This Lil' Piggy...

My Ma used to look down at her feet on her birthdays and say, "These feet are ___ (insert age) years old. Isn't that something?" She always found it funny that feet, hands for that matter, aged, right along with the rest of the body. I would say, "But Ma, your eyes, nose, mouth, those are all ___ years old, too..." but that didn't strike her as interesting in knowing that her feet were now a year older than just the day before.

How ironic that just the other day I looked down and thought: "These feet are 37 1/2 years old"... While not the portrait of beauty, they've certainly served their purpose. They tell a life's story. They've been with me as I weeble-wobbled my first baby steps, as I pushed to pedal my pink banana-seat bicycle, as I made the game-winning kickball catch in 4th grade, as I gratefully hugged my orthopedic surgeon after my car accident, as I proudly displayed my summa cum laude cords at BU's commencement, as I stood in front of my very own classroom for the first time, as I traveled to various places and spaces on this earth, as I walked 117 miles for breast cancer, as Dad walked me down the aisle, and as I ran to a crying baby in the middle of the night. My feet have been there for me, even more so than some people I know. My feet. Carrying me through. Ten pudgy toes. And one pain-in-the-ass bunion.

Never thought of it that way before? I guess it's no coincidence that every vacation, I take a picture of my tootsies. After all, they earned the vacation, too.

Once Ma had left this earth for what comes next, I had an overwhelming urge to run. Just get on the treadmill, turn on my tunes and run. But with a giant baby boy in my belly and a painful toe, that wasn't happening anytime soon.

Fast forward. A new house, a new baby, a running toddler...

After a painful surgery last September to remove said bunion, after an awful recovery - ummm...nobody told me it would be THAT bad and believe me, I have had LOTS of surgeries... I was able to run just this last weekend, for the first time...embarrassingly enough, in years. My feet, which have always kept me going throughout the course of life's peaks and valleys, had been holding me back...for years. But now, I could run. Albeit a short run, it was a run, nonetheless.

So, I set a goal. Couch to 5k. Alright, maybe not for 2015, but for 2016, I would like to run the Pancan Purplestride 5k, for team Marchin' for Margie. (Check it out, here)

Until then, look for an upcoming picture of my piggies, soaking up the warm Arizona sunshine, taking in a baseball game, or chasing after those babies. I might even be sporting a lovely shade of green toenail polish. Green does mean "Go," doesn't it?