Jesus College, Cambridge - April 2026

That photo I can’t find, but crystallized in my mind: his hand on my hand as we sat on the bed of the Bed&Breakfast his parents stayed at, the one time I met them, the same place my parents stayed when they visited me later, April (or was it May?) 1993 at Jesus College, Cambridge: we took the train to London, we took the train to Bath, my mother embarrassed me by wanting ice in everything she drank, my father just by being his big loud American self, he would fall from a mountain trail to his death just 3 years and a few months later but I, of course, didn’t know that then, or I might have minded less, he wrote in his journals we read later when he was gone, so we could better know him, how much he enjoyed their visit with me in England during my college “Study Abroad” semester, and how traveling (he so seldom got to do, at least internationally) inspired him to remember his love of history, how he really needed to “learn more about Mary Queen of Scotts” a phrase that became an inside joke between me and my husband (whom he didn’t get to meet before his death), because dear Dad was so voracious about all he was interested in and never had time for (I am exactly like this, and am now living longer than him, which is a strange realization), and he put such pressure on himself, on me and his other children, how it shaped us (for good and for ill), and the sad affection I’ll always feel for them: my mother, my father, the boyfriend from that intense time in my life, my husband, all gone now or transformed, the way our memories change over time, get rewritten, or become encapsulated and static, as if something still lives in those moments but is frozen, some small part of my soul remaining at that college so far away in England or captured in that still not-found photograph.

Recreating photos, or trying to!

Happy to see the hippy liberal spirit - and action - still alive and well in Cambridge!

No one better to share my first time back in Cambridge than my dear friend Charmaine, who married a Brit and lives in England now. She and I met in 7th grade - when we were only 12 years old! She took some really wonderful photographs during our visit.

    

This may or may not be the house we Pomona College students lived in together, because I totally forgot to check what exact address it was, and the houses all look the same!

We had the most gorgeous weather for our punting excursion:

Angry - Scared - Sad

I don’t write about world events on this blog too often; it’s mostly an unabashed exercise in navel-gazing that I yet hope is occasionally interesting to others.

But knowing this is happening - that our country is doing this - while we live our safe little lives in the US, is so deeply troubling I have to pay attention, and talk at least a bit about it. About how I hate it and I hate the government in power that thinks this is acceptable. Or the way to solve problems. 

The fact that other countries are standing up to the US and not playing along is good, but still more needs to happen. This war never should have started, and it has to end. Yet, even when it does, I fear the repercussions are going to be so long-lived that it feels like end-times. And puts everything else into perspective.

It Keeps Getting Better

I know that, oh, this love

Is starting again

And it keeps getting better

Oh, it keeps, it keeps 

getting better

I cried out

And fell out the center

I’m so high

I want this forever

“In Love Again” ~ Mannequin Pussy

How do you know when someone loves something (or someone)? Bring up the subject and watch that person’s face light up. Whenever anyone talks to me about running half marathons, I light up like a Christmas tree.

At the risk of over-indulging this topic, let me count the ways I love this sport and how thrilled I am that I’ve been able to get faster with almost every single race I’ve done since last Fall. Doing 2:07 for Lousiana half marathon, then 2:10 for Clearwater (slower because: bridges) left me logically desiring to get 2:05 with this morning’s race and - mission accomplished!

Fastest time since I did just under that, for the same race in 2022:

Since then I just got slower and slower and I thought maybe my fast (for me) days were just, over. So I’m very happy and thankful for my body being able to do a half this fast again! Maybe that is all I need to say.

But there’s always more I can say about running! And about this most recent race in particular - how the weather was freaking perfect, dry, sunny and low 50s for the 7:35am start, so I could wear only a light jacket for before and after the race, and my usual running tank, no hat and gloves needed (unlike freezing cold Baton Rouge). How I met two women before the race, friends doing the race together, one of them 70 years old and still running half and full marathons. My new hero! 

We met in line for the bathroom at Starbucks before the race (as you do), and when Joanne (all the way to the right in photo below) heard that I was trying for 2:05 she said she was going to run with me since that was her goal too (versus her friend Christa who was trying for sub-2:00). Insta-friends! This type of thing happens at races all the time.

How I started out pretty near the 2:00 pacer (I actually recognized her as the pacer who helped me get my 2:00 PR in New Orleans back in 2022) and fell further and further behind, but knew I just had to stay far enough ahead of 2:10 to make my goal. 

I whiled away most of miles 1-5 talking on and off with Joanne, picking her brain for all the things she does to still be able to run such long distances into her 70s. At some point after that, she fell behind me, but she had told me several times “you run your own race” so I didn’t feel obligated to stick with her. Somewhere between mile 6 and 7 I thanked a (handsome) police officer for being out there and the “good pace” comment he offered back, buoyed me up for a bit. 

👮‍♂️

Hitting mile 8 was encouraging, except for the knowledge that I still had (5) “miles to go before I sleep” (eat). The hills helped, at least when going down them. The slight stitch in my upper right chest, which started about mile 9, did not. The ups and downs (both literal and figurative), of a distance like this sometimes feels like a wild bipolar ride and all you can do is strap in! 

Mile 10 and it’s just a 5k from here! Turns to despair at how much further to go that actually is. But then oh look boardwalks ahead! Both picturesque and lovely to the knees and the sun’s on my face, this is heaven, I adjust my form, I close my eyes, I could do this forever. 

Becomes shit, my lower back is not feeling so good, I wonder if it’s smart to be running this pace, but here’s a blessed water stop and let’s try some nutrition, which was this yummy “energy waffle” I bought at the running store where we picked up our race packets.

OMG when will this ever end!?! Transitions to ah there’s the turnaround, it’s the last one so just lock in and finish after that. Mile 12 this is really going to happen and let’s see if I have any energy left to sprint!

Look, as my new friend Joanne said, “I’m not training for the Olympics here!” and I also realize I’m not setting any records. Even while falling in love with racing again, and even if I keep training hard, I know there’s no guarantee I’ll keep getting faster. 

There will still be races both “good” and “bad” ahead, there could even be - god forbid - a real injury (versus annoying knee thing I’ve had for over a year but recent x-ray shows just an inflamed tendon, not even arthritis, to my surprise and delight). 

But it doesn’t matter because I am just enjoying the euphoric ride while it lasts! It has been nothing but a complete and unexpected gift.

If I can just stay healthy, I guess there’s nothing to do now but to chase a new PR of sub-2 hours! 

A time I thought would never again be within reach.

 

Half-Crazy

“I only run half-marathons, because I’m only half-crazy.” ~ origin unknown 

I’ve been even more into running these races than ever before, and it was particularly special that I got to share the last two with my sister, here above photo for the Clearwater running festival just last weekend and below for our 3rd annual meeting up in Baton Rouge on MLK weekend.

Where it was so cold I wore my hat the entire race, a first for me I think:

Look, I know it’s not at all the most important thing going on in the world right now, but it brings me joy so I had to share. 

In fact, “Joy” is my title for this photo from Safety Harbor Best Damn Race in 2024, where I came around the corner near the finish line and was surprised by friends waiting for me and cheering me on, such a great moment! 

Next weekend I’ll do the SH BDR for the 10th time (it would have been my 11th but it skipped a year because: COVID). This, the race I’ve done the longest, is so special to me because it’s where my half-marathon craze began, when I ran it for the first time in Feb.2016. So, of course I have to do it every year. 

In 2025 I did a record (for me) 9 half-marathons! This year I think I’ll go for 10. I’ve already done 2 this month, I’m signed up for 2 in Feb and 3 in March which will leave me only needing 3 for the remainder of 2026. 

Mississippi Gulf Coast Half - in December 2025

Late November’s Space Coast Half - 

Central Florida Legends “Mermaid” Half Marathon - older bro did the “Fountain of Youth” 5k race - 

Saint Pete Runfest Half - holding a piece of licorice randomly given from some spectator/supporter but I couldn’t eat it until I finished (this was very near the end) -

My long term goal is to get to 100 half-marathons, and I’ve got 48 completed currently. Almost half-way there! And eventually if I keep running these halfs into my 60s and even 70s, perhaps I could win or at least place within my age bracket. A girl can dream.

One For the Record Books!

Not that anyone is keeping score. But I really can’t deny my competitive nature and enjoyment of the accomplishment so, reader, for Christmas 2025 I WIN!!

It was our first Christmas in Seattle since Mom died in Spring of 2022, and I had the Airbnb cabin near the Bavarian town of Leavenworth (famous for its Xmas lights), booked for almost an entire year. So, a lot of anticipation had been built up around this trip. And it went so well, it was almost beyond belief! From the flights, rental car, and 3 nights in the mountains, book-ended by 3 nights at downtown hotel in Seattle (so we could visit friends and family), and 1 night hotel near Sea-Tac airport, before flying back - that was ALL ME who arranged it. 

🤩

And it was by no means guaranteed. We are a family of worriers, coming by it honestly from our dear Mama who perfected the art. There was severe weather and flooding in the PNW right before Xmas. In fact, it completely washed out whole bridges and large sections of Highway 2, which is the route most people take from Seattle to Leavenworth. And so, we worried, or at least my older brother and I did. The Airbnb Host assured us, the cabin was fine, for it’s on a hill, there was no flooding in the immediate area and we could easily get there via alternate route on I-90.

Thankfully, this all turned out to be true, but we also had last minute panic when our mid-size - or was it compact? - rental SUV was err rather too compact. Not wanting to fit 5 people with luggage into the 1 SUV, (and younger brother adamantly stating he was NOT COMING if we had to squeeze uncomfortably into one vehicle for a 3 hour drive), my sister quickly reserved a rental car also. But then she got worried about driving in the snow that we heard was pretty bad up in the mountain passes.  

Swooping in to be the hero, older bro easily rented a 2nd SUV with all-weather tires, better pickup location, time and price. Don’t you just love it when a plan comes together and the path unfolds before you? Like magic.

So, I guess it wasn’t just me, after all!

Then, we actually made it to the cabin on Tuesday the 23rd, before it got dark, made it into town to enjoy the lights and have a nice dinner, and got back to the cabin without killing ourselves on the crazy hairpin mountain roads (we took 1 car and yes, I drove both ways because it’s easier for everyone than me being a total backseat driver/nervous passenger). And without coming to blows, disagreeing over what music to play.

I swear I’m not trying to sound like an Airbnb commercial (or look like an OrangeTheory Fitness brand ambassador in some of these photos - ok, wait maybe that part I am!), but the cabin was the perfect size for our group of 5 (4 sibs plus Stephanie’s husband Noe). 

It had a cozy living room with gas wood burning stove, in which to gather together, complete with a small Xmas tree with lights and other decorations, as well as a fully stocked kitchen and the crucial private rooms to which we could retire when we were sick of each other or needed to rest. 

All was going so smoothly until next day when the power went out. Right before we were leaving to go into town for lunch and somehow magically restored before we got back, even though at one time the website reported it wouldn’t be back on until 8pm that evening. If we had to lose power, we really couldn’t have planned it any better!

On Christmas we stayed put the entire day, not having to go anywhere or do anything other than open presents, eat, talk and enjoy each other. And reader, IT SNOWED. Off and on, pretty much all day. Again, like magic. 

So, as opposed to being full of ego and taking credit, I just feel humbled and grateful. That it went so well, that I have PTO so I can take the break from work, that I and my siblings have the resources to fly places to meet up with each other, to rent the cars, hotels and Airbnbs, afford the meals out etc.

                    

And that we love and like each other enough to want to do it. Year after year after year. Next year: it’s Costa Rica, and we already have the Airbnb booked!