My Boston happens to be in Chicago

Date: Sometime in November 2018

CT: "I think we should be done with marathons."
Me: "That's a wonderful idea! Yeah, marathons are too much. Too much training, too hard on our bodies. I'm good with us not doing them anymore."

One week after that conversation, open my email to find "Congratulations! You've been accepted into the Chicago Marathon!" WTF?

Me: "Honey, why did a get a message from the Chicago Marathon?"
CT: "Merry Christmas!"

Here I stand, a little less than a year later. One of forty five thousand other runners, but doubtful that any of them were secretly signed up by their spouse...after coming to a mutual decision with that same spouse, to be done doing marathons! Hey, something has to make you stand out in a group this big, here's my story.

This story begins even further back than our conversation. It really began mid April 2018 where I had attempted to run a Boston qualifying time. I missed the official cutoff time by like two minutes, realistically, it was probably more like five minutes to guarantee entry. While certainly close, after that day I decided that I'd never be able to qualify for Boston. That was my best effort and doubted I could replicate, let alone improve it. In a way, it was the day my Boston dream died. While that sounds depressing, I'm fine with it. While it would be cool to say that I did Boston for the status level it implies, I've got no problem riding on CT's laces (coat-tails) for her experience of doing Boston.

While I didn't qualify for Boston, unknown to me, I did run a qualifying time to guarantee entry into Chicago. Unlike Boston, a normal runner (or anybody) can enter Chicago, the difference is after the elites, the talented people with time qualifiers, the rest of the field is entered into a lotto system. While I could always attempted to enter Chicago this way, there's always the chance I wouldn't get in. Well, my marathon time guaranteed me and CT knew this. Hence, surprise! She entered me. She did know it was on my Bucket List, but this wasn't a list item I had to do, it was only if the opportunity came up and I decided to do it. She took care of that part.

This is my Boston. It's my first BIG marathon, so of course the sheer size and scale of things are vastly different. The experience is a bit overwhelming, but not for that exact reason. Even though found out about this adventure almost a year in advance, trying to book a hotel even back then, prices were already ridiculous. I didn't help myself and do any favors attempting to relieve some of that stress from myself.  Three days prior, still hadn't booked a room, because I'm cheap. Debated staying outside of town, taking a train I've never tried before, planned how the logistics of that would play out. Ended up getting super stressed about it to the point didn't even want CT to come with me because worried about attempting new things like this. All the while not knowing how they'd work out, adding the fear of leaving her alone by herself for hours as I ran. Then add the stress of knowing physically I really wasn't as prepared for a marathon as I'd like to be on top of everything else. For the record, I didn't enter this experience how I should have, the majority of this is all my fault, and it tarnished my overall mental state and experience. Hence, for my (what I hope) last big, Bucket List, marathon, I screwed up.

I did end up taking a second mortgage and booking a room a couple blocks from the start. My start time for my wave was 7:30. At 6:20, left the hotel and started my walk to the start. Security is factor, so there wasn't any point for CT to accompany me because she wouldn't be allowed anywhere near the starting line. Figured in my head about a ten minute walk to the gate, thirty minutes to get in the zone, twenty to drop my bag off, and leaving about 10 minutes to get lined up. Small marathon thinking.

6:30, in line for the gate. At 7:00, I wasn't even to the security checkpoint, even more anxiety. I barely starting the climb up the stairs to the checkpoint, but at least began tripping on the absurd amount of plastic bottles and trashed dumped. 7:10, finally to security and finding out the reason of the root cause of so much trash, airline type security concerns over liquids. While, we didn't have to remove our shoes, this "security show" was something else. I was pretty much convinced I was missing the start of my wave and already began texting CT and parents I was missing the start. On a day when I knew it would be difficult to do the whole twenty six point two, I was now in a full sprint to find the bag drop. Unlike every other race that I've done, this event is a campus. I swear it was easily a half mile to the bag drop. I really had planned to make final changes to my gear setup with all my time to spare in my normal chill time before the start. Instead it was practically flinging my gear bag at some poor volunteer as I changed course in full sprint to find the starting corral. So much for a short sleeve shirt and the extra GU. With about 10 minutes to spare, made it to my starting location.

It was cool hearing the elites announced. Had time to text CT and tell her who she'd be able to see. She texted back with a perfect picture showing me where she'd be watching for me, under the iconic Chicago Theater sign. Originally planned not to run with my phone, but in the rush, it's another thing that was forgotten about, but kind of glad I did, simply for this reason. Whooooosh goes the starting gun!

Just a mob of people, interesting smells from being underground, is really all that I remember. Couldn't concentrate on any one part for more than second for fear of getting trampled, so this is what ADD feels like? About a mile and a half in, turned on State Street, instantly could see the Chicago Theater sign and adjusted my path so I'd be as close to as I could. Funny thing, must have run a good mile before I actually reached the sign though, it did stand out though. There she was! I honestly never expected to ever be able to see CT on the course, let alone her being able to spot me in the swarm of people. While still very early in the race, it felt a bit like mission accomplished and eased my mind a bit.

The number of people, is a bit mind boggling and that's really what I'll walk away from this experience with. With almost any race I've ever done, at a certain point, the people around you becomes constant. Whether it's a PR type pace, the same person you are chasing at mile thirteen is the same one at twenty six, generally. Or if it's a struggle kind of race, that guy you just passed at the water stop, he's going to be passing you when you die out and need a break, and for the remaining miles it's that same pattern back and forth. Today, never see the same person for more than a couple minutes. It's a odd feeling to constantly be passed the entire time. Granted, I knew I wasn't going to blow the doors off with a PR, but also knew I wasn't going to put down my worst time (at least I hoped not). Mentally, it did mess with me some. Not that I was planning on carrying on a conversation, but it felt odd to never have the same people around for periods of time, organized chaos.

Somewhere around mile nine, seeing a full SWAT platoon with an arsenal of  weapons and their armor personal vehicle made a bit of an impression. They weren't out cheering, they were clearly there to be deployed if some event happened. While a saw a small taste of that spectating CT's Boston experience, this was a reminder that all of us really are good targets.

The halfway point brought us back almost to where we started before sending us out west of the city. Tried not to check my pace based on my watch the whole time. In the early miles it reads screwy anyway. Coming up to the timing mat, it was almost as if somebody knew, because my favorite song comes blaring from the sound system, the energy of the crowd seeming to cheer even more, could feel my body itching to pick up the pace. Won't say it didn't for a bit in this section, pace was right about where I predicted I'd be. Did have to fight a bit with myself because with the adrenaline surge, I really wanted to run a bit harder. I did talk myself out of it knowing the hardest miles were coming and I wasn't prepared to push more and I'd be lucky to maintain this pace.

Mile eighteen was the tipping point. Somewhere in these miles, legs started their tell tale signs of fatigue. This is where I'd normally take that second GU, if I had it. Instead, at a water stop took Gatorade's version of an energy packet. Normally, I'd never mess with something I hadn't done before, but without something knowing how I was feeling and how many miles were left, felt I better try something. Ugh! Hard to say if the results would have been worse, but a half mile after, my stomach did about a 180. This was somewhere in the little Italy section. From here on any fun part of the run was over.

In the early twenties, it was Chinatown. My head wasn't in the game at all during this section. While the crowd support was amazing throughout, I actually thought Chinatown showed more support than the Italian section. Not that it matters or could I base it off anything specific or even if my perception is correct, it did strike me as interesting. Somewhere in here, the pain creeping in combined with lack of sugar or that energy packet messing with me, I started struggling mentally. Took a few breaks in this section to text CT and my parents. Even though I knew I wouldn't be able to do a great time, mixing in everything, was feeling very defeated in these miles. Had plenty of time to chat with CT and find out where she was for the final stretch.

My expectations had built up the final mile to be this great view of the Chicago skyline. Instead, I was running down this dark and windy stretch. It was a bit of a blessing and a curse, tricked into thinking the skyline would be coming into view any second, it was motivation to keep going. When I caught sight of CT and realized how close the finish line was, it was a bit of disappointment of where was my view? Though, I was more than happy to be done crossing the line.

Smaller races will always be my favorite for this reason alone, the finish isn't like this. A few minutes after crossing, it really is like herding cattle. My calves started cramping up something awful. I found an out of the way spot to stop and sit to begin to massage my legs, no sooner did I send CT the text my legs were cramping up pretty bad and it would take me some time to get to her, a volunteer came yelling at me that I had to keep moving. "F*ck You!" I wanted to respond in my big city voice. I didn't, I sucked it up and hobbled another half mile to finally escape the finish chute. Finding another place to finally stop and sit for a minute, my legs were on fire, my stomach felt as if puking was possible, and on top of that, had feelings that a bathroom rush could also happen at any time, meanwhile knowing there wasn't a chance I could rush anywhere quickly. CT of course wanted to see me, I wasn't even sure how to get outside the secure zone yet or even where to tell her to meet me. Finally, decided on back to the hotel. I did get the legs moving enough to get to the gear check, got my bag, before needing to sit again for a while. At this point, I didn't even think I could get back to the hotel. Couldn't have CT come get me. Sure glad I wasn't in "bad shape". No idea how long it took me, but eventually my cramping eased up enough and I made the trek back to the hotel to call it a day. This goes down as feeling the worst after a marathon.

I'm glad I did it. I'm also glad it's done. I'm not sure there's a scenario where I would have had this amazing experience that lasts me a lifetime. That's partially my fault for letting my head put expectations on myself, instead of coming into this whole experience treating it as just for fun. If nothing else, glad I'm finally retired from marathons! 

     

Half Improvement

Time again for what CT and I have decided to call our favorite racing weekend of the year. Our bodies hate us, we leave filthy dirty, but we always have a great time. While the trail stays the same  with all the hills and tons of things to trip on along the way, the best part of the experience is the after party and the excitement of cheering other runners to the finish. Hope we can always attended this weekend.

Last year felt like I put in a very sub par effort. While I was a little banged up going in, it didn't feel like a great performance and that's bugged me this past year. My goal was fairly simple, undo the slowing times trend of the past few years. Other things have gotten in the way of doing trail training, so was only able to put four runs in the woods over the course of two weekends as training for these races. Not as many as I wanted, so wasn't real confident if I'd accomplish my goal.

CT has been struggling with various injuries. Strolling up to the start, she was nervous doing back to back days. I certainly worried about her doing both days. As it turned out, we bumped into Fuel who was watching some friends off for the Ultra. In a couple minutes, we convinced him to take CT's bib and run in place of her. That was a huge relief, I'm not sure who appreciated it more CT or myself. Now, she only has to endure one day of punishment and potential falls and tweaks.

Gave Fuel a brief course overview, not that he needs it, but if he has a good run I can say it helped. Then it was go time. Pew, peeew, goes the starting air horn, not exactly a confidence builder as it sounded as if it were already running out of gas after starting its fourth race of the morning.

While things started out fast, it didn't seem as frantic and thinned out quickly to where it wasn't long before really nobody was around. Fuel stayed within eyesight for about the first mile, after that he was long gone. Without anybody breathing down my neck, I didn't feel pressure to constantly push hard. On the hills, eased back, on the sections that were either flat or down then worked a bit harder. The whole time, did tell myself to conserve a bit just knowing have to do it again tomorrow and also not wanting to burn out.

At about mile eight, caught up to a friend who told me Fuel went blowing by him. My comment back, "He's got zero natural talent, it's all coaching on my part". For some reason that got a laugh from him, not sure why.  It wasn't too long after, caught another group of runners. As I passed, got the comment "Great Form..."! Unusual, but I'll take that as a compliment. Then a slight pause before "for somebody that old!". WTF? Now, I know that wasn't CT that I just passed, but that is exactly something she'd say! My returning comment was, "You sound like my wife". After the finish, the guy who actually made that comment to me came up and apologized (a couple of times), he thought I was somebody else, at least that was his excuse. Told him not to worry about it, it was pretty funny and actually fits right in with the normal comments I get all the time.

Missed my course PR by twenty seconds. Considering I held back some, I'll take it, especially when it was about twelve minutes better than last year's time. Fuel put down an insanely fast time for a first time ever doing the course. CT said when he crossed the line, he didn't even look tired. Hoping he'll do it again next year.

Day two, moving required thought. A couple times prior to the start CT wanted to travel back and forth between the car and where I stopped to sit. She seemed to do that trip at least four times. My ankles said, just once. Her last trip was for an ibuprofen, which as a general rule I avoid prior to a run, but today made an exception because my right calf muscle was screaming. It was already unhappy and it didn't know that a repeat was coming in a few minutes, best to make it forget.

Creeeeeeeek, goes the joints at the sound of the gun. Legs did feel like rubber going up the first big hill and within the first couple miles had numerous close calls with rolling ankles. Each time it was a quick flash back to reality with the thought of better pay more attention to what you're doing, but at the same time knowing ankles are weak from yesterday and there isn't much that can be done.

The mile six hill, that's when my body issued the "I'm tired" warning. Up until that point was trailing a group of three runners who were going at a pretty good pace. Not much after, completely lost sight of them though. Would have liked to make it closer to mile ten before my body started feeling fatigued, but at least ankles, calves, and legs did keep me upright for the whole thing.

Finished a couple minutes slower, but still ten minutes faster than last year's disaster times. I'll take it. CT who hasn't ran more than three miles at one time this whole summer, came in first in her AG and with a time that shouldn't even be possible for somebody who hasn't put hardly any miles training for a half marathon. I would never say anything that could go to her head (so I feel safe saying this here), she is a certified bad-ass. She stresses over everything, but in reality, she's a good all around athlete that it doesn't matter what she does, she's always going to do well at it. It's kind of sickening, when I know it doesn't work that way for me.

Love this weekend! An absolutely horrible restaurant meal with a waitress only offering a shrug to an almost completely uneaten meal, to watching our friend's trick of sitting on butter packet to warm it up for easier spreading (all while probably putting eight packets in her purse for later), to a random stop in a hotel under construction for a super cheap Jacuzzi room (with spiders), five pounds of finisher medals, three AG awards, swag and an all around good time. See you next year!

0:00:00.4 Hair Faster

On the anniversary race for The Ringer, I should have been a hair faster today. Came in second place by four tenths of a second and while not happy about the results, it actually makes for a better story.

CT is by far the more competitive one of the two of us. She's rarely happy with her results and always wants to improve. One year after this race, CT and I were visiting The Ringer and she proceeded to notice that she had a stray hair on her leg (or maybe it was some stubble) and announced "Oh, I should have shaved my legs today, I would have been a hair faster". The pun got The Ringer laughing so hard, it's one of my fondest memories of him and that moment of us together. 

New course this year, but included much of the old course. Haven't been doing any speed work lately and simply warming up, things felt sluggish. Even though it felt like I was doing a disservice to my Orange Crush This PR shoes, they felt better, so it was a last second decision to wear them instead of my normal everyday shoes.

Tick, tick, goes the start of the gun. The usual start with all the kids up front, only multiplied a little worse with more of the bottleneck of the trail to start instead of the road. About a quarter of a mile in hear one ask a friend "Are we about a mile in yet?". That was a signal I'd be passing him soon, but in the back of my head a little voice said "I hear you".

All the tricky spots were here, pavement, to wet grass, to wet plank decking. Mind immediately went to worrying about CT as I almost slipped in a few places and the Orange Crushes felt like they were on ice. Then the bouncy bridge, compounded by the fact it was earlier in the course this year so where it would normally be thinned out more by the time reaching it in years past, this year felt like a couple times my knees were going to hit me in the chin. CT is gonna love this (sarcasm)!

About a mile and half in is when I got passed. Looking, couldn't be positive it he was in my age group or not, but knew it was a danger. My body felt as though it was giving maximum effort, it was already feeling tired, and it wasn't a good idea to attempt to speed up. He didn't really pull away, so at this point we were going at about the same pace. There were a few times the lead probably got twenty or thirty feet. Goal was to keep it within striking distance until the home stretch. In the straight away, pulled almost even at the three mile flag. About that time he heard me coming and started to speed up. Not sure if I could have out kicked him to the end, but the fact he picked up the pace, I decided I didn't want to even try to win cheap at the end, just wanted to see if he'd also speed up and called it a day.

The final results listed a 0:00:00.4 difference between us. To date, that has to be closest race I've ever had coming down to the finish line. Can't say I like coming in second in this of all races, but next time I'll shave and will be that hair faster!

FU cancer

 

Didn't think I'd be here again. Let me qualify that. Yes, I knew I'd be here again. Yes, I knew I'd be here to support the cause again. Yes, I knew I'd be here for one of my local races. No, I didn't expect to be taking the pink out of retirement to remind that "c" word, the same words, the same meaning still applies when I wear it, FU cancer! 

 

The What If

The next statement is one I've said before, you've read it before if you've read more than a couple of these blogs, and most likely I will say again. "I wish I would have trained more". I know, it sounds like a broken record. Does that a phrase that even makes sense anymore? It may be time to change that, if nothing else. What do Millennial's say when something repeats? I'm somewhat curious now, but I digress and this blog is history, not speculation and searching for answers!

Life happens. Even though history repeats, learning can still happen, and that's the story of this entry. Eight times doing something, I have a feeling what to expect and a educated guess how things will play out. Standing at the starting line, my mind knows all too well what's coming based on history, yet there is this small part that goes "what if".

The "what if" in this case, natural talent. Specifically, can that "what if" overcome other obstacles? On a day when I needed some "what if" to carry me, it was nowhere to be found. Shouldn't have surprised me, being the ninth time doing this, it's already the second time in this exact situation, where mind and heart weren't able to operate at the level I needed. It would be nice if the "what if" could step up and will the result I want from a race. Reality though, for me, when the heart is hurting and the mind is elsewhere, it makes an already difficult task that much harder.

Bang goes the gun. Making the first turn, the foreshadowing of what the day was going to bring came sooner than it ever has. Before even coming out of that turn, it was incredible to me the temperature difference of the shade versus the direct sunlight. It wasn't as if the weather was going to be overly hot, it was more the shock of how much of a difference could already be felt and the day has barely started. The plan, run as conservative as I could for as long as I can and just see what happens.

Being the ninth time, chances are you know the course. Thought I did as well, but was pleasantly surprised when we didn't make the turn into campus for the first real hill. Physically, that was a great thing. Mentally, found myself wondering, if they removed that section, what awfulness did they add, that I know don't know about for later.

Around ten miles, found a surge of energy when a woman commented that the exact song that I was playing, was also playing in her headphones. The randomness of that and the unlikely odds of that ever happening got my mind occupied with that for a few miles. That will probably be the one key moment that I'll remember from this marathon.

The halfway point, my body already began telling me that this was far enough. I certainly hoped I was going to get a bit further than this before this started. Much too far for the "what if" to even play a factor. Mentally, it was a bit like a domino, mind immediately started to spin into a dark place and it was pretty much over from here.

Fought through until about mile sixteen. At this point CT found me on her bike. Seeing her was great on one hand, but on the other hand when the mind is already in that dark place, then it only felt like I was letting her down as well. Then on top of that, knowing there were still ten miles left, it almost felt insurmountable.

The rest of the day felt like it would never end. Those were some of the longest miles I have ever done. With that said though, there was never any doubt the line would get crossed, which is weird how there was never any doubt there. But, crossing the line, know I PR'd from finishing to leaving in the car. A brief pause for some water, but that was it, time to end this day.

What if, next year is a better year? 

Back to the Future

Jump in your DeLorean, set the flux capacitor to the year 1990, and take it 88 MPH! Time to visit Ace, before he was Ace, hell before just about everything for this post.

I'll be the first to admit, it's weird what things you remember. I'll also admit that many of us don't even want to remember High School years. I know the room, the class, the seating assignment, the exact moment as a freshman, when I saw an upper classman's class ring for the first time. No clue why jewelry made an impression on me, but at the time, it was damn cool! Couldn't wait for that moment when I could have my own class ring, the prestige, the level of respect it would bring me, not to mention the women! Surely, this moment will define me and be the turning point for my High School years.

When that catalog arrived, had my ring designed and picked out in minutes. All that is needed, the check to cover it from the parents! "No." No? Stopped dead in my tracks with that response from Mom. Denied the most important social status item, ruining my High School future, did my Mom hate me? "We're not spending $350 on a ring you are probably going to lose and after four years, you're not going to care about anyway." That response wasn't even logic! The Fresh Prince was right, parents, just don't understand! (look that reference up Millienals) Reconfiging my options, working my charm, and hoping that nobody (of social importance) would notice the difference between white gold and something called lustrium submitted my proposal to Mom for $89, with I'm sure promises to help do extra chores around the house.

I said memory is a funny thing, right? I don't remember my life getting better after getting the ring. I certainly don't remember all the dates I got because of it and I don't recall underclassmen parting as I strolled down the center of the halls wearing it. I'm sure all of that happened. Or maybe it didn't because is was lustrium and not white gold. I do remember getting somewhat lucky that the Company made a mistake on one side of my ring. I won't call out the Company and publicly shame them on this popular blog, because it's been almost thirty years and I'm sure they aren't the only company anymore. They couldn't be, could they? Anyway, ordered it with a cross country figure on one side, planning to go out for the cross country team. Ended up not trying out for the team and it worked out by them putting some kind of generic scholastic type emblem in it's place by mistake. Somewhere, there is some "Lost" humor in the fact running found me later in life.

Get back in that DeLorean, the year is 1998. It's a beautiful sunny day at the beach in South Haven, freshly graduated from college, still wearing my ring. I'm sure it's still doing all the things I always hoped it would do for me back in high school. Take that Mom, I didn't lose it! Dove for a ball in the water, hand went into the sandy bottom, and came up missing my ring. Mother Nature stepped in deciding to help make my Mom right instead! Even though I searched and felt confident I hadn't moved much, I couldn't find (insert Gollum voice) my precious!  I didn't spend an exorbitant amount of time searching, after all it was only $89, but it did almost feel as if that chapter of life came to an end. In a way, the timing actually came to an appropriate end at the exact time that it should have.

I did expect two outcomes losing it that day (not including "Mom, was right"). The first, somebody would find it within a year and a pawn shop would call me to buy it back, because nobody else would want it. Or the Earth would have it for millions of years, until an alien race found it on their quest for more lustrium, lets not forget the social status it brings! My bet is on the latter.

One last DeLorean ride, back to the present.

Doing a scan of the social networks while relaxing on the couch, notice a direct message asking "Did you go to this high school?". Wow, that's super random. Almost didn't know how to respond to that, you know those glory days are so far in the past and I don't like to talk about them. But with recent news of super rich parents paying to get their snowflakes into colleges they couldn't normally get enrolled in lately, it was obvious to me that another scandal was about to break! What did my parents do? Even worse, if they paid money, and that was the best high school they could get me into, holy crap will my self esteem take a hit! Better judgement told me to lie, but I admitted it. Next message, "Did you lose your class ring?". This caused me to sit up and immediately forget about the game that was on. Total attention, because there are only four people on the planet that know I lost that ring and yes, unfortunately, Mom is one of them! The fact somebody is asking, has to mean somebody found (insert Gollum voice) my precious!

Fast forward, after a couple of obligatory proof messages, that I really was the person who lost their class ring, a meeting place was decided. After the initial greeting, round the corner to see my ring sitting in the center of the table. Exactly, how I remember it! Almost twenty one years later, exact same. Not corroded, not covered in zebra muscles, not worn away, not discolored, exactly the way it was the day I lost it. Bless lustrium! Those aliens know their precious metals. Now, you know I'm a tough guy, so warning this is going to come across sappy and way too sentimental, but seeing it with it's stupid bent band that I don't even remember how I did it, it's weight, to putting it on, how it feels, exactly how I remembered it! Flash of memories. Not memories of results I expected by owning it, but instead friends from that period of life, to some of the things we'd do, memories.  Not a ounce of value in lustrium, but memories, that's a different story.

Damn, I hope I wasn't crying. Get in the DeLorean, don't ask questions or say anything!

Visiting, got the rest of the story. Names changed to protect from the media exposure, the Treasure Finder actually found my ring this past January. From the sounds if it, almost the exact spot I remember losing it as far as distance in the water, but about ten inches in the sand. That fateful day, I know I didn't sink in to my elbow, so interesting to know how much the landscape changes. He did attempt to find me, but when he looked up if my high school had records of me, he didn't see me listed. I know I didn't cure cancer (yet), but I certainly wasn't a bad student where they'd erase me either, but maybe if you lose your class ring, they disown you. Searching with a metal detector takes patience, a level of skill, and lets be honest, some luck. Same holds true for internet searches. This is when the Treasure Finder's Sister stepped up and tried her luck tracking me down. Sibling rivalry? Teamwork? Either way, I'll take it!

I might joke around from time to time, but 100% sincere Thank You to the Treasure Finder and the Treasure Finder's Sister. It would have been so easy to find a class ring, realize it doesn't have any value, lustrium, and simply chucked it further into the lake out of frustration. Let alone spending the time to actually track down the owner, take the risk he's not a nut job, and simply returning it without asking for anything in return. In my mind, it restores the faith in humanity, that there are good people out there. The second I get a hot tip for lost treasure (or when CT loses her ring...slightly more likely), I know who I'm calling first!       

Never expected to see my ring again, but glad to have it back. Not for the reasons you're thinking either! I already know my social status can't go any higher because I have an Apple Watch, duh! It's going to make for a kick ass story for any reunion I ever go to. First person to store their ring for twenty plus years in Lake Michigan and first person every use lustrium seven times in a story.         

     

Not a Hamster

We are not empty nesters, yet I can clearly see the mom instincts going off as day approaches when we will be. Ms. Tougher than Nails hides her emotions well behind all her awards and medals, but if you look closely it's all a front to a very exposed heart. A few weeks ago CT asked what I thought about getting a hamster. Though I answered within a fraction of a second, "No, we are not getting a hamster" simply based on the thought of the smell. Before you pass judgement of how mean I can be, I could read between the lines of her request, the fear of not being able to mom something.  This got the wheels spinning, no not the hamster wheel!

Don't you dare repeat this, but of course I would deal with the smell if I had to. But, instead of a hamster, why not get a pet who is capable of a little more interaction, doesn't need constant care that neither want to give (ie a real pet...bark bark), and doesn't smell?  My thought went to pitching the idea of getting a parakeet. Growing up, I had really good luck with a couple very unique birds and even though CT is slightly jumpy when things fly around her head....well, I just won't bring that part up as a possibility until after!  

Just like everything, I overthink it. After casually bringing up the idea to CT, thinking it would lead to a bit of a debate, instead it was a rush out the door to go look at birds at the pet store. Can't even guess how long we (really I) looked. Explained how I wanted a male bird also wanted to avoid any birds that resembled prior birds that I had, simply for knowing they would never live up to expectations, oh and had to be doing something cute to make an assumption that if they did something cute in the pet store, of course they would be an entertaining bird at home! I think CT got frustrated with my indecisiveness and listening to all my rules. I struggled with a big jumping out with "Pick Me" written all over. In the end, we left the store with me wanting to think this over more.

Can't believe I made a blog post about not getting a bird with a picture of a bird for the post? How dumb is that? Oh, about as dumb as me leaving the store without a bird in the first place. Three quarters of the way home, CT starts with "I can't believe you didn't get one", "Are you sure you really don't want one?", "I know you want one". Before I knew it, we had turned around and were back in the store looking. The two of us narrowed down exactly the one we wanted. Then as ask the clerk went to catch it, made the comment this one is probably a female, oh wait we mean that one over there!

At the cash register to check-out, a very loud chit-chit-chit-chit! The typical distress call of a parakeet or at least an unhappy one. The checkout person's comment, "Huh, never had one do this before". CT and I locked eyes, smile, yeah this is our bird.

Meet TJ!