I am taking the kids down to Charleston, SC for a couple of days to visit my BFFs. Getting out of Dodge and changing up the venue will be refreshing. I don't know what it is but meltdowns and obstinance always seem less striking in a different city. And Heath is always game for an adventure, so maybe the kinks that have cropped up over the last 36 hours will even out. If not, I'm glad we are visiting people who really love me and my kids.
For a while there I thought I was leaving the hottest place on earth, just to go visit the other hottest place on earth, but it seems the 48 hours or so that we will be there, we are in for a treat of 90 degree weather. I better pack a hoodie. Might as well, I've packed everything else. The shear volume it takes to get us anywhere is positively stunning. Of course, the jogging stroller is coming with us, so that takes up nearly every square inch of the back of the wagon. But there's no way I'm leaving without that thing. The Continental Divide Trail run is two weeks away. I got training to do.
And in an effort to do so, we found ourselves out on the McMullen greenway again for a 4-miler this morning. I could tell right off the bat that I did some running last night. I was also happy to report to Heath that my trail pal and I saw a King Snake, two toads, attacked by a batch of angry cicada killers, separated from my (speedy) trail pal, in some suddenly seriously darkened woods, and even had a flesh wound on my arm from tripping (I grabbed a tree to break my fall). Stella was most intrigued by my arm boo-boo. Repeatedly she asked, Wa' happa-ned? And was equally thrilled with my tale every time I told it.
The Crazies won't win any awards, but it gave me that nice edgy, skurred feeling. Youth in Revolt tonight.
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