Yesterday a human ran a marathon in two hours, 3 minutes and 2 seconds at Boston Marathon. Insanity! Chris had raced Boston many times, so we know its energy. In the finishing stretch, the excitement boils up from your belly to the top of your neck as your hair stands up watching the lead runners come in. It’s an inspiration that stays with you. The marathon is an amazing event because wether you are a record winner or a 5 hour finisher, the accomplishment is undeniable. There is no way of faking the distance and pretending the great effort. Each runner has a story behind every mile. For some you can almost see wings on their feet carrying them along. Never being the fluid runner, my miles have always been an uphill battle even as I run downhill. My running buddy once told me that I resemble a boxer in the way I loaf as I run. No world records here, but despite that, I run because it feels good to the core when it’s all said an done. Sometimes, you can even run the red carpet as Chris ran along Lance Armstrong at New York marathon a couple of years back. He thought to himself...”I’m beating Lance Armstrong” as he covered 26 miles with a huge grin on his face. I have seen runners that take a detours into McDonalds to order a Big Mac, wear disco costumes, run dressed as a hot dog, run shoeless, run with one leg, run for causes, run their 100th marathon. But one thing is clear throughout, they all run with heart. Now that I run with kids everyday, I see how it can transform even the smallest little bodies into powerhouses of kinetic energy. Smiles abound as they realize their potential. I may be running gimpy over the past two years, but I’m inspired. Inspired by the the new world record and inspired by a circle of friends that forge their own path of victory and accomplishment. Congrats to all of you. You got me to put my sneakers on and that is today’s miracle.
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It’s Monday. No need to rub your eyes to try to get them to focus. This photo isn’t getting any less blurry. It's strait from the camera. Photography can be like an experiment sometimes that goes dreadfully wrong or blow your mind right. I think this photo is somewhere in between. What do you think? Either way, I think it’s important to push the envelop sometimes because it’s the only way to improve your skill. Failure may be the first important step to learning how to someday get it right. Lets raise a glass to failure today so that tomorrow their may be success.
Mother Nature has a funny way of showing her face sometimes. Sometimes, she give us the cold shoulder by dumping many feet of snow on us in February. Other times, she smiles upon us as we enjoy a sunny day in. But if mother nature has ever had a bi-polar side, yesterday was it. We traversed NYC in what started out to be decent weather. The weather started to get colder and darker and you could feel it in your bones that something was amiss. While we watched a Broadway show, I had a strange feeling that the act going on outside would transform itself and in an instant, a new set was being dropped into place. As the show ended, we emerged into a city that had taken on a darker noire look. The wind hollered down the long avenues as tourist and delivery men were the only ones to be seen. Real new Yorkers were far too smart to be caught outside in this. We, however had a serious mission..shoes. Somewhere in Gotham City hid a pair of high top Coverse fit for a Cinderella who went by the name of Kate. We blew from the claustrophobic stalls of Canal Street southward towards the Battery. The rain seemed to come from every direction pelting our faces like a prizefighter with little jabs. We finally wound up in the maze of Century 21, a department store where all the tourist looked like drowned rats scurrying for shelter in the shoe department. Then we saw it...a beacon of light shining down on them while angels sang. On a shelf, we saw gromets and laces beautifully aligned with the word’s “Let It Be” written on the most wonderful pair of converse ever seen. It was like we had reached the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow! My favorite adolescent with her treasured shopping bag in hand skipped her way through what was now a monsoon. We giggled and screamed as lighting lit the skies and reflected off the mirrored buildings around us. It was the type of memory that will be forever etched into our minds. The fantastic storm continued to swirl for hours making New York City look like the tornado scene from the Wizard of Oz. Rather than seeing cows and picket fences swirling in the sky, we saw dog walking society ladies and metro buses being sucked up into vortex. But in the end all would be OK because Dorothy had on her “High-Top” ruby slippers. Just three clicks of her heels and we could find our way home. While some come home from the the land of Oz with courage, a heart or a brain, we came home with something even more important....hi-tops. As we left the great city, it became apparent that the great Oz had spoken and granted us our every wish.
Looking out the window, I can see the Statue of Liberty, the World Financial Center and the beauty of the NYC skyline. What’s most beautiful however is what’s inside this little room. Kate, and I are here in NYC to have some laughs and escape the boys. It’s a weekend of celebrating sisterhood. We’ll see a show with my sister-in-law and her sister flanked by some shipping in SOHO as we exhale in pure bliss. Kate sleeps next to me in this trundle bed and I feel I like I stepped back into a childhood sleepover as we stayed up late watching romantic comedies and talking into the wee hours. I opened my eyes and the view is truly unbelievable looking at out at this downtown scene. As I gaze around the room, I see something so much more profound though. Among the concrete jungle outside, this little room contains the heart and soul of a beautiful family. Somehow I see 4 lives defined to their very essence as I graze its perimeter. An entire story is told here. Patti has so well removed the clutter in her life and managed to showcase their most important memories in this tiny space. I can learn from her as she lives without the extras and gets to the root of things. They have moved around a lot and the extra junk is gone but a few poignant artifacts. The boys names hang on the wall. A model airplane flies over my head; a gift from my brother. Trophies of their championship ways are on a little shelf to help remind them to work hard, while a citizenship award hangs reminding them to be good. Cards from friends, a pine cone from a special hike, a hand-crafted paper cut out flower, hand prints framed on a wall, a pillow made by an aunt and a hand written poem define the space. A cross that I remember from my brother’s childhood sits in the corner, while a hooked rug from their early marriage depicts Nantucket, a place Patti has always loved. It is the picture of good parenting and a loving home. This is no Pottery Barn showroom trying to be something it’s not. There is no pretension here, just beauty and the miracle of love.
The field without Bambie... Every morning, a family of deer grazes out in a rise on the meadow across the street. The sun always catches them perfectly around 6:30 am guaranteeing a perfect photo. If only the little buggers would stay put. For two weeks now, I crawl out of my bed, grab my Wellies and camera and start my pathetic attempt to capture the beauties. The front door opens slowly as I squish my dog's head back inside while he wonders why I would deny him his morning adventure. I creep around the house, with my honker of a Sigma lens fully extended and ready to shoot. In unison, all 5 deer look up sharply. Busted... They’re on alert and I look like an idiot. I am sure now that they see my unsightly look, hair flying everywhere, a wreck walking towards them, giving them every reason to bounce away from my shot. In an instant, they’re gone. If they had a middle finger they would have given it to me. No miracle here. Yet day after day, I wait for it. Denial is sometimes the best way to seed success. When it comes someday, it will feel sweet. If it doesn’t, the journey will in some way still hold its merit in the pure fact that you tried. I think this goes for everything we do. In this case, Bambie’s day in the spotlight will have to wait and so will I.
For the past week our yard has become an arena for a chorus of chattering tweets. Finding the source is like a playing a game of Where’s Waldo. You hear the sound and look in every which way. Then another tweet chimes in and it throws you off. This place is going to the birds…literally. Yesterday’s rain brought upon us a wormy suicide that I haven’t seen in ages. While the rain directed us inside, it was like a great big party out there for our feathered friends. They were going to and fro, twigs and worms to their beaks, whistling blissfully while they worked. They seemed to be in a frenzy picking up as much as they could, knowing their opportunity would be fleeting. You felt happy for them knowing their starved winter bellies would now be full. This morning, as I waited for the bus with Kate, this little one serenaded her reminding her of how lucky we are that spring is here.. It feels good to know that hope springs eternal for us while it sings eternal for them .
Happy at home....1st shot with the d700 back in my arms.Yesterday was like Christmas. My d700 came back in the mail after a two week spa vacation in the Nikon repair center. The past weeks or so was a great time to spend with an old friend my d90 and catch up on old times. My husband laughed as I danced the waltz around the kitchen and gave a lift to my camera body that was all perfectly wrapped in plastic. I felt like a character from Glee as I broke out in song of Paul Simon's singing,
“I got a Nikon camera I love to take a photograph So Mama, don't take my Kodachrome away.” My crowd of imaginary Glee-mates chime in the chorus, “Mama don’t take my Kodachrome”. I have had the camera for nearly a year now, but in the spirit of spring, it felt new and bursting with possibilities. Despite the rain I walk outside with no lens, no battery and press the shutter as my imagination runs wild. In true Glee style, the singers are jumping from one patch of grass to another with camera in hand, belting out the tune as they click away. “You give us those nice bright colors You give us the greens of summers Makes you think all the world's a sunny day, oh yeah! “ In life there are little moments of sheer glee...this is one of them. I have been enlisted yet again. When ever Chris's birthday rolls around, I sit and wait for the inevitable. I have a man in my life that thinks little of the material things. He just wants to have fulfilling experiences that he can take with him. When his birthday approaches, both his mother and I start to get nervous about our lack of birthday gift ideas that would make him happy.work for Chris. A tie would never work, he never wears one. When you have a somewhat extreme man in your life, all of the usual things seem just that...usual. So we end up on some obscure marathon guide looking for the next adventure. When we were first married, the marathons that were chosen were somewhat typical. We would pick the biggies like New York, LA; the type that had 30,000 people or more garnished with lots of hoopla. As he has reached the ungodly number of 68 marathons with 13 more planned for this year, what happens is that one starts to look for the more unusual events, things that few weirdos take on. You look to run through deserts, mountains, streams; anything that seems unorthodox. You would think that the Ironman would cover the extreme factor, but wait, there's more. He discovered something called brevets over the past years; events where you ride your bicycle day and night for days on end, up to 700 miles give or take a few. Fun...right? So what's the next stop on "Jenny's Lonely Weekends Tour 2011"? I am never quite sure. Truth is that I have grown accustomed to his zainy ways. Rather than fight it, I embrace it knowing he finds himself somewhere out there on the road. In October, he won't be alone. As part of his gift, I was added to the race list. I have come to expect this every now and then. This time the race just goes up... way up. Somewhere in Arizona, we'll be running up some mountain just to see how good that feels. Thanks Jane for thinking of me. It's a family affair and has been forever in the Schulten house. As any given race, nine out of the nine immediate family members will join forces to cover the distance. Someday soon, my kids can join the fun too. Either way, it is always a sweaty experience full of laughs, port-a-potty experiences, forgotten shoes, many beeping gps's and gas...lots of gas. The miracle here is that this lifestyle keeps us together as a family as we find a common bond through endurance and sore muscles. My mother in law even forewarned me on the eve of my wedding that the territory we cover as a family is long and hard. We may take the road less traveled and we have worn down more shoes than I would like to count, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. Happy Birthday Chris! You truly do break the mold. "Jenny's Lonely Weekend's Tour 2011"
Spring is here. It’s time to air out our lives. Our goal to make things feel new, fresh and clean. Open the windows, pull out the rugs, seed the lawn, and clean the sills. It’s all part of the process. Nothing says spring to me more accurately than seeing a clean load of laundry swaying perfectly on a line. With each clothespin, we snub winter and it’s dank chill while also telling the electric company to take a hike. One of the perks of an old home is that it looks perfectly reasonable to have your laundry hanging on a line. It actually looks appropriate. Pinning each piece of laundry brings you back to a more simple time when no press of a button was necessary to accomplish everyday task. Normally, I don’t balk at modern day conveniences; I think that Keurig and Netflix are the coolest inventions ever. But with all of the fancy gadgets these days, the laundry line allows us to revel in a simple pleasure. Watching kids run through blowing sheets on a line is one of life’s little pleasures. Seeing cotton pieces billowing in a rainbow of colors is somehow refreshing. Even as I grab for the t-shirt that stands a bit on it’s own, there is comfort in knowing that nature took its course here. While uninvited guest like spiders, bees and clothespins often come along for the ride, how could we blame them? I only wish, every solution in life was quite this simple.
Your big prize has been lost.You know, the one that you cherish most because you spent an entire week deciding on which one you should choose. Most parents get roped into the souvenir prize that will somehow help etch a memory of the awesome vacation that has come and gone. Why pictures don’t do the job, I’m not sure. Peter chose a Harry Potter Wand to keep the magic going when he came home from Harry Potter World in Orlando. He carried that thing everywhere trying desperately to turn his sister into a frog, or a pile of rocks into xbox games. Somehow he managed to lose it on the worst travel day of the year...Christmas. We usually trek in the form of a triangle going from our house to both grandparents. The amount of stuff that goes in and out of the car on that day is unprecedented. He loses the wand and the search begins. This is no simple search. It requires calling all of the cousins asking if the wand got mixed up in their melee. The game of 20 questions of where he last saw it brings no wand. We tore apart our house, our car, both grandparent's homes, bedrooms, everywhere, yet the search was fruitless. The next step was to hit the HP catalog and replace the thing, but I was reminded that it didn’t have the same magic because being a souvenir gift it was irreplaceable. Five months after the fact, I still have the wand in the back of my mind as look around the house for other things that have been added to the “need to find list”. That list includes my head, which my husband says has fallen off an rolled away years ago. Yesterday, thirty of us gathered at my parents for their 50th anniversary. Unassumingly, my nephew Walter walks in holding up a stick asking if anyone lost a wand on the grass? At the same time, a group of us chime in celebrating Peter’s wand!. Today’s miracle! We raise a glass to finding the wand while we toast my parents 50th. It had been buried under the snow for 5 months and must have fallen during the Christmas present transfer. The magic has found it’s way back into Peter’s hand and we can all be thankful for that, except for his sister who may finally be transformed into a frog after all.
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