Run, Dream Girl, Run

Sunday morning, as the sun rises in the east, Dream Girl will join thousands of other runners in surging down Broad Street eastward from the starting line of the Columbus Marathon.
She plans to run a half marathon to celebrate her last chemotherapy treatment for breast cancer. I think that was about a week and a half ago, maybe two weeks.
I can't imagine going through surgery and chemotherapy for six months then running a half marathon. That's 13 miles.
Dream Girl is truly amazing. She tries to say that she isn't doing anything special, but that she hasn't felt bad.
All I can say is that when I think of Dream Girl, I think of a word that Grace texted me last week: awe-full. That's me, full of awe for all that Dream Girl has gone through -- with a smile while trying to make other people not feel so bad about it.
My friend Pam is running too, but she doesn't want anyone to know, so don't cheer for her, like we did one year, yelling, "Go Pam!" at every group until we finally found her.

Overactive Morning

Man, am I feeling the aches and pains of age, or maybe it's just overexercising. When I got up this morning at 5:30, I could feel the muscles in my booty and thighs groaning. I've been devoted to P90X again this week and yesterday's "Legs and Back" workout took its toll.

Of course, I was up at 5:30 so I could meet my friends for our Saturday morning run.
We ran our 7.5 miles, although a cramped calf about half a mile from the end caused us to walk a bit. That wasn't my cramped calf, it was Dream Girl.
Dream Girl had her last chemotherapy session for breast cancer last Friday. She plans to run the half marathon next week to celebrate. Her hair is starting to grow in wispy and light, as opposed to the dark lustrous locks she had before she shaved it off. She looks like a downy baby duck with the hair standing in a short, fuzzy ball around her head. Now that the chemo is finished, it should start to grow back in full force. She's the only woman I know who actually looks good bald.
Running with my friends doesn't even feel like running. They listen to my stories and they say the wisest things. Pam points out that Grace processes all these experiences as they happen, rather than waiting 10 years and learning the lesson afterwards. They just put a good spin on what some might see as failures.
On the drive home, about 15 minutes, I flexed my hands trying to get feeling in them again. It wasn't that cold this morning -- 50 degrees when I left the house, so I wore shorts rather than the running pants I had laid out last night. We could see our breath throughout the run and I left my fleece on.
I've learned that the only way to warm my hands after a cold run is to hop in the shower. Even a cup of hot coffee doesn't help, but I wasn't finished exercising yet.
When I walked in the house where the men were still sleeping, husband and elder son, I put in the CD and started to do the Kenpo workout for P90X. I skipped the warmup, figuring that a 7.5 mile run was enough of a warm up. Kenpo is sort of like kickboxing or martial arts. Lots of kicks and punches. My hands finally started to warm up about half way through that workout. Then I turned on Ab Ripper X. I only made it through about 10 minutes of that before I decided I'd hit the wall on exercise.
Earl and I walked downtown to the farmer's market where we bought apples and tomatoes then stopped for a coffe.
I don't think I'm leaving my chair for the rest of the day while I grade papers.
Oh, shoot. I forgot that I have to take Tucker to a swim meet this evening. Midnight Madness. I am definitely not lasting until midnight!