This hill and I do not get along. I knew it too, from the day I discovered and first tried to conquer it. (Years ago. Yeah, we go way back.) In my gut I knew that it would eventually evolve into something symbolic that would rise again to try and mock me.

And this morning it did.

I’d been up early contemplating the desire to get a jump on the day’s workload versus relieve some stress. I somehow (miracle of all miracles) managed to talk my slacker self into donning my running shoes in favor of a jaunt around the neighborhood.

To my chagrin I quickly realized how out of shape I’ve become when two runners blazed past me effortlessly. I guess the shame of being lapped kicked me in gear because suddenly I wanted to do something crazy.

Cue TFH. “TFH’ is the affectionate name we’ve given to the ridiculous stretch of gravel in the above picture. (Translation: THAT. F@#$&. HILL.)

I hate that hill. I hate the fact that it is so steep and so long and in my darn neighborhood. (Constantly taunting me.)

And yet… I put on my big girl panties and ran the whole freaking thing. Didn’t stop once. Head down. Music blaring. Legs burning.

Yep. The whole freaking thing.

And then I died.

Whatever. I did it. (It just wasn’t pretty afterwards.) 

Honestly, I think I ran it to punish myself. Possibly to also will myself back from the wimpy mindset I’ve been living in as of late.

Whatever happened to that warrior woman who would try anything?

She had become a thing of the past.

Until today and TFH. In the big span of things, I know that running up a steep hill isn’t all that spectacular. But it was symbolic.

I feel much better now.

It was my second national conference experience and it was even more meaningful due to the fact that I got to serve as an official conference blogger and member of the digital news team.  (You can read my posts online if you wish.)

My only complaint? 111 degree weather. Just a little… warm.

I love (not really) hearing people discount other’s accomplishments as LUCK.

As if their hard work and talent didn’t have anything at all to do with it.

While yes, success is sometimes being at the right place at the right time, fortuitous circumstances are not just happenstance. Most of the “overnight success” stories people admire are anything but “overnight.” It takes years of dedication and responsibility and positioning to achieve the level of accomplishments desired in this life.

So if by “luck” you mean “worked my butt of to get here” then, yeah. Some people are fairly lucky.

Unless you are me.

In which case one would assume the exact opposite.

And one would be correct, by the way.

Honestly, I haven’t been grocery shopping in a week. Supplies have been dwindling. We are down to instant rice, dry cereal, peanut butter and a heel of bread.

Not. Kidding.

Of course, earlier that morning (in our infinite wisdom) my husband and I had eaten the last of the eggs. (As opposed to feeding our young.)

I had nothing to offer my children for breakfast… or lunch… or dinner. (I have nothing to say in my defense so I won’t even try. I’m pretty much limping across the school year finish line.)

So off I went, with a 10 minute window to purchase some type of sustenance for the boys. Hair and teeth unbrushed. Remnants of last night’s makeup on my face and the most atrocious, mismatched outfit one could throw together.

I looked like a banshee.

I’m sure I acted like one too.

As luck would have it, I was not the only mother doing the last-day-of-school-food-dash. To say that discovery was a relief is an understatement. We just looked across the aisles at each other and laughed the laugh of the manic mother club.

For the past five days, however, I’ve been parked in Arizona at the beautiful Arizona Biltmore for the American Advertising Federation’s ADMERICA Conference.

What an experience it has been! I’ll write more about the conference in subsequent posts, I’m certain.

As I sit by the fountain drinking my morning coffee on this final day, I realize two things – the fact that I am physically exhausted but mentally inspired and the reality that reentry back into real life will be painful.

Like, prison in a third-world country, painful.

Oh, don’t misunderstand. I AM READY TO LEAVE. But by the time I get home this evening (around midnight) and resume my normal life responsibilities (like, five minutes later) I will probably be exhausted and needing another getaway. (Oh the irony!)

C’est la vie!

The adventure is always worth the inevitable crash at the end.

My interest in blogging began in 2008 when I answered an advertisement in my hometown newspaper. I’d always wanted a column of my own, and I figured a blog would be a nice audition for the “big” job.

I immediately fell in love with blog writing. That love grew to include the development of my own platform and opportunities to blog for local and regional publications. Soon, I had individuals coming to me, seeking advice and assistance for their blogging pursuits.

To say that blogging has become a passion would be an understatement.

I’m a true believer that blogging is a key component of an organization’s marketing strategy. A blog gives your company a voice and serves as the hub of your online marketing efforts. When executed correctly, blogging allows a brand’s personality to shine and feeds an organization’s social media efforts.
However, before embarking on any blogging program, you (the company) need to establish some clear outcomes.

Chances are you have one (or all) of these goals in mind:  {Read more}

I’ve been flat out exhausted lately. I might be on top of my game at work but by the time I drag myself home, I’m fairly useless. And I’ve been okay with my nighttime uselessness until like, Tuesday, when the kids began coming home with a trillion end of year school projects.

I had forgotten about the annual torture fest.

Every single year SINCE THE DAWN OF TIME it has happened. And every single year it CATCHES ME BY SURPRISE.

I have absolutely no mental energy for it. My patience is shot. I’m just trying to keep the kids from failing. (It is my entire parenting strategy by the time May rolls around. Ask my husband. He’ll verify.)

Go ahead. Judge me.

I was in the midst of helping my 7th grader with his six page language arts “soundtrack project” this evening when I happened upon a post called “Worst End of School Year Mom Ever.”

If you have school-aged children (or are thinking of procreating at some point in  your life) you have got to read that blog.

Go ahead. I’ll wait.

See? The universe totally has my back.

This woman (Jen Hatmaker) is my soul-sister. I love everything about her and her frank take on the end of year chaos especially her quote “What fresh hell is this?”

I hear you, sister.

Solidarity. 

I’ve never done a running challenge before. And, quite frankly, I can think of a thousand reasons NOT to do it. (I’m a realist, Y’all. Inevitably I’m going to end up cursing myself at 11:00pm one evening after a particularly trying day. It is bound to happen.)

And that is precisely why I want to participate. I want to see what I am made of. Especially considering my recent decent into the land of meh.

There are 47 days until the Philadelphia Color Run and 138 days left until the Steamtown Marathon. I need a good kick in the pants or I’m never gonna conquer them.

The concept of the Summer Streak is simple –  from Memorial Day to Independence Day you must run at least 1 mile every day. (A full 39 consecutive days of running.)

Seems simple enough, right?

The challenge (and I mean that literally) for me will be those days I work late or rise early. (Translation – practically every day.)  I think the program will be good for me, not only physically, but mentally as well. I’ve learned recently that if I’m not taking care of myself and relieving stress, I end up in a bad space mentally.

So… let’s go streaking, friends!

Motivation and inspiration come in many forms. One of my favorite ways to feed the creative soul is through visuals. In fact, I have an entire Pinterest board devoted to these gems of wisdom.