Oh man, what a year.

Twenty-thirteen will go down as an epic running year for any number of reasons. The biggest, obviously, was the marathon - which, by the way, I had no designs on running when the year first started. It was not a New Year's resolution or even a goal. It was a distant thought, a casual mention that sprouted in the desert heat of July. So if you start this year without a serious running goal, have faith; you never know what you'll sign up for later!

No, the year started with a lot of non-running. I spent the first quarter at boot camp and tennis lessons. I landed myself in physical therapy for all of April under strict orders to stop all activity until my back felt better. (I cheated and still went to boot camp anyway. Shh...) I threw myself into the therapeutic exercises willingly, wanting to get through more than seven miles without aching lower back pain. Taking a break from running was scary; I wasn't sure if I'd go back. What if this was it?

But the therapy worked and by June, my 5K-a-Day Challenge started. Getting through the first three days almost killed me (and my alarm clock). I was a grumpy, sleepy runner that once ate asphalt on Town Center at 5:35 in the morning. I swore a lot that first week. By day 8, I stopped asking questions, ignored the voices in my head, and just kept running. 

The conclusion was worth it; spanning three states and thirty days, running across the Golden Gate Bridge was nothing short of spectacular. With August came a new challenge, and while jumping roping 1,000x/day for thirty days was totally boring and painful, I really credit it for strengthening my feet. I also was finally able move past the "double jump" that made me feel like a grade schooler. Moving the rope faster and more confident made me feel like a boxer. Move over, Mayweather... maybe I'll add try some fancy moves in the new year...

In September, the mental importance of this game hit home after a disastrous night run. I purchased no less than nine books on running in an effort to wrap my mind around the task at hand.

(My favorite, Born to Run, is currently on loan to a friend.)

Finding out that everyone pukes, gets dehydrated, and wants to die during long runs made me feel a lot better. (I know, that's a weird statement.) I figured out that you have to override your survival instincts in an effort to find reserves you didn't know you had. Terrifying but liberating. Which is why in the weeks after the marathon, I kept saying, "I get it. I really get it!" I'm not sure what "it" was, but in the moment, I knew. I just wish I had written my thoughts down before I forgot and the feelings faded (which it did). Next time, I'm bringing a note pad with me at the finish.

There was a new PR for the Red Rock Half (2:15 with serious elevation), a new PR at a 5K (27:14), and of course, the completion of the big one. I went through four pairs of shoes, ripped two pairs of running pants, ate countless gels, and am in the process of (possibly) losing one or two toenails (jury is still out on whether or not they will fall off). During my first speed workout on a treadmill, I choked back vomit, Nicholas Cage smirked at me, and got zapped by the damn thing. I ran on my birthday, I ran in the dark, I ran when it rained, and I ran when I didn't want to run anymore. Sometimes I ran mad, occasionally I ran sad, but mostly, I ran happy. Through it all, I just kept running.

I managed to stay uninjured, which I attribute to the main overhaul of my diet in the fall of 2013. I took out animal products and subbed in all kinds of exotic-sounding items (to me, at least), like miso, nutritional yeast, and tumeric. Eating primarily plants helped shed ten pounds and soon, moving my frame across this grand Earth felt a tiny bit easier. As I learned, too, running is never easy; but it does get easier.

I think most of all, beyond any of the physical or mental changes running produced, once again, the biggest "win" this year was the reaffirmation of the community to which I belong. While the miles can only be logged by the runner, there are so many others, offering support, sacrifice, and encouragement.  I was truly floored by everyone who was so kind to me during the marathon process and cannot thank you enough. You are what made the whole journey worth it.  I truly believe running unites us. It puts people together that may have never crossed paths. It certainly has brought an extraordinary number of people into my life and for that, I am eternally grateful. I honestly don't know how I got so lucky. As George Sheehan aptly stated, "A world of all runners would be unworkable. But a world without runners would be unlivable."

With that, friends, I wish you well for 2014. The sense of fullness that running has brought me is extraordinary. I only wish I could share this feeling with all of you, like a giant bag of Skittles. Considering I started this whole thing on a whim in August 2011, I had no idea the process would be so fulfilling. And so damn emotional. Maybe I'll stop crying next year.

Peace, love, and to many more happy miles --

Kim

Sometimes the best journeys aren't necessarily from east to west, or from ground to summit, but from heart to head. Between them we find our voice. -- Jeremy Collins

Call me conspicuously delinquent, but we haven't taken family photos in over three years. Ugh, it pains me to type that. I don't know why or what the hang up was, but after Scotty's first birthday, we just kind of forgot about it.  Life kept rolling along and my crappy iPhone camera seemed to suffice. Mind you, images of the three of us all together are few and far between. We know we are a family; that's the important thing, right?

Well, cue my very talented and clever friend Jessica. She was on Communications Committee the year I chaired, and I honestly would have been lost without her design help and photography skills. She recently started a little photography business, and I'm so glad she is now offering her exceptional skill set to the general public.

Our original plan was to frolic in the snow on Mount Charleston with mugs of hot cocoa. The weather, however, had other ideas. Having worked up there for three years, I can tell you definitively: if you can't see the mountain, you shouldn't be on the mountain. Those low hanging, ominous clouds looked terribly foreboding. Combined with whipping, unforgiving winds, our snow-date got shelved and we decided to keep indoors.

The best thing about Jess is that she makes you feel comfortable immediately. We are not the easiest family to photograph. I like to micro manage, Brian's natural smile takes a bit of coercing, and Scotty was on silliness overload. Somehow, she pulled us together with some gentle guidance and the promise of tiny marshmallows.  She also made our house look pretty good. You can barely see the crumbs ground into the rug. Twinkling Christmas lights, anyone?

And as you can see, your kid is still your kid, even on family photo day.

And you are still you. Brian and I had the unfortunate mistake of staying out a wee bit too late on Friday. It was date night! There was an Irish bar involved! I'm still in post-marathon celebration mode! (how long is she going to keep talking about that damn marathon?  you wonder...Forever, I reply) and that made for a rough morning. As Jess snapped photos for lighting and Brian made a quick run to CVS for Advil, she captured this winner.

Just call me McKayla Maroney. I was not impressed with how slowly the coffee was brewing. Or the pounding in my head.

But the goods worked their magic and Brian and I quickly perked up.

I quite like this one. I feel a bit like the Queen Mother. Yes, royal subjects, please stand while I remain seated...

Or this one. I didn't tell Jess, but this is the train my dad made for Scotty. Having it in the photos was incredibly important to me. She seemed to grasp its emotional significance almost intuitively, and it's in practically every shot.

We even headed out to a nearby tree farm for some outdoor shots once the weather improved. 

Yup, that's our kid.

I cant' tell you the excitement of seeing our little family all together in one shot. Thank you, Jessica!

Remember last year when I was all, "Sacrifice November!"? I intended to use the thirty days prior to December to prep for the holidays to ensure a smooth, stress-free holiday season. I had Christmas in a choke-hold. Preparation is key, right?

Yeah, it didn't happen this year. Not only did I forget to sacrifice November, I lost track of time completely.

In fact, due to Marathon Madness, I essentially forgot about Thanksgiving all together. It wasn't until about a week before Turkey Day did a friend ask me what we had planned for dinner. "What dinner?" I asked naively, thinking it was still weeks away. At that point, my internal calendar read "Four Days Post-Marathon," not "Seven Days Until T-Day."

Instead of panicking, which I probably would have done in years past, a lovely sense of calm pervaded. Maybe my brain was still bathed in the endorphin shower from the race or maybe I've just mentally re-calibrated everything in my life on a new scale called "I Just Ran A Marathon...This Sh*t Doesn't Matter."

Either way, I simply picked up the phone, made dinner reservations, and continued on my merry way.

Who knew? Running for four hours (...and forty-four minutes...and fifty-eight seconds...) with Reinier cured my lifelong battle with anxiety. All these years, for both clients and myself, I've toted cognitive-behavioral therapy and the positives of pharmaceuticals. I should have just pointed them in the direction of the nearest running store and we could have all gone out for a run. 

And so, I'm happy to report that while the holidays are happening all around us, some buffer in my brain refuses to buy into the stress that comes with it. You know what? Things are going great. The house is still standing. The sun continues to rise. Who knew??

Our Thanksgiving was awesome. I sipped Sancerre while Brian had a pumpkin beer. Taking a brief break from veganism, the turkey Wellington was definitely worth it. I only wish Gordon Ramsay would do something about their reptile problem...

The trees are up.

Scotty really got into it this year. There may be an inappropriate number of ornaments hung approximately 44 inches or lower on the tree, but what can you do? I love that he wanted to participate. The trees might be a little bottom heavy but they were created with love.

Scotty even wrote a letter to the big guy. Please note, this is the heavily edited version.

It says, "Dear Santa, I want fish, please. Love, Scotty."

The original version, which he dictated to me, said something along the lines of:

Dear Santa,

I would like sharks for Christmas. Lots and lots of sharks! I'd like a great white shark, a white-tipped reef shark, a basking shark, a lemon shark, a zebra shark, a mako shark, a leopard shark, a nursing shark, a whale shark, and a six-gilled blunt nose shark. I've been really good. I'm a big kid. I chew gum now.

Love, Scott

Finally, we're baking up a storm. Yes, there is sugar, butter, and white flour in these cookies. And yes, I've had a couple. (how can you resist?) But different than years past, I'm not eating meals of cookies followed by chocolate pieces washed down with wine. I feel so good eating the way I am, I even brought a little vegan feast to the Board meeting last night for Junior League.

The chocolate carob chia pudding was met with mixed results, but I thought it was gorgeous (and tasty!). The vegan chili was a hands-down total success. Score!

Either way, I hope this finds all of you enjoying the month we are currently in. My house may not be spotless and my holiday cards haven't been sent yet, but who cares? This is the best running weather of the year. I'd rather get in a few miles than lick stamps any day.