Additionally...

{this post was imported from my old blog}

Kyle read the post about the Grandparents and was very disappointed that I did not include this one important part of the trip:
We were on our way back to Charlottesville and Pops pulled into a park & ride. There was a horrid sound coming from his van. Thankfully, Kyle knows a lot about vehicles, so he began having Pops pull forward, reverse, forward, then reverse, in an attempt to figure out where the sound was deriving from. After realizing it had to be something with the bearing or breaks, we (as in Kyle & Pops) rolled up our sleeves and began jacking up the van.

Kyle and Pops put Grams to work holding the tire as the boys figure out where the strange screeching sound was coming from

And there it is. The problem child, otherwise referred to as a WALNUT.

It was lodged in the only place possible where it could be stuck, squeezed nicely between the disk and the caliper. It took a few wiggles to loosen it enough to get it out.

Stunned and fully serious, Pops responds "You know, I did see a squirrel go under our car last night!"

Grandparents Visit

 {this post was imported from my old blog}

One thing I love is listening to stories of my grandparents. The "I walked five miles to school" stories have always intrigued me. My curiosity spiked when learning about our families from generations to generations.

Kyle's Pops and Grandma Collins came for a visit this past weekend. Interestingly, Kyle's great grandmother, "Nana," was one of the first women to graduate from the University of Virginia. She was required to go to classes during the summer as women were not allowed to attend classes with the men during the school year. She earned her teaching degree and eventually settled in Michigan because of lack of teaching jobs in Virginia. I never had the privilege to meet her, however, I do enjoy her incredible homemade cinnamon rolls recipe and a homemade quilt she made for each of her great grand children before she passed away.
Pops has wanted to come to VA since we've moved here. He has many memories of visiting his grandparents at their farm house in Strasburg, VA. He remembered the church his mother attended and the acres his grandfather taught him to drive a car on. We met them in the historic town of Strasburg on Friday night and spent Saturday morning wandering down memory lane with grandpa.

Hotel Strasburg. It reveals its age of 100 years old by the decorations inside...

We were able to find Pop's grandfather's grave down the road from the Hotel

After getting lost more than once, we found the road that his grandparents farmhouse was on. Passing a lime quarry, Pop's recognized some of the surroundings & shortly thereafter we discovered the longer driveway back to the home which holds so many of his childhood memories. He hadn't been to the farm in 40 years.

Unfortunately, we discovered this:

After speaking to a neighbor who said they would never tell, we did this:

We learned a wealthy man from DC bought the property and was planning on making it a vacation home. Thankfully, he had yet to tear down the home so we were able to explore:)

His uncle carved his name in the side of the house over 60 years ago.

Kyle is the 5th generation to be at this home.

After listening to some of Pop's great memories of visiting the farm in his youth, we made our way back to Charlottesville to share with our grandparents the place we call home.

It's strange to think about 60 years down the road, and the home we will bring our grandchildren to- to share endless memories of growing up and our early years of marriage.

Confessions of a Novice

{this post was imported from my old blog}

Shifting through the thousands of people, holding Kelly's hand, trying to find the large block letter that matched the letter printed on our bibs. Crowded, dark, music blaring, people screaming- there was no time to think about what I had gotten myself into. We found our spot in wave F, looking up only to see the clock go from 15, to 14, 13. Moving slowly towards to the large Start banner that hung overhead, 10, 9, before we knew it the speakers blared "Wave F, GO!"

It was only 7 months ago that I had ran in my first race, ever. The Charlottesville 10-miler, just two weeks before our wedding day. Hardly training, it proved to be a tough race, but I loved every single part of it. The cheering spectators, how it brought a community together, the outrageous outfits runners would sport, and rush of adrenaline with each mile completed. I caught a glimpse of the obsession so many have with running. I finished strong and excited, craving more.

My sister-in-law had done many races in the past, but never a marathon. My naivety mixed with my ability to set ridiculously lofty goals resulted in a conversation with Kelly, ending in "Okay! Let's do the Detroit Marathon!"

The months that followed resulted in early Friday nights to prepare for the longer runs on Saturday mornings. I remember the first time I ran 10 miles, I was so excited I could hardly stand it. I couldn't believe I did it. My body continued to acclimate. With each passing good run the excitement mounted, with each passing bad run the discouragement grew. The mental game was more difficult than the physical. Pounding the pavement day after day, week after week, month after month. I couldn't plan my weeks without planning when I would run. I couldn't look at the hills in Charlottesville and not think about what it would be like running up them.

The weeks grew closer, and before I knew it, I was already tapering. Where did the time go? Was I really ready to do this? My last few long runs went great, and I felt confident as ever. My muscles were no longer sore Saturday afternoons and Sunday mornings, my heart rate steady. My biggest worry was my inability to get outside of my own head. That didn't change come race day.

62 degrees and sunny was the forecast. We could not have asked for better weather. Running over the Ambassador Bridge into Canada, just as the sun was rising; orange and yellows saturating the horizon as "Holy Holy Holy is our God all Almighty" streamed through my earphones. "This is surreal, God you are incredible" just kept running through my mind.
That was only mile 2.  24.2 to go. Feeling energized & strong, but knowing that running solo would take its eventual toll. Coming out of the Detroit/Windsor Tunnel, thousands of people screaming. Again, surreal. Seeing my parents, in-laws and sister cheering me on almost made the tears fall. I felt my energy drop as soon as the number of spectators decreased. My mental stamina was being tested  two hours in.

I needed distraction. I had to get outside of my own head which kept buzzing; "I need to go the bathroom, my calves are cramping, I'm getting bored, loosen my shoulders, shorter strides, ipod is carving a nice scar in my thigh, my hands are numb from the sun hiding under the clouds, hills would be great right about now..." So on and so forth.

I looked around at what once was a sprawling metropolis. I began to pray over the streets, buildings and people. "Lord, revive this city!" The views of gorgeous architecture now collecting cobwebs, homeless men screaming to "keep running" and the reality of what this city once was and could be distracted me from my own selfish thoughts and concerns.

The miles kept going by. Those selfish thoughts weaseled their way back. Boredom set in. Muscle aches arose. Discouragement grew. Why was not I feeling stronger? I've trained so long, I should be dominating. Calves became to spasm. Now was the time to test myself- here it goes. Trying not to let others falling out beside me encourage me to do the same, I kept going. Bursts of energy from spectator crowds and bands helped get me through the final third. My father-in-law jumped in at mile 22.2 with words of encouragement and distractions. "Look at the beautiful river, look at those boats, take the inner corner." He even tried convincing me to get a dog for his son. It helped. The last 3 were a killer. Did I have it in me, did walking for one minute mean that I was giving up? I pictured Kyle telling me to keep going, cheering me on. Carrying on a normal conversation like champ, my heart & lungs felt great, it was my lower body that was suffering the beating with each step I took.
Two hills in the last mile helped relieve the pressure from my calf, I was probably the only runner who was so thankful for the minor elevation. The flat course proved difficult as all my training was in the hilly city of Charlottesville. Turning the corner, I saw the balloons, the Finish Banner and heard the music, I was off. I needed to see that light. Kevin jumped out, Kelly jumped in... and we crossed. What an experience it was to be able to share that with my sister-in-law, who, by the way, finished at 3:53 (Amazing!)

Victory. Finished. 4:21:19.  Yet beating up myself for not feeling stronger. My expectations and reality were two different worlds and my disappointment was equal to my joy of finishing. Cheers, hugs, congratulations, encouragements- celebration galore wouldn't kick the mild disappointment I felt inside. In the moment of accomplishment, I also felt defeated. What I just put myself through hadn't quite sunken in. I called Kyle immediately and I began to choke up just hearing the excitement in his voice.

That 26.2 miles held every emotion I could feel and every physical discomfort I thought I'd never endure. I stand humbled and amazed at this body our Creator gave me. If I remembered how difficult the low times were, I wouldn't want to put myself through that again. Thus, I excitedly plot my next marathon with those same naive eyes that pushed me through my first. Only now, I have a time to beat.


Even though I contemplated it, I concluded that carrying a camera would be a bad idea (there would have been some amazing pics!) Here are some pictures curiosity of our lovely mothers....

No turning back now...

Carb loading with oatmeal before we headed out. Yes, we match.

I learned a new trick. Use socks for gloves. All of the clothes thrown off during the race are donated to various homeless shelters.

Part of the fan club

Tyler jumped in and ran Kelly in from the 23rd mile.

Mile 24. Kevin, my father-in-law, helping to push me to the finish

FINISHED!

After a nice shower and getting lost in the D...

Kyle couldn't come to the race, but we celebrated our six month anniversary & the race on Monday) This is my bragging right: Even though it was a sacrifice, Kyle continued to encourage me, tell me how proud he was and even give my sore legs massages. He may be more thankful it's over with than I am;)



Around C'Ville

{this post was imported from my old blog}

Many people ask, what is Charlottesville like? In relative terms, its similar to Ann Arbor except with southern appeal and deep rooted tradition. Whether it's the architecture, history, or the impressive mountain views that draw me to always have a camera on hand, Charlottesville is a fun mini-mecca of photogenic opportunities. Although this regrets to capture a large part of C'ville (hiking, parks, vineyards, President's homes, orchards, etc), consider it a little visual tour to get your curious juices flowing...

Around The University of Virginia Grounds

You'll quickly come to realize that Thomas Jefferson is reflected in some way, shape or form, everywhere you turn. It's a bit overboard.

The white pillar motif is consistent throughout almost every building on grounds

The famous Rotunda (library). This was the first university campus of it's time to make the center of campus a library instead of a church.

The opposite side of the Rotunda facing the road. You'll also notice the "Z's" on many of the older buildings, supposedly representing a secret society.

"James Monroe's First Farm Site" sits at the center of campus

I love running by this church, the brick and detail hold so much character and history.

Pillars and Arches

The famous Historic Downtown District

 

Historic Court Square is made up of historic buildings which date back to 1791, once used during the civil war.

Freedom Wall

I've always loved this building. It's very similar to the new 'green' build at Monticello

Charlottesville Pavilion.

Millers is where Dave Matthews Band got their start

Like I said... TJ is everywhere.

The Views