Tales of the Ordinary Days

Zach driving Jim to Colorado last spring. En route to Jimi's new home.  A boy and his dog. I have thought of this phrase often observing Zach and his brothers with their dog, Jimi (the Hedrix version of the name). Although I have always loved this sweet dog, he was not mine. The boys' dad added Jimi to their family shortly after we divorced. But it didn't take long to fall in love with this amiable canine personality. Introduced in the stands of a grade school baseball game, I instantly knew why my boys were so drawn to this sweet pup. An epitome of the lovable lab from the movie, Marley and Me, Jimi never met a stranger and affectionately welcomed everyone he encountered. Those eyes would look at you for acceptance and affirmation in the form of a quick pet and rub under the ear. That's all it took and you had a friend for life. Jim was a good dog. I distinctly remember texting my sister-in-law, Robbie, asking how the boys were doing shortly after beginnin...

Post-run cheers on a sunny day in July a year ago. The reason for celebration ultimately turned into a bust. But the celebration of a friendship and being at each other's side every step of the way is real. Garrett refers to my running friends as my gal pals. We wake at the crack of dawn to run, cutting it up through the morning darkness. 5:30 is our meet time. And depending on the meeting point and travel time involved, our average alarm wake-up call is 5:15 a.m. "So what did you and your gal pals talk about this morning?" is a typical Garrett question. I then brief my curious husband on our specific subjects over the approximate 55 minutes of run time together. They generally include analysis of our life while rehashing events from our last run and humor in our daily musings. We certainly don't take ourselves too seriously. But we equally take very seriously our role in being each other's accountability partners; the most influential personal boar...