5K Training and so on. . .

OK, I know I haven't kept up with posting about my training, but that doesn't mean I've given up on the training. It's just that our lives are busy, busy, busy now and so I don't always have the time to say what I want to say. To make a long post shorter, two weeks ago I ran 3 days for 45 minutes and walked about 15 and in between those days, I walked with my daughter for about an hour.

Then last week, I upped the running to 50 minutes and then walked for the last 10. And then I walked a day or two with Anna-Kate--again for about an hour each time (I think.) So, I've been doing about 4 miles consistently and I'm feeling pretty good. I have more energy. I wish I could say I've lost 25 pounds in this whole process, but alas, I have only lost about 3. So I press on.

But I have something better I wanted to share. Marian has been posting some poems that our kids have been writing for school. Well Austin wrote a humdinger of a poem today and I just had to let ya'll have a peek. He's brilliant and funny. So here ya go:

In the forest, there are trees of green
some are broad and some are lean.

It is really spooky in the dark
I flinched to the sound of my dog's bark.

I wondered what was behind that tree.
It was really scaring me.

I didn't know what to do.
I felt the tension as it grew.

I knew something was there.
I began to wet my underwear.

I heard twigs begin to break.
I yelled, "Sick 'em!" to my dog, Jake.

I saw my dog run toward the trees.
I tried to stop my shaking knees.

I heard someone let out a scream.
I began to wish this whole thing was a dream.

I saw someone as he ran.
I noticed I held a can.

I threw it with all my might.
I hit him on the back of the head just right.

As I saw that man fall,
I noticed he was quite tall.

Then all of the sudden I became quite sad
because I realized I just hit my dad.

So then Austin read his poem to his dad and his dad had this to say, "Three things: first of all, you don't have a dog named Jake. Secondly, if you threw a can at me, you would probably miss. Thirdly, if you hit me in the back of the head, I wouldn't fall down." And then he said, "You forgot the last part of your poem. It should read, 'After my dad awoke, soon I noticed my nose was broke.'"

Oh, I love my family.