Our Valentines Day in Pictures

Yesterday, my husband surprised me via email and told me that he was planning to take off on Valentines Day and our itinerary would be as follows: Drop off the kiddos at preschool, go for a run, brunch at Tupalo Honey, shopping at Lululemon, pick up the kids, go for a hike, have a picnic at the Biltmore, put the kids to bed and kick back with champagne and netflix.

                  

How sweet is that? Can you believe that this is our 12th Valentines together and he is still so into it? I am a lucky lady. And the day pretty much went just like that.

We had a quick 6 mile run and then a super yummy breakfast at Tupalo with our sweet girl.

After that we headed to Lululemon and I had a pretty woman moment and tried on everything in the store.

I finally decided on a neon green run swiftly tank for my Saint Patty's Day marathon and a hot pink pace setter skirt. It made every mile run, every morning I gave up sleeping in and every bit of frostbite I endured

all worth it. An outfit shouldn't give you power, but this one does.

 After we picked up the kids we drove over to the Biltmore and went on a hike. Just before the sun went down we feasted on Subway

 played in the water

 and did yoga on the mountaintop.

 As I am typing all of this out Jaime is upstairs bathing all three kids and getting them ready for bed. Did I mention that he's awesome? Happy Love Day y'all!

Xo

Keeping the Faith

This past November the Conley Family started going to church. And not just on Christmas and Easter, but other Sundays too. We have been church shopping for some time and have yet to find a place where we belong. We are an interesting bunch, a whole lotta hippy mixed in with a little bit of tradition. What I mean is that I don't fit inside the doors of any place that is going to use the Bible or God to be mean or discriminatory. Also, I respect that there are about 1.5 billion Muslims in the world, 14 million Jews (including Jesus, right?) and a whole bunch of other religions ranging from Buddhism to Hinduism to Tom Cruise. Christianity only makes up about 30%  percent of the worlds beliefs. You see, I graduated from UNCA and in order to receive that Liberal Arts stamp on my diploma (made out of patchouli) they simply insist that there is a big world out there and that you better respect it. Over the course of about 6 humanities classes, I think I became all of these religions at least once. I also became a Unitarian and got a candle and everything.

Fast forward 6 years and three beautiful little children. I still love everybody (with a couple exceptions) and I still think other religions are super cool and interesting BUT I kind of want to go into a real church, dress up and experience tradition. I can't handle the hula hooping or incense or being barefoot. If I wanted to do that, I'd just stay home. So, where can I find the hippy spirit in a church that looks like the Vatican and is filled with really smart people who speak Hebrew and know their shit? Believe it or not folks, after almost 9 years of searching, I think I found it. Actually, I don't know if anyone speaks Hebrew yet but they certainly don't speak cowboy and there isn't a rock and roll band screaming at me, so that's a start.  

We started Trinity Episcopal the first week of November and were blown away. The kids fit right in and seemed to really enjoy Sunday school and children's church. Yes, children's church! They have their own little chapel with tiny chairs. It is SO cute. And Jaime and I get to sit uninterrupted for an hour. It is divine. So after a of couple weeks we started a class and after its completion we can officially get confirmed Episcopalian. We are 5 weeks into the class and I think I'm learning a lot. It can be difficult at times because I know way less than everyone else and feel like I need him to back up a bit. I guess at UNCA they forgot to teach us anything useful. But I know this: Women are bishops, there are 3 gay people in my class and they have a parents drinking club. All big, big bonuses in my book. And the Rector who goes by Father Scott is married and has two kids so he is relateable and not scary. Last week in class someone made a joke that Episcopalians will believe just about anything and Father Scott was quick to say that isn't true. They have very strong beliefs all outlined in the Book of Common Prayer and if you ever have a question about what the church believes you can find an answer there. They just have more tolerance than other religions. I really like that. Who are we to judge? I'm such a mess that I have already cheated on what I gave up for lent and it's Ash Wednesday.

What I believe is this; If there is a heaven, I want to go there. It is better to believe in something than nothing. Even if you take organized religion completely out of the equation, being a decent human being can never be wrong. Something much larger than biology created Josiah, Oliver and Corinne. I want to be better. I need help. I need to be able pray and thank someone for all that I have. Being grateful is important. Giving up and letting go of control is also important. Giving yourself an opportunity and the time to develop a relationship with God is nessacery. We are not promised tomorrow, be thankful for each breath and every moment. Even the bad ones... they are significant and it'll all make sense someday. I think.


  

Training: The Opposite of Hoping

This Saturday I ran further than I ever have. Possibly further than anyone ever has. Ok, so that isn't true...but it totally felt like it. 21 miles of oh my gosh ouch.

The past few months I have been feeling a little bit like JayZ. I run this town. Seriously, all over this town. North Asheville, Woodfin, River Arts, West Asheville, East Asheville, Bent Creek, the Mountains to the Sea Trail, Downtown, Biltmore, the Parkway...What am I forgetting? It is a challenge to map out such lengthy runs in a city the size of Asheville and still keep it fresh. Saturday I was only trying to keep it real and go some place new. And by some place new, I really mean to outer space. To infinity and beyond y'all.  The route had us starting at Fudruckers, continuing up through the rose garden to Patton Mountain, all the way up to Town Mountain, north on Town Mountain to Craven Gap and the Blue Ridge Parkway, north on the parkway to Ox Creek, then over to Elk Mountain Scenic Hwy for a quick descent back to Beaverdamn and finally over to Kimberly and ultimately back to Fudruckers 21 miles later. I am having post traumatic stress just typing all that out. By completing this slow (real slow) form of human torture my ultimate goal is to cross over the finish line at Wrightsville Beach and yell out, "What? That's all you got?" We climbed 1600 feet over the course of 13 miles. The Empire State building is 1,400 feet. Think about THAT for a second. 

Everyone who knows me will tell you that aside from having a running problem, I'm not exactly the healthiest person on the planet. In fact, it is possible that I run as much as I do so that I can eat Papa's and Beer three times a week and drink a bottle of champagne every Tuesday while watching The Bachelor. I hear about athletes who fuel up with all sorts of nuts and seeds and leafy greens. Hey, I like salad! I always get a salad first at the Asheville Pizza buffet. Always. And I just bought a pair of size 4 pants, so obviously dieting is all just a scam to keep farmers and their silly vegetables in business. But anyway, I am sort of at a loss as to how to prepare for the these long runs. Exspecially since they are on Saturday mornings and Fridays are supposed to be fun time. So Friday night in typical fashion, I had a steak burrito and rice (carbo loading) from Papas and Beer. Then Saturday morning I got up and drank 2 cups of coffee and ate a bite of a banana (super important runner food) and gave the rest to Jaime. "If I eat the rest of that I will puke," I told him. "Don't puke" he says. And I was off. 

Opening the front door I was greeted by a blast to the face. No really, look what the car said:   

18 degrees. 18! That is less degrees than miles I was about to run. First, I had to drive up to Craven Gap and drop off a water bottle because water bottle belts look stupid and I'm not going to wear one. It took me 30 minutes to get there.  The road was frozen and dangerous. And we were going to run all the way up there and then keep going for 11 more miles. I met Paige, Jenny and Bill at Fudruckers and Bill snapped this before photo of the ladies.  Look at how happy we are.



The first part of the run always go by quickly as we catch up from the previous week. Stories of kindergarten tours, plantar fasciitis and shoe inserts, crazy text messages, etc... filled the first 5 miles and suddenly we were on top of Patton mountain. Bill wished us luck and went on his way because he is smart and wanted to go home and go to a movie. We went left, he went right and up, up, up we went for 9 more miles. I think I must have been suffering from some form of hypothermic hysteria as I chatted with Jenny about beautiful mountains and hills and how I was kinda bummed my marathon was so flat. I snapped photos and was all like, "Its SO pretty!" It was really pretty. Check it out.  

I was kinda confused about when exactly we were going to go downhill. Elk Mountain was for some reason going up and not down. Why wasn't it going down? Well, I guess to go down one side of the mountain you must run all the way up the other. I didn't know that when I mapped it out. I just thought Elk Mountain  then boom Beaverdamn. But we started on an Elk Mountain that was practically in Weaverville. I know, so weird.

Finally, Jenny who had biked this route in the past told me we were at the tippty top and I demanded to have my picture taken by this cool rock.



We had just run a half marathon up a mountain. Where were the medals, beer and donuts? Paige was crying and Jenny had a bleeding blister. I was trying to be cheerful and was like, "Look, I can see your house Paige!! We are almost back!" I had no idea how far we still had to go. As we set off down the mountain all of my badassness disappeared. I felt every muscle in body. I hurt so bad. Wasn't the downhill supposed to be the easy part? Just get off this road and get on Kimberly and you'll be ok. I repeated that in my head for five miles. Five miles... all downhill and every step felt like the end of my running career. When I finally turned onto Kimberly and was welcomed by Josiah and Oliver's preschool, I saw the hill. One that on any normal day and compared to what we had just run would look like a mole hill. But after almost 19 miles I felt my first wave of tears. Oh God, what was I doing? Crying? What? Then I did something even crazier. I leaned over and did the downdog in the graveyard at Asbury. Which was completely appropriate, because I was dying. Then I fell down. I was so cold. The thought of this got my heart racing, was I freezing to death in a graveyard? Was I already dead? My skin was so cold and clammy. My phone was completely out of battery (since I had been running for infinite hours) or I would have called Jaime to pick me up right then and there. Paige and Jenny were gone. I was all alone... laying in a graveyard. 

Somehow I got up. Not through any inspirational story like I thought of a man with one leg crossing the finish line or all the starving people in the world. Simply because my car was at Fudruckers and I had no phone and I needed to go home. I said so many bad words on Kimberly. At one point I yelled out, "My knee, my f**king knee!" and a lady walking her dog glanced my way and kept going. Seriously? You don't wanna help me out? You don't care about my F-ing knee? Really?  

    That final 2 miles I ran for 30 seconds walked for a minute. Ran 30 seconds walked for a minute. And finally, I smelled cheeseburgers. Fudruckers. Oh thank you Jesus.

Paige and Jenny were sitting in the grass at Fudruckers and discussing how stupid that was. 21 miles. Wow.

I drove home and as soon as I got out of the car, started crying (again). Jaime helped me in the door and said you only have to walk like 50 more feet. You can do it. "I hate running. I'm not doing a marathon, I almost died, I'm so cold, please help me." Yep, those were all phrases out of my mouth on the way down to the bathtub. He was a good sport and only smiled without actually laughing. 

So, here I am. 5 weeks away from 26.2 and still alive. I have one more 20 mile run and then a three week taper of 15, 13 and 10 before the big day. I really hope that I'm ready because I want to do well enough that I never, ever have to do another one. And that's for real.

  

The Kindergarden Krazies

Five years ago I was a little over halfway pregnant with my first child. I found out on January 20th 2008 that we were having a baby boy and then in May, Josiah entered our lives a month earlier than planned. He was perfect. Since that moment life has gone by way too fast. Jaime and I went from two to five all before my baby could turn five. I love having a big family and I know that he wouldn't trade his brother and sister for anything but... I've somehow missed the last five precious years. The only ones where I will get him in his entirety before handing him over someone else. Someone who as a county resident, I actually have no control over. I can fill out the paper work and make "requests" which will try to honored after all the city residents are placed at their top choices. Our neighborhood school is terrible. On their school report card  they received a 2 out of 10. So no, they will not be getting my little boy who can read a few small words, write anything I tell him to spell and can add any combination of numbers from 1-10. He is smart y'all. Yes, because I'm just crazy enough to sit around and do flash cards with him for the last 4 years but mostly because he belongs to his Daddy who forgot his calculator the day of the SAT and scored so high that he still has a plaque on the wall at our old high school.

His school needs to be perfect. And my vision of a perfect school isn't a bunch of white kids dressed in outfits from the Gap in a row quietly listening and sitting in a desk. I feel like he needs to be in a school where you see all different types of people and go outside a lot and throw your left over (organic!) lunch in a compost bin and talk about saving the planet. Where you can learn by seeing and doing... all the while becoming respectful, consious little people of a great big world.

We have a charter school, Evergreen, that is everything I've ever wanted but we can't go there. There is another charter school Art Space, love it, can't go there either. Then we have a city school whose focus is experiential learning. They have actual chickens and the kindergardeners go outside and collect and count the eggs! YES! Can't go there. So, where can we go? Honestly, the other choices are good too. And compared to our neighborhood school they may as well be Harvard. But which one will we get? This is my perfect, first born. I kinda expect Harvard.

I don't think I realized how much the whole thing was weighing on me until I toured every school in town over the course of one morning. I was a wreck and had pretty much decided to give up when I remembered: I go to church now. PRAY! I'm pretty sure even in all my spiritual newness that you aren't allowed to pray for specifics (i.e. let him get into Evergreen and I will never create another piece of waste as long as I live) but I can totally pray that he ends up exactly where he is supposed to. Because the reality of it is, he's gonna be fine. Wherever that may be. I may not be, but he will. Even if he went across the street to Johnson. Who knows, maybe he could teach the class? It'd be like Doogie Houser MD but with teachers instead of doctors. We would be famous and then I could afford to send him to some crazy hippie private school like the Learning Community or Rainbow Mountain. But, I digress. All I can do now is enjoy these last moments of Pre-K where I still rule the world. Oh how I love this sweet boy.

Hot Chocolate 10K Race Report

This past weekend I ran the Hot Chocolate 10K. 6.2 miles through Asheville's River Arts District in support of Issac Dickson Elementary School. I've known so many people to do this race over the years but I have shied away from it myself due the fact that it is in January. And January is cold. Even though I am going on my 9th year here in Western North Carolina, I still say Wilmington when people ask me where I'm from. I can out sit anyone in a sauna and think my natural habit may be somewhere around ninety degrees. Kinda like those iguanas that lay on hot tin roofs all over Costa Rica. Did you know that heat thriving species have an actual name? Thermophile. A little bit of trivia for your Monday morning. Anyway, I don't usually run outdoors in January but this winter has been the exception because of all the marathon training. Rain, snow, ice, dark, cold... I haven't had much of a choice. Thankfully, its been a mild winter and I have been dressed in the finest cold weather gear lululemon has to offer. The bundle me run jacket could make even a thermophile go out for a quick spin in a blizzard.

So. My running partner was headed to Disney World and I was dying for a break from our Saturdays spent together running ALL DAY LONG so I was happy to see her go. Have a great trip! I'll be sure to keep up with my training! Can't wait til ya get back! And then I took my running shoes and put them in my closet and fell asleep. Sheesh, 3 kids under 5 and running every moment I'm not with them has taken its toll the last 10 weeks. Still, I needed to do something over the weekend so why not run 6.2 flat little miles around town. I mean with all the running I'd been doing that would probably only take like 45 minutes and then I could go home and go back to sleep. Seriously, in my exhausted over run brain I thought I was going to run SO fast. I called my friend Bill and made him sign up and even challenged him to a race. We bet babysitting and this tired Mama really needed a night out. Bill loves to say stuff to me like, "I like running with you until you get tired and don't wanna talk...then I'll take off." which historically is kind of what happens. But not on January 26th. No sir. I was "only' running six miles and I was going to get a free babysitter. Here I am pre-run with my sweet family who came out to support me during the race.   

Do we look cold? That's because we were. It was freezing. 25 degrees with a wind chill of I dunno like, 250? The wind was whipping around doing something us beach people like to call a hurricane. Still, I am a marathon runner. I must run. So the horn went off and Bill says (of course!) "I'm just gonna run with you until you stop talking to me" Ha! I was already done talking to him. I ran off and went as fast as I could through the grass and the sidelines to sidestep all the people who weren't trying to win a babysitter. Thinking I'd shake him I turned up my music (Girl on Fire) really loud and kept going. We ran past mile one and a guy calls out Seven minutes, thirty seconds. "You're insane!" I hear through my music. Damn it. Bill was still next to me. The first half I really was on fire. With my feet on the ground. Not slowing down. I passed the 5K mark in twenty-three something and headed back the opposite way on river-side drive when WHAM! The wind blew me back. Ok, so maybe I wasn't really on fire and the wind was just blowing me along for three miles and now it was blowing me backwards. But more importantly, Bill was nowhere in sight. So I pushed against the wind in slow motion which thankfully, I have gotten really good at. Running forever in slow motion has been my mantra these last two and a half months. I dragged myself up that mean way too long of a hill (named Hill Street) and crossed the finish line in 53:15 which is a 10K PR for me, so yay! Just don't look at my splits which would show just how slow I was on the second half.

Oh and I beat Bill. Who finished in a respectable 54 minutes ( but still 45 seconds after me!). He was a good sport even though he rambled off something about having been in Michigan the night before and missing an airplane and renting car and maybe driving to the race from Charlotte? I don't know. I couldn't really hear him over Josiah and Oliver chanting Mommy Won!  

 

Only now how sad is it that I'm using my free babysitting time to go for a long run with my husband? Get a life much? Sheesh!

December

Earlier this month one of my friends asked if I could go to a movie, to which I replied..."Um, I think I'm free January 13th. Does that work?" You didn't know I was so important, did ya? Seriously, my life is flying by and I'm not even sure that I am taking it all in. So, so busy.

We began the month by going out to Sandy Holler farms and climbing all the up to the top of a mountain with a saw. Then we chopped down our very own Christmas tree and drug it back down the mountain. They had trees at the bottom of the mountain but we don't roll that way. It was the Griswold tree experience and all of its glory as we carried a baby in the Bjorn, Oliver whined about walking and Josiah ran so fast downhill that he couldn't stop and slammed face first into a tree. We dressed extremely festive in Christmas sweaters and worked up a pretty big sweat in the 75 degree weather. It was a perfect day and we really did pick the perfect tree.

The following weekend Lil came into town and Jaime and I took off for a full twenty-four hours to celebrate 9 years of marriage. That morning we ran 14 miles in Bent Creek and I had the run of my life. It was a moment when all the stars aligned and my body, mind and spirit were all working in perfect harmony. I ran the whole way, climbed almost 1,000 feet in elevation and went fast! I even got a little choked up and thought, "I'm really gonna run a marathon! That's so awesome!" It was a great start to a fun day. We checked into the Princess Anne Bed and Breakfast around 3pm after walking around downtown and Jaime using part of his Christmas bonus to buy a new bike. It's pretty sweet and since he and I are almost the same size, I fit on it too. Yay! That night I took every bit of perfectly balanced wellness I found that morning and threw it out the window. Seriously, it was wild. Too wild. And that's all I'm gonna say about that. Thank goodness those kids keep us chaperoned so well because Mommy and Daddy need it. Yikes.

The next week Josiah and Oliver had their Christmas program at school and it was adorable. I was so proud of Josiah and how well he overcame his fear of singing on stage! Last year he was so miserable during the whole performance but you never would have known this year. He is growing into a fine little human. I don't have any pictures because I missed the memo that in order to get a seat (and a SuperMommy award!) you must arrive 3 hours before show time and was left standing in the back row with all the other cool people who showed up at 11:45. Oh well, I hope my kids still know that I love them. Here they are that morning.

The next weekend I ran 15 miles in Bent Creek. Correction, I suffered through 14.4 miles in Bent Creek and quit before reaching that final .6 because I'm pretty sure I would have died if I went any further. I was VERY hot and overdressed because when I started that morning it was freezing and then it suddenly became summertime mid-run. I was also hungry, thirsty and depressed. Not a good day. But those are the days that make us tough. The weekly mileage is really getting up there and by the time the Saturday run rolls around I just want to lay in bed with the rest of America and eat Christmas cookies. I can do this. I will do this.

The next week I prepared a big birthday celebration for my husband who was turning 34 on the Mayan predicted last day on earth. Other people were joking about December 21st alot, but I didn't think it was very funny. I really wasn't ready for the world to end yet. The only good I could find in it was that I wouldn't have to run a marathon in March. So the big day arrived and BOOM. I got the freaking flu. Like lay on the bathroom floor and pray that the world ends flu. Ugh, it was retched. So, I sent my husband out all day with the three kids to celebrate his birthday. He took them to Papas and Beer and got the Sombrero and ice cream. The image of a solo dad and three kids wearing a sombrero while waiters sing Happy Birthday is enough to make me wanna marry him all over again. That night Bill was in charge of his birthday since I was praying to be put out of my misery. I think they had fun. Honestly, I don't remember. The following four days went like this. Oliver SICK. Corinne SICK. Josiah SICK. Christmas Eve with my grandparents in Lawndale where we all looked liked we had been or should have been hospitalized for some form of E-coli. I'm sure they were so glad we came  visit. Ugh.

Christmas Day was actually really nice and we were mostly on the mend. We woke up early, opened presents and then went to visit my dad and had big feast. The first in about five days.  All in all, a success!

Going into 2013 I can only hope to slow down a little and enjoy the little things more. These are the best days of my life and I want to remember them. So cheers to the world not ending and new beginnings. Happy Holidays Y'all!

Are those YOUR kids?

So here we go! Another attempt at rebooting this whole blogging thang. Corinne is 9 months old today and I am slowing getting my life back. She is so cute, really, I'm not just saying that because she's mine. She is the CUTEST BABY IN THE WORLD. See for yourself:

She is happily non-mobile with the exception of scooting on her bum across the hardwoods. She is a tiny little thing weighing in at just barely 16 pounds. But don't let her small size fool you as her personality is nothing short of electric. Her most recent claim to fame is "The squeal". It sounds kinda like this: "YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE" I don't know if it's a happy sound or a mad sound. I'm thinking it may just be a "Yo look at me" sound. Poor thing is starved for attention. As I'm sure anyone can tell by the 2,000 photos I upload daily via facebook. Seriously, I take out my phone to call Jaime and catch her posing and smiling. No Corinne, just a phone call. No need to go all BabyGap on me.

Josiah is now four and a HALF and don't you even think of leaving off the half. We had a party to celebrate it. He is doing fantastic in his new preschool this year. Rocking Pre-K and proving to be a rocket scientist. Actually, he isn't a rocket scientist yet but he will be very soon. So. Many. Questions. They never stop. And really hard questions that I don't know the answer to. Just the other day he asked me, "Mommy, do you really know what your talking about or are you just making it up?" Sheesh, I thought I had a little longer to make up answers to his non-stop quiz. He is amazing and so, so wonderful in every way.

Oliver is three, no half yet, just three. No need to get ahead of ourselves. I really love Oliver. For about a billion reasons but one is because he and I are so similar. Don't get me wrong, I married my husband because he puts other husbands to shame. He is a smart, good-looking, non-stop, a liv-in off the land, cable TV shunning, type of man who runs a million a week and refuses to buy new shoes EVER because he already has shoes. He is intense and I love him. He could save our whole family in a hunger games type of situation, I'm sure of it.  And if for some reason anything ever happened to him I'd look to Josiah for help because he is a carbon copy of his daddy. Anyway, back to Oliver. He and I live by another set of rules. We could lay around and watch cable TV all day if Josiah and Jaime weren't pushing us out the door.  Oliver's idea of moving fast is going to his room and waiting for a bit before its time to go. He doesn't like to be rushed and NEVER, does anything that he doesn't feel like doing. Seriously, if Ollie says no, I don't even try to pull out the "You're gonna do it because I said so" because he really won't do it. He'd rather take a two hour time out and chill in his room. He is super imaginative and spends a good part of the day talking to people who aren't there. He is best friends with his turtle, Crush, and loves his baby sister so much. He is a sweet soul and I love him very much.

And then there's me. I'm just chugging coffee and trying to keep up. I would complain but what's the point? I don't have time. More importantly I know there is nothing else I'd rather be doing. I love, LOVE, being with my kids. Even when they're nuts. I'm a little nuts myself so it's all good. I actually just had this conversion today about how crazy people get shit done. I defer to my inner running mantra when I want to join the ranks of whiney mamas:  Suck. It. Up. Life could be worse. I could have to get a job. Um...No. God forbid that ever become necessary because after trying to fill out an application to work at a charter school (so my kids could get in, don't judge me) I needed a large glass of wine. Seriously, I can't even turn something on the Internet into a word document anymore. And references? Who, my kids? Other peoples kids? The lady at the park? Yikes. Looks like I'll just be 1 in 4000 joining the lottery. Ugh, schools stress me out. So yeah, that's it. Oh, and I'm training for a marathon and have run almost 60 miles in the last two weeks. Why not? I have tons of time. See what I said about crazy people getting stuff done?   

As Christmas approahes and Jaime and I celebrate our 9th year as husband and wife I'm so grateful for how blessed we are. The things I struggle with aren't even a blip on the radar of real life problems and for that I'm very, very lucky. Thank you universe. Thank you. .