The Dresser- a noun AND a verb!

If you know her, have seen her, or just know OF her, then you know Ella just LOVES to dress up. Constantly. And not in the sparkly-fluffy-princess-meet-barbie type of way...more in a bathing-suit-pajamas-cape-and-helmet kind of way. Okay, so she's very unique in her fashion sense. I guess the point is that she doesn't need a designated costume to express her creativity.

In most circumstances I consider this a good thing. Four kids ago it might have stressed me out knowing that a trip to the store would engage stares and curious smiles from strangers at her peculiar get-ups. But now I'm so used to it, that it doesn't even occur to me to offer an explanation about that day's outfit (or, more accurately, that moment's outfit), unless the person asks about it. Expect for maybe the "gas mask" that people thought she donned at school pick-up the other day--it's a "firefighter mask" and has NOTHING to do with current world events. Come on, people, she's TWO.

She has a thing for bathing suits...and hats...

and goggles...

Ella sporting her "duck feet" as she calls them (yes, those are gloves on her feet).

Here she was channeling "Andy" from Toy Story as she held Woody and "skated" away on her "skateboard" (who knew there were multiple uses for a xylophone?)

The down side? Her ongoing wardrobe changes (we're talking 8-10 times a day) mean that there are clothes....E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E...while her dresser sits empty. No matter how picked up her room is before quiet/nap time, it is inevitably turned upside down and inside out by the end of it.

Before quiet/nap time...

...and after...

I've given up folding her clothes, sorting them and neatly putting them in the drawers. I've given up doing multiple loads of laundry daily because I don't know what's clean and what's not. I've given up trying to pick out her clothes and encouraging her to dress in "cute" outfits (or even "girl" outfits, for that matter). It's a never-ending battle that, quite frankly, I'm too tired to fight. It didn't take me long to realize that dressing up is THAT important to her...and staying sane is THAT important to me. And the kicker is that at the end of the day, her absolute FAVORITE thing to wear is...you guessed...her birthday suit! Perhaps she would be better nicknamed the UNdresser.

The Hills are Alive With the Sound of...

Runners. Thousands of them. There were occasional cheers, clapping, shouts, bells and yells from bystanders, but mostly it was the sound of thousands of rubber soles gently and rhythmically drumming the pavement that was deafening and no competition for my ipod. It struck me several times throughout the race as oddly beautiful. We were all there for different reasons, but all had something in common. Two things, actually- running and a "goal", whatever that might be. You could argue that we were all glutton for punishment for running a notoriously hilly course, but regardless, we were all there because we were trying to achieve something. That's when I realized that running is a labor of love and that I could say that I really was enjoying myself. The view wasn't so bad either.

Ironically, it was those same foot-drumming-partners-in-running that ended up causing me the most frustration. It's normal to start a race as a swarm of people, each starting strong and vigorous, with a sense of excitement in the air. I expected that...for the first couple miles. But it never really seemed to loosen up. Much of my time and energy were spent dodging and dancing around other runners (especially on the hills), trying to find a path and some space to find a comfortable cadence that I could maintain. I'm not sure that ever happened. So while I was much more prepared mentally and physically this time around for the distance, I had not anticipated that major distraction. But, at the end of the day, it's not about what happened around me...it's about what happened within me. I didn't get discouraged, I didn't let the monstrous hill intimidate me, I didn't doubt that I could finish and I didn't give up. I trained hard, stayed positive and ran to the best of my ability, and in my mind, that makes me victorious. I've said it many times over...the journey is the reward; the medal is just the reminder.

My stats:
gun time: 2:05:56
chip time: 2:03:04
official pace: 9:24
gps calculation (factoring in additional .35 mile covered due to weaving): 9:09 pace with an adjusted finish time of 1:59:52