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Showing posts from January, 2015

You Get What You Pay For

I love paying taxes. That's right - this girl who officially registered to vote as a Republican at age 17, worked on Republican staff and never voted for a Democrat for President until this last election (that means I DID vote for Bob Dole in 1996) loves paying taxes. Obviously I've become more liberal in my near middle age, but you can't love cities and not love all the things they have to offer. Those services and the amenities that come with living and visiting cities don't come for free. Someone has to pay for them, and I'm happy to pay my share. Great places don't become great without investment - both capital and human - and we've got to be willing to make our contributions. I get it -  not everybody wants to live in a city. And that's totally fine. You have to expect, however, that if you want to live in the middle of nowhere, you won't get the same services. In the last half century greenfield subdivisions have exploded, and here in Michiga

Famous in a Small Town

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Sometimes I marvel at my love of cities. It's unlikely given that I grew up in the middle of nowhere. Although we lived in "town", I grew up in a town of around 400 people an hour from the nearest mall. To this day my hometown doesn't have cell phone service (or at least it didn't about a year and a half ago during my last visit). Even as a kid I knew that I wouldn't stay in that town when I grew up, and perhaps my love of cities grew from my rebellion against a small town. On the other hand my small town had many of the attributes I love about large cities in an improbable way. Last weekend we went home to West Virginia to see my family. My parents moved from my hometown of Hundred to the bustling metropolis of Morgantown almost 9 years ago. I rarely visit Hundred, and that's okay with me. I lived in Morgantown for six years in college and law school, and I love it there. I'm happy that it's my pseudo hometown.  My husband, sister, niece and I

Lessons on How to Relax

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I'm terrible at relaxing. It's not exactly second nature to me. I keep thinking of all these ways I could relax and make my life easier, but it's not going to happen. At least it's not going to happen without a lot of effort.  Earlier this week my husband booked a massage for me in an effort to help me relax. The morning of the appointment I was running around the house doing chores, and I shoveled the driveway. I was frantically trying to get things done so I could get out of the house and start my lone hour of relaxation.  At the salon I was waiting, fidgeting and on my phone, thinking of some work projects coming up in a few weeks. When the massage therapist called me back I was a bundle of nervous energy, and my shoulder hurt from shoveling the driveway. It was starting out so well. During the almost hour appointment my mind never stopped wandering. I was thinking about work and my to do list and our trip to West Virginia this weekend. I was not distracted by th

Speed and Control

I'm a control freak. This comes as no surprise to those who know me or those who have read this blog with any sort of regularity. It's difficult for me when life throws curve balls and there are situations I am unable to control. I am constantly in motion, and being constantly busy makes me feel like I have everything under control. Control, of course, is an illusion, but I like to at least pretend. Running is one thing that I can control ( injuries aside ). When I am running I feel like all is right with the world. Even with unpredictable elements like the weather running itself is certain.  My body gets into a running rhythm that is predictable. My mind gets into the running groove that allows me to zone out and work through the thoughts running through my head.  The wind rushes past my ears, and I am in my element. Even on days where my feet are soaked from running on slushy sidewalks or in a torrential downpour I feel like I'm in control. Mario Andretti once said, &

Hips Don't Lie (Nor do Knees)

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If you're a runner who has never been injured, I salute you. I'm also very envious. When I started running nine years ago, injury wasn't something that would've occurred to me. This is despite the fact that I'd never run more than two miles, and I decided to sign up for a marathon. You know how most people start with a 5k and build up? Nope...not me. I went right for a marathon having never run any race distance. It was all going well until I got to my 8-mile training run. I felt a twinge in my knee that continues to twinge to this day. It is an IT band injury that also has recurring hip pain. Any time I tell my husband that my hip is hurting his response is, "You know what they say: hips don't lie." He's annoying, and unfortunately he's right (although his meaning is different from the Shakira song.) A few years ago I wrote a blog describing my repeated trips to physical therapy since I started running. The IT band (the tendon that basicall