Keeping my cards close

My obsession with postcards -- certain clever, eclectic and funky postcards featuring local businesses -- started with a wine-related card, likely the one created for Silvertree Deli and Gourmet Market in Suttons Bay, Mi. I figure as much after meeting Will Harper, founder of PoCards, who tells me this was the business' very first one. He remembers snapping the photo, back in 2006, and while I have since accumulated dozens more of his postcard creations, I know I've had this particular one for a long, long time.

In fact, I tell Will, I took the Silvertree one, which is posted below, and grouped it with three other cards in a cool, black frame that hangs from my dining room wall. The others also follow a wine theme, representing another area specialty market and two local vineyards. One of them is of the two Labs, above, which is for Gill's Pier Vineyard & Winery in Northport. Here's the one from Silvertree:
I'm not surprised to hear that I'm far from alone in collecting PoCards, which number well over 100 in the Traverse City area. In wooden box displays in or just outside 65 northern Michigan businesses, PoCards are eye-catching thanks to their unique designs and slogans. And, they're free - to both the passerby and the merchant willing to host the display of six postcards.


"PoCards are dual-functioning," Will explains over coffee at Cuppa Joe in Building 50 -- which happens to have its own PoCard. "They're postcards, and they're also billboards. The image piques your interest, you pick it up and turn it over."


Which is where you'll learn more about the small business or non-profit. Usually the front is simply a photo, drawing or painting with or without words that won't necessarily call out the business name. The image alone just draws you in. Here's the one for Cuppa Joe:

You might actually send the postcard to someone -- apparently about 20 percent of them get tossed into the mail -- or like me, you might hold onto them. Along with framing a few, I've got a few posted alongside my computer. I also have a drawer full of them, waiting for inspiration to strike. You never know when one will suddenly take on new meaning, a fact I realize after noticing one of my PoCard finds from long ago is for Shady Lane Cellars, a Leelanau County winery for which a now-good friend's husband is the winemaker.

"They just don't get thrown away like other ads and coupons," Will says, telling me the story of seeing one of his cards at his dentist's office. "You see them in the weirdest places. You see them everywhere. People keep them around."

Businesses opting to advertise the PoCard way sometimes have their own ideas for their postcard. But just as often, Will is coming up with catchy one-liners, like "Flour Power" for Leland bakery Stonehouse Bread and "Super Posh" for Posh Pet Boutique. He's also behind "Knot Like Anywhere Else!" for the restaurant Knot in Omena. He's especially proud of the card he created for Old Town Optical in Traverse City. He came up with "Miles of Styles" for the business' thousands of frames as well as the front cover design featuring Lake Michigan shoreline and the words, "Northern Michigan is beautiful...make sure you're seeing it clearly!"

He's also pleased to have four PoCards featuring paintings by well-known local artist Charles Murphy.

Four years in, however, Will shares that he'd like to pass the baton to another creative and eager business person -- someone committed to sharing the clever cards throughout the region. It's an advertising approach that works, evident in the other markets in which PoCards has made a presence; a friend of Will's originally started the company in Bend, Ore., where Will was living at the time, and it's also going strong in Hood River, Ore., East Portland, Ore. and Aspen, Co.

No doubt Will's next adventure, whenever that may happen, will prove successful. Along with launching and operating PoCards here, I learn the former windsurf shop owner and writer helped start the popular M22 business and continues to serve as wholesale/sales manager for the company.

But I can't help hoping he'll stick around for awhile and keep coming up with clever ideas for his PoCards. Shopping downtown, hanging out at Building 50 or visiting the Warehouse District, I'm always on the look-out for a card to add to my collection.

Learn more about PoCards at the company's web site. I'll end with another of my favorites, which also happens to be for Leaping Lizard, one of my top stores to visit when downtown.

Taking to the Trails

Running never fails to clear my head, and lately I’ve been finding that in-the-moment serenity on the Vasa, a rugged and scenic trail not far from my home.

Depending upon how adventurous – and in shape – you are, the pathway offers a series of loops that take you through flat to hilly terrain that’s part of Pere Marquette State Forest here in northern Michigan. While it’s a great place to explore year-round, I especially love running there in fall, when the temps are cooler, the trees are ablaze in vibrant colors and the winding trails’ sheer expanse promises quiet moments. Sometimes I pass a fellow runner or someone walking his dog, or I’ll meet up with a couple of mountain bikers. But mostly it’s just me and the woods. And sometimes a deer or two.

This weekend, though, I’ll welcome the chance to enjoy the VASA Pathway with about 200 other runners. That’s how many people are expected to participate in this Saturday morning’s VASA Trail Run. I’ll be running the 5K loop, but there’s also a 10K and, for the especially courageous, a 25K.

“The middle distance seems to be the biggest event,” Daniel Siderman, event co-manager, tells me when I talk with him this week. “The 25K -- you’d better be in shape.” (I believe it. My one and only 25K so far was on flat, urban concrete. Can only imagine how tough that distance would be on hilly trails. Maybe someday…)

Still, this is a “very laid-back” race, Siderman says. "Trail events tend to be a lot more laid back than road races. It’s a slower pace. It’s a beautiful place to run.”



Running Fit in Traverse City, for which Siderman is a manager, is behind the VASA Trail Race. While it’d been around for a number of years, Running Fit infused new energy when it took over three years ago. The new hosts added the 5K as well as began offering T-shirts, awards and aid stations.

“We were looking to add more numbers,” he says. “It’s an event we love to do.”

Their efforts worked – more people are signing on each year, and the race so far isn’t a “capped” one. October is known as a big marathon month across the country, so the VASA race tends to attract those runners opting not to run 26.2 during this time, Siderman says.

Having deciding to take a break from training this summer and fall, I’m excited to try this 5K. I still have hopes of doing a marathon in the near future, but for now, shorter distances – and peaceful moments on the trail before winter hits – are where I’m at.

Race cost is $29, with proceeds going toward the upkeep of the VASA Pathway. Along with runners, hikers and mountain bikers, the trails are used by cross country skiers -- the VASA is home of the North American Vasa cross country ski race. The annual Iceman Cometh mountain bike race also uses a portion of the trail.

Check out maps of the 5K, 10K and 25K loops and register for the race. By the way, you can register day of, too.

Fabulous Finds

So I've got a wedding to go to this weekend. Which means I've been pondering the outfit. Which means a trip to my favorite second-hand boutique had to happen.

The good news: I'm super excited to attend these nupitals two hours from home. I haven't seen my about-to-be-wed cousin Matt in a long time, and come to think of it, I haven't been to a wedding in some time. I'm thrilled to be part of this celebration, and also can't wait to catch up with family I haven't seen in awhile. Good news, part 2: it's always fun to have a reason to dress up.

The not-so-good news: I'm missing the huge annual flea market sale at said favorite second-hand boutique.

Which made me realize now would be a most perfect time to share my love for Zany, a most fantastically awesome consignment boutique. Pretty much my favorite place to shop. Though I can't make the big sale, I hope some of you can. It starts at 8 a.m. Saturday, Sept. 12. Zany is housed in a quaint two-story Victorian house at 318 Vine St., behind Sleder's restaurant.

I've mentioned Zany before here, or at the very least have talked about the great finds I've stumbled upon at this boutique. I discovered it maybe four years ago now, when I was constantly on the hunt for small businesses to profile for a northern Michigan newspaper. Since then, I've been a regular -- as are most of Zany's customers. It's easy to get hooked to the fun, stylish and funky finds there. Owner Kate Kohler and her staff of friendly, fashion-forward women also keep you coming back for more.

The sluggish economy leads even more of us to second-hand shops, places like Goodwill and other stores that have gently-used clothing, accessories, home decor, even furniture. Seems I come across articles about the popularity of re-sale shopping more and more lately. Indeed, it is an increasingly booming business -- resale is a multi-billion dollar a year industry, according to the National Association of Resale and Thrift Shops. Goodwill Industries alone generated $1.9 billion in retail sales from their 2,246 Not For Profit thrift stores across America in 2007.

Zany stands out among other second-hand shops for a few reasons:

* Quality is important. You're not going to find items that are less than truly "gently-used." Name brands also are big. Kate and her staff are picky, which is a very good thing.

* Shopping is easy. With clothing organized by size and color, you can find what you're looking for (or didn't even know you were looking for) quickly. I also love how Kate and her staff take the time to create eye-grabbing displays -- pairing jewelry, scarves and handbags with clothing in daring and interesting ways.

* It's an experience. Friends and I have begun creating girls' nights around trips to Zany. We'll meet there around 4:30 p.m., shop until closing at 6 p.m. and head to a nearby restaurant for dinner and drinks. It's just too fun having someone there to show off your finds and get their opinion about that skirt or pair of jeans that caught your eye.

Among my most treasured finds: a pair of 7 for all Mankind jeans, an Italian-made pink wool coat that fits me to a T, a BCBG wrap dress, a chocolate-and-cream-colored halter dress I'll wear to this weekend's wedding.

Check out the sale this Saturday if you can -- and be sure to let me know what you find. I asked Kate what you can expect to find and here's what she had to say:

"The flea Market is a huge sale of all-season items, all kinds of items -- shoes, handbags, clothes, home decor, under a big tent outside. It's the biggest sale of the year that we do, super fun and fabulous deals. The sale ends at 6 o'clock or until the last person leaves!"

Still want to know more? Call Zany Boutique at (231) 933-4199.

Just Right at Left Foot

About a month ago, my friend Cari inspired me with how she celebrated her 40th birthday. Not interested in a formal gathering, but still wanting to commemorate her entry into a new decade (without the stress of hosting said party at her place), Cari invited friends to gather at Traverse City's urban winery Left Foot Charley. I hadn't yet been there, only had heard about its distinct vibe and delicious wines, and was eager to check out the brick building I'd been running by for years given its location near some of my favorite trails.

The first thing we noticed walking toward Left Foot Charley were the pairs of tango dancers in the street out front. And then there were the bocce ball players on the lawn nearby. Both instant reminders of why I am so enamored with The Village at Grand Traverse Commons, formerly the Northern Michigan Asylum and one of the most extensive historical restoration projects in America.

It's the 480-acre development's meshing of historic charm with cosmopolitan vitality that attracts entrepreneurs like Left Foot's Bryan and Jen Ulbrich. The couple opened their 1,200 wine-making facility in the old laundry building two years ago, providing the state's first taste of wine tapped right from 1,000-liter tanks. Along with a spacious tasting room with views of the cellar and tank rooms, an outdoor patio beckons with live music many nights. The outdoor area even has a small sandbox on one end should you be walking through the grounds with kids and decide to stop for a glass.

Cari's party was a smashing success, so much so that I left wanting to know more (not to mention get back again soon for another taste of their yummy Murmur and pinot grigio). A few weeks later, sharing party details with my friend Juliette, I learned that if I wanted a well-rounded story, I needed to not only visit Left Foot, but also take a trip to Crane Hill Vineyard in Leelanau County. Of course I insisted Juliette join me in investigating the biodynamic vineyard supplying grapes for some of Left Foot's white wines.

We head toward Crane Hill late in the afternoon, both sun-drenched after a day at the beach with our kids. It is one of those perfect summer days, made even more perfect because it's a Friday. It's sunny and breezy, and I can't imagine what could be better at this moment than walking barefoot through a vineyard.

We meet up with Bryan, vineyard owner Robert Brengman and Chantal Lefebvre, who is owner of Moon Dog Vineyards in Antrim County and also is a wine-making apprentice at Left Foot Charley.

"This is probably what I am most excited about," Bryan tells me as we stop atop the hill overlooking rows of lucious-looking grape vines. He's referring to a block of vines growing the gewurztraminer grape, one of seven varieties grown on the 45-acre vineyard owned by Robert and his wife Joni.

"It's kind of a cult grape," Bryan says of the gewurztraminer, which is ripening now and eventually will be made into wine offered at Left Foot Charley. "It's not that it's unknown. We compare it to Frank Zappa -- people either love it or hate it."

Crane Hill Vineyards, formerly a cherry orchard, had its first harvest in 2007. Having discovered they shared "mutual philiosphies" about growing grapes, Robert and Bryan have been collaborating on creating wine for Left Foot Charley ever since. Both are committed to growing grapes the most natural way possible, or what is called the biodynamic way. It's about working with cycles of nature to grow grapes and make wine, and using plants and animals to take the place of chemicals and fertilizers.

"I'm trying to find people who have a smart sense of growing," says Bryan, who works with more than a dozen regional vineyards. As he puts it, he buys grapes "from guys who love wine, relish in a challenge, and own parcels of land well suited to raising vines."

I love what Bryan has to say about our interest in "place" when it comes to what we eat and drink.

"Something new is unfolding in the American consciousness," he says. "We are beginning to appreciate 'place.' Our tables, our songs, our whisky, our wine needs to be from somewhere or it all becomes just another white page. Left Foot Charley is joining this movement and throwing color around like a frenzied painter. We encourage you to grab a smock, a paint brush, and taste our local colors."

We cap off the vineyard tour with a glass of Robert's peach wine before setting off to end the evening at Left Foot. At the wine bar we try a 2008 Riesling from Seventh Hill Farm on Old Mission Peninsula and pair it with a cheese plate and an appetizer called The Hungry German -- three soft prezels with locally made mustards and bbq sauce for $4. Another great thing about Left Foot: you'll likely run into someone you know, and tonight is no exception. We pull up chairs for friends and listen to the live music.

Just arriving at Left Foot....Joni, Adam (the friendliest of bartenders), Juliette and me.

This December I'll turn 35, a definite milestone. I can't help thinking about Cari's party, and how I'd like to do something special to mark this point in my life. Since a patio party at Left Foot Charley won't work so well for my birthday, given, you know, Michigan's cold and snow, I'm considering my options...like maybe celebrating a tad earlier -- it's my birthday, I can do this, right? I'm picturing an early fall, indian summer kind of gathering....

Lots of exciting things happening at Grand Traverse Commons, including a wine and food festival and a beer and music festival, both to be held yet this month. Details here. A dairy festival (locally-made cheese!) also is in the works for next summer.

Left Foot Charley Winery & Tasting Room is at 806 Red Drive in Traverse City, MI. Call (231)995-0500 for more information. Learn more about the wine bar's latest news (and where the name Left Foot Charley came from) by going to their web site.

An Inn to Remember

Chef Paul, helping preserve the Inn.

Memory of Bowers Harbor Inn: Decked out in a decidedly too-fancy, but oh-so-90s black-and-white frilly prom dress, my hair in a french twist and adorned with white rose buds, I eagerly anticipated a fancy dinner with my then-boyfriend and several other couples. It was spring 1992, and yes, I ordered the ever-popular Inn entree Fish in a Bag. Photos of me and the boyfriend, my once coiffed 'do disinigrating in the wind, followed dinner across the road along West Grand Traverse Bay. (If I could find a photo, I'd post it here, embarrassing attire and all. I swear.)

Flash forward 17 years (17?): The Fish in a Bag remains on the Inn's menu, but much has changed -- most notably my taste in clothing, thank God. But that's for another post. On this day, I'm sitting on the front patio of the Inn, sipping a glass of "unwooded" chardonnay on a most beautiful late summer afternoon on Old Mission Peninsula. Earlier the gray skies promised dampness, a warm dreariness, but the sun somehow won them over, pushing through and offering a glint of warmth for a true golden hour. It's heavenly, I think as I sit gazing out across the sparkling waters to a distant Power Island.

This is not the Bowers Harbor Inn of years ago. And yet, it is. Sort of.

You may know the history, or at least some of the history, of this restaurant. It's one of those places that's hard to forget once you visit. Built in 1882 as a summer retreat for Chicago lumber baron J.W. Stickney and his wife Genevive, the Inn sits along Traverse City's West Grand Traverse Bay, several miles out Old Mission Peninsula. Maybe you've heard the ghost story of Genevive, how she's haunted the place because her husband took a mistress and left his fortune to her. Since 1974 it's served as a restaurant, a scenic spot known for its fine dining. It's why high school students -- like my early 1990s self -- make prom night reservations at the Inn each spring.

In more recent years, I've made only a couple of trips to the Inn, to celebrate our December birthdays one year and on another occasion to partake in a wine dinner we hoped would rid us of the middle-of-winter blues. (Mostly, quite honestly, it just broke our budget. But the food and wine? Fantastically amazing.)

Chef Paul Olson, who took the reigns of the Inn's kitchen a little over a year ago, acknowledges the reputation the Inn long has held. In other words, this married dad to two school-age kids gets that the restaurant has a hoity-toity past -- and he's doing what he can to change it for the better.

Far from compromising the historic integrity of the restaurant - the goal of current owners Jon Carlson and Greg Lobdell, after all, is to preserve the Inn -- Olson simply wants people to feel good about coming on a regular basis and not just saving a visit for special occasions.

Consider the deck on which I sat. "It's the most under-utilized place in the world," Olson says, motioning with his arm the gorgeous lake view from where he stands on the 50-seat deck. "It's phenomenal."

Shouldn't more people take advatage of this beautiful spot, Olson asks me. I nod in agreement, soaking up the the view all the while.

Inside, the Inn looks much the same but has undergone several upgrades, including freshly-renovated restrooms both upstairs and down and re-done banquet/reception rooms above the main dining area. A refurbished side patio is the perfect spot for cocktail hour. Then there's the simple touch of adding parchment paper to tabletops to create a more casual dining experience, Olson says. (It's something great NYC restaurants do, says Olson, who graduated from The Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park, New York and refined his talents in Manhattan and Connecticut).

"Also, my price point is lower. Entrees are between $20 and $26 -- there's only one thing over $30, the grilled filet mignon," he says. "We're trying to give a good value."

Just as exciting is the Inn's commitment to buying local whenever possible. Just one example: vegetables come from farmer and winemaker John Kroupa, who happens to live just down the road. Cherry Capital Foods also supplies much of what Olson uses in his cooking.

Olson's Summer 2009 menu includes scrumptious items like cured wild salmon, Werp Farms rocket arugula salad, pan roasted walleye and grilled lamb chops. Olson kindly prepared samplings of these, and they were absolutely delicious.

Then there's the wine.

I'm a red wine girl at heart, but whites are starting to make an impression on me, thanks in part to Olson's great suggestions. The "unwooded" chardonnay (it's aged in stainless steel rather than an oak barrel, he tells me) is from Bowers Harbor Vineyards and is pleasantly crisp and refreshing. I also have a taste of BHV's pinot grigio that's very good because it's not too sweet. A final sampling -- a red, cabernet franc from Peninsula Cellars -- is a perfect pairing with the grilled lamb chops.

If you're looking for great beer, Olson promises you'll find it at Jolly Pumpkin, the newly-renovated, much more casual restaurant next door that longtime fans of the property will remember as The Bowery. Starting this month the brewery will offer beer made on site, in the 8,000+ square-foot building that also houses a great space for wedding receptions and other events. Not to be missed is the outdoor fireplace and benches on the flagstone patio between Jolly Pumpkin and what's called The Peninsula Room.

As you may imagine, leaving this picturesque spot wasn't easy. But I plan to head back that way soon. No prom dress involved. Hope you get a chance to check it out soon, too.

The Inn is at 13512 Peninsula Drive. Call (231) 223-4222 for more information or go here.

Home is where my water is

I've been thinking a lot lately about that place, that mind-set really, that makes you feel at ease. That allows you to breathe a little easier and gives you a sense that all is right with the world.

"You know when you close your eyes and think about where you want to be? That's the place I'm talking about."

These are the words that stayed with me following a conversation I had not too long ago with Rod Call, a person clearly passionate about striving for the best life possible and working hard to achieve it. For him, it's building a company -- Snoloha -- that's as much about comfortable, laid-back clothing and accessories as it is about finding that place, that personal truth, and living it out each day -- no matter where you are.

Curious name for a business, right? When you hear the story, it makes perfect sense. Awhile back, upon returning to frigid Michigan from the U.S. Virgin Islands, Rod found himself amazed at the stark difference between the two climates. And how within just a short time he'd gone from one extreme to another.

Just so happened he was driving by the 45th Parallel -- the sign that lets you know you're "Halfway Between the Equator and the North Pole" -- as he reminisced about his travels, and that's when this phrase came to mind: "Somewhere between the islands and the arctic."

I love that he reached across his seat and scribbled the words on a Rolling Stone magazine.

"Snoloha is a way of life," Rod tells me. "Snoloha is a reflection of how we live, work, play, vacation and simply enjoy life somewhere between the islands and the arctic. It is a lifestyle people live everyday, a couple times a year, once in a lifetime, or in their minds all the time. It's carrying a vacation mentality through everyday life, celebrating and enjoying all the seasons that get thrown at us."

Sure, it's not easy to maintain this mind-set. I definitely struggle. It takes effort to keep it all in perspective and go a step further even and actually embrace where you're at at any given moment. It helps to surround yourself with loving family and great friends, to find work that's satisfying, to get out of your own way and look beyond yourself.

I don't mind winter in northern Michigan (well, except when it lasts until May...), but I also can't get enough of summer here. Maybe it's because we have definite seasons here that I savor summer so much when it finally arrives. The older I get, the more appreciative I am of the lazy days spent at the beach, the gorgeously cool runs through the trails and the nights of grilled cheeseburgers and watching the kids play in the yard well into the summer evening.

When I ask myself when it is I feel most at home, an image of the Lake Michigan shoreline immediately comes to mind. It's my place, my spot "somewhere between the islands and the tropic." How about you?

Go to Rod's web site to learn many more cool things about Snoloha. He's got a great blog, an online store (check out how he donates shirts, a "pay it forward" kind of thing), and he's just an all-around good guy.

**Since some people have asked about it, here's the scoop on the photo with this post: It was one of those amazing summer afternoons in northern Michigan. We were at Young State Park, a beautiful state park along Lake Charlevoix, not far from Boyne City. Lake Charlevoix flows into Lake Michigan.**

Green Chic

Super cute and comfy. Not the words to describe many of my shoes. I have a thing for shoes, and am willing to endure slight discomfort when necessary in the name of fashion. I’m sure I will eat my words at some point, having come down with a foot ailment that can be traced to my love of heels. But for now, it’s working for me. It’s not like I’m completely uncomfortable; I’m not on my feet all day, I do have my share of fun flats and flip-flops and doesn’t the amount of time I’m in my running shoes even things out? It’s all relative. Some girls just don’t like heels, period. But give me an opportunity to don a pump, wedge, kitten heel or stiletto, and I’m one happy woman.

So you can imagine how fun it is to have found these stylish sandals, which are both super cute and comfy. Cooler yet is the story behind them.

As Jennifer Lett and Karen Boyle will tell you, theirs is a story not unlike so many others who are navigating choppy waters thanks to our enduring economic storm. The Traverse City, Mi. friends-turned-business partners are behind the cleverly-named Blue Jeans Gone Green, a business born out of necessity – and a desire to do something good and right.

With Jen laid off from her recruiter position earlier this year, Karen’s once-thriving daycare business took another hit. (I know how hard this was for Jen to tell Karen her kids would no longer be coming to her home while she worked; we had to break similar news to Karen last year when my husband was laid off from his job). Taking stock of their situations, and realizing they shared a vision for how they’d like to move forward with their lives, the pair began brainstorming business ideas. Both women desired flexible work schedules for themselves and their families. They also wanted to create an environmentally-friendly product.

Using reclaimed denim -- from Goodwill, family and friends, wherever great jean material could be found -- they started creating a variety of products. Ultimately, it was sandals, originally inspired by Jen’s sister-in law, that garnered the most attention. Turning out a "green" product was important -- as was ensuring a comfortable shoe. The idea: that these sandals would be as classically comfortable as the jeans that embellish them.

The icing on the cake came when they found a shoe sole that not only was comfy, but was made of recycled rubber. "We like to say we're helping our environment one pair at a time," Karen says.

I got my first pair last week and I wore them all weekend, walking downtown, hanging out at a family reunion and later relaxing at a neighborhood bonfire. The squishy soles of these wedges -- knowing my tastes well, Jen suggested for me The Erin Wedge, pictured above -- made my feet very happy no matter where I went. Equally as great is how these "flip-flops" stand out among all the others out there.

You can order Blue Jeans Gone Green sandals online here. Want to check 'em out in real life? If you're in the Traverse City area this week, stop by the first annual Mt. Holiday Ladies' Night Open House from 6 to 8 p.m. Wednesday, June 17th. Jen and Karen will be on hand at the at the community ski resort's shopping, shoes and cocktails event. They'll have a selection of their shoes on hand, and if you bring in your unwanted blue jeans, they'll make a charitable contribution to Mt. Holiday. Want to learn more? Contact Jen & Karen at sales@bluejeansgonegreen.com

Speed bumps on the road of life

When I decided to help coach a running program at my kids' elementary school this spring, I didn't exactly know what to expect. I'd never coached a team before and I've come late to running, having grown to love it only in the past three years. It wasn't like I was an expert on the ins and outs of exercise drills or the various muscle groups used during stretches and runs. Important coach stuff to know, I would think.

But here's what I do know: I have a passion for running, for working toward a sound mind and body, and most importantly for this particular program, a desire to help young girls feel strong -- both mentally and physically. As the mom of an almost-tween, and a woman who has dealt with (still deals with!) feeling "good enough," I can't shake this longing for doing my part to combat all the junk out there that suggests girls should look and act a certain part to get ahead in life. It starts early, from my own experience and from what I see just watching my own beautifully unique nearly 9-year-old navigate her own world of relationships and the images she's exposed to through various forms of media.

Four weeks into coaching Girls on the Run, a national program with chapters across the country, I'm so happy I've taken on this role. Incredibly, we have nearly 70 third-, fourth- and fifth-grade girls on our team -- we're the largest chapter in our region. Of course I am not doing this alone, and I am so grateful for how seven other parents -- including one dad! -- have stepped up and entered into the lives of these amazing young girls. It's not been easy at times, thanks not only to the sheer size of the group and the twice-weekly time commitment, but because...well, 8, 9 and 10 are tough ages to be.

Ok, so each age has its challenges. (I have a two younger boys, ages 6 and 3, and believe me, there's plenty of issues with each of these ages as well, and I can just imagine what's in store for me during the teen years...) But there's something about the upper elementary grades, for a girl, that make life I believe especially trying. I can remember these days clearly: who's your best friend, who's not can change nearly weekly...clothing takes on new significance...boys as friends vs. boys as people with cooties to avoid at all costs becomes a concern...and, then, the whole body thing, with changes happening for some of us quickly (or slower) than others.

During the six practices we've had so far, we've dealt with the to-be-expected physical trials like skinned knees, cuts and bruises, even a minor asthma attack. Most recently we've faced the inevitable, heart-breaking tears over friend misunderstandings, hurtful gossiping and general relationship ickiness and drama. It's gonna happen, and while frustrating at times, I almost welcome it because the curriculum we follow talks about all this stuff, and then some. I feel almost honored to be there, helping these girls make sense of what's to them a very confusing time in their life. And in between all this, of course, we run. We stretch and play games and we run. We fall, figuratuvely and literally, but we help each other get back up, move forward and ultimately find out that we really can do more than we thought we could.

I love that now, walking through the school's hallways, girls yell out to me, "Hi, Mrs. Durocher!" and stop to share tidbits from their life, like how they talked things through with a friend or have been running on the weekends with their families.

I've also realized how much I'm learning from these girls. As I write this today I'm facing a decision I don't want to make, and I can't help thinking about how I'd be smart to heed some of the advice dispensed through the Girls on the Run program. Make healthy choices. Respect yourself. Take good care of your body.

As I've shared on this blog, I signed up for my first marathon this spring. After three half-marathons, a handful of 10- and 5-Ks, I felt ready to take the plunge and train for 26.2 miles. Having heard tales of runners pushing themselves too hard during training and injuring themselves to the point of having to pull out of the race, I was determined from the start to train smart. I imagined myself walking that fine line of challenging myself while listening to my body. I printed out a training guide based on my best half-marathon time of 1:48, but even that outline seemed overly aggressive at times. So I modified it some to be sure I kept to my goal of making it to race day unhurt.

Then it happened. I got overly-confident.

One cool, sunny Friday I laced up and headed out for a 10-miler. It went so well and I felt so good afterward, I somehow thought I would have no problem doing 12 miles just two days later, and then another 12 several days after that. Up to that point I'd been doing 6 miles at the most on a fairly consistent basis and so this jump up didn't seem too crazy at all. And maybe it wouldn't have been if I hadn't also dialed up my speed and incorporated a bigger hill into the mix. All together, it apparently was just too much. My left achilles informed me of my mistake.

I haven't run for a week now, having had to cut a planned 18-miler short after experiencing intense pain 10 miles in (yes, even after initial aches following the previous 12-miler, I thought I could do this even longer run). I pushed through a few more miles that afternoon, stopping every so often to rest and hope the throbbing would just go away. But it didn't. So I walked. Fighting tears, I walked several miles home, feeling stupid, ashamed, guilty...and then angry for not going easier on myself. Why is it I am so hard on myself when I would be nothing but loving and compassionate toward a friend in the same situation?

I thought of the girls I'm coaching and the all the lessons we're learning, that even I'm obviously still learning. And while I want to run a marathon very badly, now perhaps is just not my time. The last thing I want to do is injure myself further. There will be other races. Other times to prove to myself that I can do something I never thought I could do. Take care of yourself.

It's rather astounding to me that, at age 34, taking care of myself could prove to be such a difficult task. But the more I am aware of the benefits of doing so, and the more I witness it in the young girls I'm coaching and experience it firsthand, the more I realize it really is the only way to go. I think my girls would be proud to hear me say so -- and to see me actually live it out, too.

If you'd like to learn more about Girls on the Run, please check out the non-profit's web site. Also see the founder Molly Barker's very cool blog.

Loving Laughing: A tiny story about a penguin & a polar bear

John and Karen
by trescourt

You know the kind of laughing that comes busting out when you least expect it? A giggling fit that, just when you think you’ve got it under control, spills out of you for another round? Any humor that triggers this reaction in me, I just love. Just as funny as the thing you’re laughing at is how you just can’t seem to keep yourself collected, no matter how hard you try.

I found myself laughing like this the other day when my husband and I went to see the compilation of this year’s Oscar-nominated animated shorts. I had to share the one short – John and Karen, a U.K. film directed by Matthew Walker – that got me in this silly mood, short-lived as it was since this particular short film is all of about four minutes long. It’s perfectly timed. Click on the screen above to watch.

The giggles began when Karen opened the door. Something about how small she was in comparison to John, maybe. Or their their British accented-voices. I don’t know, all of it. It just got me, and it only got better as it went on.

By the way, the rest of the shorts were, overall, pretty good. A couple definitely didn’t resonate with me, but the animation is quite impressive. My second favorite, which I couldn’t find online, but if you have the chance to check out absolutely do: LE MAISON EN PETITS CUBES, directerd by Kunio Kato. Best of all, these were showing at The State Theatre, the fantastic volunteer-run movie house I’ve written about previously here. This was our first volunteer experience at The State – I had way too much fun saying “Enjoy the show!” as I collected tickets – and we’ve now signed on to be regulars.

Long live the movie - and animated short - that makes you smile and laugh. Really laugh.

Everyone's got a story

I adore this photo of my grandparents, taken on the Au Sable River in northern Michigan in the early 1930s. My grandparents - Herbie and Jeri - were married more than 60 years and I love how this photo captures a moment very early on in their relationship.

I was inspired to track down this picture (thank you, Mom) after hearing what my friend and fellow writer Heather Shumaker is up to these days. Formerly with the Grand Traverse Regional Conservancy - she served as coastal program director for eight years - Heather decided to pursue a lifelong passion for writing and started a successful freelancing career. She's written for a range of magazines, including Parenting, Organic Gardening and Traverse. Recently, she's delved into personal life history writing.

As one of only eight personal historians in the state - the only one in northern Michigan, according to the Association of Personal Historians - Heather works with families to record a person's life story. (The 600+ member Association, by the way, is growing rapidly. "It's kind of neat how people are really starting to value family stories," Heather says.)

Through her business Life Story Trust, she conducts interviews, writes the individual's life story and provides it in a hardback book. She also provides an audio recording to preserve the person's voice.

"My emphasis, because I am a writer, is to develop a beautifully-written piece," Heather explains.

Many people would love to have their story - or their loved ones' stories - recorded for future generations. Some people even attempt such a project themselves, which can work out just fine.
But Heather believes such a task can prove overwhelming for a lot of people - in fact, she hears this time and again.

"I think it helps to have an outside person do the writing," she says. "Doing it yourself can be daunting."

Over the course of up to three face-to-face interviews, Heather takes that information and crafts a person's story. She has loads of experience doing this, for clients as well as her own family members. In fact, she first got a taste of this kind of writing during her college years at Swarthmore College, just outside Philadelphia. As a student, studying sociology and anthropology, she interviewed people to learn their life story for class assignments.

Each person's story is interesting, though a few specific experiences she's heard stand out: a woman who, as a little girl in Jamaica, threw tangerines at a watchman; a man who talked about what it was like to be the son of a lighthouse keeper; and a woman who was brought up in Nazi Germany.

Anyone interested in their family heritage would appreciate what Heather is doing. She says retirees are working with her, as are adult children who want to have their parents' life stories recorded and cherished by younger family members. Heather herself is the mom of two: Alex, 4 1/2 and Luke, 1.

Heather told me she feels like her life has come full circle, considering how what she studied in college is now serving her well in her new career. Even her years following her passion for non-profits and environmental work are, in a way, tied into the path she's now following.

"I used to preserve land, and now I preserve stories."

To learn more about Heather Shumaker's Life Story Trust, email her at heather@lifestorytrust.com or visit www.lifestorytrust.com .

I found my thrill...

Back in high school, it was a place to drive to with your date. It wasn't a make-out spot - no place to park except smack-dab in front of a home -- but more of a scenic venture uphill that, once at the top, provided an incredible view of West Grand Traverse Bay and the city lights below.

It's still a location we'll drive to now and again with the kids, especially around the holidays to see Christmas decorations, but Wayne Hill in Traverse City holds a new and different meaning nowadays: an excruciatingly steep stretch of road I'm determined to conquer in the weeks leading up to the Bayshore Marathon. Which is, scarily enough, fast-approaching. Hello, less than three months away to race day.

So, Wayne Hill. It's a gorgeous area on the west side of the city, a looped neighborhood of maybe three dozen or so homes, some of which have amazing panoramic views given the location's high elevation overlooking the Bay and city stretching eastward. I remember when a grade school friend moved from the lower-lying east side to Wayne Hill in junior high, and our group of friends all thought, "Wow, her family has arrived!"

In recent years I've run not even half-way up Wayne Hill. It was part of my running group's regular route, but we always took a sharp right onto a trail before the road turned too steep. As I train for the longest race I've ever attempted, I got the crazy idea that maybe I should Just. Keep. Going. and let this hill know I mean business. Hill work supposedly helps your endurance, right? I don't know the specifics of this; all I know is running up hills is super hard and so I figure there must be some payback for the ridiculous amount of effort that goes into running at an incline.

So the other day, feeling particularly ambitious and deliriously happy about the sunshine finally making an appearance in northern Michigan, I kept right on going up Wayne Hill.

With help from 90s music blaring on my iPod (thank you, Rob Base"It Takes Two"), I got....not quite there.

This is a big, big hill. What was I thinking?

Strong as I felt at the bottom, three-quarters of the way up, I was toast. Lungs and legs were burning, the thumping, normally keep-me-going music wasn't cutting it. I was done. So I stopped and walked, completely out of breath.

That's when I noticed a man getting out of his car in a driveway just ahead of me. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but he was clearly looking at me and his mouth was moving. I removed my iPod earphones.

"Wow, just watching you run up this hill makes me tired! I can hardly walk it. Great job! Keep it up!" Then he waved before going inside his home.

Amazing how a simple comment from a stranger can make you feel pretty awesome. And maybe a tad crazy. Who does run Wayne Hill anyway?

This is not the part where the corny music is cued and I suddenly experienced an infusion of strength to keep going, to victoriously go on to reach the top of the summit. I still kept walking, huffing and puffing each step. I did manage a weak wave and smile in the man's direction.

But the top wasn't so far off, and once there, I was reminded of the spectacular view - made even more beautiful by the sparkling ice and snow covering the water below. I stood there for a few moments, taking it in ... and catching my breath.

Next time, I think, it won't be so bad. And there's always the view.

My downtown State of mind

Unless a film is just downright bad, I'll hold off going to the bathroom when I'm at the movies. Which is no small feat when you inevitably have to go at some point during those two hours given the massive amount of diet coke you've drank even before the previews are complete. But I just like sitting there, enveloped in the darkness, engrossed in the movie, not wanting to miss a thing. Plus, I am an utter dork about returning to my seat if I do leave. I always have this mini-panic attack walking back in, like I'm not going to find whoever I came with, as if the layout of the theatre changed in the time it took for me to go and there's a hidden camera somewhere about to capture my humiliation at not knowing how to quickly and quietly get back to where I had been only moments before.

But at the State Theatre, my city's downtown movie house, it's a whole different deal. I'm all about making sure I get to the basement bathroom at least once, possibly twice, during my visit. Even last night, while watching the Sean Penn movie Milk, which definitely had my attention, I didn't just shift in my seat and cross my legs like I normally would -- I got up, walked through the lobby and headed downstairs.

If you have never heard of or been to the State, you likely have no clue why I'd necessarily leave an Oscar-nominated film to check out a theatre's bathrooms - let alone blog about it. Actually, even if you have heard about the place, you may still be wondering what's so great about the bathroom -- a bathroom in the basement nonetheless. But if you grew up in Traverse City like I did, you just might be saying, "Oh, yeah, those bathrooms are cool!"

Walking downstairs at the State instantly takes me back to 1985, when a movie poster hung on the wall announcing that Coming Soon! was some new movie about time travel starring that guy from Family Ties. I wish I remembered all the movies I saw at the State as a kid - I know there were quite a few - but mostly I just remember being in junior high, when it was the place to hang out and make out.

I'm pretty sure it's where I held hands with a boy I liked for the very first time. (I think the movie was Legal Eagles, a Robert Redford-Darryl Hannah-Debra Winger dud that I'm not even sure why I wanted to see given that I was in maybe in fifth or sixth grade at the time...Maybe it was because it starred that actress who was a mermaid? I don't remember anything about this movie, other than I had sweaty palms in the beginning as I wondered if and when Joey Farrell's fingers would ever touch mine outside of the popcorn container.)

The theatre itself, including a sweeping balcony and the rows of seats down low, are gorgeously re-stored after a longtime-coming renovation of this downtown landmark built in 1918. But the bathrooms? They likely got some sprucing up, but look the same as they ever did, which is just fine with me. The tiled floors and walls of the "sitting room," even the mirror hanging above the tiled bench, are all how I remember them. At the bottom of the stairs I take it all in, and I swear I can almost see my 13-year-old self standing with my girlfriends dabbing on lip gloss and ratting our bangs before spraying our hair with Aquanet.

This morning, we took our kids to the State, to see the clever flick Nanny McPhee. You can't beat the admission price to these 10:30 a.m. matinees: 25 cents. But even greater is the thrill I get from taking my kids to a place that's part of my childhood story. The older I get, it seems, the more I appreciate my hometown and really want my kids to get to know just how cool it is themselves.

Down in those bathrooms this weekend, I overheard an interesting conversation that proved I'm far from alone in carrying with me memories of the State.

"Oh, it's such a treat to be here," a woman appearing in her 60s or 70s told her friend. "I remember coming here with my friends, and we'd stay right on through the first movie and watch a second. Then we'd walk home to my house on 14th Street..."

The women continue talking about the theatre, how wonderful it is to see it come back to life. I couldn't agree more.

The State is home to the Traverse City Film Festival, which celebrates its 5th year this summer, July 28-Aug. 2. Check out the web site for Film Fest info as well as movie times and admission prices. You can also order tickets online.

What's your status?

"I'm on Facebook. Are you?"

It was nearly a year ago when a friend ended an email to me with this question. I was surprised she'd asked since it didn't seem like her kind of thing, this online social media stuff which back then I associated with college students, that generation for whom I babysat, those kids who downloaded music that if I were listen to would suddenly make me -- me! -- feel old. I also figured FB was more a spot to score hook-ups (or worse, thanks to those icky news reports of child molesters scouring online sites like MySpace).

My friend -- a beautiful, smart, classy woman who reminds me of Carolyn Bessette Kennedy -- certainly didn't fit the profile. Even after she told me she was on FB, I told myself I probably wouldn't ever go there, wouldn't be one of those people who seemingly get so tech-driven that they choose cyber interactions over the real-live kind. Emailing, texting, a writers' online forum - those were enough for me.

But Facebook kept popping up in conversation. "It's great!" my poised friend assured me. And then other friends -- intelligent, thoughtful, same-age-as-me friends -- started telling me the same. "You can share pictures of your kids...You can find long-lost friends you haven't seen in ages -- people you really want to find again!"

So, what's a girl like me to do? I'm cut from the curious cloth, after all, so what in the world was I waiting for? Shouldn't I find out for myself what all the fuss was about? So I did.

Now, I could be wrong, but I think Facebook and me, we're past the honeymoon phase. So I think I'm safe to share thoughts about this incredibly delicious time-suck without sounding overly excited and naive. I've gone through the initial overwhelm, the subsequent confusion, the surprising stings, the absolute awe and the tiring addiction. What I haven't reached, though I'm sure it's not far off, is what a friend so eloquently describes as "The Facebook Plateau." (Though even she acknowledged it was probably just the peach schnapps talking when she typed that status update...which reminds me, drunk facebooking = bad idea. Or so I've, um, heard.)

What stands out most to me, about three months into FB, is the sheer amount of people joining in. And I don't think this is really a case of me coming late to the party. I believe Facebook is spreading like wildfire, among people of all ages. Actually, it's pretty true if you look at the numbers: 150 million people across the globe are Facebook users as of Jan. 7, 2009, with half of these people logging in every day (yep, me included). Not bad for a 5-year-old site initially created by a Harvard whiz who wanted a simple way for his classmates to post profiles, browse or search for fellow students, view uploaded pictures and share their affiliations and interests. You can read more about 24-year-old Mark Zuckerberg's amazing feat here.

I wonder sometimes if Facebook's allure will fade, if we all won't tire of it and end up wondering what we were on when we spent so much time telling our network we're "busy folding whites," "watching the game," "excited about a kid-free night out!" or "about to sit down with a glass of wine." Will we think it's strange that we chose hanging out virtually (i.e. spying on our "friends") over in-person conversation with our neighbors, our kids, our partners?

And what about those status updates anyway? Does anyone else feel the pressure of being at your wittiest, your funniest, your best when you post something? I read a very clever article recently by Los Angeles writer Patricia Beauchamp about status envy. Here's a snippet of that article, the entirety of which you can read here:

"The underlying truism to the saying 'The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence' is that appearances are deceiving. But since Facebook has added a new level of voyeurism to surveying your neighbor's yard, I find myself wondering, more than I would like to, whether other people's lives really are better. After all, we have access to our friends' photos, videos and correspondence -- most everything but their tax returns -- which tend to support whatever claims they're making. If Casey's update says she "is living in paradise, being waited on hand and foot by a league of celebrity look-alikes," chances are that pictures will follow."

But, still. Let me say this: I find Facebook incredible cool, and honestly think it's pretty genius. Here are just a few reasons why:

* I'm truly feeling more connected with people who live in the same city as me. It's not that I don't want to talk with friends and family in person, it's just that none of us has the time! Now, yes, I still gab with friends in real life at coffee shops and restaurants. I see my parents and in-laws on a regular basis. I am not a hermit crab sitting in my pjs, staring at a computer screen all day long (at least, not most days). But, all that said, I now know more about what my friends and family are up to, are interested in and are talking about because of Facebook. They share what they want to share online, and I do the same. It's simple, it's easy, it's done on our own time. And it ends up enhancing our face-to-face time.

* There was a reason I was great friends with certain people from my past. Who is to know if I ever would have really made amends with one of my high school BFFs if it wasn't for Facebook (time and maturity has helped too, yes). Somehow, sharing photos of our kids and updating each other on our lives online has eased the silly-yet-real pain we caused each other all those years ago. Cheers to that!

* I never wanted to lose touch with some individuals - but life happens. I felt like I hit a Facebook jackpot the night I connected with friends I had while working at my college newspaper. I'm not kidding you when I say I felt like I unlocked a part of myself that desperately needed to be dusted off when I found these people and caught up with them. I was reminded why I went into the profession I am in and how these people were there when I was discovering this important part of myself.

* It's a new way of networking. Lately I've been intrigued by how we can help one another grow our businesses, whether we're working for a company or for ourselves. I love how people are posting their ventures and asking others to become "fans." Writer friends share links to their articles as well as suggest things to read. Good for us, I say. I suppose as a writer I am especially interested in new and different things happening in the world, but I think we all are. We all like to be connected, to know what's going on, especially when it comes to people we know. Facebook gives us that opportunity. And even non-businesses can get a boost --like my book club. A few of us have been talking lately about how we can discuss books in between gatherings via Facebook, now that we're all online. That's a pretty cool thing.

I can only imagine things will get even more interesting on Facebook as time goes on. One thing I think about is how we'll handle our kids wanting to open an account. So far, we deal with whose turn it is to play Webkinz when it comes to computer usage. But that will change soon enough, I know.

What do you love most about Facebook? What could you do without? And most importantly, What are you doing right now?

**UPDATE: Came across this funny video about Facebook etiquette today...**

Best magazine cover of the new year?

In the spirit of our upcoming historic presidential inauguration, I couldn't resist sharing this. And, a healthy debate is always a good thing in life, wouldn't you agree?

The following comes from a news release I received today from an editor contact of mine at Ms. magazine. I'll save my opinion for the end of this post...

Special Inaugural Ms. Issue Stirs Buzz & Debate

Ms. magazine’s new special inaugural issue has stirred up a lot of excitement—and some controversy. The striking cover by illustrator Tim O’Brien shows President-elect Obama opening his suit, Superman-style, to reveal the iconic “This is What a Feminist Looks Like” T-Shirt. Playing on the existing superhero imagery around the president-elect—who has himself joked “I was actually born on Krypton”--the cover reflects both the national and feminist mood of high expectations and hope as the 44th President of the United States takes the oath of office.

“This cover speaks for itself—we’re proud the president-elect identifies as a feminist,” says Ms. Executive Editor Katherine Spillar.

The cover has drawn acclaim on feminist blogs such as Feministe and Jezebel, where posted comments call it “awesome,” “inspirational” and “fantastic,” and one feminist says, “It shows pride in using the word feminist instead of derision that we’ve had for years.”

And feminist author Naomi Wolf went on CNN to defend the cover, saying, “Ms. sensibly [and] very obviously points out that this is what a feminist looks like.”

But it’s also stirred up a firestorm from PUMA PAC, a group that pledges to watchdog the Obama administration. They’ve launched an email and phone campaign to tell us “how laughable and insulting it is for [Ms.] to claim that Obama is a feminist.”

We at Ms. stand by our cover and embrace the opportunity to affirm that men can be feminists, too. Obama—who ran on the strongest platform for women's rights of any major party in U.S. history—self-identifies a feminist. Of course, we’re not wearing rose-colored glasses. As Ms. publisher Eleanor Smeal says in a Huffington Post editorial: “We are not giving President-Elect Obama a blank check. For our hopes to be achieved, we must speak out and organize, organize, organize to enable our new president's team to achieve our common goals. Ultimately, we must hold our leaders' feet to the fire, or to put it more positively, uplift them when they are caught in the crosscurrents of competing interests.” (See http://www.huffingtonpost.com/eleanor-smeal/this-is-what-a-feminist-l_b_157531.html)In this spirit, the editors of Ms. asked feminist leaders, experts, and activists—along with our readers—to share their visions of what must be done to move forward at this extraordinary time. Statements from Kim Gandy, bell hooks, Margaret Cho, Alice Walker, Ani DiFranco, Cynthia Enloe, Dolores Huerta, the editors of Feministing.com, and many others are in the current issue of Ms. and at http://msmagazine.com/winter2009/VisionOfChange_quotes.asp.

--
What I like best? That a man can indeed, rightfully be called a feminist. Way to go, Ms. magazine.

What do you think?

My love/hate relationship with January

Dear January,

You sure show up at just the right time, and this is said without a hint of sarcasm. Honest.

After all that holiday and birthday craziness your friends November and December throw my way each year, I'm more than ready to welcome you in for a nice, cozy stay. It's not about the resolutions thing you're so well known for, either. No, it's just this feeling you evoke, a sense of calm, of cleanliness even. I definitely feel it the moment the Christmas decorations come down, because let's face it: after 30+ days of blinking lights, stockings ultimately hanging haphazardly from the mantel and a Christmas tree that by the end has seen better days (not to mention better ornaments, thanks to a 3-year-old who ate an astonishing amount of the edible varieties), it all becomes a bit gaudy.

So, here you are, providing me with what feels like a clean slate. And, I don't need to tell you, my friend, that I'm very excited about saying sayanara to 2008.

And yet...as thrilled as I am to see you again, I'd be lying if I said you didn't bring with you some melancholy, just a teeny tiny bit. This is why: stretching out as far as I can see is....winter. Now, I am generally ok with winter. I like snow and even the cold. I'm a northern Michigan girl, after all. But still. For all of your wonderful attributes, January, I find myself pining for warmer times. Maybe at least you could allow some more sunshine to filter though?

But listen: I do love you for the following reasons:
1.) There's no better time to devour some really good books. I'm currently in the middle of The Year of Fog by Michelle Richmond. A quick, suspenseful read that's tough to put down. I also recently read Same Kind of Different as Me, an incredible true story of two men you'd never imagine would become close friends, but do. Another recent fave, the historical fiction book Loving Frank, which haunted me in a good way for weeks after completing it.
2.) SmartWool socks. These are just too cool. They keep your toes toasty, not sweaty. They come in all sorts of styles and colors, including cushioned which is great for running. They're available online, but I found my two beloved pairs for less $ at Yoga for Health in Traverse City, MI. Not the cheapest pair of socks you'll ever buy, but well worth the price.
3.) An indoor perennial that brings color inside. My friend Jenna gave us two potted Paperwhite bulbs just before Christmas, and I couldn't believe how quickly this flower bloomed. Highly fragrant, she made sure to just give us two. They're elegant, simple and beautiful.

I could go on, but I better say bye for now.

- Me

How about anyone else? What gets you through the winter blahs?

26.2 = crazy?

In one of those serendipitous moments that come along now and again, my friend Meg handed me the Spirit of the Marathon DVD the day after I signed up for my first marathon. I hadn't heard about this 2007 documentary until Meg mentioned how she'd just watched it and was completely moved by the film's following of both first-time and veteran runners preparing for the Chicago Marathon. We often recommend movies to each other, and this one was a definite one to watch, she told me.

I must say this before I go on: No one is more surprised than I that I'm digging running these days. Well, maybe my high school girlfriends, one of whom I saw this past week and who just stared at me a little slack-jawed and a bit speechless when the topic came up and I shared how I'd decided to sign up for the Bayshore Marathon. Not that I was a complete couch potato or anything back in the day, but I was decidedly not the cross-country running type. I didn't much care for exercise of any kind, really, unless you count my perfecting of a toe-touch. Voluntarily running mile after mile, going round and round a track? Now why in the world would anyone choose to do that?

But a lifetime later, I find myself taking time out of my days to lace up and run the roads and trails, even in the cold and snow, which really is mind-boggling if you think about it. I've subjected myself to several races even. And the kicker is that most of the time I actually like this madness. Even so, what's struck me in the past few years that I've taken to this sport is just how hard it is. Sure, some days are easier than others - the hills don't kill you as badly and your lungs and legs don't feel like they'll give at any moment - but really, it's a challenge each and every time. Not just physically, but mentally. Why go run when there's so many other things to do? When you could just as easily sit and veg?

That's why I loved this documentary so much. It answers that question of why anyone in their right mind would agree to run 26.2 miles. (History buffs will like learning about the origin of 'marathon' and there's some fascinating info on the 26.2-mile distance and how it affects our bodies.) Watching this affirmed my belief that running truly is a metaphor for life. There's days you're loving what you're doing, when your world of family, work and friends is jiving so well and you can't imagine things getting much better....and then, there's times you just want to give up, or at the very least, stop for awhile to catch your breath and maybe take a different route. But no matter what, you keep going, even when you don't want to or don't think you can, usually because you somehow find that inner strength and if you're lucky, have amazing people in your life to cheer you on.

One of my favorite lines from the film is from women's running pioneer Kathrine Switzer: "You triumph over the adversity, that's what the marathon is all about. And therefore you know there isn't anything in life you can't triumph over after that." (Kathrine, by the way, was the first woman to officially enter and run the Boston Marathon, nearly getting kicked out while she ran because she was female. Love her.)

This movie spoke to me because I run, but even if I didn't, I imagine I'd be inspired by these six individuals and their stories of how training for a marathon changed their lives. Check out the trailer, or better yet, watch this movie. Love it? Think I'm nuts? Let me know - I'd love to hear your thoughts.