...and the divorce is moving right along.  What awful words to write.  Thanks to all of you who have expressed concern since my last posting.  It has been nearly two months since everything hit the fan, sadly only one week after Malcolm & I returned from our honeymoon trip to England.  It is still incredibly hard to come to grips with how much has happened since that time and the emotions are overwhelming at times.  Each new day brings its own unique set of challenges, most tipped with  bittersweet memories that come flying out of nowhere.

Even if our friendship itself - and then our eventual plans to marry - had not already raised enough eyebrows and made plenty of tongues wag (mostly because of the difference in our ages and running experience...think: "Now I wonder why she would be interested in HIM??" and "Oh, I can see why he's coaching HER" *wink* *wink*  ), it would be bad enough to share that we are already going through a divorce so soon after most people just heard that we are engaged.  But to top it all off, it seems as though the entire world heard (or watched on T.V.) the news about our marathon finish line engagement, and it is a nightmare never knowing when we're going to run into some innocent person gushing congratulations in the grocery store - or just WHEREVER (that's the worst; it always creeps up on you when you're having a good moment or least expect to be reminded of the tragic loss by seeing someone you know).  It's like being traumatized over and over and over again.  Add to that, feeling like a liar if I don't tell them at least SOMETHING to set the records straight, and trying to articulate something honest in a way that both preserves Malcolm's privacy and my own dignity - all while I feel like something is caught in my throat, my belly is doing flip-flops, and I'm trying not to start crying again.

It is really hard trying to deal with such public fallout, but even more so while we're still struggling with the very personal emotions that accompany a divorce in the first place.  I know that I need to tune out the gossipers and that it doesn't matter what others think, but that is easier said than done in my current emotional state.  I'm still heartbroken over what happened, concerned that Malcolm gets the help that he needs, and angry both about our relationship being judged as well as about us being treated as a big joke by people who can't possibly understand and don't have any right whatsoever to know the details even if they COULD "get it."  This is no joke.  Maybe it would be more entertaining if I were just some dumb and impulsive star-struck elite runner groupie - or if Malcolm were just some arrogant athlete seeking to prey on a young lady's dream of love and family while adding yet another "trophy" to his collection . . . but how things might appear on the surface is not a very accurate reflection of the reality "behind the scenes" in this case - not even close.  These are our LIVES we're talking about here, not some silly Hollywood publicity stunt.

I don't want to say too much with regard to specifics here (or anywhere else, for that matter), but the truth is this:  Malcolm is no better than the best of us - and no worse than the rest of us.  He is simply a sinner who has hurt me tremendously - AND he is also just as deserving of forgiveness as anyone else.  However, forgiveness does not necessarily imply that there are no consequences for actions.  One of those consequences is that I can no longer walk beside Malcolm as his wife.  We'll see about salvaging some sort of "friendship" from the wreckage (we still have mutual respect and personalities that mesh well), but I suspect that trying to return to how things once were (or at least how I thought  they were), may ultimately prove too difficult as either one of us tries to "move on" (neither of us dating for AWHILE though - you can count on that ).  While it might be true that with God all things are possible, these issues run so deep and the dishonesty turned out to be so frequent - so repetitive - that a marital miracle is NOT probable at all.  Whatever God wants to do with each of us through this is beyond me, but I have to believe that He doesn't waste a hurt and I can already see some good things coming out of the pain, mostly lessons being learned and things being exposed/brought to light so that individual healing can finally occur.  Maybe what we needed was a "wake-up call" that ripped us apart, so that He could sew us back together as the people He created us to be.  Malcolm himself recently expressed that the words of this song (below) by Hoobastank hits our proverbial nail on the head pretty darned well right now, and I'll agree . . .

To his credit, Malcolm has spent the time getting to know me quite well (I have trusted him with everything...my past, present, and dreams for the future) and he also seems to understand why I cannot even consider being his wife now.  Even so, he still does want to maintain something of our friendship.  Time will tell Malcolm's true intentions . . . and regardless of whether or not those intentions ARE good, it will be a long road of recovery ahead, with no guarantees along his way.  I simply cannot give Malcolm my heart as his wife anymore because (regardless of any alleged "good intentions") I feel that to do so would be like giving a pair of scissors to a very well-meaning but blindfolded toddler - and then hoping that somehow he will handle them "responsibly," avoiding injury to himself or anyone else.  It is foolish to trust others unless they are first proven trustWORTHY.  I guess that sometimes we all play the fool . . .

Lately, I have been thinking about some of the Biblical characters - about how things seemed to be going all wrong for them and they asked, "WHY??"  I see in those stories that we have a very limited perspective while we are going through intense pain.  God's ways are not our ways and His thoughts are not our thoughts.  He is more concerned with our building our character than with our comfort levels.  Job rattled off at the mouth for chapters and I bet that no one listening here on earth would have really blamed him considering his recent afflictions.  But when Job finally took a breath and God tossed back his own schpeel of rhetorical questions ("Where where YOU when I made X,Y,Z..???" etc.), Job's response was a very appropriate SILENCE out of reverence as it suddenly dawned on him that - OH YEAH . . . I'm NOT God and I can't possibly understand what He in his great wisdom is orchestrating in the big scheme of His worldwide master plan at this very moment in time.  I didn't help Him fashion the universe and so He probably doesn't need my advice on how He should be running it!  Our understanding is limited; God's wisdom is infinite.  Heck, even Moses wandered around for YEARS in the wilderness, wondering "WHY??". . . and little did Moses know that this was the same wilderness with which he would need to be familiar in order to lead God's people out of slavery in Egypt someday.  I think about Paul in prison, learning this valuable lesson when all of his worldly freedoms were taken away - and through no apparent fault of his own:  "...I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.  I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want." - Philippians 4:11-12   I see Joseph being sold into slavery - by his very own family - and then being elevated to a leader . . . from the pit to the pinnacle.  When all was said and done, Joseph clearly harbored no bitterness in his heart (not that he didn't have his moments during his slavery, I'm sure; he was human after all), for when given the opportunity to take revenge upon the brothers who betrayed him, Joseph looked upon them with deep compassion and an apparent mercy that can only be born out of recognition that Joseph himself had within his being the exact same propensity toward sinfulness and evil to which they had succumbed.  In essence, Joseph was united with his brothers in common weakness as a fellow (but forgiven) sinner.  So who was HE to judge, even in spite of the horrific consequences he had endured for THEIR sins?  Figuratively speaking, Joseph must have first looked at HIMSELF in the mirror, for his merciful declaration bore the hallmark of a supernaturally imposed grace and forgiveness:  "Don't be afraid.  Am I in the place of God?  You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.  So then, don't be afraid.  I will provide for you and your children.  And he reassured them and spoke kindly to them."  - Genesis 50:19-21   I am also reminded of Jesus in Gethsemane, waiting to be arrested and knowing that he would soon undergo the agony of crucifixion.  Even after sweating literal drops of blood (by the way, said to be a documented physiological occurrence at times of extreme emotional strain and anxiety/fear), Jesus responded in faithful prayer: "My Father, if it is possible for this cup to be taken away..."  but then he surrenders, "...may your will be done." - Matthew 26:42

I have been praying so much during these past few weeks and have returned repeatedly to the comfort of this solitary truth: We cannot control our circumstances all of the time, but what we CAN control our responses to them.  Will we turn toward God - or run the other way??  It depends on whether or not we truly believe His promises:  "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." -Jeremiah 29:11  The choice is ours - and so are the consequences.  Trials and tests will come.  We were never promised that they wouldn't.  As Christians, however, God did promise that he would be WITH US through the refining fires - and that He would give us what we needed to make it through....not what we WANT per se, but what we truly NEED.  His grace is sufficient - and HIS strength is made perfect in our weakness. . . Nevertheless, before we can truly embrace this empowering truth, we must first die to self.  That is, we must die to our own selfish dreams and desires.  Jesus said, "Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." - Matthew 10:38-40  We are asked only to stay alert, to ask for guidance/discernment, and to gracefully surrender that which we have lost - or maybe never had in the first place. . . As long as we are keeping our eyes wide open and seeing what is really there - rather than what we WISH were true - I have to believe that everything will fall into place for both of us as it truly should sooner or later - IF we are each seeking God's will and not our own.

Although I have faith, it remains quite difficult for me personally to WAIT on GOD'S timing.  Being patient is not my forte.  Even so, I am struggling so much with accepting our situation and pending divorce (not the decision to divorce per see, but the inevitable effects of that process) because we DID take things slowly (I heeded the warnings and hardly dated at all for nearly two years since leaving my ex-husband) and I DID prayerfully seek God's will about whether or not to marry Malcolm.  I took it so seriously - even more cautiously than my first decision to marry - precisely (and ironically) because I feared making a bad decision and someday having to go through the hell of yet another divorce again.  I even took steps to seek reassurance from solid Christians who had earned my trust over time, all of whom had spent time with Malcolm and I, saw the beauty in our relationship together - saw how we would just light up around each other - and gave us the "green light."  Either I somehow didn't hear God correctly, or maybe I DID and His ends will justify His means (this painful break) somehow???  I really don't have the answers - just a lot of questions. . .

I am grateful that I am not all alone trying to wrestle with my questions right now.  Some of my most encouraging and wise Christian counsel has come from the attorney who very gently stepped me through the last divorce.  When I called and told him what was going on - only one week after it blew up in my face - he immediately offered his legal services free of charge and also prayed with a very emotional me right in the middle of Panera.  The guy has a knack for showing up whenever I'm at my very worst and I don't think that he has ever even seen me when I'm NOT in the midst of a life crisis.  I'm surprised that he doesn't seem to think I'm a complete loon by now.    I'm also grateful for pastoral advice that I've been receiving and a Christian psychologist who is intervening for both Malcolm and I - and who seems to know his stuff.  My "real" friends who have offered to help me in any way possible (although usually all I need is just someone to listen) and some (as it turns out) strategically positioned coworkers who truly understand (often from their own life experience) are also such blessings during times like these.

When a crisis hits, the truth about what you have - or have NOT - been sowing into the spiritual life is exposed.  You know, in some circumstances, the whole world wouldn't blame you for whining, pointing an angry finger at God, and walking around in a self-absorbed huff.  When in the midst of such a situation, the Christian decides to turn TOWARD God in faith, I believe that God bestows supernatural strength and mercy to deal with others as kindly and as graciously as He has dealt with with us over the course of our lifetimes (when WE didn't "deserve it" either).  It is then that God is glorified and put in his proper place - one of respect, gratitude, awe, and devotion.  I have known for years that God loves to work through cracked vessels and dang it, am I one CRACKED cookie right now.    So is Malcolm, at least from what I can tell so far.  I am trying to cling to some hope here - and identify some reason as to why I have to go through another divorce...as to why when it was SO difficult for me to trust anyone again and I finally did, it ended up being someone who (God knew) would hurt me - even if not intentionally.  Well, the best that I can come up with is that I might not see it yet, but that whatever happens, I am called as a Christian to try to respond in a loving manner - and even more so because like it or not, we do have some public attention right now.  I guess that if we're both going to suffer like this, I would like to at least feel that it was USEFUL suffering (as I would define that from my limited perspective down here on earth).  I would really like to see that we did our best to respond in ways that testified to God's healing grace and redemption and that in the very least, did not prevent us from emerging as better and stronger people in the end.  That's probably a pretty understandable wish, considering.... *shrugs*  Not sure if that wish will be granted or not.  Not sure of very much these days when it comes to particulars and supposed "guarantees," I'm afraid.  I believe in God's promises and that's about it.

Well, besides my faith and friends, what makes it a little easier for me is the fact that Malcolm is not blaming me for anything in the least and seems to have some genuine remorse over what he has done to me and to my dreams (as well as his own).  We have had some very ugly episodes as reality was setting in for him, and I had to seek counsel about getting him out of my apartment immediately even though he still lacked a job, car, or any income at all.  Every day on the job, I teach others about the importance of avoiding enabling and how to apply "tough love," but it sure is harder to actually DO it in life when your own heart is involved.  It is so much easier to talk about it in a classroom setting when my brain is not in too much danger of being clouded by the "heart stuff."  It was really, REALLY emotionally exhausting and sickening (and still is) to WANT to try to keep on helping when I have such a keen sensitivity to seeing Malcolm's very real need(s) - AND to do the "right thing" anyway by setting boundaries, accepting that it's not up to me to "save" Malcolm and knowing that my own needs time/space to heal are just as important as his needs.  I have also been learning to accept although Malcolm (and possibly others who don't understand) might perceive my actions as unloving or harsh, they were the most loving thing to do for both of us in the long-term.  It was so agonizing to lay out his deadline for leaving my apartment, but he kept on hurting me and it had to stop.  I have learned by now that no one is going to look out for me or care for me as well as I will for myself.  Sometimes taking steps for self-preservation also opens the door for healing in another's life (through not enabling) and I think that may be the eventual case here.  Even if someone doesn't necessarily MEAN to hurt you - and it's not "about you" - that doesn't mean that they're not hurting you anyway . . . and it doesn't mean that it's OK for them to keep doing it just because their intentions may not be bad.  Anyway, God is providing, but it's a walk of faith right now because nothing is coming easily or is consistent, especially as far as practical/tangible needs go. . .

Malcolm still claims that when he asked me to marry him, he genuinely had the best of good intentions and he was really hoping that he could become (hmmm.... i had been under the impression that he already WAS....) the husband that I needed (and he still says, that I "deserve").  Now he says that his eyes have been opened a lot through the past several weeks and that he understands that he was not in any shape to ask me to marry him in the first place given what he was keeping from me.  Although it was a sudden, painful way to find out that my marriage has to be over just after it started, maybe God also orchestrated that discovery to prevent me from having my hopes and heart dashed to pieces even more brutally after a longer time spent in the marriage . . . Who knows for sure?  Sometimes I do wonder if Malcolm's remorse/repentance and efforts to get help are real, or just a ploy to try to win me back, but mostly I just see him as a wounded, lost person who needs redemption.  I hope that his efforts are sincere for his own sake whether I am in the picture to any degree or not.

I have also been making my own inroads to receive the intervention and healing that I now need as well during this process.  Sometimes I get angry because I had just reached a point in my life where I felt quite content being single - just "wanted" a man out of desire; didn't "need" one out of personal deficiency - and here I am with the added financial pressures of copays and psychologist appointments.   I did prayerfully decide to continue paying the (HUGELY increased) medical insurance premium since I added Malcolm to my plan - but only until the divorce is final.  I'm not complaining about that because it was a decision that I willfully made, fully informed and not expecting anything in return.  I did it because I wanted to pave the way for continuity of care as far as his psychological services - and to a lesser degree, his medical checkup needs.  It isn't easy for either of us right now financially (I lost two weeks pay right after everything blew up in my face) or emotionally, and I would ask for continued prayers for both of our protection/direction as we try to recover and to rise from these ashes.

I will say that there are some signs that Malcolm is "for real" this time though.  For example, to help get the word out/help us reduce some of our dread about going out and running into happy well-wishers, Malcolm has started talking to the newspaper reporter who covered our original engagement article to see about him writing a followup story, in which Malcolm will take full responsibility (in a very GENERAL way) for this "scandal" (for lack of a better word).  I'm not sure if they'll run the story or not, but I can see how finally having OUR say publicly might help us out by setting the records straight once and for all . . . and then we can hopefully all just DROP it, leaving it there.

Ending and/or revising this relationship is particularly difficult because it is clear that we both still have feelings for each other (who wouldn't?? we were just married weeks ago), but I am certain that emotions alone are not a solid enough foundation upon which a lasting marriage can be built.  It sure is tough when you hate the sin, but love the sinner anyway.  Sin destroys - love redeems.  Never forget that ALL sin has consequence - and you don't know what you had until it is GONE.  Strive to live with wisdom and foresight, my friends.

Well enough of all that...  I have finally recovered enough to resume some semblance of a regular running routine.  I have lost a lot of endurance since the disaster of June 7th, but am slowly getting back into some kind of shape on my own.  I have always loved running just for fun and I don't want to allow this nightmare to steal that away from me too.  During this past year, however, I have started to become curious about what my competitive potential might be if I ever really buckled down and started training the right way.  I'm not sure yet, but I may consider running the Pittsburgh marathon (alone) again next year just to put old demons to rest on the course once again - and hopefully once and for all.  Malcolm has always truly believed in HOW I run - that is for real - and he tells me all of the time that I do have some natural talent (although not talent of his caliber).  I have set some boundaries where he knows that I want to return to running alone and training myself and he seems to be fine with/respectful of that line.  Regardless, Malcolm continues to insist that I have more "guts and determination" than he ever had and that he would have dropped out several times during runs where I kept going for it.  He keeps telling me that if he had what I have, he "...would have run a lot faster than a 2:11:35 marathon, I'll tell you that much."  He thinks that I should keep training but to do so with more focus and a serious running program.  Define "serious" though . . .I mean, I did just run off my left big toenail last week - and THAT was the product of only 35 miles in a one-week time frame!!??  You can always tell when I'm back in action again by simply checking how many toenails I need (or uhhh..."HAVE") to paint on any given day:

(sorry - that WAS kinda gross)    Anyway, Malcolm also admits (and I already pretty much figured out) that we never trained "right" while we were running together, in part due to too many other things getting in the way - *ahem* like perhaps, FALLING IN LOVE  and spending too much time hanging out, snacking, and watching movies instead of actually running . . . which doesn't exactly help times come down.  The other training error is that all I have done is run myself into the ground with long, slow distance and insane mileage trying to train for three marathons in one year as a brand new runner (BTW - solely my decision to run the third - Pittsburgh this year; Malcolm had discouraged that as "too much").  Although I am taking a look at other personal goals (education/career, etc), I remain curious about what I really can accomplish in running if I set my mind to it and started pushing myself to and past my physical limits in training, just as I characteristically do in most other things. . . Maybe my intensity will help me out in this arena.  Malcolm has repeatedly said that I have inside what it takes to run a sub-2:45 marathon (that's about a 6:30 min/mile pace for all 26.2 miles and a 2:47 is an Olympic Trials qualifying time for women so.... uh, whoa).  He claims that he "...never jokes around about running" so . . . *shrugs*  I personally feel a 2:39 PR is possible - which yes, I DO know probably seems absolutely insane to even put down in writing after I just ran a 4:17, but I really do believe in my heart that this is not out of the question for me, even training on my own.  I don't know why, but I do think that I'm capable of that with the right physical conditioning and of course, God-willing.  The power of the mind is an amazing thing and what the brain harbors, the body tends to manifest - good or bad.  People tend to underestimate what they can do in a lot of areas and all I know is that if I had bothered to ask "the experts" in January of '08 (when I couldn't even complete an 11-minute mile) if I could possibly even COMPLETE a full 26.2 mile marathon course only 16 weeks later in Cleveland, they would have told me to get a grip and start with training for a 10k (6.2 miles) or something even shorter.  Well, I didn't bother to ask then about what my supposed "limitations" should be and I didn't just complete the marathon, but I ran a respectable 4:13 with no racing experience at all.  So you know what?  I don't really give a hoot about asking "the experts" about what I can do now or in the future either.  If God wants us to do something, he equips and empowers us.  If I should continue with my running and regardless of my "times" that activity somehow brings glory to God, then He'll decide what this body is capable of accomplishing, at least that's how I see it.  You never know until you try and you are only a failure when you give up on yourself and/or put God in a safe little box.  As a gesture of encouragement and confidence in me, Malcolm signed and left behind this bottle of wine from the 2009 Pittsburgh marathon's V.I.P. dinner as he was moving out of my apartment last month.  He instructed that it is to be opened whenever I win my first marathon.  It reads: "A.C.E., You have what it takes.  Love always, M*E."

I have also recovered adequately to periodically look through my photos from the England trip without falling apart completely.  It still makes me cry to see and remember what we have lost, but I know that life can only be lived forward.  Even so, Malcolm and I had such a great time and I really liked my new inlaws (who despite the fact that I happen to be suddenly divorcing their family member, have been quite positive/supportive of me after Malcolm told them - in general terms - what had happened).  His parents still don't know that we're splitting up because his poor mom just started her chemo and is still terminally ill with cancer.  Malcolm's dad is not holding it together at all and makes it well-known that he sees no point in continuing on whenever his wife of fifty years passes away.  So prayers for that would be good too.  Anyway, I decided that in spite of all that has happened to us since the trip, these photos still represent a season of my life, so I should own it and celebrate whatever good there was in it all.  Maybe someday Malcolm and I will both be able to look back on these pictures and feel more peace than we do know.  I pray that it will be so. . .  Looking at these recent photos, it is still so hard to believe that we would have been celebrating our stateside wedding ceremony and reception together only two weeks from now.  My August wedding dress has arrived, all fitted and ready-to-go - OR NOT.  Here is how it would have looked on the Big Day (it is a really pretty design, regardless):

. . . and (don't laugh but) I was going to process in to a recording of Vangelis' instrumental theme song from "Chariots of Fire" (it is actually quite appropriate - have a listen!!):

. . . We have lost SO much just as it was beginning . . .    Heart-breaking, it is.  And we will need time to grieve this loss. . . In the meantime, why not keep me company on a bittersweet trip down "memory lane."

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Okay, to start where I left off, I'll need to backtrack a bit here.  On Friday, May 8th, Malcolm and I were legally married and the following day we had a cookout in North Park for the 40+ marathon training group runners and their families.  As they were all congratulating us on our finish line engagement the previous weekend, Malcolm & I laughed and announced that in fact, we were already married and so hey - thanks for being part of our "unofficial honeymoon!!"   They joked about they can just "never keep up with" us.  We all had a fantastic time eating and sharing our experiences along the course the previous Sunday.  I was freezing and as usual, not at all dressed for the sudden shift in weather, so Malcolm wrapped me up in his running jacket.  Below are some photos that "Aaron" (pictured) shot and emailed to us:

One week later - off to England!! At the Pittsburgh airport.... After finding Malcolm's picture on some "Hall of Fame" in downtown medical center, he told me to look for "Frank O'Harris."  I went looking for an Irish guy.  For the record, it's actually football great "FRANCO HARRIS" (see how little I'm into sports??? I'm great for wrecking these guys' egos) and uh...he's not a pale redhead.  Obviously.

You know how I love flying - and the trip was grand.  British Airways serves great food (well, for an airline anyway) and we watched movies.  Malcolm's sister-in-law (Julie) works for the airline and put a note in our reservations that we were honeymooning.  They upgraded us to the Club level (right below First Class) and the seats were very comfy.  I was too excited to sleep much but curled up with Malcolm and practiced my (pathetic) British accent.  All of the flight attendants had 'em too, so I was trying to "blend."    Malcolm's brother (Trevor) and niece (Brittany) picked us up from the airport.  They gave me a "welcome gift" of a little Union Jack keychain.  I felt welcomed right away.  Due to jetlag, I actually fell asleep in the car on the trip from the London airport to their home.  I did shoot this picture of scenery along the road before passing out though!

After we had a bite to eat and met the rest of the family, Malcolm and I retired for a nap.  Trevor cooked a traditional English dinner, which is pretty basic and "no frills."  We had meat, potatoes, fresh veggies, and "gravy" (actually just thin juice) poured over the entire deal.  I also tried my first "Yorkshire Pudding" - kind of tastes like our Thanksgiving stuffing.

During the first week of the trip, we were without a car, so we spent time just hanging out, recovering from jet lag, running through the cute little village's streets and the (amazing!!) English countryside.  I noticed instantly how much more polite everyone there - even the teenagers.  They nod and say "hello" while out for their daily walks or bike rides (a lot of biking there) and I found it quite refreshing to encounter kids with manners for a change.  We asked a lot about the quality of the school systems there since we were thinking of moving overseas and starting a family at the time . . .

My first meal dining out in England was actually during a quick family shopping trip to a local outdoor plaza.  Surprisingly, there were many items on the menu that I had never seen before.  I was hungry and wanted "real" food - in the form of a chicken salad (I know, I know, I go all the way to England and want to try a . . . CHICKEN SALAD??) but they don't have those like they do here.  We ordered in a grocery store cafe and all of Malcolm's family just had tea and scones.  I had to wait for my "salad" that they were creating on my behalf, so already I'm sitting there looking a bit odd with no food.  Now I can't believe that I didn't think to take a picture (was probably too mortified for that to occur to me in the moment) but my "salad" came out as a fully intact HALF-CHICKEN on a plate with some lettuce on the side.  Everyone was pretty much done with their snacks and here I am - Malcolm's new Yankee wife - with a mid-morning entire half of a bird on her plate???    His mom just kind of looked at me and looked away.  All I had heard about for months was how much smaller portions are in Europe and I order the one thing on the menu that borders on barbaric.  Kindly, Malcolm offered to help me about halfway through the feast while his very polite English family attempted to act as though everything was perfectly normal.  (Malcolm now tells me that they were laughing when I wasn't looking but...)  Way to make a first impression!!!  Oink. 

One highlight of my trip was spending some great quality time getting to know sixteen year-old Brittany.  She is sixteen years old and already a naturally good 800-meter/shorter distance runner.  While her dad was out biking, Malcolm was out running, and even the dog was out scampering, I'd spy Brittany lounging around either studying or emailing or just about anything except for - SWEATING. :)  It just cracked me up to observe this, all the while knowing that dear little loafing Brittany recently broke her school's record in the mile - without any training AT ALL - and she was advancing into the regional running meet the following month.  She didn't seem very concerned about it, really.  Nevertheless, I was quite honored when Brittany asked if I would be willing to go out for a run with her to help build up her endurance.  She made it to almost three miles and then (very politely, of course) asked if I would mind if we stopped to walk.  Brittany was such a sweetheart and said that she was grateful to have someone to run with for a change since despite everyone telling her how much "potential" she has, she has terrible trouble motivating herself to train consistently and her friends aren't into running, so....  We had some good talks, and on that run/walk as I recall, we chatted mostly about her interest in a boy who wanted to take her to a dance (they've only even had "Proms" in England for two years now).  We also discussed Brittany's love of horses quite a bit (they keep their two horses at a nearby stable . . . I really miss riding but we didn't fit that in, unfortunately).  Well, Brittany is just precious and is such a delight.  Just a really nice, well-mannered, and wholesome girl.    Anyway, we also celebrated Malcolm's mother's ("Dot") birthday while there...have a look:

We also took Dot and Alan (Malcolm's dad) out for some of the best fish-n-chips to a place on the water called, "Mablethorpe."  I'm not much for seafood at ALL, but I tried it and rather liked it.  I decided that maybe I just wasn't much on CRAPPY seafood, and hadn't had the good stuff in all of my years on this planet.  Malcolm was taking great pride in "broadening my horizons," as usual.  We also spent some time that day playing cheap slot machines along the beachy shops and I picked up a couple of souvenir gifts for people.  Malcolm also scared me half to death with a crab carcass that he found while wading in the freezing waters with Brittany and Julie that day.  Always up to something...

On Saturday of our first week there, we had the small wedding blessing and reception in that 700+ year-old church.  Malcolm and I met a couple of days beforehand with the vicar ("Charlie") at his home in the country and we both appreciated him very much for being very down-to-earth and well-grounded in Scripture.  We also hired an organist and chose our hymns.  Malcolm and I were instructed to walk in together since we had already been married and we did so to my favorite, Pachelbel's "Canon in D."  Malcolm requested that his favorite hymn "Jerusalem" (also featured in the Chariots of Fire movie), as well as one of my own tried-and-true ones, "Amazing Grace," be sung aloud during the service.  I wore an old outfit that I've had for years because my wedding dress was still on order for the August ceremony and I figured, what the heck - it's not about how we look anyway.  I was trying to be frugal and I don't like to wear all-white dresses, so anything I bought would probably be wasted.  I scrubbed up OK anyhow.    I mean, Malcolm didn't run the other way when he saw me that morning (although he was running late due to a perfectionistic ironing job he was performing...his mom got on his case about that one, let me tell you!!)  Well, Malcolm had given Julie an onyx pendant for her birthday, and she gave it to me to borrow (something old, something new, something borrowed....you know the drill) since it matched perfectly!  Julie and Brittany also surprised me with a bouquet that morning and it looked great!  That was such a touching gesture...  Malcolm's family had invited some close friends to join us in celebrating and a few people from his running club showed up for the reception as well.  They were all so gracious, hoping that we would follow-through with our interest in moving permanently to England and living nearby.  The only real problem with the church was that most of our pictures were ruined by these little "orbs" that were ALL over the place - you can see gobs of them in the original shot of us standing inside the church with the altar area as a backdrop...  The church "felt" good - but it was a little creepy as orbs are said to be spirits or something and everything there was so ANCIENT...  Those were the only photos taken during the trip that had 'em in there too....

After the ceremony, we drove back to the house (couldn't get used to getting into the driver's side of the car to be a passenger!!) and Julie hosted a reception, mostly appetizers but with the most wonderful wedding FRUITCAKE (they're different in England and SO surprisingly yummy!!).  They added the personal touch of two runners as our cake toppers.  You'll notice that the girl is strategically located IN FRONT OF the male runner (Julie and Brittany affixed the cake toppers themselves...heh).  Even their dog, "Kya," got dressed up for the occasion, donning a matching burgundy bowtie!!

That one is just really great in black-and-white too...

After everyone left, Malcolm wanted to do a 14-mile training run at HIS pace, so he quite kindly borrowed a BIKE for me...so that I could "join him" (err....read: "KEEP UP with him") in his run.    This was my first time in probably ten years on a bike, so it was a bit of a rocky start for me.  Particularly when one road was closed off and we had to navigate these horrible busy sideroads with not enough room for even two cars to pass each other coming the opposite ways.  I was very nearly roadkill quite a few times.  I also wrecked into a waist-level stone wall just at the end of the trip and bruised my hip.  I tried to distract myself from the pain by taking a picture of a rather amusing road sign....

The following week, Julie and Trevor took some time off of work and we all drove out to hike around in the Yorkshire Dales.  The waterfall there is the one where there was that fight scene between Robin Hood (Kevin Costner) and Big John Little in the blockbuster movie, Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves.  I was trying to stay dry, so of course was the only one who FELL IN to the water and soaked my shoes straight through.  It was so mossy and slippery in certain areas.  Malcolm is a bit better on his feet than me - in a lot of ways - and he ended up being very sweet about my clutziness in the end.  It was a perfect weather day and we stopped off for "jacket potatoes" (baked potatoes) and salads (they use "salad cream" - not dressings there) at a cute little outdoor cafe'.  Then we drove around to a touristy shopping area out in the mountains and took in a lot of scenery along the way.  I held off on buying anything though, because I was trying to find the "PERFECT" gifts for everyone who back home who didn't get to come to England...

Needing a little time to our newly married selves, Malcolm and I decided to forego what would have turned out to be a VERY expensive road trip to Scotland, and instead rented a car bound for the scenic Lake District.  This is a very touristy area - and also amazingly gorgeous.  Just spectacular.  On the first day as we arrived there, I procrastinated on taking photos because I was tired and wanted to nap.  I later regretted that decision because for the following two days it turned out to be quite rainy and too mucky; not the best of photo-taking conditions.  Nevertheless, we checked into a nice Bed-and-Breakfast and then spent time looking at shops (it was here that I finally bought my gifts for people).  We also stopped off for ice cream and scones (he loves them with "real" clotted cream...they're everywhere too) and looked around at the wildlife (mostly ducks).  The room that we booked was decent but we were disappointed in the "traditional English breakfast" that was skimpy and nothing special.  Oh well.  We did make it through most of the day nibbling a sleeve of "biscuits," the English equivalent of American "cookies."  Hey, they were cheap!!  The best meal we had in the Lake District cost us not even "4 pounds" for dinner (about 6 American dollars) at "The Carvery" buffet right on the Lake.  There was a huge "football" (read: soccer) game on that night and Malcolm needed to go somewhere where he could see the T.V.  Since we had no food in the room, that fit the bill.  The English are passionate about their "football," that's for sure.  It's akin to American football fever.  Malcolm kept prepping me for a mad dash (err...RUN) to the car at halftime so that we could make it back to the B&B before the second half.  Since he is fully aware of how crazy he is about these things and kept apologizing for him being so "male," I humoUred" (English spelling) him...

Prior to all of that, Malcolm had taken me out for an 8-mile run (during which he stopped off at the store and bought/carried a bar of soap since the B&B didn't provide any??? weird) in the rain.  I was still a little worn out from all of the marathoning but we kept a nice pace even through a lot of hills.  It feels very safe running around England and I had a blast following Malcolm through wooded trails to places I had never been before....until Malcolm took me off through a muddy field and kept getting further and further ahead of me.  I didn't realize that he is also a former National Cross Country Champion - and England's version of "cross country" is a wee bit more severe than what we think of when we run through grass in the States.  I kept trying to keep up but when Malcolm finally noticed that I was WAY back there....trying to keep shoe on while extracting it from about a foot of MUD....he came back shaking his head and telling me that he "...forgot....this isn't YOUR kind of running.....let's go back."  For whatever ridiculous reason, that comment ticked me off, so I took off running again through the awful terrain again (probably thinking along the lines of: "Oh YEAH?? Well I'll show YOU...") with Malcolm coming after me, shouting: "Annie, stop - you're going to hurt yourself."  After a heartfelt moment crying and hugging in a rainy field, I faced facts - cross-country really is NOT my style and I tend to be a stubborn twit sometimes.  Malcolm also tends to forget that he is a bit "special" when it comes to running and he doesn't always take that into account when he decides, "Hey - let's run over there!!!"   There was no camera involved on that run, thank goodness.

Our final run in the Lake District (pictured below) was less fun as I was feeling sick/worn out and ended up walking a lot of it, with a brief pause off the beaten path at what I now call "my crying rock."  It was an enormously hilly run.  I decided to make the most of it and to shoot photos along the way.  Malcolm would run up ahead and then back to make sure that I was OK in order to get his speed work done.  I had one bad moment where a group of mean-looking cows were blocking my path and advancing on me.  I tried to look as harmless as possible - I mean I didn't know if they were bulls or cows, I don't know livestock!! - and I avoided all eye contact, innocently and slowly wandering off the path.....and also as it ended up, into the mud again....  My first thought when I saw these cows with their ears flattened back was "OMGoodness - am I wearing any RED???"  (shows what I know - I'm a sorry excuse for a country girl).  In all seriousness though, I've had a bad experience with a bull charging me in the past so this was NOT feeling very good.  Then I heard Malcolm coming up behind me, laughing and shouting questions about what the heck was I doing standing in the mud like that again??  I told him to be quiet and stay back because we might get trampled if they "attacked!"  I was really scared.  Malcolm raised one eyebrow and then walked over to the largest cow - the reddish brown one - and SHOVED it in the rear to move it out of the way.  Do you still qualify as a "hero" to the "damsel in distress" if it turns out that there never was a threat at all???  Now THAT is the question. 

Yep - I took that one myself . . . pretty decent pic there, eh???  :)

"My crying rock" (dead center)

The scene as I approached - MAD COW ALERT!!!!!  Aw, c'mon....you would've been scared too. 

We drove back from the Lake District on Thursday night and then hopped the train to London the next morning and we took an excited Brittany along for the adventure.  The train ride itself was an experience for me!!  We had day passes for the Underground but still ended up doing about 14 or 15 miles of walking, as we calculated it.  I was surprised by how many people of all nationalities are in London and every bit of architecture looked like a postcard.  I loved every second of London!!  It is SO different from the States...and so are the people.  We started off in Piccadilly Circus and began making the rounds...

Scenes from Trafalgar Square . . .

On the streets of London....

Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament...

The London Eye and along the Thames - We didn't go up on the London Eye to have a "birdseye view" (the lines were too long), but we did walk along the Thames and there were many entertainers and mimes, etc. dressed up and doing their "thangs" for the crowds...  I especially liked the bicycling lizards.  Me and all of the rest of the kids. 

The Tower of London (didn't go in - too much $$ and not enough time, but REALLY neat)....Found a "Knight in Shining Armor" (its "nether-region" design made me chuckle!!) right there in the gift shop, but alas - he wouldn't have fit in my suitcase anyhow.

"Traitor's Gate" (but what goes in doesn't always come out...)

Tower Bridge...

Wandering around an Indian flea market by the Thames....a weary Malcolm took a "cat nap" and we followed suit...

I insisted on going WAY out of our ways to visit St. Paul's Cathedral . . . and once there, I was also inspired (much to the chagrin of my weary traveling companions) to sing "Feed the Birds" rather audibly and just like Mary Poppins (well, almost).  And don't you dare laugh because I take great pride in the fact that I happen to know ALL of the words, straight through!! Thank you very much. 

And onward through the gates of Buckingham Palace....  *sssshhhhh*  I still think we were "being watched" because I swear I saw one of those curtains part to one side just a wee bit.  Ugh!  NOSY Royals . . . why they can't just give us some privacy while we're trying to take some decent pictures of their house??  (by the way, that was DRY British "humour" . . . or maybe just one "Ugly American's" bad attempt)...

Well, Brittany and I were holding up pretty well throughout our half-marathon-PLUS all-day walking expedition despite the fact that (a) our informal tour guide was an intense, fast-moving and relentless endurance machine who seemed to require nothing but water and a couple of "biscuits" for daily sustenance (a.k.a. "Mr. East"), (b) we both had developed aching feet (Brittany's fashionable flip-flop sandals left her in worse shape than I - and made her my "hero" for the day), and (c) we had been forced to "MacGyver" a creative solution using an old sweatshirt in order to manage Brittany's short-short skirt on what turned out to be a windy-windy day.    After watching Malcolm nearly pop two guys in their mouths on my behalf earlier that day (they made a couple of crude remarks toward me and Malcolm overheard them; he has always had a very quick temper about stuff like that), both Brittany and I actually ended up feeling quite comfortable and safe wandering through the streets of London, wind or no wind.  Even so, as night fell and the "night life" started to pick up, we all decided to haul ourselves back down to the Underground for a safe return trip home.  We were deliriously tired - at least judging from the photographic evidence...

The train ride home from London . . . thirsty, tired, and a day well-spent!!

The day after our London excursion, Malcolm, Trevor, and Alan had enjoyed a "male bonding experience" watching a "football" game at the local pub while Brittany and I spend some good old-fashioned girl time hanging out.  She asked me to help her with planning a hairstyle for her upcoming dance and so we spent hours together looking through pictures and talking makeup, jewelry, etc.  I then showed her how to use a curling iron, did her hair in an "up-do," and left her with a bottle of imported AMERICAN hairspray to use on the "Big Day."  She is such a sweetheart.  I spent some time talking with Julie that day, just about marrying into the family and some family dynamics that might be good to understand.  After that, we took the entire East family out to dinner as a "Thank You" for hosting us and contributing so much to our special time together.  Trevor, Alan, and Malcolm all coordinated their attire for the occasion - English football shirts, of course!!

The following day, we said our emotional "Goodbyes" to the family.  Malcolm's mom hugged me, whispered in my ear: "Welcome to the family" and tearfully told us to "Just be happy together....look after each other..."  Malcolm had a really hard time saying goodbye to everyone . . .

. . . I know that Malcolm's heart is still so much in England.  That country is truly his "home."  He even feels that he runs quicker while he is on home soil.  Malcolm says that he just feels so much more "free" over there for some reason...

Anyway, I have promised Malcolm that if he isn't living over in England and something happens to him here in the States, that I will at least see to it that he is buried (or more likely, his ashes scattered) over there on England soil.  Malcolm also wants "Jerusalem," "Amazing Grace" (on the bagpipes), "You'll Never Walk Alone" (also inscribed on his Christmas 2008 plaque), and (for good humoUr) "Blue are the ColoUrs" (British football team, "Chelsea's" song) played at his funeral.

I'll never forget just shaking my head at the sight of Malcolm and Trevor marching out the door to watch the game at the local pub, proudly belting out Chelsea's song in unison.  It was just "one of those moments" and Julie, Brittany, and I sure did get a good eye-rolling and laugh out of it... 

Well, that's that.  I'll wrap up with some photos from the plane window, taken as we were leaving England:

Yeah, I did get some odd looks shooting those puppies through the plane window.  And no, it's was not my first time on an airplane.  It's just that some things never change and flying - with or without a parachute - still makes me happily giddy.  As far as I can tell, it's not too dangerous to have your "head in the clouds" on occasion - as long as you're grounded in the right things most of the time...  This isn't a perfect world - people make mistakes and lose their way in it - but there is still much beauty to enjoy anyway.  And that's NOT a mistake.

"...in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight."  - Proverbs 3:6

Oh - and a little update!!!  Our "Would-Have Been" Custom-Designed Wedding Cake Topper just arrived (pictured below) - "Never Give Up On a Dream: The Tortoise and The Hare" (ironically as it turns out, at the "finish line") .  The artist was working on this for months, but interestingly enough, captured the moment at the finish line of the Pittsburgh marathon pretty accurately, with Malcolm to my right, arm wrapped around my shoulders.  And yeah. . . I WAS a bit of a turtle in that race as well.    Anyway, we had him put me in a black ballcap beneath my veil, similar to the (HOT) canvas one in which I was innocently running (and overheating) when Malcolm found me training myself (with NO knowledge of "technical running gear" - whoops) for the Cleveland marathon last year.  Malcolm's best marathon time - 2:11:35 - is printed on his racing bib.  My bib was fashioned to make a simple yet very telling statement - "?"  Time will tell "THE TIME," but from here on out, I race alone.  And I STILL believe.

To be continued . . .

(as selected by Malcolm to be "MY song" just prior to the 2008 Cleveland marathon)

Keep on dreaming and never EVER give up!!  Perhaps the best is STILL yet to come. . . And above all, try to keep a sense of "humoUR."

 ~Ann~

An old favorite - and one close to my heart right now . . . Hayley Westenra performs "I Dreamed a Dream"

Pittsburgh Marathon 2009: "For Better or For Worse"

Well HERE'S a blast from the past...  Yes, I am still alive and doing quite well.  Looks as though I have some catching up to do around here.  I took a little hiatus during the holidays and have had so much going on that I just never came back.  However, given all of the events of this past week that I would like to preserve, I decided that enough is enough.  WickeDarling LIVES!! 

Okay, now let me backtrack a bit.  I promised an update on my THANKSGIVING (my it has been a long time) dinner efforts last year and then left you all hanging.  All went well as you can see from the photos below...with the very small exception of me forgetting that I put the sweet potato casserole directly under the broiler - for FIVE minutes.  Nearly burned myself out of the apartment, but Malcolm beat the flames down and saved the day.  And NO . . . it was not edible.  Particularly after I forgot to get turkey forklift thingys to remove the gigantic bird from the disposable baking tray and turkey grease poured down all over the charred remains of the sweet potato casserole (which I was still insisting would be "just fine" - I think they call it "denial?" )...

My family, post-Turkey Day visit :)

Christmas 2008 was also pretty decent.  I made a Christmas Lasagna from scratch and that was good for about a week of leftovers.  And yes, of course I took a picture of it!  SOME things never change...

Then Malcolm gifted me with some new running shoes, a pretty necklace, and some miscellaneous running gear.  I gave him what he describes as "the best present I've ever been given" - a customized, black and gold plaque, complete with the lyrics to "You'll Never Walk Alone."  I had them change the word "walk" to "run" wherever it appeared and put a photo of us running toward the finish line together in Columbus on the opposite side of the plaque.  The words are very meaningful to British football ("soccer") fans in Liverpool and the crowd sings them at games.  Before Malcolm went into professional running, Chelsea was recruiting him to play professional soccer and he still gets tears in his eyes when he hears these lines (wherever you read "run," it says "walk" in the original tune):

When you run through a storm
Hold your head up high
And don't be afraid of the dark
At the end of the storm
Is a golden sky
And the sweet silver song of a lark.
Run on through the wind
Run on through the rain
Though your dreams be tossed and blown,
Run on, run on with hope in your heart
And you'll never run alone
You'll never run alone.
Run on, run on with hope in your heart
And you'll never run alone.

Then at the beginning of January 2009, Malcolm started coaching a group of 40+ Pittsburgh marathon hopefuls through these 7:00 AM Saturday morning long runs, ranging between 10 and 20 miles a pop.  After 16 weeks of getting to bed early on Friday night, getting up at 5 AM on Saturdays to hydrate, eat, and drive to the varying locations where the training courses would start, and then spending Saturdays recovering from the effort, we are MORE THAN HAPPY to have the marathon all wrapped up now and get back to some normalcy in our weekend routines.  I remember that our first long run with the group was in negative 5 degree temperatures and people had icicles hanging off of their beards by the time they rolled back in.  My eyelashes were frosted over and frozen together at the edges.  We did lose some people who dropped out of the program, but many of them hung in there and everyone in our group who trained completed the marathon (or dropped down to the half and completed that).  Some lasting friendships were made over bagels and coffee after the runs, that's for sure.

In fact, when Malcolm lost his job last month at the shoe store and turned his attention toward private coaching (probably what he should have been doing all along anyway), most of the runners in our group decided to continue training and to pursue some shorter races/speed work at the track next.  We have some long-term plans and vision regarding running clubs and Malcolm has also linked up with a physical therapist who is putting together top-notch running programs in the area and who wants Malcolm to oversee all of the running programs/be the head coach for that.  Opportunities just keep opening up for him lately - no guarantees, of course, but the future looks bright!  He is running insanely well at age 53 and has not even been training at his own pace lately until races come and he kicks his pace down to about 6:30 pace for 20-milers (placing 5th overall out of thousands - and that's not even his best by a long shot right now).  The Pittsburgh marathon gave him a speaking slot at the Expo this year (see pics below - he's great in front of an audience) and also a free booth where he distributed brochures with this catchy image (below) of him racing a 30k (18.6 miles) on March 28th of this year.  I'm so proud of him and how hard he works...  I have been serving as his secretary lately since I have more organizational and typing ability than he does - and it is a complete joy to help him out...  He appreciates everything that I do for him!

I also ran the 30k (18.6 miles) in March ("Just a Short Run") and ended up with a 2:44:02 finish time (8:49 min/mile pace) - not bad.  I was out of it that day though and didn't feel like racing at all.  There were also many people in the way who slowed me down for the first few miles since I had to weave around them.  We figured that I could have run around 8:40s at least if I had been "on" that day.  Malcolm ran it in 2:00:21 (a 6:28 min/mile pace) and placed 6th overall.  All he had been doing due to time constraints was running with the training group and me, doing 8:30s to 9:00s on a training pace for months and he still ran that well against guys half his age who have been training their butts off for that race.  Unbelievable.  But not good enough for him.  He now wants to get his American citizenship so that he can break U.S. records in the Master's Division (40+ age group).  If he runs well enough, he won't have to pay for any of his entries or lodging at races and should win some prize money along the way.  That would be grand. :)  Nevertheless, the MOST important result of that race on March 28th was that it also happened to be the "one-year anniversary" of when I walked into Fleet Feet and met Malcolm for the first time.  Soooooo....like any good little runner needing carbs, I bought us the most delicious gourmet torte (white almond flavor with buttercream frosting and sugar-roasted almond slivers!! )...

As for me, I doubt that Nike will be calling anytime soon, but what the heck.  I'm having fun and have been hampered with knee problems and just overall exhaustion/fatigue since I just started running in January of 2008 and have been on a rigorous marathon training program ever since, running 2 marathons last year and then this past one in Pittsburgh.  Malcolm took me downtown to the UPMC Sports Medicine center in February to investigate.  It turned out to be a "tracking issue" related to my right kneecap being misaligned due to iliotibial band problems and the left side of my body being substantially stronger than my right side.  I was having some excruciating pain that brought me to tears during the last five miles of one fifteen-mile training run and so off to Dr. Stone (one of the best) who ordered that I do rehab exercises to strengthen the muscles and ligaments surrounding the knee.  While at the medical center, I even got to see Malcolm's photo up in their little "hall of fame" down there at the center.  Wonder why MY picture isn't up there too?  Hm. 

Anyway, even before the knee pain worsened, I had just been feeling burned out on mileage and am going to start focusing on getting faster through track workouts - followed by extending my mileage while keeping the same (faster) pace.  I've been doing things kind of backwards as most runners work up to a marathon from shorter/faster distances first - and probably run better overall marathon times that way as well.  I won't run a marathon again until maybe Pittsburgh next year.  I'll just help support Malcolm's racing and then do some shorter ones myself.  It's HIS turn now!!

I did run "The Frigid Five-Miler" in January 2009 (when I was kind of out of shape after the holidays) and managed a 8:00 min/mile pace all the way through 4 miles when we hit an ENORMOUS hill that killed people's times.  It was an incredibly steep incline that continued for 0.78th of a mile.  Malcolm finished his race (32:05 finish time, 6:25 pace; won the Master's Division by a lot) and came back for me...

He found me on THE hill and man, oh man, was I NOT a happy camper...

I ended up finishing in 42:46 (8:33 pace) which placed me 8th out of 42 in my age group, but I was kind of bummed about that one.  The hill slowed everyone down though and there was the small consolation of a nice, hot pancake breakfast at the Lodge in North Park after the race.   Food cures many ills.  After that, Malcolm and I headed over to visit my friends, Chad and Shannon, at their church and to meet their newly adopted baby girl!!  Absolutely adorable. 

I also ran "The Spring Thaw" (15-miler) in February 2009 and kept the exact same pace average as I had in the Frigid Five-Miler - an 8:33 pace.  My finishing time was 2:08:17 and my splits after each five miles were: 42:25, 42:32, and 43:21 (guess I got tired that last lap).    Malcolm also ran it, but opted for the 20-miler and finished 5th overall in 2:10:38.  His splits were: 31:27, 32:13, 33:06, and 33:53.  He was pretty happy with that since he hadn't trained at all and also ended up (*ahem*) with "intestinal difficulties" around mile 17 that worked themselves out . . . into his shorts.  Hey, it happens.  And he finished anyway.    The cool part of that race was that Malcolm's goal was to lap me (we were running 5-mile loops) but he never did.  AND it is the only race, I'm sure, where we'll both run it and I'll be waiting for HIM at the finish line!!  Never mind that he ran 5 more miles than I did....I choose to look at the bright side - I got there first!!  Nah-nah-nah-nah-NAH-nah....    After that race, we had pizza (Vocelli's pizza for 2,000+ runners!!! picture THAT) and soup in the North Park Rose Barn.

Okay now... on to THE BIG ONE - the 2009 Dick's Sporting Goods Pittsburgh Marathon!!!  The 26.2 mile monster was scheduled for Sunday, May 3rd at 7:30 AM after a six-year absence due to lack of sponsorship.  Take a look at THIS course...

Yeah....NO problem.   To be honest, Malcolm and I had SO much going on during the weeks leading up to the race that it was hard to get very nervous about this marathon in advance.  To me, it kind of seemed like "just another marathon" and another stressor to get off of my plate as soon as possible.  On top of that, I had been having flu-like symptoms, even missing a couple days of work, during the two weeks prior to this race.  Happily, the worst of it (intestinal stuff) cleared up 3 to 4 days before the race, so that boosted my spirits.  Nevertheless, once I was around the race atmosphere, I was able to conjure up some enthusiasm and excitement for the race itself.  It had just been such a long road getting there this time; a road riddled with potholes in scheduling, injuries, new faces/new names, and major life decisions all along the way...

Malcolm spent all day Friday at the Expo, greeting runners and selling this "Fluid" Recovery drink at the booth, which he shared with "Cliff," the physical therapist/his new business partner.  After work, I drove down to pick him up and then we were off to the marathon's "V.I.P. Dinner" at the Roberto Clemente Museum.  Apparently, this is where it was "good to be seen," and neither one of us was too-too keen on that type of gathering.  We had some wonderful appetizers and one of the servers was a former patient of mine (what are the chances of that??).  She did not appear to be healthy and that bothered me somewhat.  I told her to give me a call if/when she wants to talk.  We'll see.

Anyway, Roger Kingdom (two-time Olympic Gold Medalist in the 110 hurdles) approached Malcolm at the dinner to catch up and we learned that he is also doing private coaching as well, so possibly a good connection there.  Bill Rodgers was also there and he is an old friend/running buddy of Malcolm's.  Bill remembered me from the Cleveland marathon last May and was thrilled to hear that Malcolm and I are "together."  That guy just cracks me up.  Bill showed up in jeans and a technical shirt - complete with a pair of old running shoes - while everyone else was dressed to the nines.  But hey, he's BILL RODGERS, so he can get away with it.    Malcolm got into some good-natured ribbing about the fact that Bill just ran the Boston marathon two weeks prior in 4:06 (still not a bad time at 61 years old, by the way), and that I was already faster than him in Columbus with my 4:03 finish time.    Bill couldn't care less what times he runs at this point, though.  He "gets it."  Bill is all about giving back to others and enjoying the sport for whatever it happens to be at the moment.  He also likes his carbs, as he kept diving into the pasta and encouraging us to do the same.  Eventually after the speakers and photographers did their jobs, Malcolm and I found some quiet space upstairs for coffee and desserts.  I really love what a gentleman he is when we are out in public together; he treats me like a queen. 

Bill Rodgers & me at the V.I.P. dinner

(in case you're wondering HE was the "VIP") 

Just like old times... Bill & Malcolm

On Saturday afternoon, Malcolm spoke and answered questions at the Expo.  We ran into several of the runners from the training program and I got "Aaron," (a new runner in his first marathon, finished in 4:47 - not bad!!) to have Bill Rodgers sign his bib for good luck, just as Bill had signed mine in Cleveland before the race.  It was great to see his enthusiasm and energy - he is definitely HOOKED!! :)

While Malcolm wrapped up, I checked into the Westin (sponsor hotel) and tried to sleep.  Not much luck.  Malcolm scored some free tickets to the runner's dinner at the Spaghetti Warehouse, so we planned to go there for dinner to carb up even though we both generally do not like all of the commotion at those events.  Happily, it turned out that it was just like eating in a restaurant; not one big party room buffet or anything.  If Bill had known, he probably would have gone ahead and joined us instead of ducking back into his hotel room to indulge in leftover chocolate chip cookies for his evening meal.  He claims that cookies are "nutritious" though.    As soon as we walked into the Spaghetti Warehouse, Malcolm immediately noticed two Ethiopian runners (one of whom won the marathon on Sunday) sitting off by themselves at a back table.  I tried to check out what they were eating, thinking that maybe if I eat like a top runner the night before, that'll give me a competitive edge but... alas, they were too far away to see if the "secret" was the marinara or meat sauce.  *sigh*  If only.... 

The rest of the evening was spent getting things ready to race in the morning and trying to sleep.  Fireworks started going off at 10:30 PM and then people (who obviously weren't RUNNING the dang thing in the morning) started ringing COWBELLS down our hotel hallway, giggling and laughing, obviously preparing for cheering runners on the next day from the sidelines.    Made for a tough night and I think that I only had about two hours of sleep total.  Pulled it together though and donning my "lucky" British flag necklace, we made a mad dash down to the starting line with very few incidents (if you don't count people who get in Malcolm's way while he's vying for a "good spot" lining up in the crowd!! )  Watch out if you're a slow poke and half-asleep!!

At the starting line...the excitement of race day!!

The start of the marathon was awesome.  The weather was PERFECT for a marathon distance - overcast and probably around 50 degrees.  Based on my previous race results, Malcolm and I had decided to go out at a conservative pace to avoid blowing up the end of the marathon as we had in Columbus by going out too hard.  I breezed through the first 13 miles (the toughest, most hilly part of the course) at around an 8:50 pace, and was not even breathing hard.  It felt so easy and I told Malcolm that I thought that I was going to have a VERY good race.  Malcolm was encouraged that I only lost right under 20 seconds on the BIG hill, going up into Oakland.

I felt strong, had tapered my mileage down correctly, had carbed up and hydrated well, and had even trained my long runs in the mornings to get my body used to morning racing.  Everything was going in my favor.  I took an energy Gu at mile 7 and mile 13.  Malcolm was carrying a water bottle for me and I had been careful to drink from it often.  My splits were right on pace for a 3:50 marathon finish (my goal, with just under 4:00 if I had "a really bad day," acc. to Malcolm) and were as follows:  7.1 mile marker = 1:01:40, 14.7 mile marker = 2:10:30.

The crowd support was also TREMENDOUS.  SO many folks were out in the Strip District and all up through Oakland.  It was, without a doubt, the friendliest marathon in which I've run.  Around Station Square (mile 9 or so?) I saw Natalie from my old church, there to root on her husband who was running the half-marathon (and finished under 2:30 - go Gary!) and she called out to us.  Around that time, someone also called out to the runners, "Hey, looking GOOD!!" and one of the guys running by me shouted back - "It's early yet...give us TIME!!"    I got a good laugh out of that one.  We also saw "Cliff," Malcolm's new business partner, running around 13 miles; he was doing one leg of the 4-leg relays.

So all was well with the world and all of my hard training was paying off...coming together on this very important day.  OR SO I THOUGHT.  Suddenly, right around mile 14....right when Malcolm told me that the worst was behind us.....right when a guy next to me commented, "It's a whole new race now...no more hills!!".....that's right when I felt as though the life had been sucked out of me.  A cool wave of nausea swept over me and my pace immediately dropped to 9:30s.  Malcolm asked what was wrong and I had no idea.  I told him that I felt nauseated and had no energy.  I could feel blisters forming on the insides of my shoes by my big toes even though I had vaselined them so well that morning.  Malcolm told me to just keep running and that it should clear up in a mile or two.  Encouraged by that thought, I pressed on as hard as I could.

It didn't get better.  Around 14 miles, we had been passed by the 3:50 pace group.  They breezed by me.  I was watching my expected finish time cruise right on by and I couldn't go any faster.  Nothing was working right.  I said a few prayers and kept going.

The middle miles were awful.  Malcolm kept saying that he couldn't figure it out...couldn't figure out why I was running so poorly or had died so instantly like that.  I wondered if the flu had depleted my reserves or something.   I had dropped about 3 pounds the week before the race, but did my best to make up for it the final 3 days...  I have never felt so tired, so suddenly, and so soon on any of the training runs - and we had run most of the marathon course many times, including the hills.  By mile 20.8, my time was 3:12:15 (my pace had dropped to 10:15 average for those miles since 14.7 when I was on an 8:50 pace and felt great.  I was SO frustrated.  My pace was pathetic, I had trained so hard, and my body chooses this day to not cooperate with it all??  Malcolm had also realized that this wasn't going to get any better for me.  He told me to just let him know if I wanted to "bag it" for the day and save myself to go run a different marathon in a few weeks to get the time I was capable of running.  I didn't feel right about giving up in Pittsburgh, particularly since this was the ten-year anniversary of when I had nearly died of internal bleeding/kidney failure on the course before.  But MAN, was it hard to keep plodding along at a snail's pace knowing all the while that even seeing the finish line time would be no consolation.  I began to realize that my time might even be worse than Cleveland's (4:13 finish) a year prior, even though I was by far, a better runner at this point.  How depressing.

In fact, the entire scene was so sad that it was almost comical.  Malcolm started to WALK again by my side because he was having all kinds of pain and he even stopped to talk to people who recognized him and shouted out his name from the sidewalks.  I laughed as he eventually resorted to picking up discarded, unopened Gu packets from the road, just in case "Annie needs some more energy."    So sweet, and yeah, the answer was "YES" - Ann needs more energy but um, a packet of Gu ain't gonna cut it, darlin'.  Nice gesture though.  The crowd support was fantastic during this area as well...and if people weren't clapping and doing their jobs, Malcolm TOLD them to get with it - and they actually obeyed.  *shrugs*  Whatever works.  A lot of the women in this area were out there seemingly to cheer for the other WOMEN - and notably NOT for the men.  One African American lady got right up beside me and started running by me, shouting, "I see you, sista....I see you....you keep going...you got this....you a winner...!!"  She was awesome and I'll never forget her!

During the last 6 miles or so, we were being passed by others in our training group, some of whom were normally well behind me during the shorter marathon prep races and training runs.  They were blowing by me and surprised to see me moving like molasses.  Most were quite supportive and asking if I was OK??  Well, yes and no.  It did work out well though, as Malcolm got to motivate/encourage them for awhile during the actual race itself, and I know that helped them immensely (at least judging from the "thank you" emails Malcolm has been receiving since the race).  It was not pleasant to be passed by the 4:00 marathon pace group sometime around mile 22 or so though.

On a funny note - some runners at this point recognized Malcolm and saw him walking.  They thought that he was RACING the marathon or something and was dying out there, so they started trying to encourage HIM to keep moving - "Good job, Malcolm...hang in there...you can do it!"    He just shrugged it off.  Then there was the "other camp" who has been following his race times lately and they thought that he had already finished and ran back to get me...

I kept having memories/flashbacks of the hellish run there 10 years ago.  It was troublesome, really.  Then at mile 24, we saw a guy collapsed at the side of the road, with an ambulance there and his legs elevated above his heart.  They had a water bottle in his mouth and were giving him fluids.  Oh geez.  What a sight.  I began to think about my kidneys as we were running downhill at that point and I was also having lower back pain because of it.  Just as we rounded the corner, there was a huge red-and-white billboard advertisement.  I couldn't believe it.  In huge white letters, it red: "KIDNEY FAILURE?"    I pointed it out to Malcolm and he just groaned.  "THIS MARATHON COURSE MOCKS ME," I thought to myself.  And I'm NOT going to let it win.    No sirree.  Even back in 1999, I still finished this race in spite of my kidneys shutting down, and the docs estimated that I began to bleed internally around mile 7 when I stopped sweating.  I was severely dehydrated and anemic as well...and I still finished.  I ran for 5 hours and 13 minutes that year and at least this year wouldn't be anywhere near as bad of a finish time as that race had been.  I was trying to think of ANYTHING positive that I could just to keep pushing and I heard Malcolm reminding me to "...just stay focused..."

As we wrapped up the race and ran into the Strip District (mile 25 - horrible food smells made me gag), I told Malcolm that I was running terribly (as if he hadn't noticed - my pace per mile from 20.8 to the finish was around a 12:00 min/mile pace) and I asked if he still loved me anyway?  He was nothing but reassuring and told me that he knows that I'm better than I was performing that day...and even if I wasn't, it wouldn't matter to him in the least.    That made me feel pretty darned happy.

I remember a woman who had finished the marathon coming back to shout support to those of us who were still suffering out there.  She yelled to me, "The 26-mile marker is at the NEXT stoplight - not this one, but the next!!"  That kind of commentary really helps a runner focus and I appreciated that so much.

As we rounded the corner, I sped up as much as I could to the finish line.  It wasn't much, but I didn't throw up and I never stopped...never walked any of the 26.2 miles.  I reached out for Malcolm's hand as we approached the finish line, and then I felt Malcolm put his left arm around my shoulders in support (WHAT a guy!):

My "official" (chip) time was 4:17:08, or an average of 9:49 minutes/mile pace.  Not great based on my previous performances, and especially bad given that I was expecting to run about 26 minutes faster than that, but what's done is done.  I tend to be too hard on myself.  Someone told me recently that the average female marathon time is now around 4:45, and the average for men AND women combined is around 4:25.  Small consolation and still frustrating given how much better shape I am in now than when I ran Columbus in 4:03, but I forget that even running 26.2 miles AT ALL is a pretty big deal regardless.  *shrugs*

Right after we crossed the finish line, I stopped to walk and stumbled into Malcolm.  Like lightning, medics came rushing over with a stretcher.  Malcolm pushed them away, telling them that "...she's fine, she's fine...she just needs to keep walking..."  He later explained that he didn't understand how bad it was and he just didn't want them to trigger all of the bad memories from the last Pittsburgh marathon.  And besides, he had a little "something special" planned and waiting as a finish line surprise for me...

Nevertheless, I suddenly felt a cool, clammy sensation sweep across my forehead and saw black spots creeping into my vision.  Malcolm said that my eyes rolled back into my head and the next thing I remember, they had me on the stretcher and were wheeling me into the makeshift hospital at the finish line.  They weren't going to allow Malcolm to accompany me at first, and I heard him arguing with them, saying, "I'm going to marry her and I'm coming with her!!"  I was laying on the stretcher calling Malcolm's name and they assured me that he was "right over there."  Eventually, they let him join me once they had me covered up in blankets and had asked some questions/took my blood pressure.  They propped my feet up on a cardboard box and told me to keep flexing my ankles up and down.  The nurse was really nice and I remember her telling me to try to relax and "...go into that quiet place in your head where you go when you run..."  I looked down at my right foot and asked why my shoe was red?  Apparently, one of those blisters had burst open during the run and stained right through my shoe.  They ripped my sock off (OWWWW.....) and cleaned it out/bandaged the foot, wrapping it up and tucking it into this little blue booty (nice souvenir).  Check out the left foot blister that DIDN'T pop:

Now THAT'S sexy.  If anyone had a foot fetish, I'd say you're cured now!!    Next, some medical assistant started giving me PowerAde and fed me a banana plus half of a Smiley Cookie (the purple kind...my favorite color).  I kept telling everyone that I would be fine and just needed to get out of there but they wouldn't let me go.  I saw Malcolm talking in hushed tones to the doc in charge and got a little bit worried.  Trying to maintain control, I started demanding that Malcolm go back outside and get me my medal, dang it!  I had worked hard for that little sucker and we never even made it to the medal section before they had whisked me away!!  Realizing that I wasn't going to let it go, Malcolm finally obliged.  The medal itself looks exactly like this:

Finally, I was aware of my surroundings enough to look around and notice the others.  I saw Tim, a great runner (finished in 2:40 something!!), all crouched in a corner with a blanket, shaking violently.  As it turns out, temps were in the mid 50s and with the light rain and heavy physical exertion, hypothermia was a huge problem that day.  Tim didn't look very good and he had already been in there for over an hour and a half...  I guess I looked pretty sad too just laying there, but hey - they let me keep the nice, warm fleece blanket, courtesy of the American Red Cross!! (souvenir #2!)

After about 30 minutes, I was released from the medical center, supposedly to hobble back to the hotel.  Since I had stopped running so abruptly and fell onto the stretcher at the finish, my legs had stiffened up so much that I could hardly walk.  They offered a wheelchair, but I didn't want one.  My pride was still somewhat intact, after all....until we reached the curb and I stared at it forlornly, unable to step down off of it onto the street.  I basically had to be picked up and placed down onto the lower level.  And we're talking a curb less than half of a foot high...  OH my.  All I could think about was that I really should be eating some carbs by then to recover and I wanted one of those Panera Cinnamon Crunch bagels that they had at the finish line...  As I was wandering around kind of lost and out of it, watching others finish the race, I saw that Malcolm was talking to someone.  I hoped that it would not be a long conversation as I still felt dizzy and nauseated....but was craving that dang bagel.  I felt helpless to walk over to try to find the bagel tent on my own, so I was just hanging out, zoning out.

It was THAT moment that Malcolm decided to get me on television...by....popping THE question and presenting an engagement ring that I didn't know I would be getting.  KDKA News caught it all on camera...including my low blood sugar-induced, now infamous, "BAGEL" commentary.  *shaking head*  Click on this link to see the news coverage of the entire proposal:

http://kdka.com/video/?id=56960@kdka.dayport.com

The Tribune Review also interviewed us and did a nice article in the newspaper the next day:

http://www.pittsburghlive.com/x/pittsburghtrib/lifestyles/fitness/s_623494.html

They also called one of the professional marathon photographers at the last minute, telling him to get down to the finish line because "...some guy is going to propose to his girlfriend and there's a story..."  Poor guy dropped his breakfast and rushed down to the finish line to make my expected 3:50 arrival....and waited....and waited....and waited....  Ooops.  Anyway, he was surprised to learn that "the guy" was actually Malcolm and since he followed Malcolm's running career in the 80's, he wanted to give us prints of the photos that he shot, free of charge.  We're waiting on those, but he did forward this digital image of the proposal and I'd say it's pretty great.  I love the look on Malcolm's face.  And gee, if he can take me looking like a crippled human burrito, I guess he really IS in it - for better or for worse...

Malcolm gave me a beautiful sapphire and diamond ring...

...but it was far too large for my baby fingers - size 4.5.  They couldn't resize it down enough, so we are making it into a pendant, since he also gave me the matching earrings.  Then we bought this white gold engagement ring for the journey (just lovely!):

I spent the rest of the week recuperating and resting - all while trying to hold down a huge caseload at work.  Apparently a whole heck of a lot of people saw the news and so there have been many congratulatory calls.  Little did they know that the excitement of the week had not yet ended for us...

On Friday, May 8th, Malcolm accompanied me to my work-related training conference and then at 3 PM, we were LEGALLY MARRIED before the Justice of the Peace.  We had been planning this for awhile, so the big surprise after the marathon was that I would be getting an engagement ring.  It may sound silly, but the reason for the "rush" was because Malcolm has been without medical insurance for way, WAY too long and it drives me crazy.  He has had a staph infection, a car accident, and was HIT by a car while running in the Strip District recently, not to mention the fact that his left knee is basically "bone on bone" and will ultimately need to be replaced.  Running with me for 4+ hours really beat him up too.  Soooo....rather than risk it, we decided to go ahead and "make it official" now and have him covered for the first of June.  Practical, but kind of a lot of stress in one week's time.  My friend, Jane Ann, stood as our witness in the 4-minute exchange of what turned out to be our "I will's."  Jane Ann also served as our impromptu photographer and snapped a few shots of the newlyweds.  AND how cool is it that my new initials are: "A.C.E."????? 

All's well that ends well.  But this is just the beginning for us.  Next week, we are headed to England and Scotland for two weeks vacation.  This trip was scheduled last year, back when we were "just friends."  Yet as it turns out, we will be traveling now as "Mr. and Mrs. East!" to go meet my new in-laws.  We will have a vicar there "bless" our marriage in a small ceremony for family and friends in a 400+ year-old church and then have a nice, intimate dinner.  Malcolm's mother is terminally ill with cancer and his father is also in failing health, so we have to make the most of the time that we are given, don't we?  Still don't know what I'll be wearing for that wedding.  Then on August 8th, we will have a small ceremony/reception here (I'm getting THE COOLEST custom-designed cake topper!!! can't wait) for close family and friends.  My good friend, Carl, will officiate and also bless the union.  Then it's off to Cedar Point for some good ol' roller coastering!!!    Now THAT'S my style....

Anyway, Malcolm deeply misses his country and there is some possibility that we will eventually move to England, but not yet.  There will be a great need for quality coaches with the 2012 Olympics being held in London, and he has amazing job offers from the British Athletic Association all of the time.  I'm not sure how things will play out, and not everything looks just right "on paper" in this relationship, but somehow I feel quite content and peaceful anyway.  That's unusual for me.  If I don't like England, Malcolm says that he can't ask me to move there and will be fine living in the States.  If I do, well....who knows?  Life is always an adventure and almost nothing turns out how we had planned.  But sometimes, things turn out BETTER than we had even dreamed...

...You just have to keep on moving and accept whatever comes your way.  Maybe you won't like it - or maybe you will - but above all, you must ACCEPT it...let go....and let God.  For better OR for worse!!

I'll close (finally ) with this audio clip by Rod Stewart, "You're the Star."  Malcolm picked it out for me back when we were "just friends" (and he was hoping against hope for more), and now it has kind of become "our song"......

This one (Rod Stewart - "I Don't Want To Talk About It") USED to have more meaning for us back when I was keeping us "just friends," but hey - things change...sometimes for the better... and after all, it still IS a great tune!!  Too bad our August Rod Stewart concert was just canceled.    Again, you take the good, you take the bad...

Shine on and keep moving!!

 ~ "ACE" ~

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”
- 1 Corinthians 13: 4-7

"Turkey Tales"

Ooooh Hoo HooOooOOoOOoo!!!  I am SO excited right now!!  I squeezed my 6-miler in late last night after work so that I could get up early this morning and bake my special Fruit-Nut Pumpkin bread for Thanksgiving breakfast.  It was beautiful and so hushed/tranquil running in the snow like that at night - absolutely magical!!   Malcolm seemed amused by the fact that he has a little running buddy to cream with airborne snowballs during the winter running months now.  He took full advantage of me being an easy target and I was a good sport about it - UNTIL he nearly lopped off my head from behind with one that was far, FAR too large.    I threatened to withhold his Thanksgiving dinner, so he promptly gave up.  You just have to know what strings to pull, I guess. 

Anyway, about this bread - it's going to be so delicious!!  I've never tried the recipe before but I can smell it baking right now and I just can't wait to share it!!  It even comes with the matching cream cheese recipe (cranberries, nuts and sugar in the spread)!  It has pumpkin and spices, raisins (regular and the golden kind), dried cranberries and walnuts.  I love nuts.  If reincarnation turns out to be real, I'm going to request that I get to come back as a squirrel.  Come to think of it, I've already been accused of being a bit "squirrely" from time to time anyway, so I think that would be a good fit for me.    Not that anyone is necessarily asking my opinion on that...

Okay, well about this big meal that I'm making (for *ahem* only TWO people).  I went out and bought a 21-pound turkey this weekend and I'm going to be very careful about making sure that I baste it properly so that it doesn't dry out.  I have never made stuffing from scratch before, but I'm trying that too.  Some nice ladies in the grocery store took pity on me when I showed them the recipe, calling for 6 cups of "day old" (um, how do I know when the bread was actually created??? do they have 'birthdates' somewhere on these loaves or something??? ) wheat bread and 6 cups of (AGAIN!!) "day old" white bread.  The two women asked if I had ever made stuffing myself before and I confessed to complete and total cluelessness.  They went on and on and said that the "secret" to good stuffing is FRESH parsley - and lots of it.  I was thrilled to find this out as the recipe DID in fact, call for the FRESH stuff, but I was just going to use my dried parsley, thinking that it didn't really matter anyway.  Armed with this "insiders scoop," I felt a wee bit more confident weaving through the crowded store aisles....  I am supposed to put the stuffing into a slow-cooker after I fix it up and so after the turkey is in the oven, I can get out for a nice Thankgiving Day run before prepping the rest of the food.  I'm nervous about the stuffing though.

I am also making: Gravy (obviously), Twice Baked Potatoes, Sweet Potato Casserole, Corn Casserole, Green Bean Casserole, Broccoli and Cauliflower with Cheese Sauce, Sugar Snap Peas (we like veggies), Cranberry Sauce, Italian Bread with Garlic and Basil Oils for dipping, and Apple Crisp (from scratch!! heehee) with Vanilla Bean Ice Cream!!

Oh - haha!! And speaking of "Beans," check out this video clip that Malcolm emailed me yesterday!!  I had never even HEARD of "Mr. Bean" - yeah, I know - I've been living under a rock somewhere or something...  I laughed and laughed at this clip:

On a slightly less appetizing note (and curiously in line with the poultry images above ), I have my annual gyne appt. this upcoming Tuesday morning.  As fate would have it, the dining room table that I just found and ordered, WON'T be here in time for Thanksgiving.  It will be in next Tuesday though, and since Malcolm has off of work that day and Rob offered to let me use his SUV to transport the table and chairs home, poor, POOR Malcolm has to go WITH me to the gyne and sit in the waiting room.  As if the tampon-toting marathon were not already enough to last for the rest of the year, now THIS.  But logistics necessitate tolerance of my feminine needs, I suppose.    We'll leave the appt. and drive together to work, where he will take Rob's SUV and run the table home....then drive it back to the office.....AND then literally "RUN" home (about an 8-mile trek).  I do believe that if the man wants to use me for "target practice" in the snow, I should cut him a break, don't you think???  It's a small price to pay.

Anyway - check out my new table HERE!!  I love it - AND I talked the salesman down a full 25% off of the sticker price...and that's AFTER he told me that he had absolutely NO leverage to "Houdini" any discounts for me at all.    Live and learn.  I don't ever trust salespeople anymore.  Well, except for good ol' "Dr. M."  I suppose that there are always exceptions...

I'll close with a lovely little emailed reminder that plunked into my Inbox this week.  Sure made me think.  I have SO much for which to be grateful.... AND I have a hunch that SO DO YOU...  I'm going to read this tonight at the beginning of my family therapy group.  Maybe it will help someone put it all into perspective.  Worth a try, anyway.  *shrugs*

"I AM THANKFUL"

So true, isn't it??  It's all in how you choose to view your world.  Make the best of it and always remember that someone else is much worse off than you might be this holiday season.  That's wisdom.

Well, I have to go retrieve my special bread creation from the oven before it turns crispy.  Wish me luck with this Thanksgiving feast!!!  Hey, if I screw it all up and it tastes terrible, at least I tried.  But more importantly, at least I had friends who love me enough to eat it anyway....and probably even GRIN while bearing it too!!  Enjoy yourselves this holiday...

Live Well & Laugh Often!

 ~Ann~

"Dancing With the Devil"

Well, gang...  It has been one creepy week for WickeDarling here...  Somehow, I thought that Halloween had passed - at least judging from the arsenal of Thanksgiving recipes that are currently lining my countertops...

It all started out early in the work week.  Although I continue to remind myself that I am lucky to even HAVE a job, particularly considering the current state of the American economy (SO many people have it much worse than I do - REALLY), I have been plagued by a gnawing sense of restlessness for quite a few weeks now.  I've been here before - nothing all that new.  This too shall pass and I know that I am where I am for good reason - I have confirmation of my gifts in this area pretty regularly - BUT in addition to the usual stress of dealing with my little delinquent kiddos, it would seem that very poor decisions are being made in my organization regarding basic nonprofit structuring.

To sum it all up, the "powers that be" have added yet another layer of management to the mix, and we were already top-heavy before.  Therapists on the front line have not had enough clinical support for years, but now they have added a full-time supervisor at our site who as far as I can tell, is really not providing any additional assistance.  If anything, he is complicating matters further by micromanaging in order to justify his full-time status and shifting MORE responsibility to his underlings (read: Mwah) than was even present before.  We are now required to spend so much time EXPLAINING ourselves and "consulting" regarding cases in staff meetings ("...none of us is as dumb as ALL of us..." ) that we have even LESS time to actually deal with the clients.  Add to this the ever-changing managed care paperwork and authorization review procedures....the proverbial bureaucratic "red tape" that characterizes most larger nonprofits....the ridiculous "trainings" that we must attend to satisfy state and federal regulations (read: lose yet another 8 hours in the office and have to make it up elsewhere during the week by working late)....the "voluntary-but-not-really" Friday night company Christmas gala....the denial of even something as basic as a staff-requested water cooler - but then spending gobs of money on new promotional brochures to "make us look good" and sending out memos to exhausted (& dehydrated - heh) employees to "wear your smiles" and "dress to the nines" for the time-consuming brochure photo shoot - all while our desks are stacked with paperwork, our phones are ringing off the hooks with angry patients and panicking families....

As if all of this were not bad enough, employees are not given Christmas Eve off of work, so as it stands now (I'm protesting - trust me ), I will be expected to proceed with family night treatment group as scheduled for Wednesdays - ON Christmas Eve - and will be allowed to wrap up group at 9:00 PM that evening.  Wowwee.  That means that I can leave work a FULL 15 minutes earlier than the usual 9:15 PM quitting time.  Granted, until 2 months ago, the "usual" workday ran only until 9:00 PM, but that was before some managed care company decided that they would not pay for the 15-minute break that we HAVE to take during the course of a 3-hour group.  It is pretty much impossible to go without a break when dealing with a bunch of rowdy ODD, PTSD, ADHD (and whatever other "ABCDE" diagnosis you want to throw in there - their charts read like alphabet soup) kids, most of whom refuse to take their prescribed meds because they don't want to be "artificially happy" (yeah, but pass the heroin rig, please ), especially when they are already forced to be there by external motivating forces (courts, probation, school, CYF, parents, etc.)...  Anyway, my organization saw fit to hush up that insurance company by extending our workdays by 15 minutes/day - AND that's all with no extra compensation or flex-time "perks" - nothing, nada, zip.  Although it is true that we ARE salaried, all that seems to mean anymore is that they don't have to pay us for overtime hours - BUT if we need to leave early or come in later, we still have to deduct that 1/2 hour or an hour off of our timecards???  Hm.  I guess that a real case could be made for why it would be best for me to be paid on an hourly basis at this point.  "Salaried," my (ugly runner's) foot!! 

All in all, I guess that you could say that employee morale has taken a turn for the worst.  As in NOSE DIVE.  At least we know that the insanity in the office can't "drive us to drinking," as we are urine screened regularly right along with the clients we serve.    I laughed as a disgruntled coworker speculated that he now no longer worries about Obama being the "Antichrist," because there is a "new sheriff in town" (i.e. our supervisor could sure give Satan a run for his money).

Anyway, I had been coping pretty well with all of the changes (anticipating a "case of the Mondays"  and realizing the importance of keeping a sense of humor through it all, I watched my Netflix DVD - "Office Space" - TWICE last Sunday night), until I was blasted with a series of chillingly dark and unusually serious client circumstances, one right after the other, during the early part of the week.  I'm sorry, but no matter how many times I hear the gory details as I try to help these young girls debrief after their abortions, it makes me physically ill.  For some odd reason, my new admission AND a current patient both came to me with similar stories all within the course of two days.  Double whammy.  I just never know what is going to come across my desk in any given day....including THIS little gem (listen to clip below), turned in by one of my little devils midweek (no genuine identifying information included - no worries).  SO comforting.  WHAT is happening to us????

Sweet, huh?    You just never know how black the heart might be that beats within that smiling person next to you...  Then the week got even better.   I put in a maintenance request regarding my heat and asked that the apartment manager come anytime AFTER 11 AM, so that I would be sure to be at work.  Well, Malcolm and I ran Thursday morning and when he left, I jumped in the shower and didn't use the chain on the door.  After drying my hair, I exited the bathroom in my (half-closed-half-open  robe), and YOWSAHS.  There is "Bob" - the apartment manager standing in my hallway.  Talk about an uncomfortable moment.  I quickly changed and got out of there, muttering something about not expecting him to arrive until AFTER 11 AM (it was 10:15 AM when I started drying my hair and all I can think is that he came in sometime during that interval - but I couldn't hear him).  What bothers me most is that he PLAYED DUMB and said, "Oh - so you ARE home..." (um, as if he couldn't hear my blow dryer and me clunking around in the bathroom while I was getting ready).  He noted that both my car and Malcolm's were still here so he had "...wondered if maybe you were around and out running or having coffee with Malcolm..."    Well, then why the heck didn't he try to CALL me or once he realized that I was still home/he was there early - LEAVE and come back another time??  He didn't even call out to me when my hair dryer stopped and let me leave the bathroom not even knowing that he was in my apartment.  Good thing I was wearing something.  My goodness.    Then he offered again to help me hang my heavy mirror but Malcolm said that if he is going to insist on doing it himself because of the walls, that I should wait until Malcolm can be there WITH me to do that.  I hate to be paranoid, but c'mon.  What just kills me is that I didn't even have time to rig my underwear drawer before I left him in my apartment to make sure that no one was rifling through on some perverted pleasure trip.    This kind of stuff happening is the only real reason that I would really like to live in a house of my own someday...  It's uncomfortable and just dead WRONG.

So then on Thursday night, I managed 4 hours of sleep after arriving home super-late due to outstanding paperwork...  On Friday morning, I drove for an hour to attend a conference on Hypnosis (as if that's going to help MY clients - can you imagine?? "...alright....now put down your Glock so that you can relax your arms....that's right....now picture yourself lying on a raft in the middle of the ocean....").  Give me a break.  I don't know what it is with me lately, but I seem to see Satan in EVERYONE anymore.  As I suspiciously eyed the very goofy presenter, I wondered if he realized how much he resembled someone that NO ONE should ever want to mimic.  The man had a dark brown, smooth haircut and one of those thick, squarish moustaches....  I looked over at a bleary-eyed Rob (who had actually been called into the office at 2:30 AM - "on call" - to execute an inpatient admission the night before) who was now practically drooling in a trancelike state into his PowerAde, and informed him that I would have been tempted to ask our presenter to hypnotize me into running like Paula Radcliffe - if only I didn't suspect that he was in some way related to Adolf Hitler. 

Well, after the conference, I proceeded to yet another happy place - the DMV.    I always just love how DMVers LOVE their jobs...  They usually give new meaning to words like "sullen," "postal," (as in GOING there) and "femi-nazi."  *sigh*  Regardless, I needed an updated drivers license, complete with my maiden name AND the new address, so.... so be it.  What a way to spend a Friday afternoon.  I was actually able to warm up the mean and grumpy old man who took my photo for the camera card, and after I had sufficiently injected him with dry wit, he was easily persuaded to take FOUR headshots from which I could choose...  I was victorious and now actually have an updated drivers license photo in which I do NOT appear drunk or otherwise mentally compromised.  He said that he thinks that mug would get me out of any ticket "...unless it's a female cop..."  heh    We shall see.  Just in case my new handy-dandy photo ID doesn't work in my favor out on the road, I made sure to get the camera operator's first name....

It was . . . "Damian."    Go figure.

I couldn't believe it.  What a fitting end to one freaky week.

All of this reminds me of a blog I posted last summer.  It would appear that my little antennae have been twitching relative to the "masks" people wear for quite awhile now.  Click HERE  to access.

Better watch yourself out there...

  ~Little Red Riding Hood~ 

"...Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.  Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that your brothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of sufferings..."  - 1 Peter 5:8-9