Month: December 2014

Montana Summertime

Every summer we go home to Montana, where soda is pop, the sun is up til’ 10pm, and the kids run barefoot in the grass, climb trees and make new friends.Montana living is different. Making a home and life in California makes it easy to see those differences. Things are less complicated. There are fewer people and distractions. There fewer places you think you need be or things you think you should be doing…..or maybe that is just vacation. Hylite outside of Bozeman. Photo Credit: Aunt Kathy

Eight Anniversary of Coming Home

December tenth doesn’t mean much to my enthusiastic 8 year old. He doesn’t get presents and it isn’t his birthday. To me however, this day never goes by without a moment to note its very special significance. Today will always be the day we brought our first born home from his 96 day stay at California Pacific Medical Center. It was a long sleepless night for all of us. I was terrified. I had convinced myself that babies were best cared for under the twenty-four hour attention of highly trained medical professionals and, maybe he was better off there until he is was one year old. Something so natural as bringing your baby home from the hospital seemed inconceivable for me at that time. He seemed so safe in the hospital. Bringing him home felt equivalent to running a mountain ridge with scissors in your hand. First Ride in the car. Destination? Home! Of course it was time and ready or not he was coming home leaving behind the sanitized medical facility for the warm …

Why we run for more

There is that moment where you know you are about to accomplish something really big. Something you have thought about often, worked towards, or dreamed of doing. You realize you’re doing it and you grin from ear to ear; and maybe even tears roll down your cheeks. At CLIF we call this Meet the Moment.After Eric was born I did not begin running again for a long time. It was one of many things that fell away because I only had enough strength, attention, energy, and focus for him. I was barely capable of speaking or eating let alone running. But two months after he came home, running was calling me back and I answered.It was an overcast day in February in the Richmond district of San Francisco, our home at the time. It probably took me longer to put my running clothes on than it did to actually run. I was apprehensive, afraid to leave Eric’s side even in the capable hands of his Dadda. You see, I watched him, held him, fed him …