Remember waaaaaay back in January when I said I was starting to train for my first half marathon? Well, let me share how that (insane) moment of inspiration played out. I ran:

• Twice in February.
• Eight times in March.
• Once in April.
• Four times in May.
• Once in June.
• Once in July.

And that was it. Then, I just stopped.

Umm... Not exactly the prescribed training plan, especially when none of those runs were longer than 7.5 miles (actually, most were around 2.5). No, as my mother knows all too well, I have an overabundance of enthusiasm and excitement, but I completely lack in self-discipline and work ethic. The answers to those questions I'd asked myself? I am who I am; even my beloved Felix as a source of motivation cannot transform me.

But I'm also stubborn. Extremely, absurdly stubborn. That's what got me through all 75 miles of this spring's Cinderella bike ride; I could barely walk for days afterwards, but I finished. So as Labor Day weekend loomed on the horizon, I thought, ok, I clearly wasn't ready but certainly wasn't going to quit. It would (sigh, as usual) come down to sheer willpower.

We'd set the alarm for 4:00am, and by 4:15am, Felix and I were out the door and walking with a herd of people through the dark to the starting line. Herd, you might ask? Oh yes; there were nearly 16,000 participants. Thus, we had to be divided into corrals. Felix, because he's Mr. Speedy, was in A. I am Ms. Not So Speedy; I was in D.

At 5:30am, the announcer shouted, "GO!" Corral A hit the road. Then eventually, B...C...and finally at almost 6:00am, I shuffled my way to the starting line and... "GO!"

My immediate thought was, oh no, I've only just started and already need to find a potty! I hadn't realized we'd be standing around for so long. Argh! But I forced myself to stay calm, kept my don't-go-faster-than-this-or-you'll-die pace, and soon gratefully found something else to distract me. After all, the race kicked off by taking us through both theme parks, and wow -- it was amazing.

I entered California Adventure, and running by the water at Paradise Pier was incredible. The fountains were on, shining with colored lights, with Mickey Mouse's bright Fun Wheel in the background. The whole scene, complete with cheering and waving cast members lining the streets, was unexpectedly emotional, and I teared up as I jogged past. (Well, ok, maybe I'm just overly sentimental.)

After an apropos pit stop (haha) in Cars Land, I ran along into Disneyland, and I absolutely loved going down Main Street, around the park, and through the gates of Sleeping Beauty's castle. I'm pretty sure I was smiling this entire time, but then we exited into the streets of Anaheim and left the Happiest Place on Earth far, far behind.

Don't worry -- I didn't crumble all at once. In fact, it could have been much worse. I wasn't sure what the urban portion of the route would be like, so it was a pleasant surprise to discover hordes of supporters all along the way. Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, a mariachi band, hula dancers, marching bands, community groups, and lots and lots of cheerleaders were standing on almost every other block, encouraging us to keep going. Thank goodness, because running along the streets of LA would otherwise have been rather bleak.

So I held up pretty well until after I passed the 10K mark. By then, the sun was up, and I've always struggled badly in the heat. To take my mind off the increasingly sweaty discomfort, I hunted around for distractions. Lots of people on costume -- Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, the Incredibles, Jessie and Woody and Buzz, and... Superman? Wait, NO WAY, is that... a hugely pregnant woman running?! And faster than me, too!!!

In the midst of all that meandering, I spotted someone recognizable -- a woman whom I'd noticed back at the start. She was quite a bit older yet wearing a tutu and a pink t-shirt with Sleeping Beauty ironed onto the back. And she seemed to be running about a 12-minute mile -- exactly the pace I was trying to hold onto. I told myself to focus on her, just her, and with that, I pushed myself to keep going.

As I approached mile 9, my hips really started to hurt. Another surprise, as I'd mistakenly assumed that my knees would be my issue. I felt a twinge of worry. What if it got so bad, I'd have to stop? But just as my anxiety was growing, the route took me into Angels Stadium. Whoa. The bleachers alongside the track were FULL of people, and I gaped at the vision of us runners going by on the Jumbotron, as the announcer's welcoming voice boomed over the loudspeakers. I can't even think of the right words that could capture what it felt like. But at that moment, when pain was truly starting to set in, it was exactly what I needed.

After mile 10, I fell into deep conversation with myself. 

Why don't you just walk for a little while? 

NO! If I stop running, I might fall down. Or not get my jelly legs to start again. 

But it's so hot. And ohhhhh, it hurts! 

Stop that, Kath. You've eaten enough. You have enough water. You don't have any excuses. Quit complaining and run!

I watched the pink-tutu-Sleeping-Beauty lady gradually pull away. Runners passed me...and more passed me...and more. I felt like a snail. I felt like I was burning up. I felt like walking. I felt like crazy. Suddenly, after going for soooooooo long on my own, I had a brief but wonderful flash of joy when Tim tapped me as he ran by. He's smiling! He looks great! Ahhhh... I have to keep running!

Mile 13. Only one tenth to go. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flag, looked left, and was utterly shocked. It was the 2:45 pacer! She saw me staring at her and immediately screamed, "DO IT! GO FOR IT! YOU'RE SO CLOSE! RUUUUUUUNNNNNN!!!!!!!"

I closed my eyes. Could I? Is there anything left? I put on a burst of faster speed, and my muscles and mind wailed in horrified protest. I forced myself to pull away, inch by inch, from the pacer. Just...a...few...more...steps...FINISH! I'm dying...

As I hobbled my way to the post-race area, I mustered up one last smile for the volunteer who draped a medal around my neck. And then I saw Felix. And then I cried.

I ended up at 2:49:32. Part of me wanted to murder that pacer; how dare she make me break for it and NOT finish below 2:45?! Part of me was just profoundly overwhelmed by the experience and stunned that I'd truly done it. I came in 7794 out of 15,847 finishers; 4098 out of 10,008 women; and my overall pace stayed under 13 minutes per mile.

With a time of 1:39:36, Felix came in 215 overall; 177 out of 5839 men. Most importantly, he was there for me at the end. With a glorious bag of ice. Isn't he remarkable? Yes, he is.

Interestingly, I would say the Cinderella ride caused me a lot more grief; the residual pain was far worse and took longer to recover from. However, the Disneyland Half Marathon was incomparably more difficult. As an inexperienced runner, I don't know why that is -- whether it's the sensation of moving so slowly, or the intimacy of my poor feet and the road, or the sheer enormity of pressing my entire body to do something it doesn't want to do. That kind of prolonged mental wrangling... It gives me an entirely new appreciation for Stephen King's The Long Walk.

But I did it. The life box is checked. And I'm never going to do another half marathon again. 

I think.

We're only a few weeks away from the end of Bryce's first school year as an afternoon kindergartner, and starting this August, all three of our kiddos will be full-time students. Wow.

And sure enough, as we've progressed further into our children's academic careers, our lives have been blessed with... yes, that's right -- school performances. Honking clarinets, pitchy voices, flailing limbs -- it's adorable stuff that only a parent could love.

So without further ado, I present to you the wonder and joy of 2012-2013, starring Keira and Ellie.

DECEMBER 2012 - Ellie's Dance Performances

DECEMBER 2012 - Keira's Winter Concert

MAY 2013 - Keira's Spring Concert

As the kids get increasingly older, Felix and I are often amused by the mixture of qualities we recognize in them that we also see in themselves. Bryce's dogged curiosity, his fanaticism for all things vehicular, even the way he lingers at the dinner table -- there's no doubt as to whose son he is. And Keira and I share the same passion for books, as well as the insanity of our melodramatic mood swings.

Ellie, however, is this fascinating hodge-podge of both of us. She has this real knack for numbers and a love for working with her hands and creating that I trace back to Felix. She also enjoys puzzles, loves to sleep in, and relishes her "pajama days," hanging out at home and refusing to change out of her fleecy pj's -- rather like someone I know very well... ;-)

Over mid-winter break, Ellie and I had quite a bit more time to hang out together, as she chose to take a few half-days and relax in the afternoons instead. We had conversations about all sorts of topics, from her awesome, newly learned hockey stop, to her thoughts on her upcoming birthday. We played a lot of Quirkle, which showed me that Ellie loooooooooooves to win and possesses this completely hilarious and wicked look of glee that takes over her expression when she's about to play a Big Move. And as always, she was simply an excellent companion -- up for whatever zaniness, quietness, or sugary-waffle-eating-ness I felt like doing.

Maybe that's the secret sauce. The wild high-highs and low-lows that Bryce-Baba and Keira-Mama experience are, in part, because we are so similar -- too much so, perhaps. Whereas Ellie, in blending the bits and pieces of who we are, is a combination that makes her unique unto herself, possible to get along with everyone.

Sure, she has her good and bad just like anyone else; to this day, I still remember how she used to flop to the ground in over-the-top helplessness when she "couldn't" put on her socks, or how she would suddenly, with no warning, bite other toddlers in her quiet, stealthy way. But as she grows, I'm continually amazed by her evenness and her individuality. That's Ellie -- the peacemaker, the glue, the rock that complements our family perfectly.

After training for his very first marathon -- running almost every day, through the rain, through the cold, even when we were traveling -- Felix finally achieved his goal. It took five months of intense preparation, but on January 13th, he completed the Walt Disney World 20th anniversary marathon, not quite in the time he'd planned but impressively darn close: 3:17:50. 

The perseverance and joy was amazing to watch. In fact, as I sit here thinking about it, I realize it's hard to describe how proud I feel, as it was truly one of those remarkable experiences when you see someone put his mind to something...and actually succeed! Exhilarating. Grueling. And inspiring.

So inspiring that I decided to sign up for the September Disneyland half marathon, along with Felix and a whole crew of family and friends.

Hooray, you might think. However, I'm not a runner. No, really, I know some people say that, yet they jog on the treadmill or run the occasional lap with their neighbors. 

I. Don't. Run. Not a mile, not a 5K, nothing. Never have, and never thought I would.

But living alongside my Other Half through all this... I find myself wondering: what could I do if I tried? Do I even possess that kind of sheer dedication? Believe me, these are very fair questions to ask.

The truth is, I don't know. I have a little over seven months to figure it out, and I think it will be "interesting."

I put on my shoes yesterday, encouraged Bryce to get on his bike, and trotted a little over two miles to/from downtown. Thank goodness my buddy was there to keep me motivated, looking over his shoulder to make sure I was going to catch up, or I would have listened to my inner whiner and slowed to a walk at the first stop sign.

Sigh... Thus, the journey begins!

I recently read this great article about the kid behind Caine's Arcade:

"Almost as a rule, billionaire entrepreneurs have origin stories that involve peddling and salesmanship from an early age...This isn't behavior to be ignored. It is indicative of a not-so-mystical thing: Entrepreneurial Spirit."

It totally resonated with me, not only because I think Caine is the most amazing kid ever, but my own life experiences support Forbes' basic tenets. My keepsake chest at home is full of hand-scrawled bookmarks and tiny baked crafts that my brother Rob sold me over years, starting from when he was just a kid, and he is a total rockstar now. I have greeting cards and other kitsch that I've gladly purchased from my niece, who I've already begged to remember me when she becomes a bajillionare. And check out Ellie's latest creation:

Is that awesome or what?!

Felix pointed out that the prime rib is only $3, so perhaps my girl needs some lessons in profit margins. Still, between her whimsical imagination, sharp mind for numbers, and "Entrepreneurial Spirit," Ellie's on her way to success!