1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Here's a self portrait for my sister, Rebecca who asked for a picture of the new haircut. This is on a day where I just let it dry on its own to see what would happen. I don't know, Rebecca, but the older we get, the more we seem to look alike when we smile for self portraits - at least to me. When I first saw this shot, I thought that I was hoisting a beer up to the camera but it turns out that it's just the phone in the background.

And while we're at it, here's another new hairdo. Hannah was the stylist and Joseph was completely unaware.

And, what could this be about? The rest of the family is dining out on trans fats while Mommy sat off to the side with a nervous tummy and a computer chip tied to the laces of her shoes...

And there she is waiting for the start of the 10K. Note the Miraculous Medal around her neck - grace for running.

Shameless promotion of the Running Room or a shot of the computer chip? You decide.

A good shot of the new blue cast. I noticed that our deacon blessed it at Mass today: our deacon is also a doctor who once won Family Physician of the Year. I imagine that his eye is easily distracted by blue casts and other signs of injury.

OK, this shot is a total pose as it was taken on Sunday morning and I ran the race on Saturday night. But, Dave had to juggle all four kids in the downtown surrounded by 9000 + runners, spectators and supporters. Not to mention that Joe had napped for a whopping 40 minutes in the van and by the time that I approached the finishing line, Joe was also nearing the end of his race. Thus, Dave was somehow unable to manoeuvre the camera out of the backpack and into capturing-mommy-in-motion position. So, I put on my running gear again this morning and posed. By the way, I was too lazy to throw on socks for the picture - I am not one of those runners who runs without foot protection. Also, note the black mark just below my running number. As part of pre-registration, you can choose to have your name written on the race number so that people can cheer you on by name.

Well, here's a secret: I didn't register for the race - a man named Bill did. But, Bill couldn't run on account of heel spurs; so last Monday, after my first longer run of the season, his daughter asked me if I wanted his race kit. For some odd reason I took her up on the offer. Therefore, my race number said Bill. Dave told me to relax because no one would notice. However, my eyes seemed inextricably drawn to everybody else's names and I hadn't yet found a man or woman with a name of the opposite sex on their bib. So, at Wendy's I asked for a marker and the cashier gave me a red one. I crossed out Bill and Dave told me that I had effectively highlighted my "name". Hmmmm.

Dave, the kids and I parted ways and I walked to the race start trying to shield my moniker. No word of a lie: I began to wonder if people might suspect me of running for transgendered rights so I accosted a man and woman at their car and asked for a pen. Turns out she had the biggest perma-black marker that I had ever seen and she even did the crossing out for me. I thanked her and she replied, "No problem, Bill." I am not joking.
I made it over to the starting corral which was so packed with people that it could have easily induced a panic attack and waited for the start. As I stood in this haze of humanity, I noticed that almost every woman around me had some sort of tattoo. The best by far was a young woman in front of me who had a bar of music with a treble clef marked on the back of her neck. The exceptional nature of this tattoo was that the treble clef was backward: I even traced one in the air to be sure. I wonder is she knew; or had she thanked her tattoo artist and walked confidently out of the ink shop after viewing her tattoo in the MIRROR? Poor girl.

Anyway, the last time I ran this race was 4 years ago when I had only two children. I told myself that this run better be an improvement on the last in which I had stopped several times. After all, I had now successfully delivered two more children without the aid of drugs so I had better be able to run 10 K without stopping. I did it. I sure had times when I wanted to stop, but a combination of three Rosaries, one chaplet of Divine Mercy and Dave's voice in my head got me through. I think that my Guardian Angel also played an integral role. The kicker was Dave and the kids camped out at the 9 km mark yelling, "Go, Elena!" That was enough to put some spring into my step and I crossed the finish line in ...

OK, wait, I am slow and my goal was to stick with the 65 minute pace bunny which I did for most of the race. At times, I was actually ahead of my bunny but something happened at the 7 km mark. Something is a combination of a water station, a bunny that didn't stop for said water, a traffic jam caused by 9000 runners (it is impossible to politely pass a person plugged into an IPod or run through someone who stops dead in your path) and legs that were desperately trying to tell me that the last time they had run 10 K was, well, 4 years ago. Hey lady, what exactly do you think you're doing to us?

So, I made it across in 68 minutes which could be a recipe for disappointment but I'm not. I am actually very happy and motivated for more. The kids were victorious in my finisher's medal. They had hoped for the $100,000 pot that would have come our way if I had broken the course record. No joke, they really thought that I would win the whole thing! What faith they have in their mother. But, we all went home happy, if not tired, and ready for more. Life sure is fun.