Let me establish a bit of credibility. My mom had a stroke when she was 49. I was 29. I was her eldest child and she was unmarried which meant I was in charge of the big decisions.
Have you ever been on a board or worked for a non-profit or perhaps a new company? And they make you sit in a room around a table with crappy snacks and bad coffee so that you can come up with a mission statement?
I went for a long walk in the woods a few weeks back and thought about all the things most us of carry around. The pain,
I’m going to walk the line between personal and professional which is frankly a very thin line anyway. Over the course of some weeks I’ll share my story of finding out that my dad wasn’t my biological dad at the age of 46 and about how I came to search for my biological parent.
I’m thinking about when we hear a song and how it can immediately transport us back to another day and time and we can actually tap into the very feelings we were having.
Some of you may want to know a bit more about me. So let’s get started.
I grew up in Oregon. I’ve lived in Colorado for 25 years minus two to live in Cairo Egypt.
I was reading an article in a running magazine about training to get faster. Especially when you’re hurting or when the trail throws a curveball in your way.