Life on the Runn...

The last several days have been jam-packed. Between final packing preparations, moving out, and settling into our new temporary digs, we also had an Unti family wedding to enjoy. My cousin Josh and his lovely wife, Nicole, threw an amazing party; it was certainly a tough day, as it was the fourth anniversary of my grandma Unti’s passing, but being with nearly all of the Unti crew (and a few of my Jarvis family members, too) made it easier. It was especially fun to see my Uncle Tom act as the officiant of the ceremony. I have to admit, too, that watching my dad and uncles joke and laugh with (and at) their brother brought a smile to my face. I could just imagine what my grandma would say, and I could so vividly imagine the sound of her laughter (which I know she would have tried her best to stifle...like the rest of us attempted to - we failed). I love watching my parents with their siblings - there are so many glimpses at both untold and often-shared memories; and with my Uncle Pau

June 23 will always be a difficult day. It wasn't supposed to have any great significance for the Unti family, but now it does. They say it’s a day that should get easier, but, even with all this time, it doesn’t. In fact, as a parent now, the pain runs deeper. I mourn for the ‘what could have - what should have - been’ moments, the memories, the chance to do my job - big sister - a little more; but now I also mourn for my parents in a way I only came to truly understand September 7, 2017. June 23 will always be a powerful day. It is a reminder of what the Unti family does have, of the bond we grew through all our shared experiences, even our most difficult goodbyes. My parents always reminded Brian and me to value each other, and I know that Matthew, though not physically with us, cultivated that relationship, one of the most valued ones I have. I know that Brian and I would have fought relentlessly over who was Matthew’s favorite, and I know the boys would have fought abo

Like last year, part of our Father’s Day weekend festivities included some cheering time for our favorite bikers! Brian and our friend Scott again took on the Horribly Hilly ride but decided to up the ante just a bit and tackle the 200k route (a full 120 miles of biking in one day, oh my). Running support was a little easier and a lot more fun this year. First, it was not nearly as hot as last year.  Additionally, our tiny human is now a toddler (tending to an infant and a very warm biker last year was nerve wracking). And finally, HQ could participate in all the fun - she grabbed snacks, mixed water bottles,  and cheered for all the riders - number 407 in particular. I am immensely proud of Brian for setting a goal and working toward it with such dedication. I have always been encouraged and inspired by his ‘go for it’ attitude. It is the reason we’ve seen so many places, have hiked and climbed in some of the coolest destinations, and have taken our tiny person along for the ri

Most days I love my job.  Some days, like each day this past week, I cannot imagine my life without it!  Often times, when I find myself upping the frequency of my weekly runs, it's because I am running from something.  It's my way of coping.  Today, after a six (or sevenths...or eighth...) day of pre-5am running, I realized I was running from the end.  The end of this *school year. Now, don't get me wrong.  This work is raw, exhausting, and often very thankless, but it is relevant and so very inherent to who I am.  And I have found myself truly mourning the loss of this group of students. This year has been a rough one personally, but I have found myself  happily walking into West each day.  I feel better, brighter, and more purposeful in my students' presence. Sure, I love books, and I do enjoy writing (case in point being this blog), but what I really, really love about being an English teacher is watching my students find their voices.  I love building a room