The house is clean (except for my bedroom, which I never seem to get to, but according to Oprah, it’s supposed to be my sanctuary, but she has a cleaning crew, and her own designer, and really nice stuff, and more money than God, so I’m not going to listen to her), the kid’s are in bed, and I’m blogging with my feet up and a glass of wine by my side…life is good.

The half marathon is this weekend so the kids are headed to Sandusky tomorrow. Heidi and David are staying with us on Saturday, and with four people trying to get ready for a race that starts at 7, our house is going to be jumping before the sun even thinks about punching in for the day. Kade and Liv would never be able to sleep through our nervous, pre-race rituals, and they really wouldn’t want to sit outside in the cold waiting for me to flash by them as I desperately try to reach my goal, so they are going to have a fun-filled weekend with their grandparents. Kyle is excited because he actually gets to be my paparrazo for the day, which makes me feel so fabulous (and self-conscious). We get to go out on Friday night, spend some time together on Saturday, and hang out downtown after the race….so it seems as if this weekend is going to rock (let’s just hope no one starts puking between now and Friday afternoon).

I set my Garmin to alert me if my pace goes above 9:00 miles, and it scared the shit out of me this morning when I took off to run. Those alarms are annoying and loud, so I’m going to do my best on Sunday to keep them from going off. I’m shooting for keeping an 8:20 pace, actually I have to in order to finish in 1:50:59. It makes me nervous to even type it. It won’t matter how fast I run if my sugars are all out of whack, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the diabetic fairy waves her magic wand and all is in control on Sunday.

It’s hard to believe that a year ago I was preparing for the same event. A lot can happen in 365 days…