746 steps at Mother Cabrini Shrine

Some of you have heard me talk about the Mother Cabrini Shrine here in Denver and our love for “running the steps”.


Mother Cabrini was the first American citizen Saint.  She is the patron Saint of Immigrants.  You can read her entire story here and I think it’s really an interesting read.  This place is very spiritual as it includes several chapels, a meditation walk, a Rosary garden, the spring where they say the waters are healing waters, the Stairway of Prayer (373 stairs) leading to the Heart of Stones Mother Cabrini herself laid back in 1912 and the 22′ statue of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

The last time we were here it was 10* and we were mostly alone.  Montana and I ran up the stairs, I said a quick prayer thanking God I survived the cold and ran back down.  Sean stayed up for a much longer while.  He loves the solitude and spirituality of this space.


This time, there was a family there with about 10 kids and I cannot tell you the chaos.  Oh the chaos.  And running and there were scooters involved.  My favorite part was the little girl who was yelling at her little brother (he kept trying to put his head between the bars surrounding the Sacred Heart),

“MaMAH!!  MaMAH!!  You can’t put your heads between the bars!!”

Over and over.  About five minutes after we get there we hear her say…,

“You can put your head between those bars…”, sweet little voice dripping with trouble.  Mmmhmm.  Sisters. You can’t turn your back on ’em. I’m tellin’ you now.

They leave and I say to Sean, “You can put your head between those bars”.  So he did.  Good Lord. Never let it be said fun can’t be had at the Shrine of Cabrini.  😉


I ran the stairs twice and I was winded but it was very worth it.  Today my calves hurt, thank the Lord for compression sleeves.  *note to self, buy more compression sleeves




I’m a felon

Or I look like one?

My head hurt.  It was bad this morning. I just wanted to sleep it off.   But I peeled myself out of bed and dressed for the race anyway, like the good little volunteer I am, and headed out.

I got there about 8:30am and met the gentleman in charge, let’s call him “Bill”. First you should know that when I sent Bill an email asking if he still needed volunteers, he came right back with full on excitement and said, “Hi Tina!  I absolutely do!”.  Huh.  Tina.  Okay.  I shot him back an email and teased him a little about how busy he must be because my name is Teresa.  He apologized and was very nice about it.  Directed me with where to go on race day.

This morning, I meet him and I’m greeted with,

“Good morning! So…what are you in for??”


“What did you do?”  he asks again.

“Excuse me?” I give him a funny look, clearly not understanding.

He then says, “You’re here for community service, what did you do?”.

Yeah…no.  So I explain, I just volunteered.  Because I wanted to.  And hello, it’s National Day of Service.

“Oh.  I’m sorry.”  he says, “There was someone else that is volunteering that has community service to do and  I completely mixed you up”.

Yes, yes you did.  So far, I haven’t done anything that needs community service or any kind of incarceration,  but it’s early.

He then proceeds to explain it’s a small race (300 people), they have done everything already and all we have to do is wait for the runners.  The race starts in two hours.  Have some donuts (are they gluten free? I bet he wouldn’t appreciate that question…).  Btw, he’ll use me at the finish line…maybe.  On my left side I have a giant redneck truck with speakers attached outside of it blaring hard rock music and plenty of bass and on my right side I have the “expo” with it’s own set of giant speakers blaring bad eighties music.  Twenty feet from each other.  Some of the race people (I think they are a company that puts races on) were standing around smoking and I was the only one who was dressed like I might someday run farther than 10 ft.

I went home.

I know.  I recognize this is really bad taste but you know what?  My head hurt SO MUCH and I would be standing around for three hours.  I will volunteer for a redemption race.  I promise.  I just couldn’t do it.  That whole~felony thing~ it was looking more and more promising.



After so many years of talking about headache this and migraine that, one day I decided I’d call it something else.  Malaria sounded FAR more interesting.  Today I have Malaria.  i.e. a migraine.  And oh man, it is a killer.

We got this beautiful *the angels are singing* copier/scanner/cookie maker/coffee maker at work.  Okay, it really doesn’t make cookies, but I swear it freakin’ looks like it should.  It does EVERYTHING.  I love it so much.  I wanted to send a thank you note to the powers that be at the main office thanking them for making my life so much easier. <that is not a joke.   About a week ago I began to hear it make a noise I didn’t think it should make.  We called the ~fix everything magical~ guy and he came and put some oil on the rollers.  I know, why the story?  The oil is burning and the smell is toxic.  Toxic.  Like working in a nail salon squared.  SO  bad.  This just was a recipe for disaster for my head.

So when I headed to the gym tonight I thought…with any luck a run will kick those endorphins in and this headache out.  That and the meds I took.  No. such. luck.  Every step I took pounded it into me.  I stopped every half mile to NOT throw up.  Three little miles to say I got a workout done.  But it wasn’t friendly.  And I think the math was wrong on the treadmill but my head hurt too much to argue about it.  I ran 3 miles at 6.2 and an incline of 1.5 and the treadmill said I ran an average mile of 10:20.  Um…really?  Man, I really DO suck at math.

I am volunteering tomorrow at the Fleet on the Street “Resolve 5k/10k”.  The weather is actually cooperating and I may not freeze to death but if you don’t hear from me again, could someone please run these races for me?  Yeah…I didn’t think so.  Whatever.


Entering Blogland.

When someone writes a first post on a blog it should grab the reader, suck them into the vortex of blogland and invite them to immediately want to come back day after day to read again.

No pressure.

I want to run and I want to tell the story.  It sounds like a good time all around.

First things First.  THIS is what I bought today!!!!!  I know, I know.  It’s not black. It’s pink.  I will just have to deal with it.   So I own a pink Garmin Forerunner 10. Gah. My life sucks.  I’m going to use it tomorrow after I get off work.  My window for running each day is very small but I really want to try it out.

I went right out and bought a giant calendar and a handful of super colorful markers to mark all the training and races because I’m very visual and I like things written down and organized right in front of me. 020

I had MT (youngest boy…cutest errand runner) hang my calendar right behind my treadmill so I could see it easily and have handy access.  Unfortunately, it’s like six feet tall now and I’m 5’2”.  So… this was a giant fail.  I can’t even read what my training is.  My stretching for the day consisted of reaching across the wall to see what the workout was supposed to be.  I think I’ll have to regroup.  Maybe put it somewhere else that will encourage and inspire me.  Or remind me to get off my ass.

In all seriousness, there are many days when my running is put aside and put aside and put aside  and all that is left is ten or eleven o’clock at night.  This is when my motivation is needed the most.  Those days are really hard.  I’m tired, my bed is calling me and it’s so easy to say I’ll run in the morning, a mere few hours away.  I need to suck it up and do it anyway.  And 75% of the days I will.  I do not have awesome willpower.  25% of the days I’ll go to bed.  And I’ll eat that gluten filled delicious cupcake on the way.  I would like one right now.