memories

As I’ve gotten older, so many things have left a huge impact in my life.  Family, college, work, marriage, friends….  I was thinking back how my hobbies and activities and lifestyles have came and gone.  I tend to have favorite activities depending on which phase of my life I’m in and what resources are available.  

But the one activity that has been a constant in my life and became a huge part of who I am— is running.  (well, except for that year in college when i was in physical therapy for severe shin splints and couldn’t run. shockwave therapy….aaaagh!) What started as little 8 year old me wanting to be like my mom— signing up for fun runs while she ran her races— turned into a competitive school sport and now an ongoing passion for me.  

While going through some boxes getting ready to move, I came across my box full of running treasures. Medals, bib numbers, t-shirts, course maps, random stuff that I hold on to for sentimental reasons.  All of my old junior high & high school cross country and track medals are back home at my parents house, except for one.  My senior year of high school state cross country medal.  I keep that one with me wherever I go.

Such fond memories.  I loved loved loved cross country.  Loved the adrenaline, running on grass, through the mud, over the hills, the team unity. I loved our coach.  Most of all, I loved my teammates.  While some people thought we were crazy for running long distances, we had so much fun together.  I could write a book about our adventures.  I miss them all.  And I miss being able to run a sub-13:00 two mile pace

1999 Kansas 4A High School XC Championship

SHS senior girls

(Just be thankful my cross country scrapbooks are back in Kansas, otherwise I’d go overboard with the pictures.)

I was planning on posting a ‘flashback’ every Monday, but Monday has passed, so today has become Flashback Tuesday.

With this past weekend being Halloween, I thought back to recent years and decided to get out some old photos of my costume couture. I’ve never been one to take the easy route and buy a pre-fabricated costume, preferring instead to use cloth scraps, tablecloths, safety pins…whatever I can find around the house. 

Katie the Ladybug – senior year of high school. my wings has strings with bells so I could ‘flit’ about.

Belly Dancer – freshman year at K-State. the last year I was able to wear a stomach-bearing costume….oh, college, so bad for my waistline.

Statue of Liberty – my mom was the star seamstress behind this masterpiece. that’s right, I was 21 and I had my mom make my costume  it has been my favorite costume ever.  I made the torch from a squirt bottle.  

Pirate – with my fellow Collegian ad designers. (and cute Mindy - can’t believe they have their own little son to dress up now!)  love y’all. 

Magic 8 Ball – easiest and warmest costume ever. I predicted peoples’ futures when they shook me. 

More on this year’s Halloween festivities in my next post.

As I was running by the UW football stadium on Saturday morning, the air was permeated with the smells of bacon and the enthusiastic cheers and laughs of college students who sacrificed sleep for tailgating time.

It made me nostalgic for my days of college football tailgating. While I don’t miss it so much that I want to be out drinking beer and eating burgers with them, it did make me remember all the great memories I made with friends and fellow Wildcat fans during my 4.5 years at K-State. Tailgating was an important part of my college days– behavior I’ll never go back to– but something I have such fond memories of.

I especially recalled the morning several of us woke up at 4:30 am (unheard of for normal college students) to walk to the stadium and wait for an hour behind the barricades……sprint to the stadium gates…..stampede down the stairs to get prime spots….and then wait another 2 or 3 hours for the live broadcast of ESPN’s College Gameday from Manhattan, KS to begin. (yeah, this was back when our team was ranked in the Top 10…not so much the case in recent years)

I’m pretty sure my friends and I never got on tv, but who cares? We were part of a faithful following of crazy fans who devoted our Saturdays to supporting our team.

I went back through my photo albums for some good memories.

Tailgating before the 2000 Big 12 Championship vs. OU.

I was a cheerleader at heart. But I was too tall and about 30 pounds too heavy to make the real squad.

Junior year tailgating with girlfriends.

With my brother in his notorious I Eta Pi gameday apparel.

Hard to believe some of those were 8 years ago.

Eat ‘em up, beat ‘em up, K-S-U!

I have recently become a huge fan of this website. Can’t remember how I discovered it, but it’s a slight addiction right now.

Kitten War

Even if you don’t like kittens so much (*cough* jamie), you have to admit this is pretty cute. I do feel bad having to make one of the kittens a ‘loser’, but like the site states “all our kittens are winners really…”.

I even submitted a picture of our beloved Miles McCool (may he rest in peace), but either it’s still pending approval or the judges have decided he isn’t ‘kitten’ enough.

After all, he was maybe 12 (he never would reveal his real age to us) when the picture was taken, so that would qualify him more for the ElderlyCats War if they had a website for that.

He’s still a winner in my heart. Look at that ornery face. Even in his last days he was a playful, happy dude.

Vote for Miles McCool in 2008!
[That's the most political you'll ever hear me be]

If there’s one thing I never understood about my husband (hmmm…still feels a little weird calling him that), it is his odd eating preferences. Or, mostly his dislikes. Seafood, tomatoes, mushrooms, feta cheese, etc….and STRAWBERRIES!??!

*GASP!*

I’m the strawberry girl, after all! My birth announcements were strawberries that said ‘its strawberry season and we picked a sweet one’.

awwwwwww…..how cute is that?

They’ve always been my #1 favorite food, and to find out recently that he’s “not too fond of strawberries” was a major shock to my system and everything I’ve ever believed. God really led me to marry this man??

But learning his eating habits, I’ve realized how fortunate I was growing up.

My grandpa and dad would take us fishing and we’d clean and fry up that day’s catch. Catching a fish with caviar (not the fancy expensive type, mind you, this was pond fish) was a special treat and my brother and I would fight over the little yellow egg packets. My grandparents were all farmers and gardeners so fresh veggies and fruits were what we ate on a daily basis. We prepped for the winters by canning and freezing the summer’s produce.

At the time, I thought it was such a pain to have to pick the corn, shuck the corn, clean the corn, cook the corn, can the corn, freeze the corn….now I miss that.

My mom always did such a great job of fixing meals with a wide variety of ingredients and flavors, giving us a varied, well developed flavor palate. Plus, if I didn’t eat my food, my brother would scarf it down and there was no peanut butter and jelly sandwich waiting for me instead.

Back to my original point….my seafood disliking husband. This has been an ongoing struggle for me since we’ve lived in the same city and I’ve been cooking for us. We are blessed to live in one of the best places to get fresh seafood in the world. Even so, we don’t frequent many seafood restaurants, except on special occasions or when friends/family come to town.

I make this sacrifice in hopes that some day he’ll realize he loves seafood. I leave my sushi eating to going out with friends. Besides, I can find some decent seafood in restaurants where he can have his chicken and beef. It’s not always so easy the other way around.

I’ve been limited on what I cook for dinners. No tomato based products either (this is equally as difficult….i LOVE my parents’ garden grow cherry tomatoes, those things are like candy to me).

Well yesterday I didn’t feel like having chicken again. Didn’t want to walk to the grocery store in the rain. But I did have some frozen Tilapia I’d picked up at Trader Joe’s awhile back. I’d mostly intended to save it for when we’re not able to eat dinner together, then I’d make it for myself.

Should I make fish? This was my dilemma for awhile and when he called me, I tiptoed around how to tell him I was thinking of making fish for dinner.

“I’m wondering if you…”
“What if I make, um…”

Oh for goodness sakes, he’s your husband, he can eat it or make his own food!

“Is it okay if I make fish for dinner tonight?”

“Yeah hun, that sounds good.”

What a sweetheart I love him.

I made fish. It was delicious. And he even said he liked it.

There’s a bright glimmer of hope even in the darkest places….

This post is hard to write while I sit at work, but I don’t want to wait, lest I end up not blogging at all. While the title could be interpreted as my 10 day absence from running, that’s not the ‘miles’ i’m writing about.

This is:

Miles McCool Harris.

Todd adopted Miles from a rescue shelter about 4 years ago. They were constant companions, and when Todd decided to make the big leap and move to Seattle, Miles went along too. I first met Miles via ichat when Todd and I started dating long distance. We would wave at each other, and then he’d dart off into his favorite paper bag like a bolt of lightning. We finally met feet-to-whiskers 2 years ago and I like to think that he immediately took a liking to me. (perhaps he just was glad to have a female around)

I knew how much Miles meant to Todd, so when I eventually moved to Seattle and spent a couple of unemployed months staying with them, I learned to put aside my dislike of cat hair everywhere and the occasional vomit cleanup. They welcomed me with open arms (and paws) and we became a family. Miles and I spent every day together. He’d welcome me home from a run and lick the salty sweat off my forehead. He gladly helped me job search, perching on my shoulder like a parrot.

And he even did pilates with me…he liked it so much that he felt the need to use my mat as his own mat/bed/scratch pad. I knew we’d be buddies for life when I woke up in the middle of the night and found him sitting on my chest, watching me sleep. It became a comforting nightly ritual.

This past December, Miles started showing signs of sickness and the vet diagnosed him with kidney failure and feline AIDS. And to our surprise, apparently he was much older than we’d thought. For the past six months, Miles was on a strict kidney food diet, several medications, and we (eventually just Todd) gave him a subcutaneous electrolyte drip several times a week.

Despite these setbacks, his health seemed to improve and he was living out his ninth life to the fullest. This cat had more toys and blankets than I have shoes and purses. He had full run of the apartment.

But it’s so quiet there now.

Yesterday, we took Miles to the vet, knowing that we wouldn’t be bringing him back home. I’ve never had to watch a family pet put to sleep. Growing up, our pets got ran over by tractors, trucks, disappeared into the night or ran off to another farm. Yesterday was just plain awful. You try telling yourself its for the best, don’t be selfish and keep him around if he’s in pain. We did the right thing. But it’s hard.

No more Miles sitting on the window sill staring out at the Space Needle. No Miles to come greet us when we walk in the door, with his meowing that seemed to say “i’ve missed you, i’m so glad you’re here, pet me.” No Miles to sit on my face while I sleep at night, or sprawl out on my legs as if they’re his own territory. No Miles to whisper secrets into my ears or hold a semi-intelligent conversation with (believe me, he could talk). No Miles to tear around the apartment at the speed of light. No more games of hide-n-seek. No Miles to get his head stuck in a water glass and make a sloppy mess.

It’s cleaner in the apartment now. But I don’t like it one bit.

I miss Miles.

the day is finally here!!! everything i own is in a box to the left….to the left..to the left….

the U-Haul is all packed. i’ve said my goodbyes. i’ve cried some tears (only thanks to the U-Haul company’s poor reservation system). and we are westward bound early in the morning, after breakfast with my parents and brother. i still don’t think it’s hit me yet, and i forecast that somewhere between Sioux Falls and Rapid City, i’ll become a soppy mess of waterworks.

i’ll do my best to post updates, but who knows where we’ll stay. perhaps the back of the truck. just move a couple boxes and crash on the couches.

farewell KC, you’ve been good to me. oh, so good. no need to fear, i will not forget you and the good times and great friends you’ve given me.