gig: it's not like all of a sudden someone is going to see you in a swimsuit and realize you're fat. It's obvious, even fully clothed. Adding a t-shirt IN THE POOL just looks like you're fat and dumb. At my heaviest, I still just got in the pool. This is who you are at this moment in time. Just enjoy the pool, and no one will notice or care.



• Dippin' Dots are delicious. And they don't immediately melt in 90-degree heat. Best cooling treat ever.



• My sisters are nuts. I knew this before we got to the pool, but it became more evident as the day wore on. And I wouldn't have it any other way.



• There is no better way to spend a hot day than wooshing down waterslides, floating in a lazy river, jumping in a wave pool and lounging in the sun. Better yet to end the day with hamburgers, fries and family.

Perfect weekend, indeed.

Goodbye to June

This month has been an incredible challenge. Actually, to be more precise, 2011 has been a challenge, which seemed to culminate in an overflowing June. So as I sit here on the final day of this month, I'm more than happy to put it in my rearview mirror.

On the work front, our annual Conference was this week. All the behind-the-scenes work, of course, had to be done ahead of that, and much of it was done by my department. To say that we are all exhausted would be an understatement. This year was particularly challenging, with a lot changing and much of that at the last minute. It's no wonder I've become an insomniac.

Personally, I've had some physical challenges, as well. My Achilles continues to fight me, and although there are days when it feels okay, there are lots of days when it's painful. It's swollen every day. I should find out next week what the MRI says is wrong, and then we'll know how to proceed. Sometimes it's difficult not to feel betrayed by my body. Here I am, trying to give it the care it deserves, and it strikes back with a vengeance. I'm trying to be patient ... but that's a lot harder than it looks!

So I look to July with great hope. Hope that Independence Day weekend brings some relaxation (and fun in Wisconsin, likely accompanied by cheese.) Hope that I'll be able to take part in the races that are on my schedule. Hope that once I know what's wrong with the Achilles, I'll be able to heal it and move on. And hope that, from here on out, 2011 and I will start getting along.

Thank you, June, for showing me how strong and capable I am. (Seriously ... I did the Warrior Dash in June!) Now, don't let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya. I'm ready for July.

Five years

It was five years ago-ish ... the fateful day when my then-husband and his latest woman (now his latest wife) packed up his stuff and he moved on.

Well, good riddance to bad rubbish, my dear. And the rubbish, as it turned out, was both him and his crap. Sweet Jesus, that boy had horrible taste in just about everything, save for his first two wives.

It was a horribly difficult day, made tolerable by a dear friend who picked me up in his soft-top Jeep Wrangler, and drove me all over the Chicago area. All. Day. Long. Top down, tunes cranked. When the top's down, tears dry quickly. We drove for hours. That friend was Brian Shamie, or Cute Brian, as I call him, and he saved my life that day. Though we've since grown apart, I will never forget what he gave me - smiles and happiness on what was easily one of my top five crappiest days ever.

Five years. Sometimes, it seems like yesterday. Sometimes, if seems like the marriage never happened at all ... like it was just some crazy daydream, never part of reality.

But it did happen, I was once married to someone who took advantage of my every kindness and jumped ship as soon as things got really tough. It left me scarred and strong, and with an uncanny ability to open myself up to receive what he was unable to give me: unconditional love. It has come to me from the most unlikely of sources, and from people I never would have met if we had stayed together.

This blog was born out of a need to vent, to let out the emotion of being discarded like yesterdays newspaper. It's a testament to the healing that has happened over the past five years, and what I find most ironic is this: almost every post is one of great joy. This isn't my public-facing pity pot, it's the story of Becoming Maggie ... the real, whole, honest person I've always been, but needed a little nudge to return to.

Which leads me to wonder, what will the next five years bring? Stay tuned. Much is likely to change, but my need to write about it? Yeah, that's a constant.

Thanks for coming along for the ride thus far.

They're playin' my song/s

In the many years I've walked this planet, one thing is constant: Music. I can remember very vivid dreams as a child, imagining myself singing back-up for my favorite artists. I can recall minute details, such as what I was wearing at the age of six, harmonizing to John Denver. My life has a soundtrack, and it weaves through the most important (and unimportant) moments over the past 44 years.

So when my computer gave up the ghost a few years ago, I panicked. All I had was my iPod - my ancient, second-generation unit, which surely wouldn't be around forever. It had all my music on it, but A) I had no computer on which to update or play it and B) even if I did, iTunes wouldn't allow me to transfer it back.

Enter the new computer. My beautiful new iMac is technical perfection. And now, it houses all my music once again. (Note to self: get an external hard drive for backup.)

Thanks to a bit of software, I was able to pull my 6,000 songs off the 'Pod and back into the world. I was not prepared for how this was going to make me feel. I started toolin' around through some of the old stuff on there (Kung Fu Fighting, anyone?) and it was like a light came on. Seriously. Yes, I know it sounds cheesy, but I have my music; all feels right with my world.

Mud, sweat and beer

I can't remember whose idea it was.

I don't know whether to slap them or kill them, if I ever figure it out.

Suffice it to say, back in January, someone said, "Hey, let's run Warrior Dash." And I said yes.

Yesterday was my Dash, and it was awesome. Perfect? No. I skipped a few obstacles, because I just didn't feel safe. It took me a long-ass time to get through the entire course. But I finished, vertical, with no new injuries; that was the goal.

There was a lot of climbing in the Dash. Enough for me to realize I had a fear of heights. Who knew? But the magic of events like this doesn't come from the course, or the obstacles, or the beer, or the turkey legs. It comes from your fellow competitors. Like my friend Linda, who stuck with me through the entire course, knowing that I was not physically at my best, and wanting to enjoy the experience with me. And like the woman who waited for me atop one of the obstacle walls. You had to scale the wall - angled, but still treacherous - using a rope. At the top, you had to find a way to bend and reach over, so you could climb ladder-style down the back. Up there she waited, grabbed hold of me, hoisted my massive thigh over the top and made sure I could make it down.

The chances of me completing that obstacle without her are somewhere between slim and non-existent.

That one gave me the confidence to take on most of the others. The course was supposed to include 10 obstacles, but in the days prior to the Dash, organizers added two ... plus incredible natural obstacles like creeks and muddy, steep hills. We had to dig in, tighten the core, and hope for the best. Looking back over the day, I can't believe I made it through.

At each obstacle, Linda and I took one band off our left wrist and moved it to the right, and took a moment to honor our friend Barb, who could not participate in the Dash because she's in Ohio with her mother, who is not in good health. Those moments provided a bit of a spiritual nature to our race. The obstacles we traversed were nothing compared to the obstacles we face in real life.

3.28 miles. 12 official obstacles. Two muddy hills that required a rope to ascend. All told, before I could get to beer, turkey legs and sweet corn, I climbed a wall, traversed over a suspended cargo net, made my way up and over a box maze (which was really kind of lame), climbed another wall and dropped down the other side, pulled myself up and over a wooden archway, climbed yet another wall and slid down a fire pole on the other side, made my way up a VERY TALL cargo net only to slowly descend (while shaking) down the other side, leaped over flames ... and crawled through a mud pit.

I was feeling a little bit like a wuss, because I skipped a few challenges. I didn't climb on cars (but I did make it through some of the tires). I didn't climb the rickety platforms. And there was no way I was going to climb the wall that went straight up ... and straight down. I took one step up and my whole self started to shake; that was just not gonna happen. But my friend Linda? Yeah, the wild woman completed them all. And realizing that I completed nine of 12, when there were only supposed to be 10. Yeah, I'm a bad-ass.

Today, it's bruises and laundry. And an incredible sense of accomplishment.

Summer? A list.

This summer, while taking its sweet time to get here, has already offered me splendid opportunities to enjoy things I love. Already this year, I have lounged poolside, been out on a boat, and spent a day at a water park. It's been perfect, and it's not even really summer yet! (The solstice is June 21.) So it got me thinkin' ... what else do I not want to miss? Here is my summer to-do list:

• Participate in another obstacle race. (Doin' it this Saturday.)


• Get a bike. Ride it.


• See a movie at the drive-in.


• Rollerblade (without falling on my touchas like I did last time I tried.)


• Grill the perfect burger. (Much easier since Linda gave me a grill.)


• Spend a day at Millennium Park.


• Take yoga at Millennium Park.


• See/hear a concert at Ravinia.


• Let my friend Dale cook for me.


• Fireworks!


• Road trip to Charleston, IL.


• Take a hike.


• Have a picnic.


• Build a sandcastle.

That's it; pretty doable, I think! What's on your list?

The mirror

There was a time in the not-too-distant past when I didn't like to look in the mirror. The girl looking back at me was just not how I saw myself. Back then, I thought the difference was the extra weight. I thought I didn't like my reflection, because that girl was the fatty-moo-moo version of me.

Fast forward to now. I'm still carrying extra weight (although a lot less) and I'm still never gonna be the prettiest girl in any room ... but it's so different now, that reflection.

Who I am is what is different.

On Monday morning, I set the alarm and got up early for a run. (Yes, I did that.) I dressed in black active pants and the green t-shirt we got for running the Sweetness 5K last Saturday. I had just woken up, so I wasn't all cutesy-cute girl. And I caught a glimpse of myself in the big mirror in my bedroom.

I actually said, out loud, to my reflection, "Damn, girl ... "

That's right. I totally hit on myself.

Made me smile. And it gave me something to think about on that run. Yes, I've made changes. I've lost some weight. But the real changes have happened inside my head. I've accepted who I am. I've become something more than I was before. And that has given me confidence. It's the confidence I'm seeing in the mirror.

See, when a man like my ex-husband leaves you for the type of woman for whom he left me, ya feel scarred. It seems inevitable that, when faced with the knowledge that He Who Must Not Be Named chose Ursula the Sea Witch to yours truly, I would envision myself as less than she. (I know, I know ... but that's where the mind goes. The dark places.) He wasn't good for me when we were married, but after he left? Then he was horrible for me.

My point, I suppose, is that this has been a five-year process. It was five years ago this month that he packed up his stuff and moved out. Five long years.

Five years of growth and opportunity. Five years of peeling an onion, layer by little layer, to find out what's shakin' inside.

That's not to say that we're done; no, not by a longshot. I am still in the process of becoming, and I hope I always am.

Of weekend plans and baby carrots

I'm always hungry. This is not necessarily a good thing, especially with the weekend approaching and, with it, a slew of food opportunities ... which may or may not be appropriate.

Tonight I was planning to go to the gym, but then I thought it through and realized that was kinda dumb. I have a 5K in the morning; overdoing it tonight could make tomorrow difficult. So, tonight I'll be doing laundry and straightening out my abode.

Tomorrow's "race" is the Sweetness 5K, to benefit the Walter Payton Foundation. I was supposed to run it with two of my sisters, but both of them backed out. One has work that is calling her out of town; the other simply has too much work. Which was all well and good, honestly, because my running pals Mama Dee, Pam, Simone, Shelly and Meg are running it, too. But still, my sister Kathie didn't want me to be out there "alone", so she'll be running with me. (And by "with me", I mean "approximately ten minutes ahead of me.")

After the run, we're hoping to spend the morning/afternoon at the water park. There are storms in the forecast, however. Please make them go away.

The rest of the weekend will be comprised of Thai food and theater with Kathleen (my friend Kathleen, not to be confused with my sister, Kathie, who is also a Kathleen) and working on a massive pictorial project for a friend of mine. Should make for a relaxing weekend.

BUT ... I need groceries. I need them to be cheap and healthy. Looks like I'll be cooking some this weekend, too. So, off we go, into the blissful two days of non-work-life. Enjoy it!

Need a break? Try a 24-hour vacation.

Ahhh, Memorial Day weekend. Love it. Summer's distant call steps up close and screams in your ear, "I'M HERE!!!" At some point over the three-day weekend, it becomes time to let summer in.

My weekend started out delightfully over a splendid dinner of chips and guac. I wish I were kidding, but no matter. It was tasty. Saturday dawned bright and early, as the Misfits Run Club gathered at 6:45 (yawn) to get a 30-minute run logged before strength training class. (After which the smart people jumped in the indoor pool. Too cold for outdoors on Saturday!)

Saturday night found me in the living room at a friend's house, enjoying the company of some great girlfriends - especially Gretchen, from CT! So good to finally meet her. Anyhoo, it was a lovely evening (I brought mojitos) but I gave myself an early curfew. This girl is no longer equipped to burn the candle at both ends!

Sunday dawned stormy, and I seized the opportunity to lay in bed with my coffee and "The West Wing" on DVD. Perfection. I followed the storm system on The Weather Channel and determined that I could leave my house at around 5 p.m. to head north for my 24-hour respite.

The drive to Lake Geneva was beautiful. The storm had passed, there were a few clouds in the sky, but mostly it was just pretty. I arrived in time to visit with Amber and Jeremiah, have some spiked lemonade by the pool, and still primp before heading out. Our friend John's band was playing at a bar in Burlington, WI - the Sly Fox - and we wanted to check it out. Drank a little beer, played some darts (I came in last ... and one of the players is blind!) and enjoyed the music. Truly a fun night!

Then, Sunday arrived in all its glory. I headed out for an early morning run, and was surprised (shocked? dismayed?) at how hilly Lake Geneva is. After my warm-up walk interval, I turned a corner and BAM. Hill. Okay, I'll take you on. Thankfully there was a bit of a breeze and a lot of shade along my route, because it could have been brutal! Hills, heat and humidity; guess I'm gonna have to get used to that if I'm gonna run in the summertime, huh?

Back at the house, I dripped sweat and Amber made breakfast. Eggs, sausage, toast, hash browns, coffee ... all from the comfort of my chaise lounge. Delightful! After tidying up, we put on our bathing suits and headed for the pool.

My suit is so cute! I made a good choice; and only $20 at Old Navy. A few hours in the sun was enough for us, because at 1:30 it was time to get on a boat!

Our friend David invited us out onto Lake Como for lunch, beverages and a good time. It was 89 degrees, but out on the water the breeze was so lovely, I wasn't going to complain. We spent several hours out there, talking, laughing and enjoying the scenery. Just beautiful. I definitely felt like I'd truly departed my everyday life.

As 5 p.m. approached, it was time to head to shore, pack my things and point the Jeep south. The drive was perfect - top down, light breeze, complete harmony with the world around me. I can't imagine a better way to usher in summer than with a little activity, a little relaxation, and a lot of time with the best of friends.

Of food, family and friends

What do you do when your weekend plans go awry? You roll with it, make the best of it, and end up having a great time!

I had all-day Saturday plans, but when they went belly-up, I opted to drive to Wisconsin to surprise Kevin and Kelly, who were visiting from out of town. I had previously told Kel that it wasn't in the cards (see previous statement that I had plans), so it was so much fun to surprise her and just show up.

Laughter. Food. Repeat.

There's something about old friends (I've known Kelly for almost 30 years) that can help you make more sense to yourself. It was awesome.

I was able to visit with them guilt-free because on Friday night, I participated in the Augie's Quest fundraiser at the gym, doing a three-hour workout (two of which were cardio) ... so I started off the weekend with a calorie deficit, thereby earning my burger and strawberry shortcake. Sadly, that was my only workout of the weekend; so much going on!

Saturday night found me back home, snuggled in my little apartment and catching up on a few chores. Sunday was scheduled pretty full, so I made it an early night. The alarm went off in the morning and I was off and running (taking time to style my stunning hair, however, which has been lightened and highlighted and I freaking LOVE IT!) I drove to Aurora for my Godson Ross' Sunday School program, which also featured his brother Jack and sister Ro. Can I just say adorable? I love those kids. (Their parents aren't bad, either, and their Mammy? She's the bizzomb.) We had a leisurely lunch afterward, but I think the kids' favorite part of the day was riding around in Aunt Maggie's car with the top down.

Yeah. I'm the cool aunt.

After that it was over to my dad's to help my nephew with a school project and have dinner. I absolutely love spending time with my father. He is wise and funny, and I hope with all my heart to someday be as amazing as he is. I love spending time with my brother, my twin, whose sweetness knows no bounds. Those are the best parts of any visit home.

Weekend Wuv

Oh, shut up. I thought it was cute!

Welcome back to the "real world". Here we, staring down the barrel of another Monday. But at least we had the weekend to totally take a break from the 9 to 5 insanity! And what a weekend it was.

Started off active, which is a great way to kick Weekend Mode into high gear. Friday night was my friend Rebekah's birthday party, and because she's completely bananas, she arranged for a private Zumba lesson for all her friends at the Vernon Hills branch of my gym. (It should be noted that the Vernon club is much more posh than mine; it's a few levels up on the membership scale. They scoff when people from Schaumburg show up, but we were on the guest list, so they let us in, anyway.)

We danced. We tried to have fun. But I was simply reminded of why I absolutely hate Zumba. But that's another story for another time.

It was great to see Rebekah, and I would do it again if that's what she wanted for her celebration. Workout friend Linda and I got to catch up a little bit with workout friend Lisa, and we were also treated to amazing food from this place. Oh holy crap; it was worth it to Zumba, just to get to this food!

All too soon, Linda and I had to go. Saturday morning would bring an early alarm, because we had to Run Wild!

Here's our group - my sister Jenn, my sister Pat, me, my friend Pam and my friend Linda. We're ready to run! (Photo by a stray fellow runner.)
It was a little chilly, in my opinion, but we had a great time. I simply love these women. I am truly touched when my family and friends meet and the combination works out well. There was a lot of love! Should you have the burning desire to read my full race report, I'll have to refer you to my health and wellness blog, found here. I'm sure you'll be riveted.

So anyhoo, it was cold but fun. I wish it had been warmer, because we could have stayed the whole day in the zoo, but with the wind and our sweat, that just wasn't gonna be wise. Time to go home.

"Home" for me was Dad's house, where I mooched food, helped Alex with homework and took a bath. Dad has a great tub. Then it was off to church; Alex was playing drums in the band, and he's wanted me to come hear him, so this seemed to be a good way to work it in. He did very well, in spite of the fact that I wasn't terribly wild about the songs. Sister Pat made up for that by bringing me a frappuchino.

After church we had burgers at Dad's, which was perfect because I've been craving burgers on the grill. Seeing as I don't have a grill, I'm pretty much beholden to others to fulfill my cravings. It was delicious! I headed home at around 6:30, and had a few hours to do laundry and relax before going to bed.

Sunday started with coffee in bed and "The West Wing" on dvd; super relaxing compared to the previous morning! By 11:30, though, I was on my way to Elkhorn, WI to see my friends Jeremiah, Tim and Aimee in "Anything Goes". The beautiful Amber and I both thought it was a thoroughly enjoyable production! I really like the show, and Tim did an amazing Job. Jeremiah is just adorable, and Aimee made a great addition to the chorus. All in all, a perfect way to spend a cloudy Sunday afternoon.

After the show, Jeremiah, Amber and I went to Moy's for Chinese food. It's amazing to me to see Jeremiah navigate the world. If you read this post, you'll recall that Jeremiah is blind. And yet he's the first one to cross the street, because he can tell by the sounds of traffic if it's safe. See? Fascinating. Anyway, we had a delightful dinner, even though Amber forgot to offer Jeremiah any rice.

All in all, I couldn't have asked for a better weekend. I was busy, but I had some time to relax. I spent time with some of my favorite people, and it helped Monday morning seem a lot less daunting. Sometimes, you just need to be reminded that work isn't the only thing you do.

Simple Truths

Here, for your considerations ... some stuff I know for sure is true.

• Sometimes, having a DQ Blizzard for lunch is the wisest choice you can make.


• I have many, many facets, and when one of them doesn't shine, I'm still a gem.


• Never try to retrieve your keys from hot lava, because once they're gone, they're gone.


• A good workout comes in many forms, and you should try all of them.


• After a good workout, going down a twisty water slide is the ultimate reward.


• It's not about the run, or the time. It's about finishing, vertical, and having fun along the way.


• Conversely, if it's not your day and you can't finish, it's about being wise enough to call and end to it and go to the nearest St. Arbucks.


• There are relatives, and there is family. Some of them intertwine, but you don't have to be related to be family.


• I sleep much better when it's cool outside.


• Birthday parties are wasted on children. As we age, every year is a gift. I'm totally playing Pin the Tail on the Donkey this year.


• The new album from Roger Clyne & the Peacemakers, Unida Cantina, is freaky awesome. It reminds me a lot of the old Refreshments stuff ... yummy.


• If you can't decide what to drink, you should probably just have water.


• The most delicious food is best melted, like chocolate and cheese. Oh, fondue ... I love you.


• Stretch. You'll never regret it.


• And you really do need to wear sunscreen.

Planning, fear, and rushing headlong into the unknown

I have big dreams. If you have big dreams, you have to have big plans so you can have a big reality. Otherwise, your big dreams are just ... dreams.

So I have these big dreams - athletic pursuits, financial stability, good health. And I am working my plans. And sometimes the unthinkable happens and you realize that, no matter how solid your plan, you could be injured, have a financial emergency, or come face to face with a chocolate doughnut to which you cannot say "no".

This is the unknown territory. This is where things get a little scary. And this is where I am right now.

The Achilles has improved a great deal. Last week the doctor cleared me to run a little. As he put it, "Ease slowly back into your running routine." Okay. I can do that.

I took my first tentative steps on Saturday, wimpy intervals on the treadmill. I opted for treadmill because I figured if it hurt, at least I wouldn't be on a trail and have to limp back to the car. I kicked it up to a killer 1 percent incline (I know, I'm so daring!) and off I went - four minutes walking, one minute running. And it felt pretty good. But it also kinda hurt. I got through my half-hour workout (actually it was 34 minutes because I did a four-minute cooldown at the end) and I wasn't in pain.

But I wasn't 100 percent pain-free, either. This, my friends, is the unknown.

I don't know what's going to happen from here. I do know that I have races scheduled and I am determined to participate in them, even if I have to walk. Am I scared? Um, yeah. I want to be this athletic version of myself, and I don't know if I can do that if the injury doesn't heal 100 percent. But at this point, all I can do is dive in, do what I can and see what happens.

I should've filled my drawers with Peeps

My goal this Easter was to do something active. Sunday is not a normal workout day for me, but it's also not a normal food day for most people. It's one of those "if it ain't nailed down, eat it" sort of days. So I thought, if I can balance the massive amounts of deliciousness with a little activity, there would be a little less guilt in having two slices of pie.

Could YOU choose between Key Lime and Apple? I thought not.

So I packed my little bag with workout gear, my inline skates and my protective gear - knee pads and wrist guards. I was going rollerblading with The Nephew.

It should be noted here that I was once a rather accomplished inline skater. Sure, I fell a lot, but when you're willing to try stuff, ya gotta be willing to fall. Most of the time, though, I was able to stay upright. My sister Jenn and I could be found most weekends on the Fox River Trail, wending our way Northward with a breeze in our hair (and the occasional bug up our noses.) So I wasn't prepared for how difficult it was going to be after a few (okay, 13) years to put on the skates and hit the trail once again.

I should have tried smooth pavement. (Hell, I should have tried a padded room!) I should have gotten practice in a newly-blacktopped parking lot or somethin' like that, but instead ... we hit the trail.

The bumpy, hilly trail.

I made it up the first hill. I began to doubt my ability to skate. I made it down that hill (with many prayers of intercession.) I made it around that bitchin' curve and I made it up the second hill. I began to doubt my sanity. Then, I had a brilliant idea: The Nephew and I should abandon this trail (it really, really is bumpy) and go to another park, where there's a 1.5 mile loop that (if memory serves) is paved in such a way that it doesn't feel like gravel beneath your feet. So we turned around.

And that hill I'd just come up? I had to go down it.

I made it almost all the way to the bottom before all hell broke loose. My feet seemed to leave my body and my backside met the pavement. Skid-bounce-skid-bounce-skid-bounce-shit. I finally came to a halt. I couldn't breathe. (Seriously, I sounded like a flooded engine trying to start.) The Nephew was obviously scared that I was having a near-death experience, because he high-tailed it to my side. Once I caught my breath, we started to laugh. (And I, of course, remembered my other great skating fall, when my sister Jenn was laughing too hard to help me up while I lay in a lump, crying because I had just skinned my entire left side. I think the next generation might be kinder and gentler, but I did eventually forgive Jenn.) I got up (finally) and we began to skate back to the car. There was no way I was going to make it; my everything hurt. So I took off the skates and walked, laughing at my own "grace" and wounded pride.

It hurts. It sorta looks like I took a cheese grater to my upper thighs (or lower butt, as I like to call it.) I wrenched the hell out of my back, but I will not be deterred. Up until impact, it was great fun.

And the truth is, I only got hurt because I was willing to get out there. Sometimes, you get hurt. When you're willing to take a risk, even if it seems a rather minor one, there's the chance you're gonna end up with a boo-boo. I will do it again, and I'll probably fall. I'm gonna be smart, and I'm gonna get some practice where it makes sense - like the driveway, maybe, or a skating rink. But there's no way that was my last time on skates. Because you may not be able to teach an old dog new tricks, but an old dog is perfectly capable of re-learning tricks she used to be quite good at.

Celebration Weekend, or why I love my college town

Having made the wise financial decision to skip Homecoming at EIU last fall, I made plans instead to make the trip down for my favorite on-campus shindig - Celebration, a Festival of the Arts. I always enjoyed it when I was a student, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to head to Charleston, see friends and immerse myself in all I love about my little college town.

The drive down sucked. I chose a rainy, windy Friday night. Anyone who has ever driven 57 south knows it's no fun in the wind. It's less fun when it's dark and rainy and you're driving a kite. But no matter, I made it ... even though it took me five hours. (To be fair, I stopped to pee, fill the gas tank and get food.)

Taking exit 190B onto 16 to head in to Charleston always gives me a little rush of excitement. Yeah, I know it sounds stupid ... but I don't care. The flood of memories just can't be held back, as I anxiously await my first glimpse of "the castle" - Old Main, off in the distance. Lit up against the night sky, there it was, the iconic structure that welcomes you to EIU. Thank you, old friend. It's good to see you, too.

Turning toward downtown, I headed for "the square", and the home of Erin Potter and Chunk Rice, my hosts for the weekend. Their house is, in some ways, a typical college house, complete with uneven floors, doors that don't latch and drafty windows. But it's also the perfect little haven for studying or visiting. Erin has a little studio for just herself and painting. There's a guest room just for me at the top of the stairs. And they have furnished it in a way that's both casual and comfortable; it reminds me of my own place when I was a student.

Erin and Chunk ... aren't they cute?

So we settled in and the conversation flowed. Erin poured us each a glass of wine and we chatted about everything and nothing; a true college experience, I hadn't realized it when the clock turned 1 a.m., well past my bed time.

The next morning we stumbled, bleary-eyed, to the kitchen for coffee and a slow wake-up call. By 10 we were making our way to What's Cookin' for breakfast (plus strawberry bread to go.) I'm not sure if the food there was always that greasy and I just didn't care, or if it's gotten that way over the years, but let's just say I'm not in a big hurry to rush back there again. A little disappointing.

Not as disappointing, however, as realizing the Will Rogers Theater is closed. But ... that's where I saw "Babe 2: Pig in the City"! How could they close it down? From what Chunk said, AMC bought all the theaters in town, and that one wasn't paying its rent. G'bye, sweet old place. Oh, and AMC? You suck.

The Will ... and me, holding my loaf of Strawberry Bread.

Back home we headed; I was in desperate need of a shower. We hung out at home for awhile, watching hockey, reading and relaxing. There was a definite chill in the air, so we weren't in a big hurry to get to campus for carnival food. Eventually, the Redwings won and we were ready to head to the quad.

IT WAS COLD. Seriously. Our fingers were frozen, so we didn't linger any longer than it took to eat a funnel cake, barbecued chicken, crab Rangoon and a shish-ke-bob. Instead, we walked through the rehabbed Booth Library; wow, is it gorgeous! Then we made our way over to the Botany department's prairie plant sale, where I bought goodies for Dad and Jenn. Seemed like the right thing to do, seeing as it was April 16 - seven years after the day Mom died. She would have loved the plant sale. She probably would have bought them all.

The clock tower.

We made our way to the Doudna Fine Arts Center, an incredible work of art in its own right. Erin does most of her schoolwork here, and I was able to see several of her projects - complete, or in the process. Beautiful stuff; she's quite a talented young lady. So we hung out in that gorgeous building for a little while longer, and then headed back home to warm up before heading back to campus.

Dr. Patricia Poulter, Interim Associate Dean of the College of Arts and Humanities - and more importantly, my friend - was incredibly kind, securing tickets for Chunk, Erin and I with her group for the showcase concert of Celebration. The Sierra Leone Refugee All-Stars were nothing short of breathtaking. From their moving, percussive entrance through the final note of the last song, it was an evening I'll not soon forget.

In the middle of their second song, I thought to myself, "Are we really gonna sit here like polite white people while these incredible musicians have all the fun?" And then, it happened. The hippies decided it was time to dance. In a patchouli-scented crowd, they moved toward the stage, jumping, dancing ... joyful. It took only moments before Lumi, a friend of Patty and therefore a friend of mine, got up to dance. When Patty requested I go along, who was I to question it? I got up. I danced. And if you'll pardon me while I sound a little "out there," but ... there was a definite feeling of unity.

I looked around, and there were just people, dancing. Old, middle-aged, young, stoned, stone-cold sober, good dancer, good smiler, it didn't matter. We were all up there for just one reason: to experience the music. And it was certainly something to behold. I didn't dance through the entire show, however. Through most of it, I sat next to my friend (and Patty's husband) Brian, who is one of the funniest people I have ever met. Simply put, I love these people

Following the concert, "the kids" and I headed to Roc's for a pint. We chatted, I thoroughly enjoyed my Harp, and we wound down. My mini-vacation was almost over. My last night on the air mattress was a rough one, because the nip in the air seemed to get right into my bones. But I finally slept and was up early, enjoying a cup of coffee in the quiet of early morning.

The kids got up to say goodbye, and I headed out to church. Patty is the choir director at Wesley Methodist in Charleston; it was the perfect place to be on Palm Sunday. I got to meet her pastor, see her friend Harry again (he came to the Saturday concert with us, and is also the church organist) and meet her grandson and son-in-law. It is so clear how much Calvin loves his grandma Patty; I think he'd still be hugging her if he could've gotten away with it!

And then, it was time to say yet another goodbye. Patty and I agreed that I should come down for a visit this summer, when Brian is away on what seems to be the annual bike trip. I miss her spirit; she's awesome, and I'm looking forward to going back to see her and the dogs, and meet the cats.

Heading home, I decided to take the long way. See, when you take interstate 57, it's all about getting to your destination. But when you take 47, it's the journey that's important, and not finally getting to the end. I drove through Gibson City, where they've torn down the Rock-n-Roll McDonald's in favor of a fancier building. I looked in awe at the Cayuga Ridge South Wind Farm, just south of Dwight, as I passed acres and acres of huge wind turbines, their arms spinning in a natural-power ballet. And yes, I stopped in Dwight at the gas station where Dad once had to pick me up, after the struts on the old Ford Probe gave me the finger.

Wind farm ... so majestic.

Soon, I was pulling into Dad's driveway, having made the journey I'd made so many times before. There is something about going "home" after spending some time in college, even years after you graduated. It never gets old. We visited, and I took home a care package of homemade cookies and granola. We talked about Mom and Alex tried to make me feel guilty for not staying to dinner and there was laughter all around. It was the perfect way to end my trip, but the trip wasn't quite over yet

No, I still had an hour to drive until I got home, and then a few loads of laundry before I could truly relax. The chores were done by 7 and it was time to breathe slowly and get ready for a new week, leaving the weekend behind me. And yet, while it's back there, a part of the recent past, some things will stick with me.

Things like strawberry bread (which I think it's stuck to my hips) and African rhythms, laughter and coffee, hugs and eating crab Rangoon in the cold. It was one of those weekends that makes you realize that, sometimes, it is totally worth the effort it takes to completely shake up your routine.

Natural curiosity in the face of blind Elvis

Last weekend, I met my first blind dude.

I didn't know he was blind. He looked nothing like Ray Charles. I met him when I walked into Amber's house, and it took about a half hour for someone to tell me he's blind - and even then, only because I sorta stepped in it.

See, Amber is gorgeous, but she doesn't always realize that. So when she was explaining how she felt fat and ugly (which we women do all the time when men aren't listening,) I said, look, take it from us. We're the people with functioning eyes who actually have to look at you. And she says, well, not exactly.

Seriously, he looks nothing like Andrea Bocelli.

Naturally, I am fascinated. What can you see? Basically light and color. How do you get around? Why are your eyes so pretty? (They are the color of honey; I am not kidding.) Do you have a dog? I don't care what you think, but you are so not driving.

He's awesome. He didn't seem to mind the barrage of questions, and I just find him fascinating. And I love him even more because he seems to have brought out the best in Amber. She describes him as "perfect" without a single thought to his eyesight, or lack thereof. He went with us to karaoke. He sings a perfect Elvis. And realize what all that means; he doesn't get the benefit of the words, or even knowing what song he's going to be singing before the intro starts. He can't read the screen, he just sings. (He also walks perilously close to the edge of the stage, but he's figured this whole thing out so he's fine.)

My day in Lake Geneva was fantastic. I came away with an awesome haircut, ate a delicious bagel sandwich, got to have some quality Amber time, sang a little karaoke, and had my eyes opened by blind Elvis. It really doesn't get much better than that.

Because I don't want to shave my legs, or why I will likely remain single

I've been tossing this around in my brain for awhile, because it seems even at my advancing age, many people can't wrap their minds around the fact that I'm content single. Do I miss the companion ship of marriage? Yes. I miss Sunday mornings reading the paper. I miss having someone to help me carry the groceries inside. But for the most part, I am happier single than I ever was in my marriage. Have I given up? Well, not really. You have to want something before you can give it up! So here I offer you some of my very best reasons for remaining single. Enjoy!

• Seriously, I don't shave my legs. Well, very often, anyway. During the winter, when I'm clad in opaque tights almost every day, there seems to be no point. In the summer, especially if I'm going to be at the pool, I'll put in the effort, but more often than not, it's just not a priority. (To be fair, I'm not very hairy. I could go a few weeks before anyone - including myself - noticed.)


• I like having my time and my money to myself. When I'm in a relationship, I give up the reins on those two most important things. (Which likely explains why divorce left me bankrupt, but that's another story, never mind, anyway ... ) Now, my budget reflects my values, not those of someone else. Unless I were to meet someone whose values mirrored my own, or who had plenty of money and would never need to dip into my account ... it's just not practical.


• The food. Good GOD, I love food. And I hate considering the needs, wants and allergies of others when I'm doing the cooking. Cooking for one is a complete joy, with leftovers.


• I sleep in the middle of the bed. It took me awhile, but that's where I belong. Anyone who wants to share for more than a few hours had better bring a rollaway.


• I don't look pretty on the weekend. Unless I have somewhere to go, I can often be found sans makeup, with my hair in a messy ponytail, wearing flannel pants, a sweatshirt and Uggs. The perfect ensemble for cleaning the house, or laying on the sofa watching a Buffy the Vampire Slayer marathon.


• I watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer marathons. And Firefly marathons. And NCIS marathons. And I can spend whole weekends watching The West Wing. My choice. My house. My remote.


• I drink milk and OJ out of the container, but I hate when other people do that.


• The cat takes precedence. If the cat is on my lap, I will wait for him to move before I do. He's little and furry; his needs come before mine, and they sure as hell come before anyone else's. I mean, unless you're on fire.


• I love my friends. I like spending time with them, and I like that time to be about me, and them ... not introducing someone new into the mix. Especially now, after so many friends from my Past Life are back in my life, I have no interest in making those introductions. Thank you, no.


• I'm selfish, and I'm fine with that.


• I travel with my dad. The ex got irritated when I would run off to Disney World with my family or my dad. Ya know what? Fuck you. I will never again apologize for the time I spend with the people who've known me the longest. They are awesome. Is it weird to be 44 years old and still go on family vacations. I don't know. But more importantly, I really don't care.

And that's where my brain is. I'm sure there are more reasons, but as it stands today, I am perfectly content. Because living alone is not the same as being alone.

Ten on Tuesday, March 22

1. Sonofabitch, I've hurt my Achilles. Time to pause training, and hope to be able to pick it up again before April 10, the Shamrock Shuffle. (And while I'm at it, please say a prayer to whomever you pray to that I can not only run it, but finish injury-free.)
2. I have an appointment to get my hair cut on April 2. I was thinking I'd go short for summer, and then today I am having a fabulous hair day. Ain't that always the way?
3. The St. Arbucks vanilla coffee - the kind you buy and brew at home - is really quite delicious.
4. Yoga can be a really tough workout. I participated in a class last Sunday that featured 108 sun salutations. In yoga, it's a way to usher in a new season. I loved the class, although I was dripping in sweat halfway through. And two days later, my everything still hurts. Turns out those little buggers work every muscle in the body. Ow.
5. I've come to the conclusion that my friends are the most incredible people ever. I am participating in the Walk MS 2011, to benefit the National Multiple Sclerosis Society. Until rather recently - over the past few years - MS wasn't a cause I was even aware of, because it didn't touch my life directly. Then, I met my friend Gretchen, who is one of the fiercest and funniest women at the gym. She has MS, and she is working so hard to kick its ass. It is an honor and a privilege to walk with her, and I am honored to walk with the generosity of so many friends behind me. In one day, you blew past my fundraising goal and more than doubled it. Yup. My friends rock.
6. On a similar note, one of the people who sponsored me was my eighth-grade English teacher, Mr. Powles. How cool is THAT?
7. If there's on thing I can't stand, it's ignorance. If there are two, the second one would be the lack of kindness. It costs nothing to be kind. Sometimes we're a little incapable, but most of the time, it helps to remember that we don't know everyone's story; being kind to someone could quite literally be the best thing that happens to that person all day. Why not?
8. Are budgets ever really finished? I feel like just when I get a handle on mine, something else comes up to mess with me. It's a living, breathing organism, I guess.
9. So I'm participating in this thing that started on Facebook, where the first five people who commented get something handmade by me. I finished the first and am working on the second, and last week I actually received one! My Janie crafted for me the most beautiful quilted bag. It's in different green fabrics. It makes me swoon.
10. I think I'm actually gonna lose the second toenail on each foot. Kinda makes me feel like a badass. (Also kinda think it's gross.)

This week's 10

1. Sometimes I think of the salad bar at Whole Foods as my personal chef.
2. I'm confused and befuddled. No one seems to be rushing to put on a telethon for Japan. I can't bear to watch the footage; the little bits I've seen are just devastating. I think it will be years before we understand the full effect of the earthquake, tsunami and eventual nuclear breakdown that happened over there, and yet the relief effort seems so much less than the outpouring for Haiti. Is it because Haiti is such a poor nation, or are we still upset over Pearl Harbor? Or is it something else that I just haven't thought of yet? I don't know, but it leaves me ... confused and befuddled.
3. I get a huge kick out of looking at clothing. I don't buy much, but I totally dig the realization that if I did, I could actually wear it.
4. Last night at the gym, a woman I don't know told me I look fantastic. Random encounters like that totally make my freakin' day.
5. For the first time in about five years, I listened to the Rent soundtrack. I love the music. I always respond to it emotionally, but since that guy I was married to broke my heart, it's been impossible to listen to. Some couples have a song; we had an entire musical, and Rent was it. But over the weekend, I got a hankering to hear it. I popped it into the car stereo and listened on my way to Long Grove, and it was as if it belonged just to me again. Sometimes the greatest joy comes from taking something back.
6. Speaking of Long Grove, I participated in a 5K race there over the weekend, and for the first time completed the run with an average of less than 15 minutes per mile. Yes, I am still one of the slower runners out there, but I'm only racing against myself. I have nothing to prove to anyone but me, and it's pretty amazing to feel the improvement over time.
7. People ask me from time to time what it is that I'm doing to lose the weight. Really, do they think I'm going to come up with some brilliant idea no one has heard before? I stopped eating everything that wasn't nailed down. I started exercising. When that stopped working, I ate a little less and I moved a little more. Lather, rinse, repeat. There is no magic pill, there is no miracle formula. Eat less; move more. Anyone who advises you any other path to health and wellness is trying to sell you something.
8. I'm pretty sure, however, that I was not meant to have that particular tightness across my shoulders. Lots of upper back work at the gym last night. Damn you, Pam!
9. There seems to be a whole lotta stupid going around. Can we vaccinate against that stuff?
10. Monster sweet tooth. That, and water retention, probably mean the scale and I are not gonna get along tomorrow. Sigh.

Ten on Tuesday, March 8

1. Gotta run! I have a race on Sunday in Long Grove - the St. Paddy's Day 5K. Unwisely, I signed up for this not realizing that the night before is when we spring ahead. Yeah, I'll probably sleep like a dog that night.
2. I realize we're not even halfway through March, but I am already excited for April. I get to hang with two of my faux Bros! The weekend of April 9 & 10, Mike will be here, doing some training stuff. That means he'll be with me for the Shamrock Shuffle, the 8K I'm running on April 10. Should be a hoot! Then the following weekend, I'll be taking the First Roadtrip of Spring to head down to Charleston for Celebration Weekend. Looking forward to seeing the town and campus, not to mention The Poulters ... and strawberry bread.
3. There is one week out of every month during which I could eat pretty much anything that isn't nailed down. That's right now. You've been warned.
4. A girlfriend asked me over the weekend if I was dating anyone. The simple answer is no, and I won't be looking. Quite honestly, I have put five years worth of work into the person I'm becoming, and I really have no interest in sharing it with Some Guy. Sometimes, being on your own can be a lot less lonely than being in a relationship.
5. Like an idiot, I went to the gym last night only to realize I forgot my shoes. So there I stood, wearing a sweater and underwear, with no way to work out. The skirt and boots went back on, and I scowled the whole way home. At least next week, if that happens, it will still be light enough out that I can run in the 'hood if I want to. Sheesh!
6. I really like toast. The way it smells makes me happy. (And the sound of it being done, when the toaster plays the Mickey Mouse March, doesn't hurt, either.)
7. Had my "annual review" with the doctor last Thursday. Test results are all in. Overall cholesterol: 145; less than 200 is good. HDL (the good cholesterol): 72 ; more than 46 is good. LDL (the bad cholesterol): 59; less than 130 is good. Triglicerides: 72; less than 150 is good. Blood glucose: 81; less than 100 is good. (Other "girly" tests came back normal, too, in case you were wondering.) The nurse who called wanted to know what I was doing, because - as she put it - "I'd like to have numbers like that." There's no secret; it's just taking care of yourself. Eat less. Move more. Live in balance.
8. Over the weekend, I had a little chat with my nephew, Alex. Whenever I visit, he seems to conjure up errands that must be run. He's in Driver Ed, and can drive my car for practice, and who wouldn't want to do that? Anyway, when he's driving, he's also a captive audience. So I take the opportunity to impart great wisdom. This week's nugget? "It's never too early, or too late, to start becoming who you are meant to be." I think it's true, no matter who you are
9. I am in desperate need of a new pair of jeans. Perhaps this weekend, I shall carve out a bit of time to shop!
10. It's Fat Tuesday. Red beans and rice for lunch, and avoiding paczki for breakfast. Brings back lots of memories of New Orleans. The best of times, fo sho.

New Orleans, March 18, 1997. Most of the time, we were happier than this.

Ten things I've learned

Perhaps you're tired of hearing about it already, but please bear with me. Running - and my quest for health in general - has taught me a lot in the short time I've been truly dedicated to it. I've learned a lot. Such as ...

1. I'm stronger than I think I am. There are things I can't do - like a pull-up - but most things, I can. I just need to try. I can do push-ups from my toes. (I can't get get my upper arms parallel to the floor while I do them, but I will. Fo sho.) I can run. (Intervals, but it counts.) I can take a few hours on a Tuesday night and torch 1,000 calories. I can hold Boat Pose in yoga. And one day, I'll be doing pull-ups. Guaranteed.
2. I found myself running. It sounds stupid, I know, to "find" oneself. I mean, I was never on the side of a milk carton, right? But I was lost for a long, long time. I had lots of friends and people who care about me, pointing me toward me, but it's hard, sometimes, having gone through the tough stuff to know who you are, where you fit in the world. But when you're out for a run, you are alone; yet, you're surrounded by people. Whether you're on a treadmill or on the road, there's a whole world reaching out to push you forward. You can have complete solitude as you compete with yourself to get you to your destination. It's kind of incredible. I found myself out there, this strong, independent woman who looks at a challenge and says, "Okay, let's go!"
3. It's difficult, but not impossible, to completely change your life. And grand, sweeping changes begin with one small step.
4. People make it worthwhile. I first entered my gym with a similar attitude with which I went off to college. Both times, my intent was to take a solitary journey, to accomplish a goal and be done with it. And both times, people have crossed my path of whom I have no intention of letting go. My life is more joyful not only because of my physical health, but because I am not alone on the journey.
5. Making others proud feels great. Making yourself proud is the shit.
6. You never know what you can do until you try. Scale a wall? Run a mile? Weigh less than I have in 13 years? Yeah, I can do that.
7. Setting goals is easy. Reaching them takes work. Every day. But after awhile, it really does become a habit. Most days these days, I reach effortlessly for my gym bag. It's expected; it's just what I do.
8. You can have the really good premium ice cream. You just have to measure out portions instead of eating out of the container. Like right now, there's a quart of Whole Foods' Salted Caramel Gelato in my freezer. For each half-cup serving, I log 160 calories. (No, I don't eat more than half a cup at at time.) I can do that a few times a week, and I feel indulgent and awesome. And it doesn't blow my calorie budget!
9. The rest really is as important as the work. I don't obsess. I work my plan, and it's all good. Part of my plan is rest - every Wednesday, I do yoga; nothing strenuous, no major calorie burn. Every Friday, I take a day off from working out. On Sundays, if I feel like it, I'll head outside for a run, but it's not required. The plan helps me strike a balance. And isn't that really what it's all about?
10. Small improvements feel incredible. The first time you're able to do something well - whether it's take a lunge deeper or do a perfect crunch or hold your plank - makes you realize that the work is paying off. It's not (only) about the way you look and feel; it's about the way the human body responds to the work. Your body will pay you back for every bit of effort you put into it.