I Run These Towns

I've often blogged about my affinity for Norfolk, Virginia, a city I feel was my first grown up home. I've lived in Michigan for a decade, and it still doesn't feel the same way to me as Norfolk. As our plane descended into Norfolk International Airport two weekends ago, I teared up seeing the Hampton Roads Bridge Tunnel, the world's largest Navy base and East Beach from the air. The only time I cry about Michigan is deep in the bitter cold of winter. And it's not a sentimental cry. I got to spend an entire week with my siblings, sibs-in-law, niece and nephews (including meeting my newest one who's only three weeks old). Generally my trips to Virginia are over long weekends, and it's been a long time since I've gotten some serious quality time there. The last time I visited, nearly two years ago, we'd just found out we were matched with our son's birth mother. I knew life was about to change forever, and that visit had a desperate quality to i...

If running was easy everybody would do it. The hard is what makes it great, remember ? I repeat this to myself on a regular basis these days because I've been lacking in motivation for months. I'm much happier doing a cross training workout than hitting the river trail, but I've been running again 3-4 times a week the last month. It hasn't always been pretty. As a matter of fact sometimes it's been downright u-g-l-y. But I've been out there, and pushing through a hard run is always better than not running at all.  A few months ago I wrote that if this blog was simply about my running and traveling that would be amazing, and everyone would hate me. I stand by that statement with a vengeance. Every single runner I know struggles . If someone tells you that running is easy and everything they say or write about running is all sunshine and roses, they are a total liar. It's misleading to all runners, especially those starting out or struggling to increase mil...

When I moved to Michigan a decade ago I was already programmed to love the underdog cities. Working for the City of Norfolk, Virginia gave me that chip on my shoulder any time people talked about forsaking Norfolk for the shiny newness of its suburban neighbors. I didn't know it at the time but this would lead me to be a lover and advocate for Detroit and other urban core cities in a way I would not be able to anticipate. When I met my now husband, a native of the Detroit suburbs, he was (and remains) a huge supporter of the city. The struggles of the city were real then, but it was before a scandal jailed the former mayor and bankruptcy seized the city's resources. When we first started dating my husband and I spent lots of time in Detroit attending sporting events, going to bars and visiting friends. Our first date was hosted by the Traffic Jam & Snug in Midtown. At a time when our conservative colleagues couldn't find a nice thing to say about Michigan's flag...

One of my absolute favorite times is rapidly approaching: the Olympics. I could qualify and indicate that it's the summer Olympics but 1) that's obvious because it's August and 2) the winter Olympics are sub par and contain boring events, and everyone knows they aren't the real  Olympics. I am madly in love with the Olympics. Ask me if I watched badminton two weeks ago, and I'd tell you that you were crazy. Ask me next week and the answer is obviously. The Olympics change everything. A lot can change in four years. Four years ago I wrote a blog about how excited I was for the London Olympics. They didn't disappoint. I remember watching the Olympics in 2012 and crying every time I saw a Proctor and Gamble "Thank you, Mom" commercial. (They still make me cry for what it's worth). We were six months into our adoption process, and I was bright eyed and optimistic that we'd have a baby any minute. London was filled with promise for the athletes...

Welcome to August! At the end of this month I will celebrate my 38th birthday. I've never been the kind of person who stresses about getting old because I wouldn't trade my current life for the drama of age 18 or 21 or even 25 for anything. I like myself at almost 38, and I understand myself. At this age I've also acknowledged certain inalienable truths: I will never slow down; I will promise to slow down repeatedly to my family and in writing in this blog but will fail to actually do it; and it turns out I am a sick person. I've pretended the latter isn't true for a long time. If you read this blog regularly I have promised time and again to be kind to myself and take it easy. Do I ever? No. I've also pretended that I'm not a sick person despite 18 years of dealing with Crohn's. I've worried that acknowledging that I'm a sick person means I'm defined by it. I have recently decided that is not true. I promised, promised  that after my hos...