Things can get a little heavy sometimes. Not to worry though, life has a way of showing you the lighter side when you need it.

I wore a summer skirt to work today. My reasons were because it’s summer weather and because I didn’t have to iron it (this always being the most important reason to wear anything).

A coworker took notice.

“Oh! A dress!”

“Yep, I’m lazy.”

“Lazy? That’s not lazy.”

“Well, I didn’t have to iron this skirt to wear it, so I’m lazy. Simple.”

“Oh, so you’re one of those redneck girls, huh?”

“Umm, yeah.”

“Cool.”

My redneck ancestors would be so proud.

Thanks to Gretchen Wilson for singing a song that, apparently, was about me all along.

As I came to the top of a hill on my run today and saw this view, I remembered some advice I’d given myself last year when life seemed to be happening at a faster-than-a-speeding-bullet rate like it is now: You don’t have to decide everything right now.

Though all those schedules and deadlines might be like that snow on the mountain, life itself is the mountain. It will be there when the snow melts. It will go through another season, looking the same as it always has. It will stand in that same place no matter what the storms may bring. I know life changes but until one’s last breath, it’s still life. It’s still there to be lived and survived and used.

The pressure I’m feeling to make decisions and changes in my life is only coming from me. I can turn it on so easily, it’s turning it off that needs work. And I’m working on it. It’s going to be a lot easier to get over the mountains and through the storms without the extra weight of over-analysis and doubt.

When something happens, successfully, time and time again you begin to take notice. If it’s something consistent and fairly obvious, others begin to notice, too.

While talking with a friend of mine the other day, I gave myself a new official title: The Cure for the Single Girl.

For three consecutive years now, I have been out with a single girlfriend of mine when they met The One. Each of these women were single when they met me and my friend for six months or less when they met the man they would marry.

In 2003, it was a roommate situation. I knew a girl, Amy, vaguely from a couple of my college classes. We kept in touch after graduation through email and became good friends in December 2002. By January of 2003, we decided to become roommates. It was a great time as we’d both just started our first “adult jobs” and living in the “real world.” We’d cook together, watch movies and hockey games and dream of the cute neighbor boys upstairs. One May afternoon we decided we’d get some culture in our lives (to balance out the ridiculous amount of money spent on making our own mixed drinks) and went to see a play. At the play we ran into a girl Amy worked with and her husband. Tagging along with them was Brian. Amy met Brian, Brian met Amy, eyes locked and haven’t unlocked since. They were married in a whirlwind sort of way in early 2004.

In late February of 2004, I found a friend, Mary, in my new neighborhood. Mary had just broken up with her boyfriend of three years and I had just broken up with another musician (another post, another day). We’d take walks together, drink wine and complain about men. One day we decided to meet for happy hour after work at a downtown bar. Mary and I just happened to know the owner of the bar and chatted it up with him every time we were in there. He’d always get the creeps to leave us alone and give us free food if we kept ordering drinks. One day, our bar-owner buddy introduced us to Joe, his biking buddy. Mary met Joe, Joe met Mary, hands shook and haven’t let go since. They were married in August of 2005.

In January of last year, I met a new running buddy, Jamie, through my long-time running buddy, Jill. We ran together in the cold Colorado air that day and I don’t think any of of us did a long run alone for the next five months. We were a good, tight group always taking care of each other and encouraging each other. We’d planned a trip to run a half-marathon in the beginning of June and were with each other every step of the way. On the first Sunday of June 2005, we ran our half-marathon. It didn’t matter that Jill’s hub was out of town or that Jamie and I were single at the time, we had each other. When we finished that race (all within minutes of one another) we embraced. I remember us thanking one another out loud for being there. It was a really significant time in my running “career” and something I’ll never forget. The next day we returned to town and planned a little celebration with a couple of my friends. Jill and her husband weren’t able to make it so it was just Jamie and I. Jamie hadn’t met my friends before but beer brings people together, especially after a race. We met at a local restaurant and started in on the time-honored post-race tradition of beer and pizza. About 30 minutes later, my friends, Aaron and Ken, arrived. Jamie met Aaron, Aaron met Jamie. No spark. Jamie met Ken, Ken met Jamie, sparks flew and have continued to fly for almost a year now. Two weeks ago, Ken and Jamie “officially” moved in together. Marriage is coming; apparently there has been ring shopping.

So there you go, folks. Three years, three single girls, three marriages. The only common thread here is ME.

I’m thinking I’ll start a business. Slogan to read: Single? Need a friend? Be my friend and you’ll meet The One in six months or less. Guaranteed Success! References available (when they’re not ogling over one another).

Today was a about 25 degrees cooler than it has been around here lately. That, along with the wind, convinced me it was a good day to hit the treadmill.

I came home to let the dog out and as I was standing on the porch I thought “what kind of runner are you?” So it’s 50 degrees, big deal. So it’s windy. Is that seriously keeping you inside? What have you become? So I went inside, put on my running clothes and headed out the door.

I’m not going to lie, the first mile was hard. I had to talk myself through it, a lot. But soon I settled into a good pace and before I knew it, I was at the top of the hill I like to call my “Nemesis.” I named this particular hill because it seemed that no matter how hard I tried, it always took me 20 minutes from the second I step off my porch to reach the top of this hill. Well, today I reached the top in 18:31. Oh yeah!

That was the end of Mile 2 (and now you know what a slow runner I am). During Mile 3 I passed my buddy, Lance Armstrong. Okay, so obviously it’s not really Lance and obviously if I were to see him on the street it would be strange to see him running but I digress. I call this guy “my buddy Lance Armstrong” because, quite simply, the guy looks like Lance Armstrong. And, seeing him (and his killer quads) always makes me want to run faster and better. So I picked it up and soon I was into Mile 4.

During Mile 4 I passed no less than 8 other runners. This is a route in which I normally do not pass one other runner (except Lance) so seeing 8 people getting their butts out like me was encouraging. Especially considering the knee can’t seem to make up it’s mind as to whether it’s actually injured or not. I tried to pay attention to triggers but nothing seemed consistent: It hurt a little stepping up that curb, so maybe it’s stepping up. Oh, wait, it didn’t hurt on that one. Hmm. It hurt a little stepping down that time, so maybe it’s down? Well, Mile 4 was almost all downhill and it didn’t hurt at all. Hmm. Ridiculous knee.

Mile 5 passed pretty quickly but by Mile 6 I really started feeling it. I had been going too fast so I slowed down a little and tried to concentrate on just finishing. Just when I thought I should stop and walk, How Bad Do You Want It (Tim McGraw) started blasting through the headphones and I made it home, sprinting.

With all that was going through my crazy little head today, I really needed a run like that.

Life is getting busy again. I can feel it… those stress free Saturdays have gone by the wayside. I look at the calendar and there’s something every weekend, every evening. Races, training, weddings, fund-raisers, you name it, it’s on the calendar. I don’t even have time to think about where I should go until I’m there. I just need a little more time to sort it out.

- Work. It’s so busy I finish one project and barely take a breath before I move on to the next.

- Grad school. Do I want to apply? If I do, I need to do it soon. Application deadline is June 1. I’m not ready for the GRE or GMAT at all but I could probably pull it off if I needed to. The thing is, I don’t have time to even call and talk to anyone. Why doesn’t admissions open at 5:30 a.m.?

- A friend of mine revealed to me over the weekend that if she’s not married by the time she’s 29 (that’s next year) that she’s going to look into artificial insemination. She’s always wanted kids more than most people want air so I can understand why she’s set this deadline but I really don’t know what to think. There are so many things I want to ask her like how? and where? but all I can think is no friggin’ way would I be willing to take on the responsibility of parenthood by myself. No way. I can’t imagine.

- Training. My left knee is entertaining a slight injury. It hurts only from time to time but each time it’s enough to freak me out and think “oh my God, I can’t run. I’m going to get behind on training and then not be ready for what’s coming and then get fat[ter] and slow[er] and oh my God.” But, since it doesn’t hurt all the time, I just keep going.

- I have another friend that I don’t know how to get through to. Her life has come to the point that she’s completely out of control. Her marriage. Her family. Her weight. Her attitude. And all I feel like I can do is stand by and watch. I’ve told her my concerns and that I’m worried about her and all she says is “I know, I know” but never anything more. She’s not even willing to admit anything or accept any responsibility. I’ve never watched a train wreck about to happen but I feel like this is what’s coming and someone’s tied my hands and gagged me. There’s nothing I can say or do to prevent it.

- The house. There are several things I need to do at the house. I have no idea when I’m going to have time to take care of it. If you know anyone in Colorado that can clean carpets, service a central air system, paint a wall, repair a gutter and reseal a window can you please send them my way? I can do pretty much all of that but I only seem to have 7 spare hours in the day and if I don’t use them to sleep, then bad things will happen.

- I put on 10 lbs. since last season (race/running season). Yuck. I hate them. I’ve lost 2 of them so far but it’s slow going. I hate that I can spend 6 months getting to where I want to be and in 2 months it can all go to crap. I know, it doesn’t help that I eat pie but still, stupid calories. It’s so frustrating.

- I want to take piano lessons SO badly. I priced keyboards the other day. Not bad.
But then I think, how am I going to fit that in with training for marathons, grad school, work and volunteering? Ack!

And the worst part is, I can’t concentrate on any of it. All I think about is the next time I’ll be able to take a break from it all and get away. (It’s 5 weeks from now, in case you were wondering.)

Easter Sunday was absolutely beautiful in so many ways.

First was Easter Sunday service. Of course, the place was packed. I don’t talk about religion much around here or anywhere else so I don’t have much to say about it but I will say this: I don’t think being a “Christmas and Easter” church-goer is bad. If it’s the remembrance of the Resurrection that gets you out of the house and believing in something, I really can’t see room to criticize there. I feel like there’s a shortage of people willing to openly believe in anything so if it’s what you do, it is worth something.

With a quick change of clothes, I went with some friends down to the Incline. There’s nothing like serious oxygen deprivation and physical pain to help one reflect on Easter service.

After that I headed home to start making what would become the proudest moment of my contributions to Easter dinner. Key Lime Pie. And yes, it warrants capitalization. I’ve been working for quite some time on perfecting this and though today’s wasn’t perfect looking, it was perfect tasting. Due to the summer heat we’re having in April, the top layer settled a little too much. Next time, I’ll have to get it to the fridge faster I guess.

After throwing together some salad and potatoes, I was out the door to grandma’s house. The family all packed in and ate. The figures are early but as far as I can tell, I personally ate enough to sink a good-sized ship. Everyone else seemed to have done the same so we decided to go for a walk to the park up the road. This is not normally something the entire family would do but I think a thread common to each and every one of us is to never waste a beautiful day by sitting inside. We had a great time at the park. Playground swings hurt my butt a lot worse than they used to. Apparently, they’re made for small children. The merry-go-round is also not a good idea after any holiday dinner. Still, there were moments from this day that will remain with me forever. They’re the moments you make on purpose so that when you’re somewhere alone and far from home, you have something in your heart that bridges every distance and fills every empty space.

An hour later we headed home from the park ready for dessert. I am more than proud to say that, thanks to me, my entire family is currently in a Key Lime Pie-induced food coma. It really was that good.

As the sun headed West, we packed up left-overs, said our goodbyes and hit the road. For whatever reason, I drove right past the left turn that would take me home and decided to cruise around the hometown for a while. The sun was starting to set, it was 70 degrees, the windows were down and James Taylor* was in the CD player. Ignoring the ridiculous number that is the price of fuel right now, I just drove around the city, not quite ready to let go of the ordinary beauty of the day.

When I finally made it home, I called the little sister. I miss her so badly on days like this. I want to send her the sun and the food and the feelings from today. She had a good day with her hub and the baby-to-be but I know she wants to be closer. I don’t think we’ll ever be okay with the distance. We just deal with it as best we can. And she makes me swear on our mother’s life that I’ll make Key Lime Pie when I visit her next month. Obviously that’s not going to be a problem.

*Sunny Skies is a James Taylor song. The song is about a man who is not so sunny. At the end of the song, he wonders “if where I’ve been is worth the things I’ve been through.” I would have to say yes, but don’t miss those sunny skies.

Tonight I hung out with my mom and baked. Well, I baked and she sat in the kitchen and told me what to do like some kind of kitchen foreman.

Altogether it was two loaves of banana bread and a couple dozen peanut butter cookies. She was going to bring the cookies to work with her and I, the banana bread. As I was leaving, she instructed me on how and when to slice the bread and how large the slices should be because obviously, at 26, the whole knife thing is new to me. Not to mention, division.

“Make sure you let it cool and slice it in half and then make the smaller slices. You can’t feed eighteen people on fat slices.”

“Okay, boss.”

“Love you.”

“Love you.”

“Night.”

“Night.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

Thirty minutes later I walk through the door at home and my phone is ringing. The miracle that is caller ID says it’s mom.

“Hi, boss.”

“Hi. Also, wrap it in tupperware if you’ve got it. It will stay fresher than foil.”

“Gotcha. Okay, love you. Bye.”

“You ate some on the way home, didn’t you?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“I can hear it in your voice. You couldn’t wait. You ate some.”

Silence.

“Well, at least you have two loaves.”

“Yeah, mom. I’ll probably finish at least one tonight. Night.”

“Bye, honey.”

“Bye.”

I hate when my mom is psychic and it involves my inability to resist baked goods.