Did You Hear about Jen?

Have you heard about JEN?
Did you click on the links, did you watch the video, did you donate?

If you answered no to any of those, please continue reading...and if you said yes to all three, THANK YOU.  It means a lot to me that you are helping my friend.  Any small amount can help - skip your daily coffee stop, pack a lunch, and redirect those snack machine funds. PLEASE, it's only one small sacrifice for two people who have gone above and beyond to help others.

Here's just a small summary of what Jen has done for OTHERS:

• After Dylan's passing, Jen lovingly donated 2,444 ounces of excess breast milk she had pumped for Dylan to the Indiana Mothers' Milk Bank.  Read the article about this act of love here:
  Jen and Dylan, a Love Story 

• Jen is a master couponer! She has used these skills to create family care packages for families at the Children's Hospital of WI. Read about it here:
  Hip2Save

• Read about the fundraising Devoted to Dylan did in the 2012 March of Dimes March for Babies on page 6 of the March of Dimes WI chapter's newsletter.

Jen did all of this to HELP others, and she continues to help others.

So please, donate, share the link, read about the Dylan and his wonderful parents.
Don't have paypal? No problem, click on this link to see how you can send a check.

To date, we have raised $5,605 in a week!  But we can't stop the momentum, we must keep spreading the word and asking for your spare change.  So please, you're my friend, and I am asking you to help my friend. And believe me, I stalk the Youcaring website to see if one of my friends show up on the supporters list, so please, surprise me.

A Special Request

Back in October, I asked that you to motivate me while running 5K's to help raise money for the March of Dimes in honor of a beautiful boy named Dylan.  I greatly appreciated all those who reached out by promising donations or joined me in my runs.

But I have a special request.  The reason I started running for March of Dimes is due to Dylan and his wonderful parents.  And now I want to focus on specifically helping Dylan's parents, but I need YOUR help.  Please consider donating to their cause.

If nothing else, please read their story and spread the word.  The more the world knows about Dylan's parents, the more we can help them.  Every bit helps, so share the link, but grab some tissues.

http://devoted2jenandpatrick.weebly.com/index.html

 

Mom and Son Adventure

When I booked a flight to see a friend up North, I thought handling a toddler in an airport was no big deal.  By the time I landed at my destination, I thought I would never fly solo with a toddler EVER again.

Aidan wanted to run everywhere, and I tried chasing after him with a stroller full with our coats, his diaper bag, my purse, the Ergo, and shoes I was trying hide.  There was no room in the stroller for a toddler, and he certainly wanted no part of sitting.  I tried entertaining him with lunch, which led me to picking up a perfectly good sandwich and apple off the floor.

On the plane, I tried snacks - Aidan thoroughly enjoyed shoving Ritz crackers into my mouth, and after the third cracker, I decided I had enough with snacks.

Doodle, play Duck Tales intro song, open and close the window, open and close the water bottle top, play with the airplane light, try to touch the air conditioning, and read airplane magazines. Screech, try and kick, hit mom.  Check my watch. Oh wait, I don't wear a watch because I have a phone. So realizing I had no idea when 1.5 hours would be over, I started counting.  Yes, in my head, I was trying to count the seconds, then minutes, and eventually get to an hour. I'm sure there were some happy passengers, especially the lady in front of me...luckily for Aidan, she thought he was cute and understood. 


But much like the first few weeks with a newborn where you swear you'll never have another kid again, I forgot the terror the flight was - it helps that I had a wonderful time with a great friend. Not yet brave enough to book another solo flight, though!

I mean, how can you remember a stressful flight when you can wake up four days in a row to these two?  To watch them interact (and feed off the others' emotions) is amazing and I miss it.  Note to self, latest flight as possible so you can enjoy the morning time when toddlers seem to be the sweetest.

So what do you do with double the trouble in a cold state?  You take them to a lot of indoor play spaces and let them wear themselves out.  If it hadn't been for my visit, I would have never thought to research children's museums - I didn't know they had such great experiences for toddlers.  So thanks, Kim!

But you have to remember to feed these boys, and I couldn't pass up an opportunity to eat at Max Brenner's (Can you say chocolate?!).  On the day we ate at MB's, there were three of us and three toddler boys.  The boys played off each other.  One would start beating the table, the others followed.  Screeching, no problem (Aidan seemed to have the loudest lungs), forks for drum sticks, tossing food, tossing toys, and grabbing for our drinks.  Chaos.  Someone should have recorded it.  While we tried to keep the chaos to a minimum, there were many shared laughs.  Looking back, I think we have sold some of our sanity for energy to keep up with these boys and agree to said lunch date, but I would do it again in a heartbeat.

Never Staying Still for a Picture

What's also amazing about these toddlers is how quickly they pick up the others' behaviors.  For instance, pre Pennsylvania trip, Aidan would not sit still for me to read a book to him and would spit his milk.  Post trip, Aidan brings me books and sits in my lap to read (one sitting was 5 books!) and he has not spit his milk.  However, I have heard Mr. Connor has done some spitting of his own. BUT, I don't know if Aidan is a fault for that behavior.  In addition, it's possible that Aidan and Laith were inspiring to Connor who seemed more intrigued by milk as he watched those boys chug the good stuff.  Oh, Aidan also picked up Laith's storytelling, and Connor began trying to climb more than one stair.  Can you imagine if they had more time together?!  They would probably scheme against us...

We were also fortunate (hahaha) to experience the snow in a Northern state, ya know, where they are prepared for it.  Aidan was able to borrow a real winter jacket because there was no way I would have one, let alone pack it in my suit case.   Aidan hated wearing a hat, but was happy when he held the snow shovel, Lily (the dog) was running around or kissing him, and when going down hill on a toboggan. Why isn't it called a sled...what's the difference?

The flight home, while not as exciting because I was leaving, was less eventful.  In fact, I would classify Aidan as an angel.  The wait, the flight, and the drive home was easy.  Aidan patiently waited in the Ergo while I unloaded our stroller full of stuff.

By the end of the trip, I was ready for another visit, and I completely forgot the misery of the first flight, well until I sat down to write this blog.

But here's what I learned:

• When limited to one carry on, flying during the summer is preferred.  Good gracious, packing real winter clothes sucks - I did bring and wear long johns.
• I packed Aidan way more outfits than myself.  
• Dogs are awesome - when Aidan needed cheering up, Lily to the rescue!
• Barnes and Noble is a great pit stop for restless toddlers
• Two moms and two toddlers are always better than one mom and one toddler - at least you can laugh together
• Baby toys are entertaining because someone the toddlers know the stuff is packed up to be put away, thus it's more fun if you pull it all out.
• I believe my host has a Men in Black type pen that wipe out my memory of any whining, crying or temper tantrums because I honestly don't remember any of this.
• Don't trust toddlers around place mats - water will go every where.
• I want a Cosi's to open near me.  Seriously, good bread.
• I am jealous of the soft, indoor play spaces in the malls up North.  Oh, except the mall in New Jersey where we went to meet another friend!  No notice, and it's closed. Um, what are we suppose to do with three energetic toddlers?  Oh  yes, let them run wild in a crowded mall...not!
• Speaking of New Jersey (and I blocked it out), I was not impressed. Filthy, lots of traffic (on a Sunday!), foul language around a lot of kids, and while I'm not a fashionable person by any means, I'm not quite sure I would jump on the style I saw in the mall.  If I'm suppose to believe Jersey has nice places, someone is going to have to hold my hand, blind fold me, and take me there.
• Be prepared to eat your toddler snacks and share more of your sandwich than you want to.
• They don't do separate (restaurant) checks, which was no big deal splitting amongst friends, but it was weird to me. 
• Columbia and Philadelphia airports were very helpful and kind to me.  It's not easy going through security with a toddler strapped to you and trying to take off boots that have a little heel, but there were plenty of employees willing to help me.  They also said I had the easiest stroller to fold up - City Mini for the win!
• I CAN do this again.

I'm NOT a Blond(e)!

I grew up a blond, I identify with blond hair, and I certainly tried to keep the blond longer than what it wanted to stick around. I get blonde jokes forwarded to me, and I get asked if the blonde is seeping through to my brain...The truth is, I have been not a blond for quite some time, but I refused to give it up.

I had the white blond hair as a kid, but as I grew up, it became the dirty blond, almost like it had natural highlights.  It helped that I was outside a lot! Hello, swim team and lifeguard!  But then I had a real job, and I wore a hard hat, and my hair didn't see the sun quite so much.  Gone were the careless days of hanging out in the sun from early morning until the sun went down, and gone was the natural blond hair.

And so what if blond isn't natural? Or red? Or brown? Or black...be whatever color you want to be, right?  I mean, it's just hair, and it only requires maintenance.  However, that was my issue with being blond - it's high maintenance, or at least it is to me. I mean, I have to remember to go the salon once a month to have the roots touched up! ONCE A MONTH! Not my style, I like every other month at a minimum, so I needed changed. I wanted change, and heck, based on the last personal post, I needed SOMETHING. 

So I went to the salon, and made a bold, on-the-spot decision.  I was going darker, I was getting rid of the blond (and red) and trying to go for something more natural. Although, at this point, it's hard to tell what's natural, but blond wasn't it.  So darker it was...darker than normally necessary in order to cover the red, too.

At the salon, I loved it.  Loved the change, love the solid color, and of course, love the cut and style.  But on Tuesday, I had a minor freak out.  It could be all the "Hey Blondie" comments I received now that I wasn't blond that made me think I rushed into the change.  So I called the stylist, booked an appointment for this Friday, and scoped out my hair every time I was near a mirror.

I love my stylist - I have been going to him for almost 6 years, and he was the first stylist I actually saw on a regular basis - ya know, no Great Clips, Super Cuts, mall salons, etc.  I trust him, and he has always given me great color and/or cuts.  He knows when to be bold with a color or cut, and when to be more conserative.  I have never regretted the work he has done. Never.

By Friday, I was (back) in love with my hair, but I went anyways.  The stylist and I talked, I tipped him in baked goods, and left with the wonderful hair he gave me last week.  No change, and I love it.  So here it is, no more Blondie (but hey, tell that to the guys I work with):

Immune to No

I swear Aidan received a vaccination at his 12 month appointment that eventually gave him immunity to "No."

Gone are the days when we say "No sir", he closes a cabinet, and we say "thank you." Or he steps away from the trash can, or he doesn't throw his food. Not any more. No sirree.

The pediatrician said we have to get creative (at his 15 month appointment) with "no". Huh? Should I use German, Spanish, French? Well, I don't know French...what do you mean, creative? Apparently, Aidan hears "no" too often that he became immune to its meaning, so we have to be more specific. Aidan, we don't spit our milk out. Aidan, we don't play in the trash. Aidan, we don't climb the chairs and rock them. Aidan, don't hit Bo, love Bo. Does he understand me?! Of course, he throws a fit when I take the milk away. He retreats to his toy area when I redirect him away from the trash can or remove him from the chair. He also understands how to pet Bo nicely. He hugs Bo.

We were warned, yup. The pediatrician said we can expect short attention spans, purposeful disobedience, and tantrums. Check, check check. Okay, Aidan, you passed with flying colors, can we move on to something else now?

So please, help me be creative before Aidan starts ignoring my remarks listed above. Here is his record:

Spits milk, especially when the dogs are around. He spits milk and plays with it on the floor while the dogs hurriedly lap it up.
Hits Bo (with a towel, his hand or a toy)
Hits me with his hands
Climbs chairs and rocks them
Throws food
Plays in the trash can - toys go in, trash comes out
Stands in the tub (Sit down doesn't seem to work anymore)

And using the full name doesn't work because he doesn't pay attention until he hears Aidan, and y'all he's Willis Aidan Bowers, so all he hears is AIDAN BOWERS, I don't get the impact of the full name as if he was Aidan Willis.  Oy, who knew using the middle name would bite ME in the butt, I mean, I sortof knew Aidan would eventually have difficulty.

Another issue is we laugh.  We can't help it, but what Aidan does will make us laugh, and we have to leave the room.  So Aidan continues the behavior for attention, and we know we have to hold a straight face, but it's hard.  It's hard when he's being silly, and I would rather laugh at a situation then become aggravated, but I know to help Aidan socially, I have to do something about the behavior...

For now, we'll find the positive in the michevious, attention driven behavior -  Laughter, learning, and loving

But hey, how about I balance out the negative with some positives.

Aidan was 30.2 lb and 34" at his 15 month check up. 95% for height and weight, and 50-75% for head circumference (no idea what the stat is). Aidan has stayed the course since birth - he was in these ranges and has not made an effort to slow down. There are meals where I swear he eats more than me!

He adds to his vocabulary, so we have to be careful with what we say.  We swear he is saying "thank you", "up", "milk" and "BoBo" very well lately. 

His walking is more human like and less zombie.  He runs, he climbs, and he loves playing outside so much.

Stand Up for What You Believe In

There's a country song that goes something like this Stand up for something or fall for anything.

Let's be serious for a moment, no silly Diana.

I've been struggling lately.  Sometimes I cry, sometimes I yell, sometimes I have tons of confidence, and sometimes I wonder what I have gotten myself into.  I am pursuing something that could will affect my entire career because rumors spread and people talk.  Whatever I do, whether right or wrong, people will be different around you.  They'll walk on egg shells, refrain from telling a joke, or not comment your wonderful cowboy boots.  Because they worry, because they whisper when you leave the room...

My mom taught me to stand up for what's right.  She taught me to fight for what's right.  She taught me to stand strong even when you want to cry and break.  I saw and heard nasty remarks because my mom wanted to have a garbage dump removed from the front of a school. Rats, trash, and disrespect - she knew it wasn't appropriate in front of a school - She fought, people were nasty, we received harassing phone calls.  But she fought. She won...and people eventually thanked her.  Same school, and she didn't back down to an abusive principle.  She won, but she also lost along the way.  She lost sleep, she lost an appetite, she probably lost friends.  But she won, and people eventually recognized the wrongdoing. Eventually...

I cry, I hurt, and I fight.  What people have done is wrong and what they are doing is wrong.  If I sit by idle, they win.  They continue to treat people I care about with disrespect, and it's not just THEM, there's more out there.  I have to make sacrifices for my friends, for my future, for those who come after us.  I have to stand up for those who can't.  I have to say you're wrong, and I don't care what you do, I am not going away.

There's a scenario that I play over and over in my head where I get to express my feelings to the offender.  I know I won't get the chance, but I feel by playing the scenario in my head, I will feel justice.  

I wait.  I wait for the outcome.  I imagine the day I find out, the excitement, the victory, and I realize I am too excited, too optimistic.  What if THEY win? What if I made this up in my head? Then I am the fool, and I lose.  I lose confidence, I lose pride, and I lose respect.

But let's be optimistic.  Let's think about a positive outcome.  I hope I can make someone else what I was discriminated against.  Oh, the ironry, I wish for the irony.  But again, high hopes.  High hopes for justice.

Some think I am strong, I am confident, and I am a badass (sorry for the explicit language, but this is what I have heard).  But in truth, I avoid situations where I meet who I accuse. I can't eat lunch at the local cafeteria because I am afraid...afraid of who I will run into - what will they say...will I run the other way...will I speak up, will I embarass myself.  What will I do?  I'm not brave, I'm a coward.  I hope to stand behind someone, I hope to speak through someone, I hope to never encounter these people agian. And if I do, I will divert, divert, divert. 

So if you know me, please send your strength.  This fight isn't easy.  I must stand up for what's right, but consqeunces exist. I'm distraught, I'm crying, and I'm questioning myself.  But I must remember, Stand up for something, or you'll fall for anyting.

Building the Dream

Back in college, I remember day dreaming about my future and wanting a house out in the country with a long driveway shaped by beautiful hard wood trees.  I never had a vision of the house or the property, but a few years back, AJ and I came across some land out in the country with a creek running through it.  Perfect (except for the silly pine trees).  Oh wait, now we're tree farmers, okay, pine trees you're not so bad.  So for several years, AJ has harvested pine trees, leveled and plowed the land, and planted various fields for hunting.  Nothing profitable, but tree farming takes a while.  
 

So we're technically farmers...I mean we do own a tractor with various farming accessories.  We have waders, snake boots, pick up trucks...but AJ wants more.  He talked about COWS and CHICKENS.  What?! I'm not that kind of farmer.  Pine trees, pine straw, okay.  Animals...besides the dogs, oh no, what did I sign up for?  But that's all in the future.  First we have to live on the land and not 20 minutes away.  Then AJ will build a barn for the tractor and other farming equipment.  Oh, and the tree farming needs to become profitable so we can buy more land.  So it appears I have time to accept that one day, I might be woken up by a rooster or step in cow droppings.  However, I am getting ahead of myself.
 

Where are we at with our dream?

• Well, we have house plans.
• We have builders bidding.
• We have a loan preapproval status pending.
• We are in the process of refinancing our current home.
• We know our budget and where we have to give if we want more home.
• We have samples sitting on the dining.
• We have catalogs stacking up in the office.
• We have a closet design (*ahem*, AJ doesn't know this, but I have designed the closet layout)
• We have two spots staked out for a home site.  Where we place the home is dependent upon DHEC and possibly the county.  You see, a creek is part of the state's waters, so there are restrictions on how close you can build and where your septic tank can sit.
• I have many things pinned for ideas.
• I have appliances picked out, or at least the minimum requirements.
• I have made it known that the kitchen is mine to design.  Sure, AJ has veto powers, but when he started flipping through MY catalog making comments, I snatched it up and said that's not what I want...ya know, very lovingly.  There will be many decisions I do not care to weigh in on, but the kitchen is mine.  I've marked my territory.  

So the plan is to start building in February with a duration of 7 months.  

In the mean time, I day dream of walking my dogs leash free over the 26 acres, AJ knocking down silly pine trees to weave nature trails through the hardwoods, and building a bridge (I design) over the creek.  All in the future, but hey, dreamers need ideas in order to reach their goals, right?  I mean, we will have a nice long drive way, but we will need trees, and then there's a grassy opening where a small water fountain structure would be perfect, and then at some point, the drive will split off to go to the house (so I need a woodsy sign to point our guests) and to the creek.  I can envision all of this, but for now, I'll go scour the catalogs to perfect my kitchen.

Communicating with a Toddler

I have to remind myself to watch what I say or how I say something because Aidan is a sponge waiting to repeat something I did or said.  He says many words, some with intent.

Earlier this week, Aidan and I arrived home and as usual, he ran to the back door once we were inside to greet the dogs.  It was a colder day so I did not think we would play outside, but Aidan had other plans.  He banged on the door and said "eeeee, eeeee".  Hmm, not sure what "eeee" means, but we went outside, and he went straight for the swing, banged it, and said "eeeee".  Sure enough, Aidan was repeating "weee, weeee" which is what I say when I am swinging him.  So he has learned to associate "weee" with the swing.

AJ has repeatedly called a cracker a cookie when speaking to Aidan.  No idea why, but he does.  I was surprised earlier last week when Aidan came up to me when I was opening a packet of Ritz, and he clearly said "cooKIE".  It was cute and sweet, but of course, it took several days and many attempts to actually record him saying "cookie."

I know, toddler language can be difficult to understand.  You have to tune your ears into what they're saying and also try to understand the context of their language.  But hopefully you can hear Aidan asking for a cookie.  He loves Ritz crackers, and he has to have one for each hand.  Though most of the time, he feeds the crackers to the dogs, but he does take a few bites.

So at 14 months, this is what Aidan says

• dogdog or doggy
• dada
• momEE
• Bye Bye
• Hey (when he grabs his toy cell phone or my cell phone)
• Abby (baby at daycare, but apparently all babies)
• Baby (will point at pictures of himself and say baby...or randomly call me baby)
• Night night (more like nah nah)
• Cookie (cracker)
• dis (this/that and points to something)
• Ut oh (probably his favorite phrase)
• Bah (ball)

Sometimes,  it sounds like he is trying to repeat "thank you" but it typically associated with Aidan giving us a ball, so we are trying to focus on one thing or another.  We think "yellow ball, thank you" might be too much at once.  I'm sure one day, when he decides he wants to thank us, he'll repeat what he has heard.

I am actually surprised he doesn't attempt to say "no" since we do say "no sir" a lot.

With all the repeating and sponge like absorbency of what we do, you would think I could easily teach Aidan to say or mimic the touch down hands, but he has refused to cooperate.  Sometimes his hands randomly go up, but most of the time, if I say "touchdown!" he claps...like he did at the Clemson game.  One day...

But as we have learned, Aidan will do what Aidan wants when he wants.  He rolled over when he wanted to, he crawled when rolling was no longer the best method, and he walked when he realized he could get places faster.  I'm sure when he's frustrated with us not realizing what he wants, he will learn more of what to say.  I know, many people teach their kids sign language, but we have not opted, read: made time, for baby sign language.  Oh well, we'll all continue to learn and Aidan will continue to evolve.  Can't wait for his next word...unless it's "no." :)

Please Motivate Me

When I say please motivate me, I really mean please sponsor me.  You see, since I ran my first 5K, I want to run many more 5K's.  After one 5K, I am addicted, and while I could run at my local track for free, it's not the same.  The 5K's have charities associated with them that use the race as a way to raise money and awareness.  The 5K's have trails and paths that are more challenging, and the people watching is fun while running.

It's not that I can't afford the entry fees to the 5K's, or even that I can't afford good shoes or new orthotics or the travel costs.  No, none of that is what I am seeking sponsorship for.  If you read about my inspiration for my first 5K, you know I run for Dylan.  My goals when running 5K's are telling Dylan's story and raising awareness for the March of Dimes.  So I want you to sponsor me - commit $ XX per every 5K I run, and when the March of Dimes fundraising for 2013 comes around, donate that committment to the March of Dimes Team, Devoted to Dylan.

Want to make it interesting?  Have graduated commitments based on the number of 5K's I run, the completion time, if I run the whole race.  Or get creative and dare me to wear a turkey on my head for the Turkey Trot runs or dress like an elf for a Jingle Bell run!  But please, motivate me to run faster, run more 5K's, and raise awareness for babies!  I will consider all commitments, so please, email me at dianajbowers@gmail.com or post a comment here.  I will happily make a spreadsheet to track the commitments and where I stand in completing those commitments.  You know I love a good excel spreadsheet, so please, help me. :)

I'll give you the excerpt on a letter I am sending in to help the March of Dimes receive it's own custard flavor at a local custard shop in Milwaukee, Wisconsin where the family of Dylan reside.

I am a member/supporter of a local March of Dimes family team, Devoted to Dylan.  I joined/supported the team because I am inspired by the strength and love Patrick and Jen radiate.  Hearing about Dylan motivates me every day to be a better member of society, a more patient wife, and a more loving mother who always remembers that not everyone gets to experience the highs and lows of parenthood.  Before hearing their story, I did not have a charity of choice; I supported several, but never became very involved.  Patrick and Jen have motivated me to spread the word about Dylan and the March of Dimes.  I live hundreds of miles from them, but that will not stop me from telling their story, promoting March of Dimes, and encouraging others to join me in the fundraising effort. In my growing story about Dylan, I would love to tell people about a local, custard shop that supported a member of its community by creating a flavor to commemorate the March of Dimes.  The Devoted to Dylan March of Dimes team 2012 fundraising efforts made them not only #1 in Milwaukee, but also #1 in Wisconsin and #9 in the country! 

Before I end my plea for sponsorship, here are two exceptions to any challenges:

1. My shirt - I have Devoted to Dylan shirts, and I will always wear these when I run, so nothing can cover my shirt.

2. My face - I have a plan for what I will wear on my face to also show support to the Devoted to Dylan March of Dimes team, so no facial challenges.  

So, Bring it On! please!

 

Inspired to Run - The First 5K

The last time I ran a race in a large event, I was in elementary school.  I know I was running somewhere near downtown Columbia, and while I was in the lead for my age group, I didn't reserve enough energy to maintain my position.  Part of the problem was I decided to break in new shoes on the race day because I wanted nice, white shoes on race day.  Big mistake.

I see a podiatrist regularly for feet issues, and they prescribe me prescription orthotics to keep me walking and running pigeon toed since the way I walk was not corrected, thus my ligaments grew in a pattern to how I walked.  When I tried to force my feet outward, I experience pain in my knees, hips and back.  So by no means, did I want to run for the heck of it.

However, after walking for the March of Dimes in April and also walking 4+ miles almost daily during my pregnancy, I assumed my body could handle running.  But I wasn't motivated to run just cause. No, a very special boy named Dylan that inspired me to walk in the March of Dimes has motivated me to run.  Sure, the charities that I will run for won't be the MOD, but I will wear a shirting honoring Dylan, and everyone behind me will see his name.  I will make sure that there are people behind me to see his name.  In fact, my first 5K, I heard people talking that it was a great idea (my shirt) and asked where I had it made. Thank you, thank you for reading my shirt.

So on to my first 5K - The run was called Color Me Rad and I heard about it from a college friend.  Since she already had a team, I started my own called The Palmetto Ladies. I know, originality was lacking, but whatever, it worked.  I tried to recruit many, but I heard a lot more excuses than yes's. So be it.  Anyway, two of my sister's friends and my sister in law bravely joined me.  I believe this was the first 5K for 3 of us, with my sister in law completing others some years back.  I was excited that they joined me.

The night before the race, courtesy of my mom, my sister in law and I stayed in a hotel in Columbia, SC while the other two memebers stayed at a friend's house in Columbia.  I set an alarm for 6:25 AM since I am a chronic snoozer, while SIL set an alarm for 6:45 AM; we went to bed at 9:30 PM.  I peeled my butt out of bed at 6:35 am and began getting ready.  I was quietly going about my business, when I had the need to flush the toilet....the flush was probably heard on the first floor along with my jumping.  The toilet was so dang loud and unexpected that I woke my SIL before her alarm clock.  No big deal.  I ate a banana, proceeded to get dressed, and then waited on my SIL to finish her oatmeal.

We left around 7:10 AM when the temperature was approximately 47 degrees Fahrenheit.  We drove 15 minutes to downtown Columbia with the heat blasting to warm us up.  After easily finding parking, we jumped out the truck, debated on carrying water bottles, and took before pictures.  We were in shorts and t-shirts, though I opted for a long sleeve tee compared to SIL's short sleeve. Silly right wrist needed to be kept "warm".

We walked to the Colonial Center to the starting line and looked for our other teammates, which we never did find.  SIL and I quickly found our place at the starting line and waited until 8AM.  The temperature was supposedly 50 degrees Fahrenheit and very tolerable.  SIL and I tried to read a guy's watch for the time, but he talks with his hand, and while we tried to creep on his wrist, he kept moving it.  Good thing he never turned and looked at us, otherwise, he would see us staring at his arm like crazy!

Finally, the race began, and we climbed the first hill, passing the slow runners and walkers.  We ran and talked and wondered when the first color station would occur.  We decided we could run slow through the color station to ensure we were properly coated.  We ran through the first station, I was coated in color, but SIL looked like she skipped the entire event!  So at the next color station, SIL was bound and determined to be painted whatever color it was, but again, she came out practically clean!  Her frustration reminded me of Ross off of Friends trying to get an even spray tan.  He counts incorrectly, and gets too much tan on one side, then goes back and screws up again.

So on the third color, SIL and I switch sides, slow down the pace, and she gets color bombed. Too much, in fact, the lovely sunglasses they gave us did not help her poor eyes.  The dust when into her left eye, but being a trooper, she kept on running.  From this station on, Amanda did not have to worry about not being hit with color.  In fact, I wish I made her my body guard for color.  At one station, the guy did not realize I am short, so instead of hitting me in the chest he gave me a great dose of green right inside of my ear.  Greeeeat, now I can have greenish ear wax.  Black heads...pshhhh, green heads.  Anyway, we were making great time and never slowed our running pace, but then we hit a strenuous hill.

Two things kept me going during this 5K - SIL's pace and Dylan.  I did not want to let either one of them down by running. Make no mistake, I ran 3.12 miles at a local track without stopping.  In fact, I had my time down to 26 minutes, and I assumed that Columbia was relatively flat....because it is.  However, the race officials found the most daunting hills possible.  On the last hill, which looked straight to the sky, I had to dig deep for inspiration.  No, SIL was not going to walk, neither was I.  So while I had the push from Dylan to keep running up the hill, I had to resort to a reward.  So as I am running  up this hill and passing others with my SIL, I am shouting HOT FRESH NOW! KRISPY KREME DONUTS!  Yes, I was screaming about donuts, and yes, SIL and I made it up the hill by running.  Unfortunately, after I made it up the hill, the pain shooting from my wrist to my shoulder told me I should walk.  So for approximately 1/10th of a mile, I walked, flex my hand, and stretched my arm.  The routine helped my wrist, and I was quickly back to running.  The rest of the race was down hill, and SIL and I handled it easily.  We crossed the finish line, grabbed our color bombs, and celebrated.

After chugging water, we had our picture taken then hurried to the truck.  I had spare clothes, so I quickly changed in the parking garage while SIL tried to knock off the loose color in order to keep my truck clean.  We took our after photos and then left to go back to the hotel.  After a 5K, we felt we deserved some hearty food at the hotel.  We had plenty of stares, but we just smiled and told people what we did.  Most were just waking up, so we felt pretty accomplished running a 5K and being back at the hotel while others were just moving around.  After breakfast, we took turns scrubbing ourselves in the shower and blowing blue snot.  It's amazing the colors you see when you sneeze.

SIL and I parted ways, but were so excited that we already committed to running the Color Me Rad next year.  However, in the meantime, we are searching for other races.  We found a Turkey Trot in Greenville, SC that supports Leukemia research which is very near and dear to SIL, literally.  In addition, I have an Uncle fighting a two year battle with the monster so why not help the cause?  In addition, we found a Jingle Bell 5K in Greenville, which means we should dress up Christmasy like....why not have fun and run for a good cause?

In the end, I can only thank Dylan for his inspiration that he and his parents have provided.  Without them, I wouldn't be addicted and wanting to help all these causes all while making sure more people know Dylan and his story.  No matter what I run, I will always wear my Dylan shirt, and in fact, am looking for more ways to show my support to the March of Dimes and Dylan.  So if you see me asking for 5K participants, don't hesitate to join me.  Whether you walk or run, you can help support many people and help me in honoring a very special boy.