I WON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Before I got my job with Mizuno, I entered an essay contest to win a pair of Innov8 shoes. I was telling my brother about it, as I mulled through the prose.
"Don't you always wear Mizunos and doesn't Kelley help you out with the shoes?"
"Yes, but the winners get published in Trail Runner magazine."
The light goes on.
"Ah, it's about your writing."
After I sent in my entry I called my brother back.
"I'm going to win. There's no way I won't win."
Yes. 11 years in journalism. My first award winning piece!
Ironic.
Just as I change careers.

And I'm excited to try the shoes. Conflict of interest with my current job selling running shoes for Mizuno? No. Instead, research. I can't wait to see how they stack up against our incredible new shoe, the Cabrakan, (means Aztek god of mountain and earthquake) that hits the market this September.

Trail Runner, published the final portion of the essay.

Here it is in it's entirety.

ONE YEAR OF RUNNING THE MUD
By, Sophia Wharton
Aka: Original Mud Babe

It was a dark and stormy morning. The choices were: stay in bed with someone you love, or get up and run in the mud. We made the right choice, it was, after all close to my one year anniversary of running in the mud. A mighty group of 6 slipped and slided for 13 miles on the rocky rooty, and very muddy trails of Clinton Lake in Lawrence, KS. The forecast was for a high of 55. The forecast was wrong. It was chilly. Bad Ben, of Kansas City Trail Nerd fame, realized it was too cold for his Ice Breaker shirt alone, and pulled a trash bag out of the back of his Honda Element and put it on.
“Look it’s Bag Ben.” Another pun for me, Sophia. Yup, I love puns, especially when they go with running in the mud. After my first ooey gooey muddy run last spring, one of the other Trail Nerd women and I decided to team up for a 44 mile relay from Kansas City to Lawrence called Brew to Brew. There was a contest for clever team names.
“Hey Coleen!” I was on the phone with her. “I just registered us as ‘Bad Ben’s Mud Babes.’ Is that ok with you?”
“Hell yes! I love mud!”
Bad Ben decided the name was too cute for a one -time thing, and now the Trail Nerd women are all Mud Babes. A movement within a movement was born. Really, what woman wants to be a nerd? And mud is so squishy and fun, plus it really cools your feet down on those hot July days. Like during Psycho Psummer 50k. I was hot, and running again with Coleen who we dubbed “Cynical Mud Babe. “
We were schlocking through a combo of deep mud and horse poo, grateful for tightly laced shoes. We came upon another woman digging a lost shoe out of the mud. She laughed as she saw us.
“Well, I guess now I can buy the Mud Babe T-shirt!”
“You’ve earned it. And we’re the two Mud Babes in the picture!”
As we slipped and slided along I was so hot, I wanted to just sit down in the mud, but resisted that. Instead, I tried something new psychologically uplifting.
“Coleen come back!”
I was standing in mud up to my ankles. When she got beside me, I leaned down, grabbed a finger of mud and painted a muddy heart on her arm. She did the same for me, and the Mud Tats were born.

Smiley faces for guys. Arms in summer, cheeks (on faces) in the winter. It’s tribal bonding at it’s best. After all, nothing quite says “We love you, and accept you,” to a new runner like a muddy heart. And although I only have the science of my experience to back this up, you do run faster with a Mud tat.
One day, I’d fallen back from the pack and was running alone. I needed a pick me up, so I made some mud with my water and painted a smiley face on my arm. I call that, mudsterbation.
“Sophia that smiley face is working.” I’d caught up to James the Trail Nerd lawyer, and was about to leave him in the dust. I suggested his own mud tat instead.
But this was really child’s play compared with my run with Superhero Mudbabe Debbie Webster at Mud and Muck. A 5 k with a full fledged mud pit crawl. We finished and went back for more. More mud, more fun and many, many mud tattoos. Including one on photographer Dick Ross’s bald head. We laughed, we ran, we played. We spanked James, as it was his 38th birthday, that day.
(Trail Runner chose this final piece. Which was the clincher, I knew would land me the prize)
Yes, I love running in the mud so much the words have become interchangeable. It has been a little over a year I’ve been running in the mud. Last March, I sent Bad Ben a text message. My hand was shaking a little, but I pressed “send.”
“Are you falling in mud with me?”
“Yes.” Was the reply.
“Mud U.”
“Mud U, too.”
So, from running in the mud a great love was born.

Flying MudBabes

I've written a lot about ultra marathons and running farther. But often the best things in life come in smaller packages. Sometimes life is so good, it just seems like you're flying. That was the case at the Psummer Intro 5k (well 2.8 miler). That's my awesome mudbabe buddy Shelley Flones. She was flying pretty high too. Before the race, we both got a generous sprinkling of fairy dust from Peter Pan (Bad Ben) and as you can see it was working wonders. Maybe it was excitement that so many people showed up. 106, compared with 60 last year. Yes the Trail Nerd message of inclusivity and love of nature and maturity is quite inspiring.



While we joke that we want world domination, mostly we just want






people to have a great quality of life, through running on trails. Maybe I was flying because it was my first spin in the new Wave Cabrakan. I just got a sweeeeeeeeet job working as a territory
manager for Mizuno USA in the running division.

I talked my way into wear testing the Cabrakan that comes out in September. Right now the shoes are just headed out to the top running magazines, so it was quite an honor. They feel great. A FLEXIBLE rock plate in the front. Great traction, and an incredible soft feel-- and I was, as you can see FLYING. No lying. Flying. I will post more on the incredible possibilities these shoes hold for runners soon.










So was it sole, or soul that made me run 3 minutes faster than last year, despite less training. Maybe it was a little acknowledged phenomenon. Borrowed energy. Hmm..or maybe it was that Shelley (a bit of a Tinkerbell) had some fairy dust of her own.

On this day she was quite the leader. Check out the Run Posse!!


She's the Flying Mudbabe. She won the Rock Creek 10k and ran an impressive 24:15 on this day. I was close behind, but ahem... felt the call of nature and tinkled on the trail. Wow, then I really felt light as a feather.




















I'm allowed a certain budget for promotion of running through my job as a territory manager for Mizuno. Since the Trail Nerds and Mud Babes are unquestionably the most dynamic running group in KC, I've decided to sponsor them. I gave out t-shirts to folks running in the Wave Ascend (another great trail shoe) and our awesome Maverick short (has a zipper pocket) to two of the female finishers.

There were other pockets of energy in this race.

Fast Andy. Andy Henshaw. Broke the Brew to Brew record running 44 miles on a windy nasty day at about a 7 minute pace. Uber volunteer, willing to get off the couch the night before a race and redo a mile of trail that's been demarked by an overzealous 4 year old on a walk with her underzealous when it comes to discipline parents. I might mention he was getting up at 5 the next morning to come and volunteer for 18 hours at the Free State marathon.

This day we had the Andy effect: "Follow fast Andy!" "Andy's going to win!" "Go Andy, Go!" He was proudly wearing his Trail Nerd shirt, lovingly soiled with dirt from many races and happy falls in the woods.











But leaders aren't always in the front.

Sometimes they are in the middle. oops cut in half.













Sometimes they are in the back. Bad Ben was leading his son Matt. I call him "The Young Mr. Holmes." Matt calls himself "Son of a Ben," proud to be the son of a great man and leader. It is after all father's day weekend.


Right after Free State, Ben and I were having a conversation. Matt had just spent time before, during and after the race schlepping, hauling and without ever, EVER whining helping with the race.







"Sophia, Matt wants to run a race with me."





"No problem, do Intro to Psummer. I'll race direct." I had just gotten a first hand (and one that I sought out and enjoyed) view of what it takes to put on a successful, organized, can survive any disaster--even a tornado--race.

But..... then I got hired by Mizuno. I wasn't going to have time.
"I'm not going to get to run with Matt."

Enter Shane and Brandy Jones. Sometimes leaders are at the finish line. Or at home, tirelessly entering the results for 106 runners.











Ben brought up the rear with Matt.






Sometimes leaders are at the very back of the pack.






I was talking to a lady after the race.
"Oh that's YOUR Ben? Oh please tell him thank you, thank you so much for encouraging me and my friend. This was my first ever trail run, and I so appreciated it. Give him a hug for me."











Muddy sweaty hug.














So what are the Trail Nerds about? Leaders. Everywhere. In front, in the middle, at home, and sometimes most importantly bringing up the rear.











Happy, happy Muddy Hugs to everyone.

Sophia

Stefanie

Way back... almost a year ago I posted a blog about all of my amazing girlfriends, and how supportive they were of me in an incredibly devastating time in my life.

It's been amazing to watch how they've evolved through the past 10 or so months. One is Stefanie.

I helped mentor her for her first 8k. Kept her from going out too fast, and kept her company. When you run long distances, maybe an 8k doesn't seem so far--but it's all about perspective. For her, a sprinter, it was the longest she'd ever run.

In April, she ran the Oklahoma City half marathon in 2 hours and change.

Yesterrday, I got a text from her.
"Man I just ran 9.6 miles in 80 minutes! If it weren't for u i would have never been able to do that or want to run at all. Hope all is well mud u!"

It's so nice to be appreciated, especially when it's from someone you know you can trust to be there for you, too.

I'll get pictures up later.

Running running and running

I love running.
I was so happy to be back running on a trail at Rockin' K.
It was a joy and honor to help Ben with Free State and see and hear the appreciation of the runners and their families.
I'm really excited about the trail building we're doing at Wyco, and the mojo Ben has created by teaming up with the Earth Riders. (great vision).
I am so thankful for the true friendships I've encountered in life.
I am grateful the future is looking very, very bright and full of love, running and prosperity.
I have a new job, where I can run everyday and help people explore their running and live better quality lives.

So many of my prayers have been answered. It feels good to be blessed.
Muddy Hugs,
Sophia

rockin original

I can't believe how far behind I am on my blog. Somehow, I've been more busy as an unemployed member of society. I've found myself on numerous committees, quite a few short lists to help out friends, and very happily on many "A" lists of friends new and old.

Pretty proud to be on Julie Toft and Debbie Webster's "A" list. Julie was signed up for Rockin' K, but got stuck on an out of town, airport terminal, crap infested work assignment the weekend of the race. She offered me up her cowtag ( I love that this race gives us cowtags to traipse through the literal, cowpaths!) for what it cost to switch ($45). Saweeet!!! Did I mention I'm unemployed?!! Then she didn't even let me pay her that. Mud U, Julie.

Wait... backtrack.

"Hey Sophia, it's Debbie.. see if Ben will lend you to me over the weekend for Rockin' K."

"Yikes. We have all this Brew to Brew stuff to do. " (blog on that to follow--yeah I am REALLY behind) I hated to have him suffer alone with the paved race packet pick-up. Not Ben's favorite. Still, I know how important Brew to Brew is. A fundraiser for Cystic Fibrosis (horrid disease) but also one of the Kansas City Track Club's most important events. The group and Lou Joline believed in Ben's vision creating the Trail Nerds. They have been great and supportive team members for our group. I didn't want to let them down.

"Tell Ben I'll work all day Sunday at the aid station at Brew to Brew, if he lets you go."

It was an easy sell.

Oh my dear Ben. I love you. love you , love you so much for never resenting me when I get to go run with our friends on beautiful trails. Even when you have to be responsible and take care of the hand (KCTC) that feeds us. Oh I was excited... so excited!

I hadn't raced since November 27th.

"Sophia, where have you been? Why aren't you racing?" An email from Rick Mayo in February. I seriously ran into him before this race.

" Hey I'm back, I'm back!!" His beautiful wife Kristi was there with their equally beautiful daughter. Great to see them...... hmmm.. where were the other boys from Kearny? (find out more here at Gabe's Blog)

Wait... backtrack.

Carpool/Nerd-Mud Babe motorcade to the race.

Everyday's party in Sophie's World.

I met up with Debbie, we loaded up the truck with muddy shoes, snacks etc? Actually an impressive stash for a weekender. Two doesn't constitute much of a carpool. Read on.

I had 6 nerds to coordinate. Two cars right? Ended up with three. Two people per car right? Nope. 4 in one car and one each in two others. Jim wanted to multi-task and work on the way (admirable actually) and Greg had a different "bailout after the race schedule," since he was doing 50 miles.

On the way out we lent Shane Jones to Greg for company, and in retrospect should have put James T. in with Jim since he spent the majority of the trip glued to his cell phone. Meanwhile, Debbie and I did our best to distract James by rockin' out to her latests favorite country song. We'd made a quick stop at Target in Lawrence to grab James and Shane. I got a battery put in one of Ben's old watches. And got teased by Shane for my super cool Timex. Shuddup Shane (tease back) it only cost $10. Did I mention I'm unemployed?!!

So the motorcade looked like this:

In Car 1: Jim Megerson and phone

In Car 2: Debbie, me, James, phone and country tunes

In Car 3: Shane and Greg having a bro-mance

Meatballs, meatballs, meatballs!

The pre-race dinner and meeting Stacy Sheridan was awesome! I'm not sure God could put more positive energy in one woman. Muddy hug! Oh I love that lady.

A fun positive to being so RIDICULOUSLY far behind on my blog is perspective. Here's one. Take a look at Laurie Euler's plate of meatballs. Paired with her race report peppered with self deprecating humor that she couldn't poo. That's a lot of blockage. Her dear boyfriend Nick (the garbage disposal--eats like Michael Phelps) had stopped in and partook at our firm invitation of our breakfast spread. Watermelon, displayed in the ice container (presentation is so important) and peanut butter bagels.

"Hey does Laurie want anything?"

"Not a fan of mornings."

She was already in the Nick's car. Next time take us up on the peanut butter Laurie! It works wonders. No promises... but maybe it would help with the Poo!

Shane and James pop into our room, on time-- thanks guys. We start shoving food in their faces. Coffee coffee! I'd hopped across the street and gotten some marginal brown brew from the convenience store.

"I'm not too good in the morning." Shane.

boom chicka boom chicka la la twang.

"I love this song! This is my favorite song right now!"CMT was on the television. Yup, while other runners were catching up on the latest weather forecast for the day, Debbie and I were tuned into the Country Music Channel. "I will run to you-oo -oo. I will run to you."We sang and danced in unison.

"Sorry, I don't think it's that great a song."

Shuddup Shane. (teasing)

On the way to the race we discussed our post race strategy.

"Shane why don't you run with my key fob since you'll finish WAY ahead of all of us."

We all concurred this was the best plan.

boom chicka boom chicka la la twaaaang.

"What? wait? not this song again?"

I turned around to Shane.

"We bought the CD at Target so we can hear it whenever we want. C'mon it says "run" in the chorus!"

"ugh."

Even James seemed a little irritated.

"I will run to you!" We sang at the top of our lungs.Played it twice.

Radio after that. Hard dude rock. This time everyone was singing.

THE RACE:

Fear. For this race, I knew I had to follow all the rules. Respect the distance, respect your body, listen to the signs. I can't even say I was on the Megerson constant taper. (25-30 miles per week max, year round). I was quite simply out of shape. January and February had been total running busts. I hadn't raced since November. Would my body remember what to do?

"Ben, what should I expect for a time on this one? I am so undertrained."

5:30 to 6:30. Ben knew the course and has run it in several different fitness levels. I looked down at my "new," watch and wondered what it would read at the end of the race.

Anxiety. I shared it with Debbie.

"I can't make any mistakes. I am going to have to be militant about salt, food, water, wardrobe.. everything." I packed a drop bag for the first time ever. Mostly I wanted a labelled place to leave my Mizuno stretch crew in the middle of the race so I could start out warm and comfy at the beginning. I threw in my inhaler. (Performance enhancing drugs according to Mr. Megerson!)

"We are making a mistake right now."

Debbie and I were chatting away like school girls on a slumber party. But somehow it worked out. We were relaxed and at least slept well for the few hours we got.

Before the race, Stacy Sheridan came a lookin for me.

"Sophia..Sophia there you are!" great big hug. "ooops I forgot I had to sign in. I'm here."

Then I was running. Running in the breathtaking splendor of Kanopolis State park. I felt free at last. I came up upon Coleen and Deb Johnson after taking a break to water a bush. Btw, an interesting experience with 40 mph winds and little to block it.

I chimed in a hello and tried to make conversation, but there was also very little to block the angry hostility and seething silence of Coleen. I can't tell you how many tears I've shed for the loss of this friendship. It was a friendship based on discovery of ultra running, laughter, watermelon and oranges. I loved having her as a friend. I miss her. In the past few months, sometimes we'd end up on the same group run and chat and chat. Tap dancing over the rocks and the taboo subject. Not anymore. Hardly a hello. Glares. Daggers. Hurtful taunting. Accusations. Gossip. Denial. It is truly painful.

The tears would fill a small tub if they ever made it there. Instead their salty stream burns and stings the wounds, many of which are 9 months deep. I hate to even have this passive mention here, but each time I think we could be approaching repair, something happens. The knife turns, the wound is exposed, the tears sink deep within.

On this day, the salt is from sweat, not tears. Instead of crying, I will run. And if I'm to run in silence, I'd prefer it be pure. I charge ahead and run alone.

13.1 Coke, Mountain Dew. Ah, blessed aid station. Oranges. Shane???

"Shane what are you doing here."

"Look at that? I feel like quitting."

I'd caught up with Shane who was grumpy because Kyle and Tony were 5 and a half brutal miles ahead of him.

"c'mon run with me!"

I was so excited. Seeing Shane truly energized me, because it meant I was running pretty well. I should have grabbed the key though. I actually finished a few minutes ahead of him.

This is where the race got interesting. Serious climbs. Ran into Willie from Great Plains Running. Muddy hug. Trotted along. Took pictures. Made a little video interview with Willie. Got back to the aid station. Dropped of the shirt. Took my performance enhancing drugs, and carried on.

pa-thunk--- pa-thunk. Yup. That's the sound your running makes when you're being blown sideways. A first. And with a step up because of the deeply rutted horse trail. But it didn't bother me. Many have described the wind at soul sucking. Instead it was like Narnia, with Aslan breathing trail running life back into this emotionaly weary Mud Babe.

I took it all in. Deeply. Honestly. Forever. I was back in my beautiful world. Completely.

Around 21 I caught up with a fellow named John from Minnesota. We couldn't talk much because the wind was so loud. I didn't get a chance to talk to him after either so I want to thank him here. I was tired of running alone. Thanks for waiting for me at the top of a hill at mile 22. I was ready just to drop back. It was nice to know someone wanted to run with me. Even just for a few miles.

Finish line: 5:31. More hugs from Stacy Sheridan who I promise a mud tattoo at Free State.

Shane finished.

Coleen, Debbie and Deb J. finished.

I had watermelon left over from breakfast. Maybe, just maybe Coleen would like some? Nope. I try to walk up to the group and offer. But get the side of the head. Laughter to all the other women and exclusion. Female bullying.

It's ok. While it's more fun to share delicious watermelon with a friend, it still tastes good running alone.

Muddy Hugs,

Sophia

Personal Day!

I was dragging. It was as if no amount of sleep could ever be enough. Monday two weeks ago, it was a slow start to my day. Very slow. I had an appointment at noon in Topeka, and I just couldn't seem to get going.

Then the phone rang.
"Sophia, I'm on my way over to Nieman."
My friend Cindy. Ben calls her "Strap-on Cindy." She's beautiful, energetic, and somewhat confused. Today she was overwhelmed as well.
"Cindy, I'm already late, I'm on my way out the door."
"Sophia, please just go in to the office and get my records. Scott (the apartment manager) hates me. I'm trying to prove residency for Missouri plates."
Cindy used to live at Nieman, and left on bad terms because her dog Tucker, peed all over the carpet. After a quick heart to heart about accountability, she admitted the dog had in fact made quite the stinky mess, and that they did have a right to be upset. I really like our apartment management, so that was important. She apologized, when she got there to Dayna. Scott wasn't working.

Unfortunately, the records were no where.
"I have had two meltdowns today."
Cindy pulled out 4 pages of instructions from different courthouses, she'd had to visit to get the proper documentation for the plates. A four course meal if you will?
"Hey do they require a rectal exam, too?"
Cindy didn't think it was funny.
"That would probably feel better, and less time consuming. Seriously Sophia, I've taken a personal day because this is impossible." And here comes meltdown number three. I went to college with a friend who used to say "sometimes tears are your only defense." The release didn't seem to be making Cindy feel better.
"I'm just going to call KCPL."
"You can get it online," Dayna, the property manager offers a voice of reason.
I cancel my appointment in Topeka.

I want to emphasize again how tough Cindy is on a regular basis. She tears around all day like a white tornado with relentless energy. She volunteers. She helps her sisters who both have kids. She's watched Puccini, a lot. Today it was clear she needed an emotional boost from me. Borrowed energy. Kind of funny, considering my near narcoleptic state, but I rallied.

"Cindy, let's just go over to the apartment and use my computer."
Over at the apartment, her phone rings.
"Oh my gosh, it's KCPL.. they are CALLING ME."
She gets the necessary info and has it faxed to the Nieman office. Again, it was important she mended that creaky bridge.
"I want a beer! " Cindy's been over before and knows there are 3 beers on tap. She just loves Ben and his homebrew.
"There's some in the regular fridge, Cindy, but we drank the rest. There are two in secondary in the spare room." (yeah so much for office space, we have a nano-brewery in our spare room. Smells better than company, and makes a lot less noise.)
"where's Ben? The hottest man alive. A good match for you, Sophia."
"In Texas, he'll carbonate the Brown when he gets back. Go grab a bottle of Single Wide."
She settled in with some hummous and sirachi instead, while I did an errrand. After all it was a personal day.
"Will you go with me downtown to finish this? I'll take you to lunch and for beers."
I agreed to the errands and food.
"I promised Debbie I'd run Kill Creek later, so I can't drink."
We went to the post office and mailed Trail Nerd T-shirts.
We went to Pet Smart for food and to get our pups nails trimmed.
But things were not running smoothly there. Worried that leaving the dogs there could mean death or permanent maiming, we nixed that, and got them to the dog park later.

My phone rang.
"Sophia, it's Debbie. Do you want to run Rockin K on Saturday? It's full but Julie dropped and you can have her spot."
Rockin K is a very difficult marathon. I am grossly undertrained. I don't hesitate.
"Hell yes! It's our marathon annifuckinversary!!!"
About a year ago, we bonded running Boston together.
"Cindy, I'm not running tonight."
"PERSONAL DAY!" in unison. We high five, and crank up the tunes.
We went to Mc Coys and met up with Keith the brewer. His wife just had a little girl, Josie, and at 4 weeks premie (although a healthy 5 pounds 9 oz.) and was still in the hospital.
I chatted on the phone with one of Cindy's friends. The young lady said she was "dating," Cindy. I played it cool.
We sampled 6 of Keith's beers (mmm I love the IPA), 2 mixed drinks and nachos.
The dogs hung out in the car.
Dog park.
Our next culinary/lubricating stop, Japan. Sushi with Cindy's "boyfriend." They held hands, and exchanged an awkward hug.
Plaza next. We met up with some of her other friends. We chatted outside on the patio. The weather was perfect for our personal day.
We were hungry again.
Baby burger. I wanted baby burgers.
"I'm sorry miss, we don't have them."
"Well could you cut my burger in triangles? It's so much more cheerful."
It arrived in triangles. Presentation is so important!
We hit I-Hop on the way home. Extra bacon for the dogs. They were still in the car!

Cindy has been a real rock of support for me, in a way I very much needed over the past 9 months. In August, I wrote a blog called "Shattered," about my crushed and scattered heart. She picked up the fun piece and took care of it. Today, I got it back, and I paid her back in spades. It was Funday Monday. Yeah, so much for crappy Mondays.

Debbie's been holding a couple pieces, too. Hope being the biggie. Determination, not bad either. Remember her call? She wanted a friend for a tough marathon. Good time to pay her back. (Race report to follow.)

I don't have children, my brother lives in New York, and my parents don't visit too much. So my friends are my family.

Like Cindy, I had to take a personal day last October. I had gotten a hostile, hateful facebook message. I went home and my phone started ringing. My friends were reaching out, because they'd heard I was having "mascara issues," at work. S.O.S. "Save Our Sophia."

However, I made one call to my friend and former photographer, Colton. We have a special connection, not just because of work, but because we both worked in State College, Pa. We have a lot of friends in common. I'm the only person he trusts with his beloved dog, Montana. At this point, for me, he was the only person who could give the emotional support I needed. He was there for me and understood.

Back to the present... well sort of. Two weeks ago Ben and I were brewing his Uber Saison. It's always a jolly experience. I cooked brats in beer (So delicious) and some of our friends came over.

The phone rang. Colton. Hmmm.. he works on Saturday.
"Hey Colton are you off? Come over, Ben's brewing!"
"Um, Sophia I'm in the hospital."
My heart stopped. Colton has an extremely rare form of hemophilia. Only 300 in the world and most are in India.
"Do you need blood?"
Ok. A little dramatic, he was in the hospital, but on a serious note, I was ready, if that's what he needed.
"No, but I have to be here for at least 2 days. Could you take care of Montana?"
I went to the hospital, got the key and brought the dog back to our apartment.
I've watched her a lot, but it was clear she knew something was wrong this time. She sat by the door a lot.
The phone rang the next night.
"Oh Sophia, it's Danielle, you have no idea what I went through to get your number."
Colton's girlfriend explained his phone had died in the hospital (don't tell hippa) and that she'd had to scour his old bill to find my number. I've had 5 numbers this year, and she had an old one.
"Can you pick me up at the airport? This is just so hard. We don't have any family in Kansas."
"Yes you do Danielle. I'm your family. Don't ever hesitate to call."

Paybacks.

Cindy.
Debbie.
Colton.
Danielle.

Paybacks, oh yes, paybacks are Heaven.

Muddy Hugs,
Sophia

Thank you, my dear freind..

I was sitting in the therapists office one day, broken down and crying. Tettering.
"I've lost my best buddy. She'll never come back."
"Is she your best buddy, Sophia?"
I was so distraught, I couldn't think strait. My wise and calm therapist, Frank was, as always, pointing out the obvious.
The next time I came in, I had a different take on things.
"She isn't my best friend. And I'm ok with the ones I have, who have stood by me as best they can on a really wild ride."
In the end, one has pounded me with love, often tough love. Given profound advice. Built up my dreams, and never stopped believing in fairies and fairy tale endings. For a spell, she took a break, but never stopped praying. During that break she took care of her own fairy tale, so it would have a nice ending.
Debbie Webster, I love you so much. You were chiselled in an incredibly awkward position, and stood firm. On the love plane. On the loyalty plane. On the honesty plane. Others were supportive of me, but they weren't in the thick of it, the way you were.
On this emotional, endurance race you have been my mobile aid station. In fact, you're the one who made me sign up. Sign up for love. Sign up for living life. And when you thought maybe I was getting more of a beating than I could take, you still let me stay in. Even though it caused you pain.
Then there came a point in February. I said I couldn't go on anymore. You jumped in with both feet. It was art imitating life. I think about how you took care of me when I ran Fee State last year. No matter what I needed, you were there. Strong, relentless, unconditional. I think about how when Coleen's energy drink wasn't there for her at Rocky, you ran back and dug it out of the shelter and caught up to her, so she would have what she needed on her first 100 miler. You know how to take care of people.
I don't care if you're not a writer. I don't care if you don't have fancy college degrees or a fancy house on Ward Parkway. You have made more good of your life experiences than anyone I know. I have a very simple look these days at religion. I stick with God is Love. And you've got more love in your heart than most who devote their lives to God. Thanks for being in my life in my inner circle. Thanks for stumbling along with me. Thanks for reaching out to me when you fall, and picking me up when I did. Thanks for loving the people I love, even when you didn't understand what was going on. Thanks for getting back in. Thanks for giving me sanctuary at your house. Most of all... thanks the other day for telling me you need me as a friend. It is an honor.