miles


This last weekend I hit a milestone. I have ran more than 3,000 miles in the last (almost) four years. 3,000 miles! I know! That’s like running coast to coast. I blame Kristen, Bill and Kari…especially Kari! Just kidding! Actually I am quite grateful to all of them for the friendship, the inspiration, the support and the whining…them putting up with MY whining. We have logged many miles together and apart but we were always connected and remain so. Running with them virtually and together broadened my circle of friends with Stephanie, Erica, Liz, Beth, Christina, Christine, Kale and so many more awesome people I’m sure I’m forgetting…go ahead and yell at me for forgetting, mmm-kay? But the circle grew even larger as I connected with local folks running like crazy…Linda, Row, Mac, Mike, Erika and Layla. I even reconnected with a high school classmate who I now count as a very, very dear friend thanks to running. Miles and miles of running together and not together connects us all in a way that one can not imagine unless they too are running. Perhaps it’s all those happy, happy endorphins…or maybe we are just a little bit crazy like non-running folk pronounce us to be. Who knows? But we are a close knit community. When one falls or is injured or must stop running we feel their pain and frustration. When one of us PRs we celebrate their amazing feat. We are a close-knit family thanks to all the miles we have all covered.

So when the bombs went off at the finish line of the Boston Marathon we were pained. No, we were struck down, maimed even. Many of us knew people running in Boston…and were following their run in a creepy-cool kind of way thanks to social media and electronic timing chips and we immediately checked to see where were they on the course. We then checked on our running friends who live in Boston but were not running. Sure, Boston is big city but Patriots’ Day and the Boston Marathon are a big, fat deal in their hometown. It’s a day to play and to celebrate. A huge sigh of relief was breathed knowing everyone we knew was okay. Still we felt the pain being broadcast for hours on end on Monday. Once again our country was attacked on a beautiful day by clearly someone or someones who truly have nothing but hate, mayhem and destruction on their agenda. The loss of life was nothing like 9-11…THANK GOD! Still, a life is a life and we can’t help but feel pain for the families of those three beautiful souls. As runners, we looked to who ended up being the victims that day…runners thisclose to the finish line, spectators cheering them on and looking for their own people to cross. Many of these innocents were family of runners- parents, husbands, wives, children, grandchildren, some were likely to be runners too, runners who just crossed the finish line and looking back for a friend who was still on the course somewhere or runners who were not running that day but were there to cheer on other runnersbecause we runners like to do that when we can’t run. And some were just people, random strangers there to cheer on these crazy running people…perhaps at the request of a friend 3,000 miles away from the finish line. They were all joined in the community of running, celebrating, enjoying a beautiful day together. And in an instant it was all blown up…literally. So many were injured, horribly disfigured for god only knows what evil reason. And the running community grieved perhaps as much as Boston has been. Our family was viciously attacked. How could we not grieve?

You see, the thing about us runners is that we are runners. We might not have qualified this year. We may have qualified but did not run. We may have been injured and unable to go. We may have never qualified (and given my granny pace, likely never will). But we are runners and Monday and every day since Monday, our hearts have been in Boston.

And since Monday, this family whom I belong to has united even more tightly. We are determined to reach out and love Boston, to share, to help, to give, to show our solidarity wearing our tech shirts from races past all week long and to run and keep on running…running more and more miles…all for Boston. And as we run, we are healing because those endorphins are epic stuff, yo!

The logistics of races will likely never be the same thanks to the evil that tried to destroy the Boston Marathon, but race we will continue to do. More miles. You just can not stop us from running more miles.

Just as President Obama predicted today I know for sure that “this time next year on the third Monday in April, the world will return to this great American city to run harder than ever and to cheer even louder for the 118th Boston Marathon.

Bet on it.”

that first step, and each step after that


Someone once described the joy and anxiety of parenthood as the equivalent of having your heart outside of your body all the time, walking around. With their very first cry, this most precious, vital part of ourselves — our child — is suddenly exposed to the world, to possible mishap or malice. And every parent knows there is nothing we will not do to shield our children from harm.

And yet, we also know that with that child’s very first step, and each step after that, they are separating from us; that we won’t — that we can’t always be there for them. They’ll suffer sickness and setbacks and broken hearts and disappointments. And we learn that our most important job is to give them what they need to become self-reliant and capable and resilient, ready to face the world without fear.

And we know we can’t do this by ourselves. It comes as a shock at a certain point where you realize, no matter how much you love these kids, you can’t do it by yourself. That this job of keeping our children safe, and teaching them well, is something we can only do together, with the help of friends and neighbors, the help of a community, and the help of a nation. And in that way, we come to realize that we bear a responsibility for every child because we’re counting on everybody else to help look after ours; that we’re all parents; that they’re all our children.

This is our first task — caring for our children. It’s our first job. If we don’t get that right, we don’t get anything right. That’s how, as a society, we will be judged.

~ President Barack Obama speaking December 16,  2012 at the Sandy Hook Memorial ~

Watching Fallon as she bravely takes her very first steps and falling down and getting back up again to triumphantly take two or three more before she falls down again only to stand up again and clap for herself because she is so awesome, I am reminded of what the President spoke of last night about what we all, as parents, feel about our children

…from their first cries in the dark of night that beg for food, a diaper change, or consolation

…to those first wobbly steps coupled with lots of falling down and bruised foreheads

…to when they cross that threshold into school and shoo us away

…to their first sleep-away camp

…their first boyfriend or girlfriend

…then their first broken heart

…the first time they get behind the wheel as (OMG) a licensed driver and drive AWAY in our car

…to the day they move out to strike out on their own

…then become parents themselves

…and on and on because they are forever walking around with our heart all exposed to the world. We just want them to be safe, to not be harmed in any way.

We want to know that they can play at any playground

…go to any school

…attend any service at any place of worship they might choose

…sit in a movie theater

…go shopping anywhere

…do all of these things and more and be safe.

We can’t tolerate this anymore. These tragedies must end. And to end them, we must change. We will be told that the causes of such violence are complex, and that is true. No single law — no set of laws can eliminate evil from the world, or prevent every senseless act of violence in our society.

But that can’t be an excuse for inaction. Surely, we can do better than this. If there is even one step we can take to save another child, or another parent, or another town, from the grief that has visited Tucson, and Aurora, and Oak Creek, and Newtown, and communities from Columbine to Blacksburg before that — then surely we have an obligation to try.

In the coming weeks, I will use whatever power this office holds to engage my fellow citizens — from law enforcement to mental health professionals to parents and educators — in an effort aimed at preventing more tragedies like this. Because what choice do we have? We can’t accept events like this as routine. Are we really prepared to say that we’re powerless in the face of such carnage, that the politics are too hard? Are we prepared to say that such violence visited on our children year after year after year is somehow the price of our freedom?

We can not tolerate nor accept these events as the new normal for our children, not in Newtown, or Happy Valley or Aurora or Stockton or anywhere else. Perhaps Piers Morgan was correct when he said, “This is America’s Dunblane. We banned handguns in Britain after that appalling tragedy. What will the U.S. do? Inaction not an option.” 

I love our Constitution not only for all it says and for what it stands for, but also because it has evolved and changed as time has gone by…as we grew and evolved in our way of thinking…

The Thirteenth Amendment

The Eighteenth Amendment

The Nineteenth Amendment

The Twenty First Amendmentahem, Eighteenth Amendment looking at you.

The Twenty Sixth Amendment

I doubt the authors of our Constitution were imagining semi-automatic assault rifles with magazine clips that could shoot hundreds of rounds in mere minutes when they wrote for the need for our country to have “A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.” No, I do not wish to pry your handguns, shotguns, assault rifles and other weapons of murderous destruction,

erm instruments for hobbies, hunting and personal protection,

from your cold, dead fingers. But I do think we all need to suck it up, grow a pair and ask ourselves what are we going to do about easy access to such murderous weaponry and the lack of easy access to care for those souls who do become so broken, so angry, so out of touch that they do take out the masses including CHILDREN sitting in their classrooms at school? We need to ask our leaders and ask them loudly and often the same thing reminding them of the TWENTY CHILDREN who were brutally murdered shot up to eleven times that awful morning and ask them to grow a pair too and quit cowering in fear from what the NRA might do to them. We need to be bold and to talk about this now, yes even before the first three angels are buried today.

It is appropriate.

It is necessary.

As long as our children are walking around with our hearts all open and exposed it is time…now! Who dares to say that they are not deserving of the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness like the rest of us? They are.

for the heroes


Thinking of what happened at Sandy Hook, because, OMG, even if I turn off the tv and step away from the computer like fake Morgan Freeman says, I can not shut it out of my heart. A dear friend’s family is suffering over the hateful senseless loss of a sweet little boy just days after his 6th birthday, I am thinking of those who without hesitation rushed to protect the children…the principal, the school psychologist, the teachers…all of them who did everything in their power against a deranged individual armed with a Bushmaster AR-15 assault-type rifle and two handguns to protect their students…the children. They rushed that individual and blocked him from the children not unlike the way many of us parents imagine we would do without hesitation to protect our own children, our beautiful children.

Over the years, I was blessed with many great teachers, teachers who genuinely cared about me and tried to help me weather through so much pain and turmoil and keep alive my thirst for learning. Raising my children I have been fortunate to trust so many teachers with my own precious children. All, but perhaps two, truly, truly cared for their students, including my children. God forbid, if such a horrible thing were to happen at my children’s schools I am certain and confident that these men and women would try to protect my children just as I would. There is no question in my mind.

Teachers lately have been much maligned for practically everything. Perhaps it is time that we recognize that for teachers this is so much more than a job, an occupation, a career. They have dedicated their lives, their time, their hearts, even their own money to help teach, guide and inspire the children…our children. Perhaps now, in order to honor the memory of the those who died at Sandy Hook Elementary, we should reach out and thank them…thank our children’s teachers, thank our own teacher, thank all teachers.

In our rushed world, we rarely have an opportunity to show our appreciation for those who spend 6 hours a day with our children. Those who give of their time and brilliant minds to help our own children to stay safe, comfortable, loved and to help them grow.

On Monday, December 17, 2012, take a moment and thank a teacher. Send her an email, a card, a bouquet of flowers. Create a “thank you” bulletin board. Offer to help from home. Make time to volunteer in the classroom.

Take a few minutes in your day and connect with your favorite teacher, or your child’s teacher. It’s simple; just tell him or her “thank you.”

If you work in media, we ask that you join hundreds of bloggers throughout the US in recognizing Thank a Teacher Day 2012, created in loving memory of those who lost their lives in Newtown, CT, and in honor of the hundreds of thousands of teachers who would do that tomorrow for your child.

sending love


Mourning still and feeling helpless…like so many everywhere.

I have begun to take action in my own way all the while holding close my own loved ones. Then the lovely Karen Walrond shared a way to share love and do more. The families of Sandy Hook truly, truly are hurting in a way that is unimaginable. We must reach out to them with our hearts, with our prayers and in any way that we can to honor their beautiful children and heroes who died protecting their beloved students.

If anyone wants to mail sympathy cards or letters of support and solidarity to the school, the school address is: Sandy Hook Elementary School, 12 Dickenson Drive, Sandy Hook, CT 06482. Please copy/paste/share, anywhere you prefer. Prayers and sending a card may seem something small, but at least, it’s something we can do.

Indeed a small gesture, but all great things start out small. This school, this community needs our love more than anything right now. Please share some.

where is the light today


I had already prepared a little light-hearted bit of fluff for my blog featuring a cute, happy, smiling, clapping toddler but coming home from dropping my two youngest children off to school for the day to sad news…horrible news…WTF kind of news I just could not publish it. Not today.

Catherine‘s sweet nephew, Tanner, is no longer able to breathe on his own. Yes Tanner of Tutus for Tanner fame. It just doesn’t seem fair.

Then I turned on the news and…

Yes.

Again.

We could discuss mental illness and guns and Second Amendment rights and what not and my bleeding heart would likely explode. But it doesn’t change the fact that twenty boys and girls…KINDERGARTENERS kissed their mommies and daddies goodbye for the day and skipped off into their classrooms for a day at school…where they should be safe. Instead they laid bloodied and shot alongside teachers and a principal who tried to protect them from such evil, dark insanity.

Such darkness there just did not seem to allow room for light-hearted fluff. How could anyone see it in such darkness?

I could not.

So instead I followed the news of the events unfolding and watched the President choke back tears as he remembered beautiful, little kids between the ages of 5 and 10 years old and he called us all to come together and take meaningful action to prevent more tragedies like this, regardless of the politics.

I went for a 4 mile run hoping to make sense of today’s sadness because I do some of my best thinking when I am running. Unfortunately answers did not come. But the tears did.

I held my breath when I learned that dear Victoria was waiting to hear from family of the whereabouts of her 6 year old nephew, a student at Sandy Hook Elementary. Then I cried bitter, sad tears later when I learned that her nephew, Noah, was one of the victims of today.

Where is the light today?

I waited at Daniel’s school during the afternoon pickup weeping…weeping for Tanner, for Noah and for so much loss today. Then the bell rang and the boys and girls came rushing out of the gate. For them it was the joy of school being out and, hurray, it is the weekend. For the parents waiting it was the joy of being able to hold their babies, hug them and kiss them. There was so much hugging. Again the tears began to roll down my face. Daniel approached the car and I wrapped him into my arms and held on for as long as I could.

“Mom, why are you hugging me so long?”, he asked.

Choking back tears I reply, “Because it has been a very sad day.”

“Well then I need to hug you more, Mom!”, and he did.

And then there was a tiny spark of light in that beautiful boy’s face and his warm hug. Still it was bittersweet as I thought of families today who did not get to hug their children and won’t be any more like I was hugging mine.

We all find ourselves in this cold, dense darkness and we all are desperate for light, any light because even the smallest of light can overpower the darkest of darkness. Those of us with our families near cling to the light that shines from them; and yes, the darkness will be scattered in the brightness of their light, no matter how tiny it might be.

We are blessed people…don’t ever doubt that.

But tonight, while you hug your children, pray for Tanner’s family, pray for Noah’s family, pray for the families of Sandy Hook.

Tomorrow we must take action. We must. The light we are fortunate enough to possess can only chase away this darkness if we stand up with it and move forward. We must. For the children…for our children. Our children deserve the right to feel safe in movie theaters, in shopping centers, in places of worship, in malls and at school and not fear being gunned down.