Friday, May 12, 2017

How much is enough?

How much is enough? In running, in life? Am I strong/happy/intelligent/talented/wealthy enough? Am I good enough? At friendship, marriage, work, human-ing?

How many of you have asked yourself these questions? *raises both hands*

If so, let me propose two answers.

The First

There are so many better questions to ask. Questions like:

How can I help?
How can I be happy with less?
For what am I grateful?
Where am I struggling and how can I put more love there?
How are others struggling and how can I send some love there?

When we ask the how much is enough? questions, what we're really seeking is a jolt of reassurance (yes, you are doing enough, relax dude) or a slap of motivation (no, you could do more, get your butt going!). But they are false idols and you don't need either. Am I enough? is a judgmental question rooted in fear, insecurity or uncertainty. You don't have to worry about those things. You don't have to compare yourself to anyone else (or to your past selves). Life is uncertain and sometimes scary. But you can just let that be the truth it is without worrying about it or trying to change it (you can't change it, by the way. Sorry, dude. None of us can). If you let go of the impulse to judge or control things, there is no need for that line of is it enough? questioning. You can just be who you are, your own unique imperfect self, living your own unique imperfect life, and realize how amazing that is.

The Second

If you absolutely must know, then yes. You are enough! You are so fucking enough! (swears for emphasis on the fact that You. (yes, you!) Are. Enough). Whatever you are right now is enough. That doesn't mean you can't work hard or take on challenges or learn new things. Do all of those. They will change your life for the better. It just means that you are doing the best you can with what you know and what you have right now. And that's all any of us can do in any given moment. When you know better, you can do better. But there's no particular size or shape or income or any other arbitrary accomplishment you need to achieve in order to be enough. Wherever, whatever, whoever you are right now, you are valuable and beautiful and awesome. You are enough.

Let me reiterate, in case you still have doubts:

how much is enough
Hugging sea lions agree that you are so fucking enough

It's true. Read it (over and over and over, if you have to) until you believe it. The more you can accept and internalize this, the better your life will be. You will be more compassionate with yourself and others. You will stop taking things personally and your interactions with other people will improve. It will create a space of grace that will allow you to act from a mindset of gratitude and generosity rather than a mindset of fear and inadequacy. Give yourself that space. Give others that space. It's the nicest gift.

Lyric of the moment: "When we grew up, our shadows grew up too. But they're just old ghosts that we grow attached to. The tragic flaw is that they hide the truth. That you're enough. I promise you're enough..." ~Sleeping At Last "You are enough"

Sunday, May 7, 2017

Medved Madness 2017

This year Medved Mudness would be a more appropriate name for this race. Though running 15 miles through mud and rain, on a course that runs through a pond, does require a certain amount of madness. Pete signed us up for this race months ago, but after a rainy week with nothing but rain, rain and more rain predicted for the weekend, I started to get cold feet. Cold rain is my least favorite running weather. Well, that's not entirely true. I suppose that honor belongs to hail. But when I woke up Friday morning to a steady rain, I figured eh, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em and ran a few miles to acclimate myself to the deluge. Saturday I went to play on the Crescent trail for 4 hours with Bertrand, Green, Mertsock and crew. There were a few very wet and muddy sections but most of the trail was in decent shape and luckily the rain held off until we were done. I knew I wouldn't be so lucky on Sunday.

Sure enough, my figurative cold feet turned into literal cold feet less than a mile into the race. At the starting line, Mort had promised us four things: mud, wet feet, good food and beautiful trails. Madness/Mudness delivered on all four. The first (blue) loop, I ran with Pete. It was like some kind of weird mud tasting event where we sampled all the different types of mud - brown stinky mud, black slightly less stinky mud, shoe-sucking calf-deep mud. It wasn't too bad though. We've definitely run through worse mud (I'm looking at you, Finger Lakes 50K 2015). After 5ish miles, and running around the bucket in the pond, per course directions, we ran back through the start/finish chute (well, I ran. Pete moonwalked). We high-fived Mort and headed out for the second (pink) loop.

By this point, everyone was spread out so we got to run the next 5ish miles with the woods mostly to ourselves. I've missed running with Pete and it was so nice to get in 10 miles together, even though it was a bit cold for my liking (Though there are far worse things than having to wear gloves in May). Loop two wasn't terribly muddy, at least in comparison, although it was decidedly windier in places. The sun managed to peek out a a few times, but then it would get cloudy and drizzly again. Pete decided he wanted to stop after 10 miles and at first, I was a little bummed that I'd have to run the third loop alone, but once I was out there running, I was like a kid me in a candy store. No matter the weather or whatever else is going on in life, once I'm out there, I'm just running wild and free and happy. 

I'd left my hydration pack with Pete and decided I would try to finish the third (orange) loop in under an hour. This was by far the muddiest loop. And that's really saying something. I walked through the obscenely muddy spots where it was hard to judge how deep it was, but I ran all the rest. It started to rain again, but I was warm enough and close enough to the finish that I didn't really mind. I was just happy that I felt so good (thanks, body!). Even Cardiac Hill seemed shorter than usual. And I did manage to finish this loop in under an hour. It may not have been the smartest way to end a 52 mile week, but it was fun. 

Madness is one of those races I have to be talked into (I don't like Sunday races), but every year I leave full of salt potatoes and very glad I ran it. Because running for hours in the woods is a kind of madness. The very best kind.

Conehead & Husband Man on the far right. Photo by Daniel Medved

Previous episodes of Madness: 2106  2015  2014

Lyric of the moment: "There was a time when my world was filled with darkness, darkness, darkness. And I stopped dreaming, now I'm supposed to fill it up with something, something something. In your eyes I see the eyes of somebody I knew before, long long long ago. But I'm still trying to make my mind up. Am I free or am I tied up? I change shapes just to hide in this place but I'm still, I'm still an animal..." ~Miike Snow "Animal"

Monday, May 1, 2017

Rebuttal to the body shamers

This morning during a HIIT class at the gym, the instructor mentioned how it was now shorts season, then made some unkind remarks about a random stranger she had seen who was wearing very short shorts, had "dimpled skin" and was "too young to not be toned." It had nothing to do with the workout and made me not want to go to this particular class again. Early morning runs/workouts are my favorite way to start the day. Listening to disparaging remarks about strangers is not. I know judgments are more about the judger's own insecurities than anything to do with the judged. Happy, self-actualized people don't feel the need to denigrate others to feel better about themselves. Yet I still felt saddened and disappointed by her words. Society inundates us with so many judgmental and body-shaming messages as it is and to see women doing this to other women is disheartening. The instructor wasn't talking about me but she might as well have been. I wear short shorts when I run or work out. I don't have a perfectly toned butt or thighs. I have cellulite, bruises, scars. But I don't think this makes me any less of a runner/woman/person. My self worth isn't defined by the way I look. I care far more about the size of my heart than I do about the size of my ass. I didn't take her comments personally, but they still bothered me because that body shaming mentality is so pervasive in our culture. And I felt compelled to spread a counter-message of love and acceptance and awesomeness. So this is my rebuttal.

I often Instagram pictures of me practicing chin-ups on my home chin-up bar. Not because I'm good at chin-ups. I'm actually terrible at chin-ups. But I'm good at effort and persistence. I'm an ordinary person attempting extraordinary things, again and again, and becoming stronger in the process. So this is a picture from the other side. These are my not-toned legs. They are strong and have run thousands and thousands of miles. These are my shortest and most toucan filled shorts. They are ridiculous and I love them. These are my not-toned arms. They work hard to pull me up (since I haven't yet figured out how to levitate). This is me, perpetually trying to be a stronger, kinder, better person. This is my wall, which reminds me "You must not be afraid to dream a little bigger my dear." This is me telling you that you are beautiful and amazing and capable of epic things. In fact, you're a rare, limited edition, one-of-a-kind masterpiece of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen and nitrogen. And so is everybody else. So let's use our words and actions to build others up instead of tearing them down. Let's be excellent to ourselves. Let's be excellent to each other. And let's work hard and party hard for as long as we're lucky enough to be alive.

Lyric of the moment: "All of your flaws and all of my flaws. When they have been exhumed, we'll see that we need them to be who we are. Without them we'd be doomed..." ~Bastille "Flaws"

Thursday, April 20, 2017

The story behind the book. Or WTF am I even doing here?

So if you didn't know, I wrote a book. It's not a big deal. It's a pretty short book, more of a booklet really. That's not the interesting thing. The reason it came to be is. So this is that story, the story behind the book.

Flashback to the beginning of this year. I found myself struggling with a lot of personal (non-running related) things. Watching the country devolve into a terrible dystopian reality show was stressful (America's Got Talent Racists! Misogynists! Homophobes! Xenophobes!). Work was stressful (in a bad way). Figuring out how to actually live with the person I married was stressful (in a good way, the kind of way that forces you to be a kinder, better human. See: Stop taking shit personally that is not personal. And: Rut-roh! In your efforts to avoid making the same mistakes you've made in the past, you've overcompensating so hard that you're venturing awfully close to kind-of-an-insensitive-jerk territory. See also: Don't assume someone else can read your mind, even if you think it's glaringly obvious that no, you don't want cold water thrown on you as a "surprise" while you are taking a shower).

When it rains, it pours. But even when it pours, I run. And I'm just happy to be out there. One stupidly early morning, I was running, generating neurons. You know, as you do. And I realized that I'm the best version of me when I'm running. It doesn't matter what happens, if I'm having a good day or a bad day, if running feels effortless or nigh impossible, I'm just excited to be there. Somehow I have become that (borderline insufferably happy) runner. I decided to figure out how it happened so that I could become that relaxed/non-judgmental/easy-going/insufferably happy person in the rest of my life. (Because I do not half-ass things. I am a whole ass or I am nothing!). So it began. I ran a lot. I thought a lot. I cried a lot. I felt all the feels. Like what the fuck am I even doing with my life? Things are sad and mean and I'm not doing anything to make them better. And I'm letting Pete down by not being the best life/adventure partner that I can be. It was heavy. Like there's-something-wrong-with-the-earth's-gravity heavy. But I kept running and writing and I found the things you can only find by getting lost.

I learn many things the hard way. I then forget and have to relearn them. That's why I'm always writing things down. This blog, the book, everything I've ever written is just me leaving little word breadcrumbs for myself to find my way back to I-Love-Everything-Land and Be-A-Better-Person-Ville. With my extensive vault of faults to work through, I'll probably end up being quite a prolific word-slinger. Apologies if you thought you were going to be rid of me anytime soon!

So I wrote the book, then spent a while hemming and hawing and realizing I could spend forever editing it to death. Instead I decided it was good enough and released it out into the world, where it could be ignored or judged or used as firewood. I do not care if this book is a "success" by anyone else's standards. If even one person gets even one iota of happiness or feels even one tiny inkling less alone in the world, it will be a success in my book (I could not resist using this expression here. Language, man. It's endlessly entertaining). I enjoyed the process of creating it and putting it out there for those who choose to read it. Most importantly, I caught a glimpse of an answer to the question, WTF am I even doing here? I'm not particularly talented at anything. But for some reason I have this gift of finding love and happiness in everything. So I'll keep doing that and sharing my experiences along the way. Because the world sure could use more love and happy.

Party on, my friends. As always, infinity of thanks for being here.

If you want to check out the actual book, you can find it on Amazon as an eBook Running For The Thrills: The art of running and living happy. Now available in a new print version! Or on Barnes & Noble as an eBook for Nook here. There may soon be an audiobook as well - I'm undecided on that. Feedback and opinions are welcome! Please share the links with anyone you think might be interested. I will now stop talking about this as I fear it's becoming annoying.)

running, happiness, ultrarunning

Lyric of the moment: "Let me assure you, friend, every day is ice cream and chocolate cake. And what you make of it. Let me just say, you get what you take from it. So be amazed. And never stop, never stop. You gotta be brave. All this beauty, you might have to close your eyes. And slowly open wide. And watch the sun rise..." ~The Weepies "All This Beauty"

Monday, April 10, 2017

Life is my running coach and running is my life coach

Running and being alive are two of my most favorite things. I've found that the lessons I learn from one are often applicable to the other. Running makes me better at life and life makes me better at running. Life and races are a crapshoot. I can do my best to prepare, but a lot of things - weather, other people, random acts of The Universe/Flying Spaghetti Monster/Whatever - are out of my control. Some days everything seems to go my way and I fly through my run or my life effortlessly. Some days I fall in a pothole/puddle/well of negative thoughts and wallow there crying until I get enough sleep/carbs/hugs/stupid adventures to restore my energy/optimism/sanity. Running and life are constantly teaching me lessons in letting go - of judgments, expectations and attachments - and in giving more - effort, kindness and love. They push me, at times with gentle nudges, at times with epic blows, to be ever stronger, wiser and more awesome. The flexibility, fortitude and fearlessness I've gained running the trails of my city help me to navigate the trails of my life. Learning from and overcoming the faults, failures and frustrations of my life helps me deal with the low points of a run and make the best of whatever happens. Sometimes travel plans or illness lead to a missed workout and it's Coach Life's way of saying Slow down, rest is important too. Sometimes my legs lead me to just the right place at just the right time to catch a beautiful sunrise and it's Coach Running's way of saying See how awesome life is? Relax and party on. I don't follow a set life plan or a training plan. But there's a method to my madness and a madness to my method that always seems to lead me to Awesometown.

Lyric of the moment: "Good and bad times we've been through. You got my back and I got yours too. All of my life you are in my crew. I'd do anything for you..." ~Transplants "Gangsters and Thugs"

Wednesday, April 5, 2017

Fortunate Cookie

Pete's had a bad cold since Friday and I was trying so hard not to catch it. But yesterday I woke up with a sore throat and a bad attitude. What am I, fucking Mar-a-Largo and all the douchebugs want to stay here? I felt annoyed at my body for being so very flawed and imperfect and not even being able to fly, even though I've spent the better part of 21 years trying. I felt annoyed at my mind for being so very flawed and imperfect and failing at all the things. But that was not helping anything, so I left that pity party early and went in search of chemicals. I didn't start this fight but I was damn well going to finish it. I needed to get some hardcore nutrients on that shit, so I pounded all the vitamins, tumeric, Cold-Eeze, Ricola lozenges and gross, licorice-y Throat Coat medicinal tea I could find. After work I picked up some Chinese takeout tofu vegetable soup (when I'm sick, nothing tastes as good as that soup and those crunchy noodle things). A fortune cookie told me "Everywhere you go, friendly faces will greet you."

And I laughed. Because it's true. So unbelievably awesomely true. It's like the Universe was telling me, chill, dude, you'll be fine. Suddenly I realized that every mistake, every perceived failure somehow led me to the exact right place and the exact right time to meet the most incredible people (and the utmost incredible Mozzie). All my flaws somehow led me to the very best places, led me to you. Maybe this ideal of the perfect, flawless, impenetrable self is overrated. Maybe I am me, maybe I am here because of my weird, wibbly wobbly timey wimey bits, not in spite of them. That cookie wisdom, man. It gets me every time.

(This post is brought to you by the letters NYQUI and L).

Lyric of the moment: "These things and more I wish I had not done.But I can't go back. And I don't want to. 'Cause all my mistakes, they brought me to you..." ~The Avett Brothers "All My Mistakes"

Saturday, April 1, 2017

19 miles of hill repeats: a series of increasingly terrible Haikus

With all the snow melt and rain, the trails are a sloppy mess, so Matt, Alison and I took our long run to the streets. Somehow this turned into the epically terrible stupid excellent idea to run Rich's Dugway hill repeats. For three hours. Because nothing could go wrong with that plan. It was, as they say, an experience. I've run the Dugway many times before but only for an hour at a time. That is more than enough. Well, until you have three hours and two friends to make it into an adventure. That's what they call it when your watch is all sorry, dude, ran out of numbers, your heartrate is just a sad black line now, right? Hills were run. Conversations and laughs were had. Until laughing hurt our abs too much. The house that always smells like pot smelled like pot. We saw a cat carrying a dead squirrel in its mouth. I wished someone would carry me around. We saw another runner, Doug on the Dugway. We ran for 3 hours, 14 ups, 2100' of elevation and 19 miles. I wondered how I'm ever going to be able to run more than double that at Many On The Genny in June. After many more idiotic adventures like this one I suppose. So until next time, I wrote a bunch of terrible Haikus about our April Fools Day/A Fool's Errand Run. Because these are my Saturdays, these are my awesome friends, this is my life. And it's the best.

Let's run hill repeats!
For three hours! Fun. So fun.
Fun as in insane.

Here we go! First one.
Shit. I'm tired already.
Sweet, sweet downhill. Yes!

Up, up, still more up.
Thank Ultra Gods for good friends.
Hills alone would suck.

That house smells like pot.
That cat has a dead squirrel.
Dugway's a weird place.

Up and down and up.
Watch says my heart rate is null.
Am I dead? Zombie?

Legs, everything hurts.
Focus on what doesn't hurt.
Hair. Eyes. Fingers. Boobs.

Still alive. Oh good.
Is this the last one? For real?
Nineteen miles! Damn!

So this is my life.
These are my rad, badass friends.
I'm the luckiest!

Lyric of the moment: "Well you'll only ever really know you're living if you're totally sure you're dying. Maybe we get where we want to go. I don't know....Well if I've got a leg to stand on. Then I'm pretty sure I can work myself up into a run. And I'll keep heading in your direction..." ~Against Me! "12:03"

Friday, March 24, 2017

Saying Yes. Or how I ended up on the radio.

Sometimes The Universe will send you gifts. Wrapped in questions. Like hey, do you want to run at 5am? / or during an epic wind or snowstorm? / or up all the hills? Or hey, do you want to join our radio show? And you have two options. You can get swept away in the rushing cascade of thoughts detailing all the reasons you are in no way prepared for or capable of doing those things. Or you can let your excitement be your guide, say yes! and jump on in.

Confession: I've never been "ready" for anything I've done. I've never felt that oh yeah, I've got this, 100%, piece of cake feeling. Other than towards an actual piece of cake. But, and this is the important bit, that has rarely stopped me from doing things anyway. So when say, I hear about a 40 mile race in Letchworth or this tall guy on top of a volcano asks me to marry him or Chris asks if I want to talk about running on the radio, my first thought is an excited yes! followed inevitably by my second thought, oh shit, I don't have what it takes to do that! Luckily my excitement reflex is faster than my doubt/fear of failing reflex or else I'd miss out on all the best things. Because the truth about awesomeness is that it's not about being "ready,"it's about taking risks, trying new things, pushing past the fear of failing or looking foolish and making the best out of whatever happens. Now I'm not saying screw all preparations, just fly by the seat of your pants! (Though if you have flying pants, that is super cool and sounds like quite a party). By all means, do the work, put in the time and effort. But ignore that voice that says things like "you're not ready, you're not good enough, they're all going to laugh at you." Listening to that jerkface is a one-way ticket to Boringsville, with a layover in Regretown.

So when Chris and Kendra asked me to join their Running Inside Out radio show on WAYO 104.3, I said yes! before they realized their lapse in judgment. And now you can hear us talking about running on Mondays at 6pm on WAYO 104.3 FM or at I don't know what I'm doing and sometimes I say the wrong thing. (And always I start singing Harry Belafonte's Day-o in my head whenever I hear WAYO. You know, the song from Beetlejuice! Day, he say day-ay-ay-o. Daylight come and he wan' go home). But I love it and I'm having a blast. Feel free to bring your ears to this party live or to past episodes online as we run our mouths off about running. Feel free to let us know what topics you want to hear us ramblin' on about. And definitely feel free to tell that mean ol' jerk voice in your head to piss off, 'cause you've got your own adventurin' to do. (Little known (possibly alternative) fact: present participles are just more fun when you end 'em in apostrophe instead of g).

Lyric of the moment: "Now my life is sweet like cinnamon. Like a f*cking dream I'm living in. Cause I'm playing on the radio..." ~Lana Del Ray "Radio"

Wednesday, March 15, 2017

This Is Marriage: Day 556

Confession: While marriage is one of the best things I've experienced, it's also one of the most challenging. It takes a lot of work. Mostly on yourself. Because in marriage, as in life, you will at times suffer disappointments, hurt feelings and conflicts. You will at times be the cause of disappointments, hurt feelings and conflicts (hopefully unintentionally - intentionally causing hurt feelings is not a good way to human). Sometimes you will fail. Sometimes you will make mistakes. Sometimes you will handle these failures and mistakes well, sometimes you will handle them poorly. Sometimes you will wonder who this person even is that you married and conclude that he must have been raised by wolves. Sometimes you will wonder who you even are and why someone would have willingly vowed to spend all the years with you. But you will find a way through all the feelings and conflicts. You will venture into some intense, introspective shit. You will struggle and you will become better for it. And that will make all the difference.

Marriage is awesome. And it's hard. Maybe it's awesome because it's hard, because it pushes you through difficult conversations and uncomfortable feelings towards a better, more gracious and understanding self. It's a perpetual process of trying to be a better life partner today than you were yesterday. Admittedly, this does not come naturally to me. On occasion I have thought it would be easier to live with a house full of bears than with Pete. I assume he has on occasion thought it would be easier to live with a house full of beers than with me. On so many occasions I have thought about filling our house with pet bears. So yeah, I'm not a wellspring of effortless and eternal compassion. But I will keep trying. Because if there's anything worth putting my time and effort into, it's my relationships and figuring out how to be a better person in the world. So I will remind myself that there's no right vs. wrong, there's just us and figuring out how to make life more awesome. That we're imperfect, our marriage is imperfect and that's ok. That it is not in fact a personal affront if someone ate all the peanut butter cups while I was sleeping. I will strive always to be excellent to all and party on.

Lyric of the moment: "Saw the waves but not the tide. I couldn't stay, I don't know why. A sailor married to the sea. My luck is a lost key..." ~Metric "Waves"

Wednesday, March 8, 2017

Inadvertently celebrating National Pancake Day

Yesterday, Mr. Internet told me it was National Pancake Day. On the ride home from eating pancakes at Cartwright's Maple Tree Inn. But the story of this pancake adventure begins days before. Because sometimes adventures don't go as planned. That is to say, they end up even better.

When I came home from my run Sunday morning, Pete and I decided to go on an impromptu pancake pilgrimage to the mecca of maple syrup. Pete used to go to the Maple Tree Inn with his dad and he's been wanting to take me there for a while. Cartwright's is only open from February 14-April 15 each year. Because nothing says Happy Valentine's Day or Happy Tax Day like pancakes, am I right? Or maybe those are just the worst times of the year in New York and we need the promise of pancakes to see us through to spring. So we drove to Angelica, NY only to discover that Sunday morning is the actual worst time to go pancaking. The parking lot was overflowing and both sides of the street were lined with cars all the way down the street to the house with the giant dinosaur in its front yard (Yes, I agree that dinosaurs and pancakes is almost too much awesomeness for one stretch of back-country road. Almost). There was a seemingly interminable line of people waiting outside and neither of us were very interested in joining them. Enter our backup plan: eat at Brian's USA Diner. No pancakes were consumed and sadly, there is no longer a giant bear statue in the yard next to the diner so it was kind of a letdown (And what happened to the bear? Why didn't it end up at my house? So many unsolved mysteries).

We figured a weeknight might be a better time to pancake, so we headed back to Angelica on Tuesday after work. When we arrived, this conversation happened:

Me: I have very high expectations for these pancakes. Why would all those people spend so long standing in line unless these were the best pancakes ever?
Pete: I think you need to lower your expectations.
(walking through the parking lot)
Me: It smells like horses and butts here.
Pete: It smells like purses?
Me: What do purses smell like?
Pete: I don't know, I was going to ask you. Tampons and lipstick?

There was only a short line this time and we were seated within 10 minutes. For $7 you get all you can eat buckwheat pancakes and the most delicious maple syrup I've ever eaten. I would not recommend waiting for hours for these pancakes, but they were good. The maple milkshake however, is legit. Sweet but not sappy, perfectly creamy and cold. Apparently the record of pancakes eaten is 93 (I asked our waitress because it's the obvious question). Pete and I were happy to eat 7 and 3 pancakes respectively, plus 2 eggs for me and 2 eggs, bacon and sausage for Pete. We also bought buckwheat pancake mix and maple syrup to take home with us for future pancaking.

This milkshake brings all the boys to the yard

On the ride back to Rochester, we passed the time laughing over ridiculous conversations like these:

Me: What is something you could never forgive me for doing?
Pete: Cutting off my penis. Shooting the penis.
Me: So like if you came home and the house was full of live baby polar bears, that would be okay because no harm came to your penis?
Pete: Yes, that is true.

(MJ's Thriller plays in the background)
Me:  When we retire, I'm going to wake up one day and say this is the day we learn all the dance moves to Thriller. And then we'll perform it.
Pete: Yeah, definitely.
Me: Do you think there's a resume out there that includes Diabolical laughter at the end of Thriller as a job/skill?
Pete: Of course there is.

Me: If I die during Many On The Genny, will you go back and carry my cremated ashes the rest of the way?
Pete: Yes, honey.

I laugh and know that I am the luckiest. For this life and this marriage where every day is a weird and hilarious adventure.

Lyric of the moment: "Honey comes from honey bees. Maple syrup comes from maple trees. But nothing in this world, none of these, are as sweet as you..." ~Mayer Hawthorne "Out of Pocket"