Mother's Day - Let the Games Begin

I'm sharing this excerpt from Gold Pans and Iron Skillets in honor of Mother's Day.

Enjoy!

Let the Games Begin

One would believe if one listened to women, that childbirth is a competitive sport! Birthing events range from sprint to marathon and weight lifting to gymnastics. Medals and awards come in the form of bragging rights for the duration of a mother's natural life. No sport has ever been, or ever will be sensationalized as is childbirth when a group of mothers gather together. Medals are worn with honor at all family gatherings, social events, and religious functions. Nary a phone-call occurs between two mothers without reference to and often play-by-play recall of a birthing event. The beauty of the sport lies in that all event participants are winners. No birthing experience can be overshadowed by the next, nor is it insignificant compared to those that have gone before. Each is unique displaying beauty and grace, endurance and pain all its own. It is the mothers that supply the competition! Let us examine the events:

The Birthing Sprint. The winner of this event delivered her babies in taxi cabs, motor homes, and hospital elevators. The sheer speed of her labor strikes fear, envy, and disbelief in the hearts of mothers entering into more controlled birthing events. Her bragging rights? It hurts to have a baby that fast!

The Birthing Marathon. This mother's labor lasted longer than Van Winkle's nap! Her recounting has an underlying attitude of "Wimp!" towards birthing sprinters. Anyone can hold out for three hours. Three days? Just try that!

The Birthing Weight Lifter. You guessed it, her baby outweighed her suitcase. The strength it required to carry that child for nine months is medal worthy. Deliver a baby that size and even men will grimace in pain.

The Tri-athlete. This competitive spirit delivered a baby, attended a baseball game, and baked a birthday cake for her two-year-old all in a twenty-four hour period. Giving birth is all in a day’s work.

The Gymnast. This mother delivers her babies with the aid of various apparatus, such as: in a hot tub, on a kitchen table, and to the rhythms of Tchaikovsky and Lennon. Variety is the key to her success.

Myself? I’m one who wears the marks of the competition with pride, much as an athlete sports a tattoo of his mascot or Olympic Rings. Grateful to have been invited to participate, I needed the help of a surgeon to complete the event. Even my aided delivery has its bragging rights.

Now, I don't mean to brag and I don't mean to boast,

But I have an incision that goes from Coast to Coast.

Hipbone to hipbone, that's the size for me.

The nurses all exclaimed, "Hey, that’s a big smilie!" 

My personal favorite is the Creative Dance Participant. This mother was caught in a flood in Mozambique. She delivered her baby while taking refuge in a tree! Try to top that!

The beauty of childbirth competition is that each participant has an experience all her own. It matters not what the competition has done, her experience of sacrifice cements a bond between mother and child none can discount. A memory none can erase. She can't be disqualified or penalized. There is no such thing as a false start. Each emerges victorious. Imply that a mother had an ordinary birthing experience and she will launch a colorful recounting that will make the Boston Marathon sound like a walk in the park!

Happy Mother's Day to all the amazing moms out there!

Running Granny Green encourages women, especially grandmothers, to gain greater fitness by providing tips and inspiration to insure long years of joyful grand-parenting. The cookie recipes are a bonus!

Happy Running!

- Carol aka Running Granny Green

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Guest Blogger: Kimberly writes about Priorities

My name is Kimberly, I am 24 years old and mother to two sweet little girls. I'm married to an amazing man and we live in a little town in Idaho. I enjoy crafting, reading, running and baking! I have an Etsy shop where I sell handmade cards, and I am currently in the process of starting my own blog. We have one dog and three chickens. We dream of having our own farm someday (hence the name of my shop and blog The Farmhouse Dream) with lots of animals, and our 12 children (No joke, that's how many kids my husband wants. Pray for me please).

Prioritizing the 'Important' Things

 “I have a really good friend who I always call to go snowmobiling, water-skiing, hunting ... you know the really important things in life...”

I was sitting in church when I heard these words. The same church I always go to, just in a different building in a different town. As the speaker said these words the congregation laughed with him as though to say, 'You're so funny. We all know these aren't the important things in life'.

Hearing these words got me thinking about how we often treat these things as the important things in our lives. How often does that television show, that conversation, that text message, or that shopping trip you had planned two weeks ago become that ALL important thing? When do these (sometimes meaningless) tasks get more of our time than our families? How often do we tell our children (and/or spouse) 'hang on, just a minute, we'll do that tomorrow or next week' while continuing to do what we are doing and never really focusing on them and what they may need at the time? Our actions never really change.

We need to re-prioritize our lives and focus on what really IS important. Not just what is important to us, but our family and our Heavenly Father as well.

We need to realize that we need to slow down and enjoy the little things. We need to take time with our children playing 'kitchen', reading stories and coloring in those never ending Disney coloring books (Seriously we just colored four pictures of Bambi ... Another one? Oh, all right.) because that is what they NEED us to be doing instead of the never ending list of laundry, cooking, cleaning, baking, etc. that we THINK we need to be doing. For our children those little things that are annoying, or a nuisance to us, are the BIG things to them. Have you ever heard the quote by Catherine M. Wallace, “Listen earnestly to anything your children want to tell you, no matter what. If you don't listen eagerly to the little stuff when they are little, they won't tell you the big stuff when they are big, because to them all of it has always been big stuff.” I love this quote! When I hear it I also think of how it applies to what they want to do and not just what they say. Our children need to have these memories of us (Mom and Dad) doing what they want to do, playing dress up, reading their bedtime stories, and making mud pies ... because at the end of the day the mud from the pies washes away and all we're left with are the memories (and photos if you remember - not my strong suit).

When I take a look at my own personal life I can see myself focusing on things that are of little importance to my family and my Heavenly Father. I will admit that I am human though, and I do get caught up in the things of the world. But I know that I can change that, it just takes time and the ability to admit that it is something that I need to work on. The important things in life aren't how many times we went snowmobiling last winter, or how many elk we successfully hunted in the span of our lifetime. The important things are the memories we make with our families, the time we spend with our Heavenly Father, and making the world a better place for our children to live in. We need to be the examples they deserve when it comes to what is important in life.

So what can you do today to re-prioritize what is important to you?

This is Kimberly's first guest post on Running Granny Green. Give her some love by visiting The Farmhouse Dream on Facebook, her Etsy Shop, and The Farmhouse Dream Blog.

Visit my Guest Blogger page to get to know all my blogging friends.

Happy Running!

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It’s May! How did the time pass so quickly?

 

I am surprised how quickly the first third of 2015 has passed!  It’s already May.  “May Day!” Perhaps that distress call was coined because those in peril felt sudden panic similar to the surprise that the rest of us feel when we realize the month of May is suddenly upon us. Where did the time go? Where did April go? My attention must have been directed to uncommon things.  Here are a few of them.

We’ve had a life altering experience in that my husband changed jobs this spring.  It has been both challenging and rewarding. We are growing through the experience while both of us learn to adjust to new skills (I’ve been packing him a lunch every day!) and schedules.

I’ve taken on new business opportunities like this one and I am learning to “put myself out there” a little more. I’m also venturing into the realm of book coaching and that is another learning experience.



Some of my favorite people



My illustrator, Margaret.

I had a visit from some of my favorite people throughout April and my focus was on spending time with them.  I didn’t neglect all of my work!  In fact, my favorite little illustrator and I published my first children’s book. What fun we had! Stay tuned to learn more!

Now it is May.  My company is gone.  I harvested new spinach from my garden yesterday. I’ve committed myself and some friends to the Grand Teton Relay in August for which I must prepare! It’s time to mow lawns and market books and continue to learn new things. It will soon be autumn!

This sudden arrival of May leaves me thinking …

Does time pass while we are living life or do we let life pass while we are watching the time?

Please share your thoughts in the comments below.

 

HAPPY RUNNING!

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Guest Blogger: Nikki Writes about Sharing Traditions

Guest Blogger, Nikki, is back today with some counsel about sharing traditions with your children.  Nikki is an entrepreneur and owner of Bedhead Designs.  She is a homeschool mom who volunteers in her church and community.  Thanks, Nikki, for taking time to share your thoughts with us!

Every time I hear the word “Tradition,” I hear the song from ‘Fiddler on the Roof’ in my head, and I yell, “TRADITION!”  Haha! The dictionary defines tradition as the transmission of customs or beliefs from generation to generation.

How do we go about sharing our ‘traditions’ with our families? I will share an idea with you!

Talk about current events with your kids. As you are talking about what’s going on, share with them your family values and beliefs about the topic. You can do this daily in a shorter devotional type setting, or once a week as you gather as a family to learn and play together in a Family Night.  It’s easy and can be a binding force and a comfort for your family.

Subscribe to a newspaper or two. If you can, choose a local one, and then a more national one so you can get a variety of current events. You can choose online or real newspaper. (You can even just do the Sunday edition if you don't want a bunch of papers piling up. There will be plenty to choose from all week!) I like real newspaper because we can gather around it, and choose one that jumps out at us. Let the kids pick sometimes (or all the time), it will get them more interested. Once you have picked a topic, read the article out loud and start the discussion. Ask them pointed thinking questions. Then tie it into your beliefs and values. My kids range in age from 14 down to 5. Sometimes the topic may be over some heads, but they will glean something from it. There is usually one big simple truth you can teach everyone and get more detailed with the older ones as they ask. AND LET THEM ASK! Open it up to them so it isn't just you up there expounding. Be sure to get down on their level so they know this is a time to ask real (and sometimes hard or scary) questions. This will be a great way to keep the channels of communication open with your kids. If you are sharing a range of topics, even the touchy ones, they will see that it's totally cool to talk about anything with Mom or Dad. THAT IS SO IMPORTANT!

I am a strong believer in sharing my customs and beliefs with my children! I think it is wise to give them a foundation on which to build. As they go about their life, they will come to crossroads, or uncharted waters. They will need to draw from somewhere or someone, what to do in this or that situation. If we have not shared what we believe or what we have done, what do they have to stand on? It is important for the next generation to know what we believe and how we did things. They can then decide if it’s something worth passing on. Sometimes, they are not, and it is wise to be choosy. If your beliefs are not shared, though, your children cannot judge them for themselves.

Winston Churchill said, “A love for tradition has never weakened a nation, indeed it has strengthened nations in their hour of peril.”

I think this quote can be used in a family situation, too.  Knowledge of family values can strengthen us in an hour of peril.  Start sharing with your families today. You will find a new closeness and strength to your family. You will be confident that your kids can make choices and discern what is right and right for them.
 
For more ideas on family closeness, visit Nikki's blog in the ‘Family’ tab.


Stop by each Thursday to see what the rest of my Guest Bloggers have to say.

Happy Running!

A Raggedy Christmas

Here is a Christmas story from Gold Pans and Iron Skillets. Enjoy!

A Raggedy Christmas

It must have been about 1966, for I recall that I was not yet in school. The memories remain, few but vivid. I remember a sewing machine, bits of fabric, a door that remained closed, sneaking a peek with my younger sister and straining to decipher the whispers coming from behind the door. For two small girls, the expectations were wonderful. Our excitement was limited only by our imaginations! Whatever could be happening in that room?

The secret emerged Christmas morning. Beneath our tree sat two of the largest, happiest, rag dolls we had ever seen. Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy! At least, they were almost the Raggedys. The dolls were twenty-four inches tall, with orange (not red) hair, red triangle noses, wide spaced black button eyes, and red boots that pointed East and West. They were identical. The only distinguishing characteristic was their clothing. Andy looked like a clown in his one-piece suit and pointed hat. His striped suit was ruffled at the wrists and ankles. It had a red ruffled collar. Ann’s dress had a blue bodice and a dark print skirt with an apron attached. A pocket on her apron housed a bright red hankie. Ann wore a scarf that complimented Andy’s clown suit. I remember most the buttons down each back: three candy-colored buttons that looked like great big Life Savers. They were a comical pair. Situated under the tree atop a pile of packages, Ann and Andy appeared to be two children, the first to arise on Christmas Morn already wise to the contents of their brightly colored perch.

I found Raggedy Ann the other day, not in a trunk in an attic where any self-respecting Raggedy Ann would be found, but in a foot locker in the garage amongst old school books, a cheerleader’s uniform, and some old birthday cards. Raggedy Ann was in sad shape! She was hairless. Her skirt was torn and her scarf and hankie were missing. Her black button eyes were merely glue spots. Worst of all, she was decapitated! It appeared that Raggedy Ann had endured far too many visits from my nieces and nephews. I contemplated laying Ann in her final resting place (the wastebasket), but thought better of it. I would attempt to revive her!

This time it was my sewing machine, my fabric, and my wide-eyed five-year-old daughter anticipating the treasure being created. As I traced the tattered fabric of Ann’s body, I wondered what memories this renewed doll might sow for my little girl. Would she appreciate this silly looking creature as I did? Or, would Raggedy Ann be lost in the blur of Mom’s many other projects? After all, she was just another doll wearing an old leftover dress.

To me, she is still Raggedy Ann. What makes her Raggedy is not the fabric, or the color of her hair, or the stuffing inside, but the memories of a little girl’s Christmas captured by the expression on the doll’s silly face. Each time I look at Raggedy Ann, I am reminded of a Christmas and a childhood filled with happiness. And now, each Christmas my renewed doll takes a seat of respect beneath my tree to remind me that Christmas is for children, for love, and for memories of long, long, ago when a child was born to bring love to all children. Raggedy Ann has become my reminder at Christmas and every other day. She is a symbol of love, of gifts, of joy, and of what Christmas is all about.

Merry Christmas!

Running Granny Green encourages women, especially grandmothers, to gain greater fitness by providing tips and inspiration to insure long years of joyful grand-parenting. The cookie recipes are a bonus!

Happy Running!
Carol - aka Running Granny Green
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Keep a Candle Burning

This Christmas Eve I am sharing a story many of you may have read before.  It was included in my first book, Gold Pans and Iron Skillets.  This is a true story from Christmas in 1983. 

Enjoy and Merry Christmas!

Keep a Candle Burning

Candles have been used in the modern era mostly for ambiance. I don’t recall mood candles during my youth. Mostly, candles were used during power outages, a common occurrence in Southeast Idaho—the wind, you see. It seems it was after I moved away that Esther developed an affinity for candles. (If she had in fact used them previously, I in my self-absorbed teenage existence had not noticed.) Whenever I returned home for a visit, there would be a candle burning, often in my room.

A candle has many uses other than lighting. They are also valuable for mood setting, covering odors of deep fried foods or camouflaging mouse infestations, and message sending.

Message sending. This is not in reference to smoke signals, although a candle may suffice in a pinch. The messages sent by lighted candles are simple unspoken words of love. For me, a candle communicates, “Welcome Home.” Never was Esther’s lighted candle so appreciated as it was Christmastime 1983.

Bonnie, the Baby, and I were traveling home from Southwest Idaho to Southeast Idaho for Christmas. Young, single, and not very wise nor well-prepared, we were anxious to hurry home for the holidays and left Boise at 5:00 pm in a light snowstorm on December 23. The trouble with light snowstorms in Southwest Idaho is not only Southwestern Idahoans’ lack of winter driving experience, but also the fact that the storm’s counterpart in Southeast Idaho is most likely a blizzard.

The light snowstorm increased in severity as we traveled eastward. Halfway between our point of departure and our destination, at about 7:30 pm, the storm became so vigorous that the gas line in Bonnie’s Mustang began to freeze up. When this phenomenon occurs, the engine behaves as if the fuel tank is empty and the vehicle comes to a stop. Being quite familiar with the behavior of empty gas tanks, I proceeded to berate her for neglecting to fuel the car. She assured me this was not the case and we began to strategize. Hazards on. Wait patiently for help. Surely someone would come to the rescue. One problem. Folks don’t like to stop on freeways in blizzards at night. Second problem. Folks have difficulty seeing in blizzards. Third problem. Hazard lights don’t last long in blizzards.

The whiteout was severe enough that we could not determine our exact location. Not that it would do any good as this was in the days before cell phones. We waited. Our only hope was to attract attention and communicate the need for help. We began taking turns standing behind the car and waving the only signal item we had, a white grocery bag! We prayed. As the hazard lights were beginning to dim, we prayed some more and gave up on the white flag waving.

We were becoming most discouraged when not one, but two vehicles transporting Good Samaritans stopped to lend a hand. We were offered a ride to town, where we enlisted the help of a garage and tow truck. Bonnie then returned to the scene, accompanying the tow truck driver in an attempt to locate our abandoned vehicle. Several hours later the gas line was thawed and we continued our trek across state. As we reentered the freeway, we discovered that the blizzard was continuing to rage. The white out persisted, but we miraculously arrived home about 2:30 am December 24. As we pulled into the drive, I caught sight of a candle still burning in the window. What a relief! Its flickering glow seemed to communicate, “I’m waiting.”

Esther’s version of the story is quite different as she was the lighter of the candle. She has spoken of the relief experienced when she observed the glow of the Mustang’s headlights coming up the road. She saw the lights and knew we were safe.

Now I don’t know if those burning candles were used to set a mood, cover up the odor of a seldom used basement, or send a message, but they were a comfort to me. My own children are maturing and have occasion to be away from home. I have taken up the torch, as it were. A lighted candle now burns while I await their safe return. Mood setting? Maybe. Mostly, I burn the candle in remembrance of the relief it granted me, as a connection to my own mother concerned for the safe travel of her offspring, and to foster a tradition that I am certain my children will not fully understand until they have youngsters of their own venturing forth into the world. Maybe they too, will say a prayer and light a candle to beckon, “Welcome Home.”

I wish you all a safe and Happy Christmas!

Running Granny Green encourages women, especially grandmothers, to gain greater fitness by providing tips and inspiration to insure long years of joyful grand-parenting. The cookie recipes are a bonus!

Happy Running!

- Carol aka Running Granny Green

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Things I am Grateful for ...

Here is a photo essay of things I am grateful for.  If you find yourself surfing the net today and run across this blog post, I hope these pictures trigger thankful thoughts of your own.



Love of my life!

These guys

All of these!

Temples

The Gospel

Snow!

Palm Trees!

Sunsets



Baby toes!



Gardens

Ice Cream!

Airplanes



Irrigation water and my boat

And cookies!

These are just a few of my favorite things!  What are some of yours?

Happy Thanksgiving and ...

Happy Running!

Grand Teton Relay 2014 - the recap

Just over a year ago I stumbled upon a Facebook page that caught my attention and held it – for a year!  As I pondered the promised adventures of the Grand Teton Relay I was increasingly intrigued and my desire to participate grew with each Facebook post.  I visited the website and imagined what fun it would be to take on this challenge in the land of my roots.  The Tetons loomed in my mind as I began recruiting friends to participate.  I needed twelve runners for a team – twelve runners willing to spend nearly 30 hours cramped in two vehicles while forgoing sleep, hygiene, and nourishment.  These twelve runners would be asked to cover about 180 miles of some of the most majestic country in the world.  I began recruiting. I didn’t miss an opportunity to talk to runners at sporting events, church functions, and social gatherings.  I found it difficult to find twelve willing parties.  In the end I found I had assembled a team of some of the best people in the world! My team consisted of six men and six women.  Four of the runners had completed a marathon.  Three more had completed half marathons.  Three were in their twenties.  Three more were not-so-young.  Four were family. Two team members kind of hate to run. One only recently took up running and loves it.  None of the team had ever competed in a distance relay.  We didn’t really know what we were getting into. Our team name?  No Common Sense - Cons on the Run!

I have done some very cool things in my day, but this one ranks right up there with the best.  The Grand Teton Relay, or GTR as I will henceforth refer, was everything I had anticipated and more. I knew the scenery would be spectacular, for I had witnessed it before.  What I didn’t expect was the added bonus of a short summer storm that granted a variety of lighting (and lightening) to enhance the views.  As I stood in Ashton surveying the view of the Tetons in front of me and the evergreen covered hills of Island Park to my left, I formed a mental picture of the challenge we were about to undertake.  Our journey would take us to the east side of those majestic peaks!  It still boggles my mind. Several of our team had never witnessed this beautiful area.  I was so excited for them, but mostly for myself!

There is something special about shared discomfort, shared trials, shared pain.  Those shared experiences bond people together.  The GTR did that for No Common Sense and it happened in 30 short hours!

As No Common Sense began the relay, thunder and lightening and a down pour also commenced!  Our first participant, a not so eager runner, sprinted for a free sweatshirt.  He came up empty handed, arriving third, but he delighted his teammates and got us off to a great beginning.  The rain subsided after his four mile run and the day grew warmer. 

Fun Fact: Some people smile always.  So it was with our navigator, water boy, and runner, Andy.

The first twelve legs of the relay were challenging for most of the team.  We are lowlanders, residing at 2200’ above sea level, and we climbed into Island Park from 5300’ to as high as 7600’! Our youngest and strongest runner was battling bronchitis. We were adjusting to the elevation and anticipating the challenges of sleep deprivation and multiple runs in a few short hours. A stop for sightseeing at Mesa Falls and an attempt at a nap in some tall grass along Marysville Road helped Van 1 rejuvenate and prepare for our night run.

Fun Fact:  My father was born in Marysville. Marysville isn’t really there anymore – just the road. I didn’t know where we were napping until I returned home and reviewed the course map.

Another Fun Fact:  Night running is not as scary as I had expected.  In fact, it was my favorite leg of the course.

My second leg went something like this.  Having discovered that there is no way to recognize a night runner coming into the transition with only a headlamp and reflective vest in view, we determined to yell something creative.  “Prison Break” sounded like a fun option.  I also decided I would text Van 2 when I saw the “One Mile To Go” marker to let them know I would be arriving in a few minutes.  Well … this leg was back to 6000’ in elevation, it was cooler, there was no lightening of which I had been most concerned, and Steve Miller Band kept me company, especially this song! Take the Money and Run!

Nor was there any “One Mile To Go” marker!  I was running well, for me because I had adjusted to the elevation, etc.  I came upon the transition unexpectedly and began yelling, “Prison Break! PRISON BREAK! Where’s my runner!” He soon emerged from the restroom and was off and running!  Poor guy!  I cooled down with a cup of hot chocolate at the Tetonia City Park.

Another Fun Fact: Night runners can and may undress a little bit on a run and nobody will be the wiser.  This we learned from one of the nicest girls on the planet! Go figure.

And this one:  It is possible for volunteer drivers to sleep on top of their Suburban and inside of their Thule cargo carrier.

While Van 2 completed their night legs from Tetonia to Driggs and finished at the base of Targhee Ski Resort, we enjoyed a quick shower and another attempt at a few winks at Teton High School.  It is difficult to sleep when your babies are running relay races.  My two boys were in Van 2. After about an hour and a half of unsuccessful shut eye, we headed up Ski Hill Road to meet Van 2 and begin the last legs of our relay.

As each runner completed his/her last run and returned to the vehicle, the mood inside the Suburban became lighter. We had been enjoying the experience throughout, but the relief and satisfaction that came with each participant’s completion of the goal was contagious. Poor Van 2.

Fun Fact: Keep this one for future reference if you plan to participate in the GTR next year.  Van 1 has a much easier task than Van 2. The terrain is easier.  Van 1 gets right to the running while Van 2 waits several hours in anticipation. Van 1 finishes first – before TETON PASS!

I finished my last leg in Victor and handed off to the “Middle-aged Dentist Looking Fellow” who began the ascent of Teton Pass.  I could feel a sense of dread from my Van 2 teammates.  Van 1, on the other hand, was ready to party!

Teton Pass – 6200’ to 8438’ - four men!  The first climbed 561’ in 5.7 miles.  The second climbed 550 feet in 3.8 miles.  The third climbed 1192’ in 2.6 miles! The last descended 2300’ in 5.8 miles!

Fun Fact: The big brother is the little brother.

Two final runners took us from Wilson into Teton Village where we joined the party at the finish line! We soaked our feet in the cold water running through the resort.  I can’t remember what there was to eat, but I do remember the angel that massaged my feet and ankles!  I didn’t get her name, but I wanted to bring her home with me!

In the end, we finished in just under 29 hours.  I was hoping for thirty! We were faster than more than half of the teams! The weather was beautiful and there were no injuries or vehicle breakdowns.  We survived elevation, sleep deprivation, hunger, sweat, discomfort, and Sasquatch!  I lost two toe nails. Most importantly, we gained family members through our shared experience.  When we returned home we couldn’t stop talking about it.  Our friends who did not participate surely grew weary of our continued accounts.  They may think we have no common sense.  They may be correct.

Until next year … Go Team No Common Sense!

Feel free to comment on this post with your favorite memories of Grand Teton Relay 2014

Happy Running!

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I've been busy living life and neglecting the blog!

I realized the other day that life is what is happening while I'm not writing.  Well, I haven't been writing much so here is a bit of what I have been doing.

I have been picking tomatoes so I can eat this!

Tomatoes, Mozzarella, basil, and balsamic vinegar!

 And removing my toe polish so I can examine the nails that are going to fall off.

This is what happens while training for half marathons

 

 

And covering them with blue polish so nobody can see the nasty nails!

Much better!

 

And running with these folks ...

XC Team ready for a trail run

So I can hang out with these guys..

 

And do this!


Yup, that's me!

 

It's a tough life!