THE CLOCK IS TICKING

After sitting in the car for three days and logging somewhere between 1,700 and 1,800 miles, we are home! We drove 11 hours a day for the first two days and then yesterday, we drove 8 hours—listening to books on CD and singing along (badly off-key) to every oldies radio station we could tune in along the way.

Our house was still standing, exactly where we left it in February. The only thing missing was the snow—the piles and piles of snow. The air was Minnesota crisp—a sunny 50 degrees—but the trees have budded out and the grass is starting to turn green. We even had time for a walk on the Central Lakes Trail before it got dark.

Our front yard when we left in February . . .

Our front yard on April 9 . . .

Now the clock is ticking:

It’s only 21 days until Grandbaby No. 2 is due to be born.

It’s 7 ½ weeks until Grandbaby No. 3 is due to be born.

And . . . I have only 36 training days until the 5K race on May 15. Thirty-six days. Five weeks . . . 864 hours. Sheesh--what have I gotten myself into?

The tendonitis is still causing problems. But at least it’s not any worse. And maybe it’s getting better, at the speed of tiny snails being towed through sludge by reluctant old tortoises. Slowly. Slowly. Slowly. I am hoping that my brand new running shoes will magically cure whatever ails me. Or at least, they will make me look hot. At my age, the goal is always to look hot.

Brand new hot running shoes

So the exciting countdowns begin: 10 . . . 9 . . . 8 . . .