On Saturday, May 6, I returned to half marathon racing. It had been quite a hiatus, and my previous half marathon, was completed with a blown out IT band, so I did have to balance high hopes and realistic expectations. After all, a lot has changed since that last race. They say that age is just a number, and by that logic, a half marathon is just miles. 13.1 long and hilly miles in this case, and now officially in the next decade of my life. Yeah, yeah, just a number. Last year, still in my 30s, I toyed with the idea of returning to racing and with running the Door County Half Marathon. We were in Peninsula State Park for our annual Mother’s Day weekend, and the race was taking place. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to get back to some really good training. Our plan - always - is to be in Door County for our Mother’s Day celebration, so why not sign up?! Well, back to numbers. Two children, one partner, too many hours at work each week, one bike ride/race to each weekend, an...
A few weeks ago I began physical therapy. My ankle has been slowly improving; the same did not hold true for my attitude early last week. My therapist asked me to do this specific exercise where I had to focus on the position of my knees, ankles and hips all at the same time; additionally, I had to do two other movements. Because my ankle is weak and because I struggled to keep every instruction clear in my mind while ignoring the discomfort I was feeling, I couldn't do what he was asking. Believe me, I was trying. My frustration was growing, and I know my therapist was becoming annoyed with me. He kept barking instructions, and I kept thinking I better keep it together or I might just yell/cry right on the spot. I nearly had a rage blackout when he told me that since I wasn't doing it right, I should simply try a few more sets of 10. Realizing how negative I was, I figured there must be something to learn from this horrid moment. And he...
This past weekend, we celebrated my dad’s 30 years of service to and retirement from the Mukwonago Fire Department. As both a volunteer fire fighter and EMT, he has spent several decades in service of others. During what surely was one of their most trying times, it was my dad who was with people he’d never met and likely wouldn’t see again. To do that on top investing in full-time work, his family, and his other interests is simply remarkable. And that’s my dad: a driven, generous, passionate man. The Mukwonago Fire Department was a part of my youth. The men and women he served with became my dad’s second family, and thus they were there for many of my milestones. My weekends were were filled with various events hosted by MFD, including community events and that one family picnics that ended with Dad getting stitches. Sometimes my weekends - and weeknights - were also filled with quick goodbyes as another call pulled Dad away from our family plans. The sound of his pager and the ...
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