Striving for gold

Most friends think I'm crazy to run as much as I do. They should read the weekly profiles of "regular" runners online at Runners' World. Those folks log maybe 60-plus miles a week. My 38-mile week earlier this month doesn't compare.

I plan to celebrate Labor Day weekend at home for Box Car Days. Before I can pound back glasses of MGD in the beer tent, I have to run 20 miles. You read that right -- 20 miles.

I think I've convinced my sister to rollerblade the entire route with me, which is such a blessing. When you're alone running on a hot day, anything over mile 10 seems grueling and the mind can start to do funny things. You want to quit.

I told my mom tonight that, yes, I actually have to train and do seemingly foolish things like run 20 miles on the weekend. I explained to her that the Twin Cities Marathon is like the Olympics for mortals. Only instead of training for four years, it's more like four months. And we mortals don't want to half-ass it during training. You try for 110 percent because on the big day -- in my case, the marathon -- you want to be victorious. Whether that's first place and a $20,000 purse, or a medal and a T-shirt for finishing.

Nine lives

When we went to California for a weeklong trip recently, I didn't ask anyone to water my plants. I doubted my cousin or Ben's brother, who both live in Northeast, would be interested in making the 20-minute drive for plants. And I didn't think about asking a neighbor until about 10 p.m. the night before we left.

So when we returned home I wasn't surprised to see that all five plants had kicked the bucket. I didn't feel all that bad -- the fact that the plants had lived almost three months was a huge feat.

For fun, though, I watered them a day after we got home. And by the next day, they had all perked up and bloomed.

These plants have multiple lives.

On the trail again.

I just mapped out an 18-mile route I will run tomorrow in preparation for the Twin Cities Marathon.

I'm excited to run the marathon -- I get the same sensation when I'm looking forward to a wedding, seeing family or going on a mini-vacation. But I have to put in the work to get there.

I'm blessed that I have a good friend who is going to run a large portion of tomorrow's route with me. Otherwise, it'd be a lonely and quiet 18 miles.

Two people, one GPS device and a California highway

When I first started writing this post, I detailed every pit stop during our trip to California. I've since decided to bore you only with the highlights.

We....

-- watched six different baseball teams play in four stadiums.
--put about 1,000 miles over a week on the PT Cruiser we rented.
--visited three different graduate schools.
--drove along scenic Highway 1.
--hiked in Big Sur, and I almost cried (OK, I shed a tear or two) because I'm afraid of heights.
--stopped at four wine tasting rooms, where we drank probably 20 different wines. I got buzzed.
--paid about $10 to travel along the 17-mile drive at Pebble Beach. Not sure if I'd pay to drive along the beach again.
--barked along with the seals.
--stayed near San Diego, Los Angeles, Monterey and San Francisco.
--ran on rocky cliffs along the ocean.
--realized that a properly-working GPS device and a pact to get along mean we won't have to suffer through hours of couples' therapy.

***Photos to come soon. Ben saved them to his computer.

Royal thoughts on the throne

I do some of my best thinking and reminiscing on the road or in the bathroom.

Today, during a potty break, I thought about the last six years. Now, you're probably thinking: That was one long pee break. Not true. I was in and out of the bathroom in a matter of minutes.

Around this time...
Six years ago, I was preparing for my freshman year in college.

Five years ago, I was about to wrap up a communications internship in Sioux Falls and move to Thailand, where I lived with Ben for four months.

Four years ago, I was living at home and getting ready to start working for the Minnesota Daily.
Three years ago, I was about to finish a summer gig at a newspaper in Winona. I was also in training mode for my first full marathon. I also said goodbye -- for a few months -- to Ben, who had just moved to NYC:(

Two years ago, I was in Washington, trying to climb the hellish learning curve of covering DC politics.

One year ago, I had just gotten married and returned from a 10-day honeymoon in Hawaii.

Today, I'm in a good place. I have a great job, a wonderful husband and a very loving family. Now, about that dog....

Love and money.

I have never been good at math or very knowledgeable when it comes to money.

If I need to do a math problem, I look it up in one of my favorite books, Numbers in the Newsroom. And then I call my husband to make sure the math is right. Percent change gets me every time.

I married a financial analyst with deep knowledge in the ways of Wall Street, so I read up when I can about the economy, credit card debt, etc. There's nothing sexier -- so I've been told -- when I can talk about diversification or debt service at the dinner table. (That's an exaggeration. I string a bunch of financial-related words together, pretending to know about debt service and bonds and whatever else.)

Now, economics of love. That's something I get. Here's an article from the host of Ben Stein's Money on the ways of love and money. And it's not about finding a sugar daddy

Oops!

I made a mistake. The recipe I used for scones didn't come from Paula Deen. It comes from Tyler Florence.

Pardon my error.