To Do Before Friday at 2:30:

Sunday morning:  The Big Show.  My kids thought they were debuting on Broadway (not that we like to make things all about us.)  The planning/practicing/kid-herding for this annual event has loomed over my (and many others') head(s) for some time, and through what can only be described as divine intervention, it went off without a hitch.  I'd even say it was beautiful, especially when my little ladies performed.  Rachael played lovely prelude music on the piano, and Megan played a lovely solo (Teach Me to Walk) on her violin.  Even Ethan knew all the words to the songs and sang them with...let's just call it gusto.  Suffice it to say that nobody in the congregation could miss Ethan Smith's performance up on the stand.  As an ironic bonus, he was seated next to the Bishop for the entire meeting.  Sometimes I wish video cameras were allowed in church.

Sunday afternoon:  Wonderful home teachers visit with a nice message, save one hiccup:  they brought a large, clear jar of colorful m&ms and set it on the coffee table before us.

 We all stared longingly while pretending to listen to said message.  Afterward, we were ready to dive in when our usually kind home teacher informed us that we could only have one m&m every time we did an act of service.  He'd even written "Service Jar" on the glass with permanent marker.  Was he kidding?  As soon as he left, we started backlogging everything we'd done in the last few weeks that could qualify as service:  housework, churchwork, homework, ab-work.  We rewarded ourselves amply.

Sunday evening:  Looking forward to a primaryprogramless week and lots of fun Halloween activities.  Any ideas on a couples' costume that my husband will actually be seen in?  Am I the only one who thinks his face lends itself to a vampire disguise?  (The jaw, the abnormal frowning ability...somehow it just works.)

I've never considered myself a Real Runner. Real Runners wear overpriced Nike gear, drink "goo," and run marathons. Well, last weekend I did all three and though I still won't put myself in the Real Runner category, I'll certainly stake my claim as a very excited wannabe. I ran my first marathon, and what an experience! I could write pages (as you surely know), but I will restrain myself and give you the highlights:

No injuries: My knee miraculously healed, and I ran like a dream. I felt fantastic the whole way, except for the last two miles when my body decided it was done. I pushed through it, though, and finished with a smile. I was so excited!

Perfect weather and unparalleled scenery. Anyone who's been to Southern Utah knows that the world turns pink when the sun comes up, which is when we started our run. We had front row seats to the desert's best. Breathtaking.

Accomodating staff: Maybe I was just a doe-eyed newbie, but boy, did it feel like we were in good hands. The runners were provided with water, gatorade, fruit, power bars, muscle cream, vaseline, and even goo along the way (although that was more of a punishment--imagine having your throat injected with a cup of rotten caramel while you're panting for air). We were met at the finish line with misters, medals, flowers (if your husband's as sweet as mine), and a parkful of free goodies. Who said Real Runners were healthy eaters? Everyone went straight for the free soda and ice cream. That's when I knew I was among friends.

Good--no, great--company: In addition to the thrill of running the race, I got to do it with my good friend, Wendy Sunderlage, whom I haven't seen in years, and her sister Kerry and good friend April. What a fun and encouraging group of gals to sweat with! We talked and laughed and almost cried together. Wendy's sister provided us a huge, lovely home to stay the weekend in with enough beds for everyone--the most important thing pre-race! Her parents were also in town and were so generous, cooking for us and helping us get ready. After the race we showered and layed around for awhile, then went to "Five Guys" burger joint for dinner. Either it was the post-race appetite or that was about the tastiest hamburger I've ever had. Wendy's husband, Rob, is a good friend of ours, too, and does alot of climbing with Derrick. Laughing and hanging out with these generous, funny friends was as meaningful as finishing the race. I'm so glad we've kept it touch over the years.

I was scared silly about this whole thing but, as everyone who's ever run a marathon promised me I would, I now just feel giddy. And grateful. I feel thankful, thankful, blessed and lucky and thankful: for health and strength and dear friends and red rock and no blisters and misters and free ice cream and hot showers. But mostly for my husband, who's listened to me obsess over this for weeks and has not only endured it, but has treated me like royalty through the entire experience.

And, yes, I'm also thankful that it's over. Now you don't have to hear about it anymore, and I can go back to blogging about the things I do best: watching bad movies and forgetting important stuff. No posing there!