The day I became a mom

Devon Andrew VaughanMiller, the one who bestowed upon me the honored title of "Mom" on this day 24 years ago.
The fella whose presence brings a light within me that glows from the tips of my toes to the frizzes of my hair.
The first of the VaughanMillers and who welcomed his little brother, the second VaughanMiller, as his new, and life-long, best friend.
The little tyke who would strike up a conversation with anybody about anything because he just so loved the new and different.
The young man who said this a week before my run to Michigan was to begin: "I believe in you, mom. You can somehow always believe in me, especially when I don't, now it is my turn to push you. ... You can do this. I know it, because you're a Vaughan, and, more importantly, my mom!"

Well, Devon, I have always and will always believe in you. You have a heart of gold and a soul of sunshine. Spread it 'round the world this new year!

Happy Birthday Devon!

Daydreaming on the run

Of vistas and daydreams on the run - January 21, 2009

Today's run was a basic commute to and from my volunteer job. The trip in before the sun was up was quite dark. Have you ever noticed that some days dark is really really dark? Well, today was one of those days, so rather than run the unlit bike paths, I moved over to the roads. Then I got tired of the cars (funny how they hang around roads) so I zigzagged into and through a neighborhood that wasn't quite as dark as the bike paths and not quite as busy as some roads. With the quiet, came a peacefulness that encouraged daydreaming. 'Twas a good morning for daydreaming. We have a new president, a president whom I believe is truly for the people, by the people, and of the people. Now it is time for us people to take some our dreams, work with our president, and do!

Running back home after volunteering, I stayed with the bike paths and trails. Both the vista and the quiet were soothing and again fostered daydreams. I've just started corresponding with a running acquaintance who is interested in a long run, specifically a north/south run along the east coast of the US...currently envisioned as a Maine-to-Miami run. We would do it in segments, beginning in 2010 and finishing in 2012 - the year we both turn 60. As I trotted towards home, along a trail through a field, I heard crackling noises - and realized I was hearing the ground awaken. Our third consecutive balmy day was bringing out insects and sprouts and who knows what all else. It is for those moments, the moments of being able to hear the earth burst forth with life, that makes me think that the daydream of another long run should become reality.

New quote

I read this bumper sticker quote on a listserv I belong to. It makes me feel even more comfortable in my non-conformist mind and body!

Don't worry, the rest of the world has "normal" covered.

A good reminder that I should just keep on cruising down my own pjv path!

A new goal!

Fiddle wood carving seen on the run in Boulder

The National Western Stock Show is in full swing in Denver. It's quite the event: lots of cows, chickens, rabbits, rodeo-ing, dog running, artwork, cowboy hats, boots, belt buckles...you name it... If it's American West, it's there.

I hadn't been to the show since our boys were little but went this year for a whole new thing for me: the Colorado Fiddle Championships. It was fantastic - fiddlers from 8 to 80+; all mighty fine.

My new goal? To participate in the 2013 Fiddle Championships (when I'm 60). Maybe, just maybe, if I practice every day from now until then, I'll actually be good enough to compete. We shall see!

Quiet

Minnesota - corn, soybeans and sky for as far as the eye can see...

I just finished editing the third part of the four-part series that I'm writing for Marathon & Beyond about my run to Petoskey. In this installment, I do a lot of tallying. One of the tallies that I included was "15 minutes" without being passed by a car on one of the county roads we traveled in Minnesota. My oh my how precious that quiet time is.

Being retired, I don't live a particularly hectic life these days. However, today started with an icy run to exercise class where a gaggle of sweating folks contorted for an hour with boisterous music, followed by an hour's run in howling winds over slightly less icy but car-filled roads that took me back home. There I had a quick shower, an equally quick lunch, then worked a few hours on my M&B story. After submitting the story, it was e-mail perusal time where I found a message from the professor for the class I just started taking. Holy toledo! I have homework! Due tomorrow! So next up: make some dinner and read read read.

In the midst of the upcoming months filled with running, my Monday/Wednesday/Friday a.m. volunteer job, Monday/Wednesday/Friday p.m. linguistics class, Tuesday/Thursday exercise class, and Tuesday fiddle class I need to sit down with trail info and road maps and figure out a 200-300 mile stretch of peaceful running for a mini-summer sojourn. It's long overdue.

...oh, and one funny farm

Fresh powder

Predawn run along snowy Boulder Creek trail

When I run to my morning volunteer job at this time of year, it's still dark out. However, today it was dark on top and white on the bottom; we were in the midst of a gentle but thick snowstorm. As I left our driveway, the only tracks to be seen in the snow-covered street were those of my husband and dog (they had left for their walk about 15 minutes ahead of me); by now their tracks were barely discernible due to the fast-falling snow. When our paths crossed (he was looping back home as I continued east) I was startled by Kendall's appearance: snow-crusted cap, glasses, beard & jacket. (In fact, he said he had been worried about heading out in the dark wearing a charcoal gray jacket. No need to worry long, he was now sporting a frosty white jacket - quite visible in the darkness.) I didn't think I looked quite as frosty so I asked him which way the wind was blowing; yep - he was headed into it and I had it at my back. Lucky me!

After parting ways, I trotted off down a different bike path where there were no tracks to be seen. It was just me and a clean blanket of snow. About 45 minutes into the run, the morning's weather added some new entertainment features: snowballs were accumulating at the tops of my shoes/bottoms of my tights; mini-avalanches were cascading off my hat; the collar of my jacket was crackling in my ear...probably frozen. Nonetheless, there's nothing quite like being the runner who gets to lay the first track in an early morning snow fall!

p.s. to Paul if you're reading this: I tried to take a picture just for you of a tumbleweed I spotted sticking out of the new snow...too darned dark...you lucked out ;-)

2008 Restrospective

2008 was a potpourri of bumps, glides, hiccups, and yodels.

From a running perspective, there were certainly more hiccups than yodels. It looks like total miles logged will be about 2376 - a far cry from last year's 4,233. There were many days off, many less-than-planned weekly totals, few extra long runs - all for a variety of reasons ranging from falling on my tailbone to caring for a sick mom. But I was still able to get out, feel crisp cool air against my face, lope along the beach, scramble over rocks, dodge cow pies... What's a mileage total when you've got that kind of freedom at your toetips?

And in the grand scheme of things, it was a mighty fine year. My mom recovered from her sickness, my husband still makes me smile, my sons still like to come home to visit, and my dog still wags his tail whenever he sees me.

This is what makes the year shine!

Jester, Paul & Devon, December 2008

Holiday delights

This Christmas, our greatest delight has been having both of our sons home:
Paul just back from a trip to China where he taught English at Anhui Normal University and Devon who was able to squeeze together a few days off work and a train trip from Illinois to Colorado. It's Devon's first visit back to Boulder since last Christmas. Our house definitely feels more like home when the brothers are prancing about!



Our Boulder Colorado weather has been just wintry enough to make it feel like Christmas...especially when Mister Kendall is willing to don his boots and ho! ho! ho! his way out through the snowbanks to the morning newspaper in his nightshirt. Neighbors beware!






And, as an added delight, the January/February issue of "Marathon & Beyond" arrived in my mailbox Christmas eve sporting the first of my four-part series about my run to Michigan. Happy holidays indeed!

Baking Bonanza

Wintry weather blasted into Boulder this weekend. Perfect weather and perfect timing for turning on the oven, turning up the carols, breaking out the Baileys, and invoking my mother's cookie baking gene.

Many dozens of ginger cookies, magic cookie bars, pecan angel slices, date nut pinwheels, maple pecan butter cookies, buckeyes, chocolate & peppermint-studded dream cookies and Seydel date bars later and our Christmas cookie supply is shaping up nicely. Bunches will go in the mail tomorrow and bunches more will be awaiting the arrival of our boys...home from China and Galesburg. Holiday excitement mounts!

Ankle biting road junk

Some junk you find along the road can be fun - like all the junk I found along the road during a couple of days in Nebraska that I turned into this mobile for AndyE:
However, today I had a first-hand (first-foot?) encounter with road junk that I wouldn't quite refer to as "fun" - (fun sure wasn't the first word that flew out of my mouth at the time of the encounter). I was running along, saw that the light at the intersection ahead was about to turn green so I picked up the pace and began to fly! Unfortunately, I wasn't flying because of my supersonic speed...no... I was flying because, apparently, my left foot had just stepped on a wire hoop, causing it to raise up, where it caught my right foot in mid-stride. So "fly" was immediately followed by "crash" then "slide." Ouch! My knees and elbows now sport some lovely scrapes and egg-sized bumps - but, worst of all, the spanky smart wool gloves that I won at a race got a hole ripped in the palm. Rats!

Beware the road-side traps!