With my original goal race behind me, I needed a new plan. A new goal. I decided to take a break from the distance races for a bit to see what I might be able to accomplish in a 5K.
Until last week, the only other 5K I’d ever run was my very first race back in June, which I finished in 36:48. My training since that race had included zero speed work, but I wondered if all the miles I’d logged could still add up to a faster 5K pace.
I needed to test the theory, so when buddies Nikki and Andrew said they were coming into town to run a night-time 5K on Tybee Island, I signed up too. The allure of running with buddies was so strong that Lee even signed up for his first 5K. The four of us are on a virtual “Street Team” with the RunKeeper app during our training runs – it was time to get the Street Team together for real.
After a week of sunlit runs and warm weather, I showed up on Tybee in a running skirt and short sleeves. As soon as I opened the car door I knew I’d made a mistake. Clouds obscured the sun and a wicked wind was blowing from the ocean. Freezing, I was even more grateful for friends as we huddled together, doing sporadic jumping jacks for warmth while we waited for the race to begin.
We all had our own goals – mine was just to beat my previous 5K time. Finally, the race was underway and the four of us spread out, but it was encouraging to know they were there, that I had friends in the sea of racers.
The first two miles went by ok – I didn’t have pre-set intervals but allowed myself a few walking strides now and then to catch my breath. I’m so used to running conservatively, afraid that in those first miles of a half-marathon I might push too hard and ruin the rest of the run. But when I began the third and final mile of the 5K, I thought, “What’s the worst that will happen if you run really hard right now? You won’t die. You won’t be unable to finish. One mile is all that’s left!”
So I dug in. I’d programmed a running playlist that I estimated would have me crossing the finish line during the last song. But suddenly, I didn’t want to hear the last song. I was on the second-to-last song and I could see that chute up ahead. I pushed harder.
I finished the race in 33:02, the fastest I’ve ever run 3.1 miles. I know it’s not lightening fast and I’ll never win any awards for it, but it was a great time for me. And now that I have a new baseline 5K time, I have new goals to try to beat in my next races. I’d love to run a sub-30 minute 5K, and that goal doesn’t seem undoable anymore.
Best of all was sharing that finish line with great friends, with breathless hugs and huge smiles all around. Lee had a great race – I don’t know that I converted him into a racing fan, but he ran well and I was grateful to share the experience with him.
After the race, we ducked into a local pizza place to escape the wind and the cold, and warmed up with a celebratory beer. Cheers to my street team – I’d run with them any day!
And now for part two of a month that could not be recapped in one post!
As I said when wrapping up your last letter, one of your Christmas gifts from us was a trip to Disney World. The trip was something we’d been planning for quite a while because I was running a race there. But also as part of your gift, we signed you up for a Disney kid race too.
When I ran my first half-marathon last fall,
you were very supportive during my training – except you kept hoping I’d
come in first. I had to keep reinforcing that crossing the finish line
was the same as winning for me, because no way was mama coming in first!
Once that sank in, you tried to console me and said, “Mama, I wish the
winner was the one who ran the slowest. Then you could win!”
Um, thanks?
You
were very excited for me on that November race day until our post-race
reunion when you spied the finisher’s medal around my neck. You wanted
me to give it you – not to share it with you or let you wear it (which I
did), but to let it be yours (which I did not). Sorry babe – I’m willing to give you lots of things but I worked hard for that bling!
So when we were planning our Disney trip, I was delighted to
discover that there were kid races that same weekend – kid races with
medals for all finishers!
Our first day at Disney was race day.
You proudly donned your new running outfit, and I squealed when we
picked up your race bib and I saw it had your name printed on the front. So exciting!
We
arrived early enough for you to get in a warm-up run. Your Daddy and I
assumed you were just going to do a couple of quick sprints, so we
didn’t follow when you took off down the track. Our mistake, because we
watched in surprise as you kept going and going until you were a tiny speck.
As
you rounded the track back toward us, I realized you were a tiny-and-tearful
speck because you’d run so far away that you couldn’t find us.
We
recovered from that initial upset and it was finally time for your 200-meter race. Your Daddy ran with you and I positioned myself near the finish line
with my camera. I was so
proud of your great effort, and you were thrilled to finally have a
finisher’s medal of your own – with Mickey on it no less!
To celebrate, we had lunch at our favorite restaurant – T-Rex in Downtown Disney. You were excited to bring your beloved apatosaurus, Pinky, who you got at that restaurant last year. You introduced her to some of her long-necked family members and then took her with you on a dino dig.
During our trip we managed to hit all four parks. They were still decorated for Christmas making them even more spectacular than usual – a real treat.
Highlights included our favorite rides from Magic Kingdom like Dumbo and It’s a Small World. You were immensely proud of yourself for braving the “scary” Lilo and Stitch ride this time and you loved it.
We loved the Toy Story ride at Hollywood Studios and the 3D Muppet movie, although your favorite ride was the Star Tours ride (much to your Daddy’s delight).
Lunch at Hollywood Studios was a super fun meal at the Sci-Fi Dine-In Theater, where we were seated in classic cars and entertained by old, horrible movies that were supposed to be scary but were really funny. You threw your arm around your Dad and loved the whole thing.
One of the nights, I went to bed early to get ready for my race while you and your Daddy headed to Epcot for the evening. You toured the aquarium and saw a Nemo show. In comparison with some of our other adventures it doesn’t sound like a lot, but when anyone asks you which park was your favorite, you say Epcot. I think you felt like a very big girl getting to stay up past your bedtime and be in the parks after dark with your Daddy.
Animal Kingdom was a lot of fun and was where you picked out your souvenir from the trip – a stuffed flying fox bat named Foxy. You proudly flew her all around the park, and I’d hear people around us remark, “Of all the things she could’ve picked – what IS that thing?” Part of me wanted to shoot them dirty looks because I hoped they weren’t making you feel badly for having unusual (and adorable) tastes in toys. I happen to love this about you. But you seemed to enjoy the extra attention you got for having chosen something unique, so all was well.
Animal Kingdom has an area called DinoLand USA which was right up your alley. You loved the triceratops ride and the corythosaurus playground area.
But you were stunned, absolutely stunned to see this giant T-Rex fossil statue which is a replica of your beloved Sue, the T-Rex at the Field Museum in Chicago. The look on your face says it all – this dinosaur is your Justin Bieber.
I hope you will be able to remember this trip as you grow older. I know these are special memories I will always treasure.
I love you very much sweet girl.
My recent blogging hiatus is not due to lack of material. On the contrary, there are a lot of things I’d like to blog about but I’m suffering from a lack of time. So now, a game of catch up.
Three weeks ago I ran the Disney Marathon Relay. This was the mack-daddy – THE goal race – with my running partner and I each running one half-marathon. Having run the Savannah Rock-N-Roll half in November, I was confident I could do the necessary miles to finish the race. I continued to train after the November race, keeping up with all my long runs, but with a new, lingering soreness that had me worried. It wasn’t a severe pain or anything, but just a nagging soreness I felt with every run. A soreness I believed should have disappeared within a week of the November race.
So in a last-ditch effort to have myself in top running condition for race day, I opted to try an ice bath, as I’ve heard they can help draw out soreness post-race and prep your muscles pre-race.
Holy frijoles it was cold. Getting in the bath was the worst part, but once I was in and settled, it really wasn’t so bad. I sat there for 20 minutes until the ice had melted, and then got out to pack for our trip, hoping the bath had done the trick.
I don’t guess I’ll ever know for sure if the ice bath helped, but it definitely didn’t hurt because I had a really good race. With this race I had two goals – I wanted to beat my time at the Rock N Roll half (although I’d done absolutely no speed work to accomplish that goal), and I wanted to finish with strength.
Disney does a great job organizing the races, with excellent race support at the start/finish line and at every mile. But the one negative about Disney races – they start EARLY. I see the logic – they want to get a majority of runners through the parks before the park visitors surge in the gates. But when my alarm went off at 2:55 a.m., I was not feeling excited to race. I was feeling sleepy and grumpy.
We hopped on a bus to the staging area, and my mood did not improve. It was around 3:30 in the morning, pretty chilly, and there was a DJ trying to pump up the race crowd with the throbbing bass of club music. Rather than energizing me, it made me want to take the bus back to my hotel and my pillow.
But thankfully, there was coffee at the staging area, and once I had my bagel and caffeine (as far away from the thumping bass as I could get), I was feeling better.
The race began at 5:30 a.m., with each wave of racers sent off under a sky filled with fireworks and flames.
The miles began ticking by and I felt pretty good. 
The course was a real mixed bag – running through the parks was AWESOME, but in a span of 13 miles, the parks are very short. There was a lot of running on back roads, through parking lots, on overpasses and other areas that were less than stimulating. Thankfully, the parks made up for it. Running through Magic Kingdom was my favorite because it is a place full of good memories for me. I couldn’t help but feel happy to be there, even though it was mile 11 and I was tired.
In the Rock N Roll half, I had wanted to run the last mile without walk breaks, but was just too tired and had to walk. At the Disney race though, I was feeling pretty good coming up to mile marker 12 and was determined to run through to the finish. Without meaning to, I’d run the first half of the race more slowly than usual just because of the thick crowd of racers. But I think that may be why I had some extra fuel at the end. I ran that last mile and even sprinted to the finish.
And happily, I beat my Rock N Roll finish time – barely. I am nothing if not consistent! My Rock N Roll time was 2:43:50. My Disney race time was 2:43:08. My relay partner did very well (she’s much faster than I am!), and we finished in the top 25% of women relay runners, so yay us!
I had planned to spend the rest of that day relaxing and recovering in the hotel room while Lee and Camille toured Animal Kingdom. But thankfully, I felt strong enough that I just grabbed a quick shower and met them at the park for a day of walking around and riding rides. Maybe that ice bath did help after all!
It was a good race. The only negative is that, now that it’s over, I have to figure out what’s next. That Disney race had been a goal of mine for 9 months, a motivator that got me out of bed and into my running shoes even on days when I didn’t want to run. Thankfully, in the three weeks since that race I have been faithful to my three-day-a-week running schedule, but I do feel a little adrift without a specific plan to follow.
But a plan is beginning to form. I would like to be a little faster, so I think this spring I will focus on improving my 5K distance pace. Then come summer, I’ll probably launch back into my half-marathon training program in preparation to run the Rock N Roll half again in the fall. And maybe that spring speed work will help me improve my half-marathon time by more than 42 seconds.
So last night I ran a 5K to get a new baseline 5K time. And I got to run that 5K with Lee, Nikki and Andrew – a HUGE plus! It’s a post for another day, but hopefully one day soon.
Forget that it’s January. Forget that it’s winter. It was 75 degrees and sunny today, so we took out a boat.
Lee and Camille wanted to try out their new fishing poles. We had a good time, but we also discovered that we don’t know much about fishing. My dad took me fishing as a child and Lee’s been fishing several times, but neither of us ever learned much about the tackle or technique. But I’m looking forward to learning.
No fish were caught, but I was just happy to be on the water, the sun on my face, the sound of the pelicans diving for all those fish we weren’t catching. No complaints here.
Hello sweet bear and Happy 66 Months! I am feeling like this particular post should be renamed, as it might be more appropriate to call it Book to Camille. We’ve made some wonderful memories in this last month, and it’s overwhelming to think about condensing them all into a single letter. That’s why I’m going to split this into two instead.
Where to begin? First up – I’ve been making a list of some of the bits of wisdom you’ve shared with us over the past month. Like when we were at Mr. Glen’s home in the mountains of Big Canoe and talking about the wildlife. Somehow we got on the subject of carnivores, and I was expressing sympathy for the prey. I keep waiting for you to feel sorry for the animals we eat (I often do), but you are so pragmatic about it.
You summed it up in one simple phrase. “Well,” you said, “you gotta eat, you gotta kill.” Where do you get this stuff?
I also laughed when, for what must have seemed like the millionth time to you, I used the phrase, “Just a minute!” when I needed your patience. You sighed, and to no one in particular you announced, “Sometimes ‘just a minute’ is actually a really long time.” So true.
Another day we were in the car listening to a kids’ radio show and the DJ was talking about his birthday. He said adult birthdays aren’t as exciting as kid birthdays. To which you replied, “He just doesn’t want to be one year closer to being dead.”
Ouch. But true.
When I became an adult, I also thought that Christmas as an adult would never quite compare to Christmas as a child. But that was because I had not imagined how great it would be to celebrate Christmas with my own child. To be the person behind the scenes helping create the magic. Watching that magic unfold for you.
This year, Christmas Eve was balmy and bright, so we baked our Santa cookies and then sat at a table in our backyard to decorate. As usual, your cookies were 1/2 icing, 1/4 sprinkles and 1/4 actual sugar cookie – just how you like them.
That evening, we attended the Christmas Eve program at church – a beautiful service of candlelight and my favorite of the year. Your patience through the lengthy service was rewarded at the end, when you were entrusted with your own lit candle to carry out onto the church steps. The entire congregation gathered there, each person with his own candle, and we sang carols.
And this year, you really knew your carols. Earlier in the month we went caroling at the nursing homes of some of our church members. We got a booklet of songs for reference, and a few people were given hand chimes to play.
Last year, unable to read and not knowing the songs, you amused me by singing “Frosty the Snowman” as the rest of us sang carols. But this year, you and I had practiced some of the carols in advance and you could also read some of the songs.
And then – THEN – you were handed a chime.
You were suddenly so focused. You studied the booklet with a fierce intensity, trying to read the words and the cues for your chime. Our heads were bowed close together so I could help you read, which was dangerous because you played that chime with such vigor that you often hit me with it. But I couldn’t be annoyed. You were just so committed.
Your clear favorite was “Hark, The Herald Angels Sing.” So you were delighted when, on Christmas Eve, as we all stood on the steps of the church facing Chippewa Square, the congregation began to sing this song. And you sang too, sang as loudly as you could. I wanted to sing, but I couldn’t because my throat grew tight as I watched you and as I tried not to cry. The candlelight flickering on your glowing face. Your voice ringing out so strong and clear. Part of me wanted to scramble for my phone, to get a video of this moment so that I could replay it. Instead I just tried to drink it in so I’d never forget how you sang that night. Your Daddy did manage to get one picture, and I treasure it.
After the service we had our traditional Christmas Eve dinner with oyster stew lovingly prepared by Boo, and soon it was time to chase you into bed so Santa could arrive.
Oh man, Santa had been stressing me out. I swore when I became a parent that I’d always try to be truthful with you, which has made Santa Claus a difficult story to tell. That’s probably why we don’t spend a lot of time talking about him. In fact, when you bring him up I start to get all nervous. What will I do when you ask me if he’s real? I would want to tell you the truth, but age 5 seems too early to unravel that mystery.
This year I got lucky. Once, when we were going to see Santa at a party, you asked, “Will this be the real Santa or someone dressed up like him?” To which I replied, “Good question!” and then promptly distracted you.
Some time later, in the car, you made this announcement. “Some of my friends at school say Santa isn’t real.” I reached for your father’s hand for moral support, and then you went on. “But I think Santa is real.”
There was a pause during which I hoped and hoped you wouldn’t ask for my opinion. And thankfully, you didn’t.
I don’t remember any details about the conversation I had with my parents when I was a child – when I learned the truth about Santa. But I do remember feeling like I had been let in on a big-kid secret. Instead of a disappointment, the knowledge felt like a privilege. I was old enough to know the game. I hope you will see it this way too, whenever that time comes.
This year, on the one hand your Christmas list was short. It’s nice that you’re not yet at an age where you’ve set your hopes on some expensive new “it” toy or gadget. But on the other hand, your main request was unusual. You wanted a stuffed pink narwhal with a shiny golden horn.
Of course, you don’t know that Santa shops at Target and Target doesn’t sell stuffed narwhals. You think his elves can make anything. Thank heavens for Etsy, the website for people making and selling handmade gifts. And thank heavens for the lady who makes stuffed narwhals to order.
You also wanted a unicorn pillow pet, but that completed your list. Santa picked up a few other small things too, and we had fun setting it all out in front of the fireplace next to the sugar cookie and egg nog you’d left for St. Nick.
Christmas morning, you were delighted with all your treasures. One of the biggest hits was your new batgirl costume, and I just love that you’re wearing it in all of our Christmas morning pictures.
Here you are with your super narwhal, also in a cape.
Then you took two boxes and made a bat cycle with a narwhal sidecar.
Then you headed outside with your new fishing pole for some batgirl fishing lessons, after which you had stick fights with everything from your Daddy to the Evil Holly Tree.
Then we took a stroll down the street to check out a neighborhood church’s nativity scene. I giggled while taking pictures of Batgirl riding a camel to Bethlehem, and then taking her narwhal to see the baby in the manger.
The day was full of moments like these. Wonderful moments. But our adventures for the month weren’t nearly over, because one of your gifts was a trip to Disney World. And that, my love, I’ll tell you all about in Letter (Book) to Camille: 66 Months, Part 2!
For now, sweet dreams to the best superhero of a daughter I could ever hope to have. I love you so very much.
It has been 10 months since my friend (now running partner) planted the idea of a half-marathon in my head. The preposterous, laughable idea.
Her primary goal was for us to run a marathon relay at Disney (split evenly into 2 half-marathons), and now we’re just three days away from our attempt.
I don’t feel nearly as focused on this race as I did the Rock n Roll half, and that’s probably because I’ve had so many other distractions with the holidays and such. And also, I can now say I’ve done this distance before, so it’s not as daunting. But it’s still a long way to run and in unfamiliar territory, so those pre-race jitters are sure to begin sneaking in shortly. I’ll just have to turn them into energy.
Lee and I are so looking forward to taking Camille with us this time. We’ve signed her up for a kids race Friday morning, and part of our Christmas gift to her was some running clothes to wear on race day. Last week we did some training at Daffin Park and she definitely looked the part!
Ok – one last run and then it’s time to pack! (I will not forget my running shoes… I will not forget my running shoes…)
In today’s political climate I hesitate to use Tea Party as a title for my post, but thankfully today’s treat had nothing to do with the Iowa Caucuses and everything to do with getting all dolled up and drinking tea out of fancy china.
Our Christmas break is coming to an end and Camille is back in school tomorrow, much to her chagrin. But we definitely made the most of our final vacation day of the season.
Camille put on her fanciest dress (navy tulle adorned with silver glitter) and we met up with girlfriends at the Savannah Tea Room.
There were candles and flowers at the table, beautiful tea cups at every seat, and three excited girls trying not to talk too loudly while discussing who had put on lipstick and how they could get their hands on some more.
The tea we ordered for them was already sweetened, but they couldn’t resist the rock sugar at the table and added copious amounts to each cup.
Camille enjoyed her lunch, but the biggest hit was the edible flower. It looked like an orchid to me, but the waiter said they were edible so she ate two of them. She won’t eat a french fry, but an orchid? Give her seconds, please!
We said good-bye to our lunch dates and then I made good on a promise to take Camille ice skating in Savannah. I left my phone (aka camera) in the car because I didn’t want to risk dropping it on the ice, but I do wish I’d been able to get some video of her skating today. In stark contrast to our last skating adventure, she spent very little time splayed out on the ice and most of the time really skating. We held hands as she zipped around the rink, and every now and then she’d say, “I’m going to skate by myself! Don’t hold my hand!” And I was simultaneously proud, a little sad and terrified that she’d hit her head on the ice without me there to catch her. But we all survived, and I’m excited to take her skating again next year.
A pretty great day!
2011 was great. Really great. And I think it was fitting to cap off the year enjoying this great place where we live and the great friends who share it with us.
New Years Eve arrived with brilliant blue skies and warm weather, so we met up with the Gaddys to explore the McQueen’s Island Trail. We had a chance to meet their sweet new pooch, Pepper, and let the kids and the dog wear themselves out on the trail while we enjoyed the setting sun and the breeze off the water.
And who knew palm fronds could be so fun?
Then we took the party to one of our favorite restaurants, The Crab Shack, where we enjoyed low country boil around the fire pits.
And we had these guys for company at the restaurant’s dock. Oh Tybee, you are so weird.
And wonderful.
Here’s to 2011! And welcome 2012!
Happy 65 months big girl! As I type this, you are snuggled up on the couch with cousins Stella and Jane at Nana and Granddaddy’s house, watching The Polar Express – a great holiday movie with great buddies at the end of what has been a great month full of cousins.
We kicked things off at Thanksgiving when Jones, Eli and the fam came to Boo’s house. You and Jones were inseparable, enjoying walks to the playground, wheelbarrow rides and lots of monkeying around in trees.
One afternoon, we loaded up all you kids to go ride a tractor with family friends Tim and Pam. Not far outside of town, we turned down a dirt road flanked on either side by cotton fields, and I immediately felt like I was seeing an old friend. The bolls were bursting with the soft white cotton and dust from the red clay road swirled in the late afternoon sunlight. I was not expecting the nostalgia, or the pangs of grief I felt for my Grandmother and Poppo. Or the surge of thankfulness as I remembered the great times we spent on their farm. The dirt roads. The wide open spaces. The freedom to play. I was suddenly so happy to be on a farm with you, to give you just a taste of that life.
The tractor was a big hit, and you sat at the wheel with Tim’s careful guidance and drove around the farm. You had foot races with Jones, and then convinced Boo to race too.
You explored the cotton fields, picking bits of soft tuft to poke in your pocket, but only after asking each stalk, “Could you spare a little?” (I don’t know where you come up with these things!). My heart felt very full.
Then it was back on the road to spend the rest of our week-long Thanksgiving break in Tennessee. For some time you’ve been asking us to take you ice skating, and there is a rink not too far from Nana and Granddaddy’s house. Your only other experience with ice skates had been “skating” on a hard plastic, synthetic ice sheet in the middle of Broughton Street as part of Savannah’s Holly Days festival. That had worked well for me, because I could keep on my tennis shoes and basically pull you around the plastic on your skates.
But this time, the ice was real so that meant I had to lace up too. I’ve only skated on ice one other time, and what I remember most was falling. A lot. So I was a little nervous about being responsible for not only staying on my own feet, but helping you stay on yours as well.
You were ecstatic as we put on our skates and you eagerly approached the wall surrounding the ice to have a good look around. The zamboni was out smoothing the ice so we had to be patient.
As you surveyed the area, with wide eyes and a huge smile, you announced, “Mama, this is a dream come true!”
And I tried to stop and absorb the moment, knowing there would come a day when it would take more than a $9 skate rental and an hour of my time to make your dreams come true. I reveled in how happy you are at this age. How happy I am to be your mama.
Once on the ice, I think you were surprised how hard it was to stay vertical. There was a lot of this.
And a bit of this.
But some of this too.
In all, no one was injured and you seemed to have a good time. You’re already asking when we can go skating again.
Once back home, the holiday season celebrations ramped up with school parties, parties with friends, parties at church, and – one of our favorites – the neighborhood Christmas party. Santa arr
ives in one of our neighborhood parks, and it’s wonderful to have the great one-on-one time with St. Nick without enduring the lines at the mall.
After sharing your wish list with Santa, we boarded a trolley for a ride around the neighborhood and a Christmas Carol Sing-Along. You and Lola, without any advance planning, both showed up sporting Rudolph accessories and had a grand time together.
Your school Christmas break began Friday, and we were back on the road to Tennessee where Stella and Jane were waiting after traveling all the way from Oklahoma. I couldn’t believe how well you and Stella played and how much you enjoyed each others’ company. Three days and zero fights. And lots of fun.
Today our whirlwind tour will continue with a much-anticipated visit with Mr. Glen at his mountain home in Big Canoe. The mutual adoration between you and Mr. Glen is always a joy to witness, and I know we’ll have fun playing on the hiking trails and looking for wildlife in the beautiful setting.
We seem to pack an awful lot into our days, don’t we? But we sure do have fun.
I love you so much sweet bear.
The Talmadge Bridge is a Savannah icon, and when we travel, I love returning via Hwy 17 so we can go over the
bridge. We’re welcomed home with gorgeous views of Riverstreet, giving
way to the steeples of churches in downtown Savannah, giving way to the
lush, green tops of the live oak trees in nearby neighborhoods.
I always wish I could stop the car at the top and enjoy the view, but signs are posted everywhere forbidding it.
But last weekend, I finally had a chance to soak it all in, even though I had to work hard for that vista.
Every year Savannah hosts a Bridge Run. It’s a 5K, 10K or 15K race that takes you across the Talmadge Bridge (once, twice or thrice!). For a city with no hills, it’s a real challenge, but the view from the top is a real treat.
I signed up for the 10K and told myself that pace did not matter. I just wanted to make it to the top of the bridge and have a good look around.
The grade was steep and if I’d been serious about it, the race would’ve been difficult. But I walked when I wanted to, ran when I wanted to, and stopped at the top. I took my phone out of my arm band several times to try to get some good pictures. Here’s one on the way up.
I never got a great pic from the top – the city was far enough away to look hazy from my phone camera.
But in person, it was stunning. Oh, and I have this dorky pic from the race photographers. Me and Mr. White Hair behind me – we are just so happy to finally be heading downhill after our second trip up the bridge! And yes, I’m only slightly faster than him. Don’t judge.
