Harlem Shake Keefe Style

These kids are the best. 

PsychoWyco 2013 Race Report

PsychoWyco - A Day Full of Firsts 

I don’t sleep well before races. The night before PsychoWyco, tossing and turning, insanely realistic dreams of saving the day, running endlessly and carrying my dog, looped through my mind at rapid clip. This is fairly normal for me and the more anticipation for the event the more likely I will wake up ten times or dream that I am waking up (those always mess with ya). Not to mention, I have a couple of young ones who love nothing more than to faint bad dreams or, insert any reason here, to come join Mom and Dad in bed. No California King in my room so it can get a little cramped (foreshadowing). By the time my alarm goes off at 6:15am I have been up for at least a half hour. Quick side note, my alarm on my phone says “Boston Marathon” as it vibrates the table. That is my personal kick in the pants to keep clarity in my running endeavors. I learned a lot at Boston in 2012 (DNF) and in 2014 I will be trying again. 

Then the ritual starts. 

1.      Take my vitamins and pound about a liter of water.

2.      Eat a banana.

3.      Make a peanut butter sandwich – forget to eat it.

4.      Get my band-aids on – feel like Lady Gaga.

5.      Recheck all gear for the tenth time.

6.      Load up my car.

There are countless reasons to love the Trail Nerds. Ben Holmes is a top notch Race Director, all the folks affiliated with the Trail Nerds bust their asses to create unique events, but for this report I want to focus on something that might not mean much to a lot of runners but it means the world to me. Nearly all the Trail Nerd events are dog friendly. What’s that you say? You can run with your dog. Yes, you read that correctly. While stroller friendly races plant a tiny seed in the little one getting pushed down the road, running with your dog requires equal support and participation. I also feel like it deepens the connection between animal and (wo)man and forces me to get out of myself and be wild. 

PsychoWyco has two flavors, the Psummer and the Winter. I believe the Winter is the original and the full name is the PsychoWyco Run Toto Run; dog friendly even in its naming convention, clever. It’s up to the runner to pick their poison. Would you like the ten mile, twenty mile, or thirty one mile punishment? I’ll take the thirty one please. The ten and twenty are actually longer than advertised by three or four tenths but who’s counting. For the record, this is the fourth time I have run this event and currently I am one for three in finishing. Last year, was the first time I actually finished the full 50K. The two prior attempts were marred by cramps and poor decision making. 

The course itself is a ten mile loop. This is not your ordinary loop in a park. Wyandotte County Lake Park, specifically the bridle trail, is like the path in the woods you find that you believe no one else knows about and it’s some secret playland for those of us who like getting lost in the woods. Imagine a birthday cake you would take into a prison. It looks nice and serene with woods as the icing and the trail as the swirls in the frosting. Oh it looks so good and tasty you just want to bite into it but not so fast. Once you dig in your realize this is where the files and shanks are located. Steep, brutal, thigh crushing hills that burn your muscles and cramp your will at every turn. Roots and branches and knots for foot paths to be traversed with focus and agility. Rocks, freaking loose rocks everywhere, making footfalls precarious and knees and hands and elbows bloody from the falls you will take and you will fall. It’s Kansas how hilly can it be? Well, it’s some bizarro world with 12,000 feet of elevation gain double that for decent (on the 50K) so that’s how hilly it can be jerks. Then, if that sound pleasurable, throw in some nasty conditions. Oh yeah, layer some ice on top of that cake and wash it down with a big glass of rain and it becomes nearly unrunnable at parts. 

As fate would have it and it has to be fate because we are in some godforsaken drought, it rained the weekend before then got cold enough to freeze, then warmed up and the rained some more on Wednesday. Full disclosure here, I have run all my PR’s regardless of distance in horrid conditions. I actually prefer nasty for the focus it brings. There is something about biting winds, torrential rains, and trails as loose old man stools, that make me want to run. What can I accomplish in this? What can I take? What am I made of? This is why I run. 

February 9^th, 2013 provided one slice of these conditions. The trail was sloppy. The first loop was okay due to an 8am start time and right around freezing temperatures. It was still a little soggy at points but mostly if not all runnable. Not the case for loop two and loop three was killer. I mean there were ropes, you know those things you tie shit up with, on a few of the hills just so you could get up them. Ropes people! A chorus of cursing and laughter echoed off the ridges and down into the valleys. I kept imagining that spook house carnival ride feel at points. Sign me up!

Oh my yellow dog. A little background on my fearless running companion, Charlotte Chocolate Milk Keefe. Ridiculous name, absolutely. Financial wealth is not really something I aspire to but being life rich is what I’m all about. I’ve watched the Kentucky Derby, I see the names of these horses, Sir Melodious MoneyMaker or Trixie’s Trotters Spells Fantastic. Insane. While horse ownership is not in my future I can name my dog something with the best of them. My last dog was Mango Margaret Salsa Keefe and Charlotte is the next in line for greatness. She is great. After Mango passed on I needed another dog to run with me. I enjoy the company of other runners and will twist the ear of those willing to run along but it’s hard to find someone who lives by me and is willing to run really far. Enter dogs. I found Charlotte doing a Google search of humane societies and lab rescues in my area. Faithful, good with kids, willing to run long distances are all characteristics of labs or lab mutts and my search was over.

The table has been set. You know the conditions for the race, the type of trail you will be gallivanting across and the ludicrousness of PsychoWyco. I know, I know get to the race already, calm down. I’ll be brief. At least in that previous sentence. The first loop started out well. I made the bold claim to the race director that my dog was going to set the canine course record and that I would appreciate it if we didn’t have to start in the back of the back. Normally, starting in the back with your dog is trail etiquette and it keeps a bit of the chaos at the starting line to a minimum. The RD was kind enough to make an announcement for the fast runners to come to the front and then pointed to us and said that dog is fast and will be starting up front as well. Talk about flattery. If you can’t tell I am living vicariously through my dog for this race and the RD basically called me fast. Yes! BLAAAAAAAA! The horn sounded and we were off. 

You have about a third of a mile to find your pace before you hit the first dive into the woods. The trail starts about two wide but there is really one ideal path to tread if you can file in. I had my own goal time for the race, attempting to sub five hours. That’s sort of a magical number at this race. If you sub five hours you get your entry fee back. Again, if you sub five you get your entry fee back. My personal best is a 5:06:ish and given the conditions my realistic goal was to get under whatever the canine course record was. I believe it was around 5:32:ish and even that was going to be a slog. Last year, when I set my PR it was ideal conditions. Freezing temperatures for the entire race, sunny, and a brick like trail availing itself to fast running and risk taking. By the time we hit the first aid station at the Triangle I knew we were in business. Charlotte was tugging and I was a bit hesitant to let her leash tether out much further due to the Triangle being a single track with tight switchbacks and sudden ups and downs so we played it cool. 

“Your dog is awesome.”

“Way to go pooch.” 

These were the common refrains from all the supporters and volunteers on the course. We came out of the other side of the Triangle way ahead of my ideal time in my head but I felt good so no need to stress on it. The way I run this trail is to keep a slow to moderate pace on the steeps and just bomb the downhills. Running with reckless abandon down the hills is the closest thing in my life to feeling just like that ten year old kid I once was running in the woods. This was really only possible on the first loop for me. The gentleman who set the course record, Scott Gall, how was also the first person to sub four hours must have been bombing everything which in my mind is nearly incomprehensible. The trial held up quite nicely I over the next six miles with Charlotte and I stopping at aid stations to fill up her collapsible bowl and grab a few goodies. People often ask me what I eat or hydrate with during these long runs. For races I like Succeed Caps made mostly of sodium and potassium, gu’s, and water. That’s what I normally carry. I have four ten ounce bottles strapped to my waist and usually go through all four in twenty miles. We ended the first loop in 1:26: .We were floating as me motored around the main shelter getting lifted by all the cheers. What fills me up more than anything when racing is encouragement. Positivity helps to keep the doubts from creeping in and doubting yourself leads to excuses.  

Loop two provides an entirely new experience and effort with a couple of new factors. The ten mile racers start one hour after the twenty and thirty one mile participants have taken off, so passing people safely becomes the name of the game. Again, course courteousness applies and the approaching runner should yell out, “on your left” and if possible the runner being passed should move to the right. Normally, this isn’t too difficult when flying solo but with a leashed dog and a soul sucking trail moving over becomes more challenging. Thankfully the vast majority if not all were happy to move over and since Charlotte normally passed them first they would start to smile, laugh and tell her good job. A few people threw in a, “you too” and seeing people smile made me smile. Passing in the Triangle was even more daring than usual but the advantage for me in this section is you can normally see Charlotte and I coming before we get up behind you. We stopped coming out of that section to refuel grab some bacon and snacks for Charlotte and I pounded an extra bit of water. Many coaches will tell you to sip sip sip and I did my best but when you get really thirsty sometimes you just have to chug a little. The potential is there to pay for it later but mentally it’s what I needed. Right before you get to the “Fall Down Hill” section (do I really need to explain this section?) I saw my wife. She was running the ten mile race and was looking great. She lost her trail virginity at the Psychopathic 5K Ice Edition a few weeks prior but this was the full deflowering. The full ten is no joke for a first timer and she was holding her own. I yelled out to her to see how she was doing and slowed down to say hello. I asked if she needed anything, she gave Charlotte a pet and we were off again. That was pretty cool. It the first time we have really ever raced together and it boosted my spirits once again. 

Charlotte and I jumped the drainage ditch coming out of “Fall Down Hill” and started up the “Dam Hill” or “Damn Hill”. It’s a pretty brutal stretch. Nearly a mile uphill the entire time, you get some pavement but don’t let that fool you, you crest what you believe is the end after you pass the dam aid station but not so fast, the grade just increases again before you push back into “Speed Ridge”. I do want to back up one second; I mentioned jumping the drainage ditch, that is how I also gauge how I am feeling. If I can jump it my confidence stays high. If I walk it, then I know it’s going to start getting really hard. Well, you push back into the woods at the top of the dam and I only partially bombed that next downhill. There are ominous warning signs that say “SLOW DOWN” and you should. It gets slick, steep and twisty and if you motor in too fast you will bust it for sure. You come out of that section and start up “Misery Ridge” aren’t these names great. This was the roped section and you needed it. The trail had gotten so muddy and slippery that you could not get up those hills without pulling hand over hand up the ropes. Try that while holding a leash it gets tricky. At the top of the ridge I got my first calf cramp and it snuck up fast. When I cramp it’s normally in my quads and I have been wearing calf compression sleeves for the past few months and they seem to really help. I pushed the cramps out of my mind and decided I would just deal with it. I think I was surprised because I thought the S-Caps would prevent that from happening and I thought I had been killing some water but nonetheless cramps were happening. Charlotte and I were keeping a good pace anyway and I knew if we could come around in about three hours we would have a shot at subbing five hours. 

With about a mile and a half to go in the second loop I encountered the only time I got pissed during the race. Maybe a year ago a big tree fell across the single track and this strange detour was created. It’s a really quick down and up from a feeder stream to the lake. At this point it was a wreck, very muddy and required stopping and making sure you crossed it carefully. Charlotte and I came up on this section and there was a woman getting ready to scramble down and up and she saw us and told us to go ahead. A quick glance up we noticed a young man coming back to ask if anyone needed help. Man, these trail peeps are nice and thoughtful. “We’re okay, my dog can do it easy,” I said as we approached laughing. He then proceeds to help the woman and say’s to her, “it must be its cheating.” I’m going to get on my high horse here for a minute. I was so close to stopping turning around and telling him to go f himself but I didn’t want to jeopardize OUR race and in hindsight I don’t believe he really meant it. I would be a fool if I didn’t think that some people see an advantage of having a dog leashed to your hand when traversing these hills and there probably is at times. It’s also hard as hell to continually tug her back close, unwind her when she breaks off around a tree, and pay attention to both of us the entire race. It’s hard and if we are cheating in some minds, I don’t really give a shit. I apologize for the language and hostility. 

We hit the end of the second loop right around three hours and I realized we had a chance to accomplish both of our goals. At this point people were finishing the twenty miler and ten miler so lots of people were erupting with yells and support. I should have stopped and chowed for a minute but that shot of adrenaline had us motoring around and out for loop three. Then came the first wall. We entered the woods to start the loop and had to walk a hill we ran both times previously. My pace was falling rapidly and I thought I was in trouble. Last year, I had a fellow trail nerd pace me on the last loop and that helped considerably. This time it was just Charlotte and I and she can’t yell at me to pick it up. I was traveling down the dark corners of my mind and that’s no place you should go alone. The trail at this point is horrible. With some many feet having covered it you couldn’t even get to an edge to try to find footing. The heels of my shoes started getting sucked into the muck and nearly came off on countless steps. Charlotte on the other hand is just sticking right next to me at this point. She could sense my troubles and was sticking by my side. When we finally hit the Triangle aid station for the last time I started to really eat. I was so hungry. Gu’s and water were just not cutting it. M&M’s, Gatorade, Coca - Cola, and bacon were being downed by the mouthful. Coca – Cola is the sweet nectar of the gods on these ultras. When we made it out of the Triangle we chowed again, dog and I. This seemed to really help. My spirits lifted and before I knew it we were back at the bottom of the dam. We walked the drainage ditch. Shit. 

We did manage to run nearly the entire “Dam Hill” which unlike previous years I have never been able to do during the third loop. I was checking my watch at this point and I was hoping we could make it to the “four mile to go” sign with forty eight minutes left. That would give us twelve minute miles and that seemed doable. Well doable until we hit the roped section and misery ridge. It was so hazardous at this point that you could easily slip and fall down the ravine. That is not something I take lightly considering if you fall hard and far enough you could die. That may sound a bit outlandish but if you nail your head who knows what could happen. We had to walk much of that entire section. The cramps hit at the top of the ridge much like loop two but they were in both calves at this point. Running was still possible but it was more of a jog. Bombing the hills was over because the risk wasn’t worth the reward. The quick twitch and nimble footing had been replaced with heavy feet and slow reactions. Not your ideal combination for racing down muddy shoots. 

I’m checking my watch at every half mile sign. I must have been doing thirteen minute averages because with two to go we had around twenty minutes left. We were approaching the “Three Hills” section that wraps up the end of the loop and at that point I was resigned to not subbing five. That can be a bit discouraging mentally but I knew I was going to beat my PR of 5:06:ish and I also knew that Charlotte was going to smash the canine course record. I also felt that given the circumstances of the trail to beat my PR was a noble accomplishment. The best way to describe the “Three Hills” section is gnarly. The first hill goes on forever and is incredibly steep. You are sliding backward on every step. I couldn’t run it at all and had to start the death march. You get to the top of the madness and say thank you to whatever you believe in and head back down, then up another bruiser and then back down and then up one final time. With a half mile to go I needed to run a 00:03:30 minute half mile to sub five and that wasn’t even a remote possibility. At the top of the last hill before you head down to the finish you hit this nice clearing. I straightened up as best I could because I knew Dick Ross was going to be taking our picture and a dude has to look good. Thankfully, my wife and kids were already gone to a birthday party so they would not be at the finish when I crossed. I’m not one to get overly emotional for much but finishing a difficult race combined with seeing the loves of my life just triggers something inside me that I can’t control. I almost always cry. My oldest always asks my wife, “why is Daddy crying?” She replies, “Because he is so happy.” 

We crossed the finish line in 5:02:56. My personal best and a killer canine course record for Charlotte. As Ben Holmes put the medals around both of our necks and confirmed she set the record all I could so was smile. Dick did his best impression of what the paparazzi must be like and Charlotte and I walked over to my car. Charlotte drank some water and jumped into the back and sat there smiling. I peeled off my shoes, sleeves, shirt and headband and enjoyed the moment. 

Charlotte Chocolate Milk Keefe, champion. 

In the words of George Michael, "you gotta have faith".

You only get one first time for everything. Today, for the first time, little Al started our morning prayer by herself as we were pulling out of the driveway. For nearly seven years, I have been driving one of our little girls to the Early Education Center at St. Therese and during that time we have said the same prayer every morning. It's a prayer my mom and I made up when I was just a little kid and I have been saying it religiously since that time. 

I am no different than you. I struggle with faith and belief and religion and will do so until the day I die and that's okay. At the same time I believe it's my responsibility to teach my children that prayer can be an important part of their lives. Not a crutch to use when you feel weak but a tool you can use to focus on the positives in our lives and not the negatives. One line from our prayer is this, "thank you God for our blessings, for our home, our food, our clothes, our health we are very fortunate and understand that there are many people out there who don't have these things, and need help." 

I guess what I'm trying to do is provide some perspective into what prayer can be and how it can keep us centered and grounded. It doesn't always work. Last week Ruby told me that we only do "free" stuff. Talk about a shot in the gut. She's no dummy and at six years old can already see the differences between people economically. My kids have no needs that go unmet, but they certainly have wants that do. I'm okay with that. 

I have faith that if I can instill in my kids an attitude of gratitude then, as the cultural influences that I can't control that are blasted repeatedly into their consciousness, they have the foundation in giving thanks and not in asking for more. I have faith in that. 

Coaching U7 Girls Soccer

Three games deep into the early season of soccer and my head is exploding from rapid learning and improvement that we are making. The difference in a few of my players from game one to game three is staggering. For the first time in a few years I have a girl who is brand new to the game. Meaning she has NEVER played organized soccer before. While I confess I was a bit nervous having a relative novice on the team who potentially might make mistakes that lead to goals against us my fears have been assuaged. I understand that rediculous to think that parents or other players on the team might get upset if someone messes up but these kids care. I have kids who WANT to play defense instead of trying to score goals because they believe they can stop anyone from scoring. Think about that for a minute. I have numerous kids who truly believe they can influence the game and help us win by playing defense. If you asked 100 seven year olds how they can win a soccer game I bet 95 of them would say by scoring the most goals and five would say by not letting any go in against us. I have almost five of those girls on a team of eleven.

As much as I would like to, I can't take credit for that but what I can take credit for is increasing the level of enthusiasm for defense. If one of the kids is in the back and doesn't allow anyone to score of get by them for the half a quarter they are on defense we celebrate it like they just scored a goal. We and this includes the other main coach and the parents yell just as loud for a strong defensive play as we do for a goal. That is the key. If all the love and glory goes to the strikers you are going to have team of wannabe strikers. If you can get them excited to get the ball out of your end or make a pass out to a teammate then when you ask who wants to play defense you get five hands up instead of no hands up.

These girls bring it. 

Ready, Get Set, Go!

After nearly three months of practicing, kicking the ball in the side yard, going to SportingKC games and generally jonesing for the games to start we kicked off the U7 season in style on Saturday morning. I say in style because the girls are all matching for the first time ever. My Bad News Bears outfitting normally leads to us wearing three different types of white jerseys with varying shorts and socks that look straight out of Helen Keller's drawers. Not this year. All eleven girls are wearing matching tops, matching shorts, and all different numbers. After two years of trying I've finally learned how to successful iron on jersey numbers without messing them up. Ruby no longer has to wear a jersey with what appears or is a backwards two.

"What number is that Dad, she asks?"
"That's a five Ruby."
"Are you sure? I think it's supposed to be a two and you did it wrong."
"Didn't you have a bad vision test last time?"
"You messed up Dad and I have to wear that one again."

That's normally how that discussion goes. Not this fall, we are looking good. We are playing good too. Like most leagues it was a little mismanaged at first. We are supposed to play 4v4 with no goalie and the coaches on the sideline. Somehow the game before us was 4v4 with goalies and the coaches on the field. The other coach and I asked if we could go without the goalie and be on the field. That sounded great to me. While I trust they will be in the right places a little extra coaching doesn't hurt. We needed that extra coaching as well. It took us about a quarter to shake the rust off and remember how to play. We were losing 2-1 at the end of the first quarter and for once I played it cool. I mentioned we need to do a better job of staying in our positions and that somebody, anybody has to at least attempt to play defense. You see, the glory of goal scoring has infiltrated my entire team. I only have two girls who want to play defense, my daughter and my defensive powerhouse Anna. My daughter only wants to play it because she thinks no one can score when she is back there so she does it only because she sees believes we won't lose. Anna on the other hand actually loves commanding the back half of the field. She loves to slam the ball with huge kicks and defense affords her that opportunity. Anyway, by the end of the second quarter we were winning 3-2 I believe.

Halftime! Hot damn you would never thought these girls had eaten a orange wedge in their lives. This is the first year where we actually have a five minute halftime so we are introducing the halftime snack into the game. Orange wedges were the traditional halftime snack of my youth and being the first snack bringer I wanted to keep that alive. They mowed them down like a Bin Laden Headshot at the air rifle booth during Parkville Days. One girl looked at me wide eyed while chowing down and said, "coach Ben where did you get these oranges?" She was completely flabbergasted. Like in all of her seven years on the planet she had never tasted an orange that was so good. I was like, "Sun Fresh."

Oh behold the power of something new and a little natural sugar. They came out like their hair was on fire. When the final whistle blew we had tallied nine goals to four. It could have been worse but we called off the dogs as best we could. My wife could see me beaming before the game was even over. The girls managed to make at least five assists on those goals and the only mistake we had was of my doing and it was so the other team could get the ball back.

I could go on and on but practice and consistency is paying off. I love these kids.

Why Winning the Lamar Hunt US Open Cup Matters

I like to write letters, emails, blogs, and lots of other literary things so yesterday, as I basked in the glow of Sporting Kansas City winning the Lamar Hunt US Open Cup, I wrote a letter Soren Petro and Kevin Kietzman of Sports Radio 810 WHB. Soren had posed the question of what does winning the US Cup mean. I thought I should tell them. 

Hello Mr. Petro & Mr. Kietzman, 

Today on Petro's show he asked, "what does winning the US Cup mean?" That is a great question. In the soccer world it does mean something in regards to getting to play in the CONCACAF Champions League. That is a big deal in terms of measuring yourself against the best clubs in North and Central America. If being "world champions" is the highest achievement in sport than I would argue that winning that tournament is even bigger than the MLS Cup. Regardless, I don't think that is really why it is meaningful. 

Personally, I am not a big fan of pro football, pro basketball, or pro baseball but I do love the college versions of those sports. Why? Because they do it for the love of the game or at least 95% of them who won't play in the pros do it for the love of the game. Why do so many people love Michael Jordan, Tiger Woods, Pete Rose, etc, etc, because in your heart you believe that even if they weren't playing for money they would die if they lost. They just want to win because they LOVE the game.The reason I'm turned off by professional sports is because I think they play the game because it's a job and not for the love. That may be wrong, but they are playing a GAME. I mean I would love to play a game to make a living. So you would think if you are playing a game regardless of the level you would LOVE it. My perception is that many pros don't LOVE it and my perception is my reality. 

Last night, I was in the Cauldron for nearly six hours, singing and dancing, with my wife and two young girls (7 & 4 years old, don't judge me on what they hear we are their parents and it's our job to explain and parent them the best I can and this is another discussion entirely and I don't want to digress to far) it was one of the most amazing sporting experience of my life. The SportingKC players are accessible, we have met them at events and got autographs, we get responses to them when we message them on Facebook and Twitter, they post messages about how excited they are before they go out and PLAY. At this point many of them make $100K to $500K now, so they are getting paid very well but not so much that it completely removes them from the "real" world. They come over to the Cauldron after every game and clap for US, win or lose. You see the pain and joy in their faces and it's real. 

I have attached a picture of my oldest last night after WE won the Cup. She was in heaven. Those are tears of joy. She was so excited. The players came over, some were crying, CRYING because they won, grown men behind me were crying because WE won. The players, owners, sales dudes, security guards (which by the way we know their names) players families, ball boys, ushers, cops, food service, all feel like they are PART of it. That somehow they had a hand in it. The management of the club writes letters to the fans telling them that they want to win this for you. 

This win has meaning because when those 18,000 people left last night a large part of them felt like they were part of something special, something that has been lacking in the sports/entertainment here in Kansas City. It has meaning because like you said Mr. Petro, the owners said they were going to do it and did everything they could to make it happen. It meaningful because we feel like we have an actual partnership with them. The ownership recognizes the fact that we pay good money and spend loads of time, that we could spend on other avenues and in return they bust their ass to make it happen. Do you think Mr. Hunt or Mr. Glass really cares about winning or losing or making money? I'm sure they care about winning but I'm sure they care a whole heck of a lot more about making money. Believe I'm no Polly Anna and am not foolish enough to think that Mr. Patterson or Mr. Illig aren't interested in making money, they are businessmen and this is a business but they seem to care about winning and that's meaningful. 

I asked my daughter why she was so excited, she said it's because WE won. She said it was the best day of her life. As a Dad, and both of you are, when your kid tells you that you just had a hand in making the best day of their life, even if she's only seven, that has a ton of meaning to me and they just made a season ticket holder for life and that means something to Sporting. 

I've never called in but I listen everyday. You both do a tremendous job at a very difficult job and I want to say thanks for talking about soccer more this year than ever before.

 

That my friends is what it's all about. 

One Daring Act Today - A New Habit

"Do every day or two something for no other reason than that you would rather not do it, so that when the hour of dire need draws nigh, it may find you not unnerved and untrained to stand the test." William James "Habit".

My daughter Ruby and I were reading a book two nights ago called, If You're So Smart, How Come You Can't Spell Mississippi? by Barbara Esham. It's a fantastic book and we really enjoyed it. In the book it references the above quote. The author takes some liberty with the quote so it's a bit easier for a six year old to understand but the message remains the same. This led to a pretty fantastic conversation between my daughter and I and it also led us to starting a new habit ourselves. We both are going to try to do something difficult everyday and then report back to each other at dinner.

Yesterday, we tried our first go at this and it was a fantastic. I want to do my best to relay exactly how the conversation went.

"So Ruby did you do anything hard today?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied.

"What was it?"

"I ran in the back yard as fast as I could and didn't step on any dog poop," she said being completely serious. Then she added, "and that was really hard because there is a lot of poop out there."

Wow, owned by my six year old. She later told me I really need to pick the poop up. We are both really excited about this new thing we can share together and in a round about way she is making herself ready for when the going does get tough.