What was it like for you? Getting bundled up to leave the house after dinner on a Tuesday night, an adventure looming instead of the usual wind-down to bedtime. Sitting in a long line of cars to get into a parking lot. Trotting — no, skipping — alongside me in the cold. The darkness illuminated… Continue reading The Basketball Game
Running gets better as you get older. Not faster or longer, necessarily, but better because you appreciate it more. Movement is movement. Miles are miles. Wherever, whenever, however fast, however often — if running serves you in a way that pleases you, great. Every mile is precious. Every. Single. Mile. Running with a partner or… Continue reading What 2022 Taught Me About Running
Would you care to join me while I sip coffee and reflect on a beautiful, too-brief weekend in Kansas City? Sip. I walked from the plane (with only my backpack for luggage, silver lining to a quick trip without children) into the biggest hug ever from my friend Charity. She was my hostess for the… Continue reading Kansas City Dreamin’
Bagel and coffee,Race number pinned, layers on,Cool autumn morning.Rain, but not too hard.Parking and potties a breeze.Bless smaller races.Bang. No takebacks now!Avoid puddles. Relax. Try.Adrenaline, though.I think I’m relaxed,But the watch says otherwise.Well. Don’t overthink.There! My family!And my heart’s re-energized.One mile at a time.I assure myself,But this body’s not stupid,And sees through it all.Body: “What’s… Continue reading Duke City Marathon
I’m running a marathon on Sunday. I’m running the Duke City Marathon and even after four months of training, it hasn’t really sunk in yet. The last time I was two days out from a marathon, I was a newlywed. We had a puppy. I worked in an office Monday through Friday. Now, here I… Continue reading We Meet Again
Measure out two cups of flour. Add a dash of salt, two-thirds of a cup of butter or shortening, and five to seven tablespoons of cold water. Mix it all together until it forms a ball. Wrap it in plastic wrap and refrigerate it until it’s time to roll that ball out into a double… Continue reading Staying Low
I would bake you a pie crust assembled with love and lots of butter.Just the crust, golden and flaky and welcoming, open to you and everything you’re feeling.I would cook you a pot of macaroni and cheese for dinner. Just that. No broccoli or forced protein.I would read out loud to you some of my… Continue reading If You Were Here
You start early,When misty clouds shroud still-slumbering mountainsAnd dewy dawn air beads weightlessly on your skin.You leave Red River,Passing the stables on your right and the gas pumps on your left,And begin the climb,Winding up the road that remained unpaved until the latter half of the 20th century.A doe, then another, emerges from the trees,… Continue reading Over the Pass
I was 22, and wanted to qualify for Boston. I picked New Orleans — at the time, it was the Mardi Gras Marathon — because I liked the city and because I figured the course would be fast and flat. I didn’t fuel with anything but water during those long runs. I didn’t know any… Continue reading The First One
The phone sings out: it’s time to rise and shine!Or at the very least, get out of bed,And try to tell my legs that they’ll be fine —With this run, maybe we’ll get gold from lead.I tell myself, These miles, they aren’t so bad.The build-up seems quite practical and smart.And hunger, fatigue, mood swings? I’m… Continue reading Ode to Marathon Training
It’s a leap of faith, isn’t it?Every time you angle your feet into a pair of running shoes and tie those laces,The run could breeze by so that you blink your eyes and wonder where the last 40 minutes went.Or it could feel like you’re wearing lead boots, like gravity, your thoughts, your very breath… Continue reading Leaps of Faith
It’s a 2007 Toyota Tundra.Black paint, sun-cured to the hue of a veteran chalkboard,Long scratches etched by untold numbers of scrub oak and conifer branches —- love scars of hunting seasons past.The tailgate demands both muscle and agility to open and close.The driver’s inner door handle occasionally decides to detach.The interior’s patina of dog fur,… Continue reading The Truck
The mountains, drowsily waking under a coverlet of dawn clouds, note the woman without much interest.She moves along an asphalt belt at their foot, Faster than a glacier but slower than the loping mountain lion or bounding mule deer that dwell furtively on these slopes.The mountains, warming under the rising sun on their eastern flanks,… Continue reading Sandia
Shall I compare thee to a punishment?Thou art as pleasant, and as sweet to take.Thy stubbornness, so inconvenient,Makes restless toddlers seem a piece of cake.When first I stepped into this bathroom stall,My hopes were high, my children, well-behaved.Alas! My aspirations hit a wall.For patience and agility I prayed.The fabric squelching, cups adrift, I triedTo balance… Continue reading Ode to a Wet Swimsuit
Resting on a stool in a wineryHere, in my happy place,Red River, New Mexico,Where Main Street (NM 38) is one mile long,Or so Coach Garmin informed me on my run this morning.This room is warm and colorful and cozy, with oryx and elk mounts on the wall, and live funky jazz wafting in through the… Continue reading Red River
It wasn’t your turn,But you declined to wait.Rather than perch on the pool’s edge, pearly toddler skin glistening with water, hair plastered to your head, grin plastered to your face, watching your sister splash in my arms,You chose: kerplash!The simple expedient method of shimmy-scoot-hopping yourself into the cool blue,And kerplash! (Thank God for floatie vests)… Continue reading Someone Special
After more than two months dry,There it is, as shimmery and surreal as a mirage:40% chance of showers.The stirrings begin early in the afternoon:The sparrows flit and chitter more erratically than usual, like a family calling sharply to each other across their home while preparing to evacuate.The wind puffs and prowls like a dog who… Continue reading Waiting for Rain
It’s the middle of the year (okay, close enough) and so, to avoid letting 2022 bustle by without a pause, I’m pausing right now. What to do with this pause? A little gratitude’s always good, right? And the nice thing is, when I stop to think of all the things I’m thankful for, the list… Continue reading Gratitude Check
People will assure you, with confidence, that the women’s rights movement has accomplished all that it set out to accomplish. Don’t believe them for an instant. People will advise you, directly or indirectly, that you should minimize yourself. That you should not advertise your accomplishments. That it’s really best if you just stay out of… Continue reading To The Girls
Protect your bow, he tells her as they walk towards the shooting line, her four-and-a-half-year-old stride not quite matching his grown-up one. But it will happen in time, sure for certain. Those hands that hold that miniature bow — traditional, we’re talking, not compound; at some point it was settled that we are a traditional… Continue reading The Archery Lesson
A roadrunner sprinted across the foot of the driveway, lunging the whole time for an unseen finish line,Under the languid rippling of mimosa branches that looked almost tropical with sun-glutted leaves and flirty fuchsia flowers…And that’s enough of that.Today was hard.The older one began the day with a fever and the younger one ended the… Continue reading One Day Last Month
The other day, I asked my four-year-old what made her happy. She promptly replied, “Shorts.” That wasn’t the answer I was expecting, but it made me smile, then laugh. I knew exactly what she meant. Shorts aren’t just an article of clothing, they’re a whole mentality. Shorts mean relaxation. They mean freedom. They mean movement.… Continue reading The Shorts Mentality
Ours is an everyday sort of loveFor now. For now, no trips to Disneyland, no high-profile camps, no particularly deep conversations. I rinse strawberries, heart-shaped, immodestly, splendidly red.I slice quickly through their pulpy flesh,Such a simple thing, hardly requiring effort or thought.I slide the plate between the two of you and in no time it’s… Continue reading Strawberries
I considered skipping the early-morning run, or at least deferring it to give my legs an extra hour of respite. It was Sunday, after all — no need to hustle out and back, no need to pay much heed to the kids’ wake-ups or the husband’s work schedule. But no, I felt a nudge, a… Continue reading Flower Moon
Reaching heavenward,she revels in her power.Seeing her, some are awestruck, some terrified; few can look away, spellbound.Her light and warmth she has no interest in containing.Subtle messages long forsaken, she can only roar.Not in turmoil, she is turmoil itself,collapsing in a smoldering heap here, exploding in a startling burst there.Efforts to extinguish her towering energy… Continue reading Wildfire
What don’t we see under the surface?Beneath the top soil, exposed to the elements, deceptively crumbly and transient,Teems, I suspect, a world devoid of light but replete with life: a miracle.Brand-new roots hungry, relentless in their singular purpose: growth.Plunging down, groping outward with tendrils fragile yet vitalSeeking nourishment that we outsiders take for granted with… Continue reading Under the Surface
There’s a mimosa tree in our front yard that habitually takes a little longer to reawaken in the spring. Neighboring pears, plums, lilacs, and cottonwoods proudly produce buds in early April — precocious, eager things. The buds morph delicately, divinely into blossoms, accompanied by leaves whose green is birdsong in color. The mimosa, by contrast,… Continue reading Mimosa Tree
Ahem, says the moon through the screen of the bathroom window,As though she has just learned a new twirl and needs to show me immediately.Still hazy-brained from sleep, I peer up and out and concede that yes, it’s a delightful new twirl, yes, Madame Full Moon does look particularly full and lustrous as the night… Continue reading Full Moon, Fresh Legs
If I say, “I’m fine, thanks! How are you?” it means I broke down crying in the middle of dusting but kept dusting.If I say, “Doin’ okay!” it means I got so frustrated over my toddler refusing to eat her vegetables that I stalked out of the kitchen to my bedroom, where I slammed the… Continue reading Translations
If we lived close enough, we’d walk. It’s a serene neighborhood with wide, welcoming streets and lots of whimsically-painted mailboxes. It has trees, big trees, and not just pines and cottonwoods. This in itself would make the place special. We scramble up a grass-blanketed hillside, and before us lies a choice: playground, or path, or… Continue reading Good Park
There’s a pocket in every race, maybe half a mile in shorter races and two or three miles in longer ones, when the race is simply work. The adrenaline of the start has subsided, the tension of weaving and staking a place in the pack has eased, but the infamous Wall has not yet become… Continue reading Albuquerque Half Marathon: Sent & Spent
Why?Why does a 40-year-old, 162-pound woman care?Care about running fast, running far, setting goals, pushing her body that has already absorbed a healthy amount of miles and trials?I could deflect. I could laugh it off, I could reasonably tilt my head towards the four-year-old, the two-year-old, the marriage, the dog, the mental health, the house… Continue reading Mirror, Mirror
The custard slouches beautifully,shrugging off the crust as a suggestion, not a rule.It’s just the right thickness, as if to say, “I am satin and sugar but also substance, understand?”The “smoochie kisses,” as my daughters call them, tumble as they will.The crust, a form-follows-function sort, does its job with integrity.I’m pleased with this pie.I press… Continue reading Custard Pie
People associate emotional healing with bad experiences. It turns out, though, that the positives can require recovery, too. The accomplishment of something enormous, or the overwhelming relief and gratitude of a spiritual tank refill — not just a pitcher, a TANK — are like beautiful, indelible tattoos. The experience initially brings excitement, joy, but then:… Continue reading The Fifth Day
Last Sunday at sunrise I stood in the shadow of downtown high-rises, clapping my hands to keep warm. Motivational music pumped from loudspeakers, and other runners milled, bounced, and stretched around me. We were like a bunch of protons, vibrating non-stop. Or electrons? Who cares? We were there, I was there, to run a HALF… Continue reading Duke City Half Marathon
While my achy post-10k legs are propped up and the kids are down for quiet time, here are my thoughts: Just because I’m not overtraining in my running doesn’t mean I’m not overtraining. Virtual races are wonderful, and sometimes necessary. But there’s nothing like the people, the energy, shoot, even the Porta-Potty lines of an… Continue reading 16 Things I’m Learning About Racing As A Mom
The other morning my 3-year-old was helping me make breakfast. She rapped an egg on the counter, but instead of producing the desired crack in the shell, the egg went splat. Whoopsie. I said “Caroline” with thinly veiled annoyance, then stopped myself. Yes, the small mess required clean-up, but the child is brand-new to kitcheneering… Continue reading Cracked Eggs
This morning I stagger out of bed, drag on the running clothes that were stashed under the bathroom sink, let the dog out, shoo her back in, and make my way from the back door (it’s quieter that way) around to the front of the house. Some mornings the 15 minutes it takes to get… Continue reading The Work
Grain silosMonumental, immovable, concrete patron saints,Anchors of the horizonEqualed only by the anchors in the depths of the harbor.Your waters, bearing canoes, tug boats, Navy ships, freighters;Your earth, bearing steel, iron, the sweat of freshly-forged Americans undaunted by a little toil;Your air, bearing industrial dust, grainy grit, the warm aroma of cereal, at once hard… Continue reading Buffalo
I’m turning 40 this week. If that doesn’t merit a pause, I don’t know what does, so I’m going to stay right here for a moment to assess and aspire. First: assess. A Handful of Things I’ve Learned in 40 Years: It’s okay to not always be a fast learner. Sometimes you learn a lesson… Continue reading Mile Marker 40
In the middle of a family adventure,I turn and see a hill —-No Everest, but steep and rocky and in that wide-open sprawl of desert, appreciable.My heart full from playing in the dirt but lacking a suitable outlet,I have to run up that hill.I have to. And it’s good.But then you. You say, “Can I… Continue reading Because It’s There
Because sometimes you just feel like it. Sometimes you just feel like making a chocolate cake on a Thursday afternoon. Sometimes you just feel like accelerating up a hill during an otherwise mundane run. Or dancing to loud music in your kitchen at 8 am. Or getting a tattoo. Sometimes you just feel like it.… Continue reading Feeling Like It
Yesterday we planted seeds, my 3-year-old and I. We planted them in whiskey barrels whose soil has, shall we say, “rested” for a couple of years now. It was time for a revival. First we tilled the soil, she with a Pioneer Woman cake server, me with the nail-prying side of a hammer because, you… Continue reading An April Morning
Walking across a boardwalk stile from pavement to sand,the first thing to react is your pace,down-shifting from purposeful stride to unhurried flip-flop shuffle, white grains sugary on your feet.It’s hard to be in a rush at the beach.You breathe in, deep, you breathe in fathoms, and it’s there, the scent of brine and Banana Boat… Continue reading Destin
Okay, so you only napped for an hourAnd I didn’t get to watch as much “Grey’s Anatomy” as I wanted.I heave a sigh and roll my eyesBut then those eyes slide toward the windowAnd I smile in spite of myself Because it’s springtime!And the afternoon winds haven’t fully descended yet!And I opted to rest instead… Continue reading Run, Unexpected
We planted a tree on the first day of spring, a dwarf spruce. Hardly a complicated act, once we got past deciding where exactly in the backyard it would go, but it felt good. It felt good to do something, concretely, physically do something, so optimistic. Kind of like signing up for a future race… Continue reading Planting
If I close my eyes and inhale, I can smell the mud, brackish, there even when the sun’s been beaming through the trees for days. If I try, I can look down and see the decades-old path, cracked, surrendering time and again to the upheaval of tree roots. I can see the steep hills, even… Continue reading Accotink
I pad barefoot into the studio, the heat enfolding me immediately, noticeable but not oppressive. I fiddle with the placement of my mat, then my towel, then my water bottle. I’ve plopped, imagining myself graceful, in the back row near the door — that strategy I do remember. It’s been four years. The last time… Continue reading Back to the Mat
This time of year, the mercury too is working on its fitness,Rising but unable to push beyond a temperature that happens to be perfect. So we go outsideMy hair damp from a luxurious mid-day shower,My legs still effervescent-veined from their run,My daughters aglow with anticipation and sunscreen,My husband cheerful.I sit on the curb and watch… Continue reading Take Your Time
Running Sunflower 
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