Of socks and men

I figured out yesterday that I need new socks. I have a few new pairs I use during the week, and the thicker ones for the weekend runs. Couldn't find the ones I wanted , so I grabbed a pair I bought when we first started. I could tell they needed replacement. Weird how socks make such a big difference. So I'm planning on a trip to Fleet Feet this afternoon to get socks and gels for tomorrow.

About men. I'm convinced men have PMS. There is a time every month when my husband acts hormonal, for no reason at all. He denies it (he is a man after all!) but it is real. Has anyone else noticed this with their husbands?

One of the symptoms is his inability to do the simplest things. Like feeding the kids. Any other day, he can take care of them without any problem. But during PMS week, he can't even get a bottle of milk ready without complaining. Yesterday was one of those days. I grew more and more aggravated as the time passed. I fed the kids, bathe the twins, and by then, I was ready to put him out of the house.
Instead, I got my shoes on and off I went. 3.5 miles later, I came back (it was getting dark by then) and all my frustrations were gone. And his PMS was gone too. LOL

Thank God for running. Otherwise I would have stayed in the house, aggravated, and probably would have ended up picking a fight over something dumb. Those 3.5 miles help cleared my head and I felt good when I came back.

I have a confession to make. I'm so scared of doing 12 miles this week. I keep telling myself I am ready, I've come a long way, I've done 10 miles, 2 more will be icing on the cake. I know it's mental, my body feels fine once I get going. I need to get past this hurdle. I'll be there in the morning, and when I get thru with my 12 miles, I hope to have left my fear somewhere on the side of the road.

and some good news, my mom finally made it home!!! I talked to her last night when she arrived at the airport. Glad to have her home.
She brought the little bench I mentioned in yesterday's blog. My grandfather kept it and used it all these years. last time I saw him, he said I could bring it back when he was no longer here. Until then, he wanted me to loan it to him.
Now the bench is here, and suddenly I realize my grandfather is not coming back. It may just be wood, but he and I had a great bond and this piece of wood had a very special meaning for both of us.

I miss him.