Worth It

Hi guys, remember me? I’m that girl who used to share random blips of her life with you until she silently retreated to a small corner of the earth and shunned the virtual world for months on end. I’m just now emerging from my wedding-induced silence, and I still want to be friends. Can we just pick up where we left off, like those rare, precious friendships where you can go a year without talking yet reunite without skipping a beat? Yeah, let’s do that.

Besides the fact that wedding planning is one of the most rigorous, time-intensive activities on the face of the planet, allowing virtually no time for extracurricular activities such as sleeping and blogging, I wanted to spare my handful of followers of the daily minutiae that’s inevitable during the months leading up to a wedding. Because while I’m known for my detail orientedness, discussing the merits of burlap ribbon with wire-finished edging versus burlap ribbon with frayed edges is not a primary interest of mine. So I chose not to talk about it.

Now that I’m married, though, and have combed through all those tiny details in private, I can (and will, in an upcoming post) share some of the more meaningful elements from my wedding. Also now that I’m married, I no longer have to spend my afternoons registering for gifts and interviewing photographers and making ridiculous crafts. Honestly, and clearly, I couldn’t be more happy to be done with the wedding and into the marriage. Because marriage is freaking awesome, y’all. It’s pretty much the coolest thing I’ve ever been a part of, and I’ve been involved in some pretty cool stuff in my lifetime. Ahem, dragon boat racing, anyone?

So by now you’ve gathered that I am not a wedding-y person. I am very much a love-y person, I just didn’t have the wedding part planned out by the age of 7. So when Jax and I got engaged, we started at square one. We moved from talk of a destination wedding to plans for an intimate ceremony at home, and seriously contemplated eloping about a million times in between. Past brides (and grooms) know what I’m talking about.

Now that we’re on this side of the wedding, I can honestly look at January 19th, 2013 as the best day of my life to date. Actually, more accurately, I can look at it as the fastest day of my life, as it was basically an insane whirlwind of nerves and flowers and hugs. But it marked the day that my husband and I shared the most tender, unconditional vows under the sun that were then celebrated by our closest family and friends, and that is what makes a perfect day.

Yesterday, we received our wedding pictures from our very talented photographer, and the emotions ranged from laughter to tears to goosebumps as we relived the hours in which we devoted our lives to each other.

Turns out, it was all worth it.

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Ready. Set. Chicago.

The Chicago Marathon was a blast.

And I’m not just saying that because I’m some delusional marathon freak who gets a kick out of waking up at 5am to ride the L across the city and stand outside shivering for 45 minutes while waiting for my wave to cross the start line so I can run for 4.5 hours as blood blisters form on my toes and my legs slowly turn to lead. It has nothing to do with that, I swear.

My experience in Chicago redeemed my faith in running marathons. Unlike my last marathon, where I crossed the finish line whimpering, mere inches from blacking out, I finished Chicago strong and able-bodied. Well, able-bodied may be a bit of a stretch, as I turned into a zombie seconds after completion (as in, everything was fuzzy, my dexterity plummeted, and it took me a solid minute to get from a standing to seated position). I’m not saying it wasn’t hard and that my muscles weren’t on fire, I’m just saying that I liked it a whole lot better this time around. As in, I could (will) do it again.

The abridged recap goes something like this:

Kim, Heather, and I started the journey together, and within .2 miles, Kim and I had no choice but to break away to take care of some urgent business. We aren’t two minutes into the race, and we’ve already lost Heather. Great. Our only solace was that we had empty bladders, and that is a necessity when you’ve got 26 miles ahead of you. We ran for miles and miles at a steady pace, entertaining ourselves with random conversation, the city sites, occasional spottings of our cheerleading significant others, and clever spectator signs.

Some of our favorites:

  • Worst parade ever
  • If Britney Spears can survive 2007, you can survive 26.2
  • Forward is a pace
  • Call me, I like your stamina
  • Toenails are for sissies
  • Run like you stole something
  • The Kenyans went that way ~~~~~>
  • You are beating all the people behind you
  • And the ever classic, Don’t poop your pants

Soon after the half marathon mark, by some stroke of sheer luck, we magically caught up with Heather and eventually finished the race in trio fashion. See, look how happy we are!

We ran without taking one walking step until mile 19 (my longest consecutive mileage ever!), where we enjoyed our first small break. And I mean enjoyed with every fiber of my being. Your body gets so tired of performing the same repetitious movements over and over and over for hours on end, even the seemingly small act of switching from a run to a walk makes your muscles rejoice. And cry a little, too. It’s basically all painful from here on out. From this point forward, we walked a stint at the beginning of each mile until the finish, but overall our run/walk ratio was much more impressive than my first marathon attempt. We pressed on, and on and on and on, and eventually, after 4:30:39 had elapsed, we crossed that finish line, and it was a beautiful thing!

We owned the Chicago Marathon, and we’ve got medals to prove it. We’re a little zombied out, a lot sweaty messes, and ready to collapse, but we made it! This calls for a celebration, and celebrate we did!

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It’s Marathon Time

Early tomorrow morning, I board a plane with a phenomenal cast of characters, we fly to the bustling city of Chicago, and (the majority of us) run the Bank of America Chicago Marathon.

Pinned Image

26.2 miles. All at one time. Let’s suffice it to say that I’m not overtrained. In fact, as well as I can calculate, I only ran 191.45 of the 435 training miles Hal Higdon would have preferred. Clearly, overtraining won’t be an issue. And I am perfectly ok with that. I prefer it, in fact. I’m pretty sure my body would have fallen apart if I had doubled my training. Either that, or my head would have exploded in attempt to juggle the multitude of obligations and activities crowding my proverbial plate. Having said that, my only goal is completion. And enjoyment (as much as one can enjoy running nonstop for 4+ hours).

Ready or not, marathon weekend is upon us, and I. AM. PUMPED.

Vacation starts NOW!

The Proposal

Most of you have already heard the story (many of you probably more than once), but I can’t not post it on my blog, that would just be poor form. So here’s your chance to enjoy it again. You’re welcome.

As I’m sure you’ve gathered, Jax and I love to travel. Love, love, love it. So, naturally, we spent this past Fourth of July enjoying the great state of Colorado. One day there will be pictures and blog posts galore recounting the whole trip, but that day is not today. Today we focus on the engagement (which is pretty much my favorite item to focus on anyway, so that works out nicely).

The story goes something like this:

Upon arrival in Denver, our host informs his car full of eager travelers, fresh off of the plane, that we are going on a hike in Rocky Mountain National Park the following day. I love this idea, thankful for any opportunity that involves outdoor activity. Little did I know, Jax had orchestrated the whole deal, and it ended with a surprise proposal.

But we’ll get to that. Let’s start from the top.

Early on the morning of Saturday, June 30, we drive thousands of feet in elevation, gazing at the grand peaks surrounding us. We take our time winding across the mountain range, drinking in the spectacular views and impressive wildlife. As in, there were massive elk standing within whispering distance from us. We eventually reach the trailhead and dig into the forest. The beginning of the hike is tough as we climb elevation quickly, but eventually the landscape flattens out, and we merrily proceed along. Since there is no distinct end to our trail, someone suggests we hike until we come upon the “perfect spot”, which we will consider to be the turn-around point.

We eventually find what we’re looking for – a picturesque little nook with a babbling brook trickling down the mountainside, patches of ice above, wildflowers and vast forest below. We marvel at the view. Justin and Minda silently fade into the distance, and before I know what is happening, Jax is down on bended knee asking me to share the rest of my life with him. The moment was literally breathtaking, and it had nothing to do with the high altitude and everything to do with the man kneeling in front of me. It was beautiful and emotional and romantic and perfect, and I of course responded with joyful affirmation.

Turns out, this guise of a mission in search of the most beautiful location on Milner’s Pass was all for me.

Up on that mountain, 11,000 feet in the air, we committed to forever together. Rather than immediately sharing it with the world, we decided to relish in our engagement privately for the next ten days of our vacation. Aside from our parents, who were on standby thanks to Jax’s gentlemanly notice, the world was oblivious, and we shared our engagement with each other alone (with the exception of our dear friends who were there to celebrate the occasion with us).

By far the most favorite secret I’ve ever kept.

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A Monumental Month

I miss you guys. Like really, really.

This month has been monumental, in a life-changing, breath-taking, love-affirming, God-thanking kind of way. One of the greatest months of my life, and I haven’t even had a chance to tell you about it.

Between spending ten adventurous days exploring Colorado, being surprised with a beautiful proposal, living in a state of absolute giddiness, celebrating the exciting news with family and friends, diving headfirst into the throes of preliminary wedding planning, researching every resort known to man in the Caribbean Islands, training for a marathon, trying on wedding dresses, and other life activities, I’ve barely paused to breathe, let alone visit the blog.

You want details, and I’ve got plenty for you. But details take on a whole new level when combined with photos, and uploading pictures off a camera seems like an insurmountable feat right now. Priorities, you know? But I’ll get there soon. 

For now, thanks for hanging with me during the drought. I hope to pick up the posting soon!

Running Hiatus Comes to a Screeching Halt

I just booked a flight to Chicago.

To run 26.2 miles.

When I woke up this morning, this was not part of the plan. Up until a few days ago, this marathon was not even on my radar. But through a series of fortunate events, encouraging friends, enticing ticket prices, and available race bibs, it has manifested into a concrete event that will actually be taking place in my life on October 7, 2012. This is real life.

I know, I know…I realize I said never again. In fact, upon completing my first marathon, I believe these were my very words:

Two days later, I am still in a world of pain; every fiber of my being hurts. Walking is difficult, the act of sitting makes me grimace, and going down stairs nearly brings me to tears. Even sleeping hurts. Once I am a bit more removed from the pain I might feel differently, but as of now, I declare that I am not running another marathon. I’m told my feelings on the matter will change as I regain mobility and forget the discomfort, but as for now, I am hurting, and I am not inclined to even entertain the idea of putting myself through another round of torture.

So yeah, call me crazy, but I just committed to another dose of this. On purpose.

Which means, coming off a much-needed running sabbatical, I am back in full-force training mode in preparation for the Chicago Marathon.

After achieving a half marathon PR in Mississippi, I gave myself permission to take a guilt-free break from running, and it has been so, so good. My body loves me for it, my mind loves me for it, and my social calendar loves me for it. For roughly two months, I haven’t run more than ten miles total (with the exception of this past week, which marked my official comeback to the running world). The hiatus has not only given me a chance to focus on some other areas of fitness – weightlifting, yoga, core, biking, and various other activities – but it has also relieved my mind of the demanding and somewhat monotonous rigours of routine running. Not only that, but I firmly believe our bodies deserve seasons of rest. It is both physically and mentally draining to continuously perform at a high level, and every now and then you just need to settle down for a little rejuvenation.

Fortunately, time off has made me miss running just enough to where I am pumped to begin marathon training. Good thing indeed, because I’ve got 16 weeks of intensive training ahead of me, and the mileage adds up quickly.

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Drive-by Memories

On our way to Asheville, we passed through Knoxville, the home of my alma mater. From the highway, I caught quick, blurred glimpses of some of the city’s sights, and it triggered a flood of memories. In this particular situation, my recollections were relegated to some of the taller locales, as those were the only buildings that stood out at 75 miles per hour. I saw the hospital that hosted my mom and I for eight days after my emergency appendectomy, the on-campus college apartments I lived in for two years, the Sun Sphere where I attended many an outdoor concert, and Neyland Stadium, where I spent countless fall Saturdays watching football.

Our brief drive-by also made me wonder why I had never before made the short two-hour trip to Asheville when I lived four years in a neighboring town. Which then made me question why I didn’t do a lot of the things I could have done.

I could have spent more time in the surrounding mountains and taken advantage of the proximity to North Carolina. I could have joined the Canoe and Hiking club, which I dabbled in but never committed to, because I didn’t want to “give up” my weekends. I could have studied abroad in a multitude of countries. I could have taken my major in a totally different direction. I could have learned French more fluently. I could have started running sooner. Bottom line – I could have done a lot of things differently.

If I was the me I am now, I would have. But I wasn’t, and that’s really all there is to say about that.

Sure, I had my fair share of random excitement. I took ballet, racquetball, and weightlifting classes. Visited New Orleans, Washington DC, Virginia, Ohio, South Carolina, and Chicago collectively more times than I can count. Captained an intramural sand volleyball team. Took a road trip to meet my pen pal of ten years. And so on and so forth (I mean really, how do you adequately list four years worth of activities?!). But looking back, I can’t help but think that there’s so much more I could have done.

But isn’t that just how life goes?

It’s called growth, and it’s all part of the journey. We get to know ourselves better, we change, we develop new priorities and interests. We acquire fresh knowledge and passion, and we begin to see the world differently than we did before. It’s quite beautiful, really. We (ideally) grow upwards and forwards, becoming a constantly revised version of who we once were.

There’s no need to look back at what wasn’t, because it can’t be changed. And it’s all part of your story. The only thing to do now is move forward, be thankful for the past that shaped you into who you are, and collect new experiences that appeal to the you of today.

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May Taught Me

  1. I wish I had sheets made of Ranunculus.
  2. For those of you who didn’t work a brief stint at a florist and therefore aren’t quite sure what Ranunculus is, I’ll have you know it is quite possibly the softest flower in existence.
  3. The more carrots I eat in one sitting, the less I like them.
  4. It is highly inadvisable to get your oil changed the day you wake up with a mysteriously painful crick in your neck that prevents you from turning your head to the left, therefore making it virtually impossible to interact with the service tech at your window.
  5. The first letter of every continent’s name is the same as the last: America, Antarctica, Europe, Asia, Australia, and Africa. I like this.
  6. One tablespoon is equivalent to three teaspoons.
  7. Blackberries and almond butter heated in the microwave for 20 seconds is my new favorite treat.
  8. Cory Branan’s new album, Mutt, is a musical masterpiece.
  9. Riding your bike from downtown to midtown to see a movie makes the movie that much better.
  10. I’ve written fewer blog posts this month (a measly three) than any other since I started this thing 29 months ago. Sorry about that.
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Forfeiting Your Memories

If we are standing in an audience at the foot of an admired musician, and I see your hand raise and wobble around while holding an illuminated LCD screen trying to capture a picture or recording of said performer, I can’t help but shake my head. Chances are, your production value isn’t going to be of any quality worth reproducing, and more importantly, you are missing the point of live music. It’s about being there in that moment without distraction, appreciating the art in front of you. While it is being performed. You lose the beauty of the moment when you allow your iPhone in. Essentially, what you are saying is that your reality is less interesting than the story you are going to tell about it.

Put down your cameras, people, and just be present.

I once attended a Wilco show at the Orpheum (circa 2009) where Jeff Tweedy literally held a video-recording spectator’s phone hostage, accusing the offender of “forfeiting their memories to an imperfect medium.” Maybe that was a bit harsh, but I respect the principle behind it. If you spend your night zooming and clicking in an effort to capture the event on your smart phone, you are robbing yourself of the real-life experience, and what’s better than being totally engaged in the here and now? By electronically documenting the moment, you are letting go of something that was uniquely yours (your memories and personal experience), something that no one else can have, and giving it away, and there’s something somber about that loss.

I’m not saying I’ve never been guilty of this behavior, because I have stage photos (never recordings) from the past (though certainly not since Tweedy reprimanded the audience for living life second-hand). I’m also not saying it’s the ultimate crime if you are watching the show from behind your iPhone screen, or that I like you any less for doing so. More accurately, I’m just sharing some fresh food for thought, encouraging you to have a more present, and therefore more fulfilling, experience next time.

Besides, what are you planning on using that picture for? Are you going to look back at the out-of-focus blur fondly? Or are you just posting it to your social media outlet of choice to prove that you were there?

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I Just Might Go Paleo

I have always been interested in food. Interested in eating and enjoying it, absolutely, but also more recently in its composition and effects on the body.

Fortunately, I’ve eaten relatively well for as long as I can remember. I swore off fast food and soft drinks my senior year of high school and never looked back. I’ve always loved my fruits and veggies, I eat whole grains, I chose the low sodium option, I drink lots of water, and I know how to make dessert an occasional treat rather than a nightly occurrence. You know, the basics. In college, I took a nutrition class that taught the scientific fundamentals of a carbohydrate and the detriments of a Vitamin A deficiency, but while I absorbed the information, I didn’t fully put it all together or apply it to my lifestyle in any meaningful way. I ate what I knew to be good, but I didn’t really know why.

Despite my ongoing natural tendency of eating a balanced diet, it’s only been in the past several months that I’ve begun eating with a new mindset. More than ever, I’ve been interested in feeding my body foods that will give it healthy nutrition. Not necessarily the lowest calorie food, but the food that makes my body the happiest. Foods that come in Mother Nature’s packaging, that are natural and fresh (added bonus points for being organic and local).  

It doesn’t feel like deprivation, it feels natural, satisfying, clean, and pure. It’s about respecting my body, being thankful for this vessel God gave me, and taking care of it as best I can. It’s hard to describe, it’s something you have to experience on a personal level, but just know it’s a good place to be. Which is why I’ve been considering going Paleo. Paleolithic eating, for those of you who don’t know, is a type of eating that mimics the habits of our ancestors. The ways people fed themselves before there was high fructose corn syrup and highly processed candy bars. It comprises a diet high in (good) fats with plenty of protein and not so many carbohydrates.

At this point, as I said before, I have not absolutely decided on this conversion; I’m just merely researching the details of this lifestyle. It may not be all that different from my current patterns, though I’m positive there are tweaks to be made. There’s a wealth of information out there, and I’ll keep you informed as I uncover more.

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April Taught Me

  1. Wrap dresses and windy days = not a good combination.
  2. Eating dinner directly before playing an intense soccer game is not the most agreeable situation.
  3. The state of Arizona does not participate in Daylight Savings Time. Rebels.
  4. Those catchy songs that get stuck in your head in an aggravating loop are called earworms.
  5. Record books no longer recognize “youngest” feats.
  6. A couple minutes lounging in the steam room after an intense yoga session is a magical combo. Must do that more often.
  7. The Olympic Marathon course has more than 90 turns.
  8. Friendship bracelets are just as meaningful now as they were when I was 12.
  9. It is illegal to kill honeybees in the state of Tennessee. My grandmother learned this the hard way.
  10. It takes a whole new level of coordination to kick a soccer ball with your nondominant leg.
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Greek Yogurt Conversion Chart

If you are as obsessed with Greek yogurt as I am, then you might find the conversion chart below highly useful. And if you are not as obsessed with Greek yogurt as I am, might I implore you to become so. It is absolutely the way to go, boasting double the protein and half the sugar of regular yogurt. Not only is it a quick and healthy snack, but it can also easily be incorporated into your other cooking endeavors as well. How very versatile!

Chobani Conversion Chart

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Number Your Days

Every once in a while, often unexpectedly, something happens that jolts you into the heavy realization that our days are not guaranteed. Each moment is a precious gift, and how we spend those minutes matters. Life is not the time to hold back; it is the time to bloom. It’s the time to try new things, to find beauty in the small details, and to live victoriously.

Which is why I instantly fell in love at first sight with Psalm 90:12.

So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.

What an eloquent reminder of the brevity of life, of how rapidly our days pass away, and how certainly they will eventually come to an end. This Scripture tells us not merely to count our days mathematically, but to number them. To make them worthwhile. We have not enough time at our disposal to justify misspending a single quarter of an hour, nor are we sure enough of life to rationalize procrastinating for another moment.

So fill up your days, and fill them well.

Book that flight. Sign up for the 5k. Give sushi a chance. Do something that makes you uncomfortable. Paint your bathroom green. Forgive your trespassers. Go out on a limb. Love like crazy. Grow your relationship with God. Try something new. Forget the excess. Stop worrying. Notice the scent of honeysuckle in the air. Hug your parents. Make something beautiful. Spend time with the ones you love best.

Whatever it is that’s weighing on your heart, do it, because this life is precious, and it is fleeting. Customize yours, and make it count.

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Calendar Overload

I have been going, going, going nonstop, and I’m beginning to feel it. Over the years, I’ve developed a unique talent for fitting plans into small blocks of remaining open time slots until my days are so tightly arranged that I barely have enough time to fly from one event to the next. Ask me what I’m doing on a random weekend in September, and chances are it includes some event involving physical stamina, live music, travel, or a loved one’s important life event. I’m the queen of the calendar, and while there are some benefits that flow from that, there are negatives as well. It’s no secret that I like to keep a full schedule, but I’ve found that too many consecutive days of too much activity a rested Mel does not make. More is not always better.

My plan-filled week looks something like this: dine with the fam, attend Grizzlies game, prepare and host a dinner for friends, try out a new dance class, play in a late-night soccer game, catch up with an old friend over dinner, attend a rocking concert, swing by a bachelorette party before heading to Nashville, belay and rock climb the morning away, then turn right back around to catch another round of the Grizzlies taking care of grizzness. And that’s just the evenings *catches breath*. Overlay that onto a full-time work week, your typical daily errands, a rigorous workout schedule, and performing normal daily functions such as eating and showering and occasionally sleeping, and you can see how it’s difficult to find a moment of stillness.

I thrive on filling my days with various and random activity, that’s plain to see, but somewhere deep down, I know we weren’t made for constant action. We need down time. It’s a necessity, a requirement. We need time to rest, to reflect, to be quiet and still. I fight this notion, though I know it has merit. If the Author of Life prescribed rest on the seventh day, He must have had a very good reason for it.

So, I think I’ll give it a try.

I’m excited for the remaining days in this week, thankful for the people I’ll get to spend my time with, for the ability to push my body in these ways, for the opportunities I might have to bless others. But I’m also looking forward to Sunday, my day of rest. I await the spiritual renewal that comes from attending church, the emotional rejuvenation that comes from sunbathing with my mom. Might throw a yoga class in there for a little relaxation, perhaps a nice run. Spend time with the family. Sure, some good tunes will be thrown into the mix, and undoubtedly a little reading too, but I’ll also make time for quietness. And stillness.  

Yes, this is what my Sunday will be made of.

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200

In honor of my 200th blog post….

….I’ll share 200 divided by 2 things I did over the long Easter weekend.

  1. Left the office early, per my boss’ direction.
  2. Listened to a podcast during my commute (my new favorite driving activity).
  3. Kicked my shoes off.
  4. Grinned at the prospect of a 3 day weekend ahead of me.
  5. Received 4 pieces of personal mail in one day. That’s a rarity.
  6. Snacked on wasabi peas.
  7. Rode my bike for the first time this year.
  8. Stopped by Midtown Bikes for a quick tire fill up.
  9. Checked out Central BBQ’s soon-to-be downtown location.
  10. Discovered Martyrs Park.
  11. Admired the view.
  12. Vowed to ride more.
  13. Listened to a Mark Driscoll sermon about the crucifixion.
  14. Talked God.
  15. Made dinner plans with friends for later in the week.
  16. Finished watching Harry Potter: The Prisoner of Azkaban.
  17. Went to sleep early.
  18. Purposely did not set an alarm.
  19. Slept until 8:40am, which is practically unheard of in my world.
  20. Ate breakfast in bed.
  21. Sorted and stowed my winter clothes.
  22. Listened to Ryan Bingham’s Junky Star album.
  23. Followed that up with Wilco’s Sky Blue Sky.
  24. Rediscovered my Vibrams.
  25. Wore them while I spring cleaned.
  26. Ran a couple of miles outside (sans Vibrams).
  27. Smiled at the sunshine.
  28. Completed three loads of laundry.
  29. Folded said laundry.
  30. And even put it away! (It was a productive day.)
  31. Scrubbed the bathtub with a grapefruit. Really.
  32. Painted my toenails.
  33. Went on a date with the man of my dreams.
  34. Cheered the Grizzlies to a sweet victory.
  35. Connected with friends.
  36. Strummed my guitar.
  37. Sang along while my much more talented friend played actual songs on the guitar.
  38. Listened to records.
  39. Practiced yoga with Allison.
  40. Picked up litter on the sidewalk.
  41. Meandered around the Farmer’s Market.
  42. Purchased bright red tomatoes and brown jasmine rice.
  43. Admired the beautiful flower bouquets.
  44. Ate a veggie burrito from the Fuel food truck.
  45. And a couple bites of Jax’s BBQ nachos.
  46. Wished I had more time to listen to Star & Micey’s performance.
  47. Met up with Kim for our scavenger hunt race.
  48. Participated in the Urban Dare.
  49. Dissected and mapped random clues.
  50. Ran to Sun Studio.
  51. And 6.5 miles of the greater downtown area.
  52. Fantasized about cheesecake.
  53. Hit up Trolley Stop Market in desperate need of hydration.
  54. Took a picture in front of the Fire Museum.
  55. And various other downtown establishments.
  56. Completed the Dare in ~2 hours.
  57. Piddled around guiltlessly.
  58. Discovered the most convenient secret parking area at the Levitt Shell.
  59. Watched live music.
  60. Had picnic sandwiches.
  61. Cuddled on a blanket.
  62. Engaged in beautiful conversation.
  63. Sang hymns.
  64. Worshiped my Savior.
  65. Thanked God for this life.
  66. Met up with my favorite lady in Nashville.
  67. Talked my face off.
  68. Discussed life plans.
  69. Ate seared sea scallops.
  70. Celebrated another Grizzlies victory.
  71. Daydreamed about our upcoming vacation to Denver.
  72. Shared recipes.
  73. Caught up with some friends I hadn’t seen in way too long.
  74. Donned my Easter dress.
  75. Attended church.
  76. Passed out hugs to the family.
  77. Absorbed the message.
  78. Shed some tears.
  79. Celebrated Christ’s resurrection.
  80. Made dinner/Grizzlies plans with my fam for Monday.
  81. Wished my Little a Happy Easter.
  82. Visited with Jax’s family.
  83. Feasted on a most delicious lunch.
  84. Followed by delectable dessert.
  85. Considered a second round of dessert but somehow restrained myself.
  86. Hid Easter Eggs for eager children.
  87. Watched sweet kiddies search for Easter Eggs.
  88. Multiple times.
  89. Invited my cousin to go rock climbing next weekend.
  90. Received confirmation that he is down.
  91. Watched the last three holes of the Masters.
  92. Took a brief, comfy snooze.
  93. Woke up as Bubba Watson won the title.
  94. Drank some hot tea in an oversized mug.
  95. Ate a couple pieces of chocolate for dinner.
  96. Watched the 4th Harry Potter movie.
  97. Said my prayers.
  98. Reminisced over what a simple, lovely weekend I had.
  99. Called it a night.
  100. Slept tight. And didn’t let the bed bugs bite.
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