can we talk about this?

I've long since been back and forth on the whole nature vs. nurture idea. But my plants are basically living(ish) proof that although I nurtured them equally, sometimes nature really is stronger.

Neither look quite as beautiful as they did two weeks ago when my mom poured lots of Muff love into them, but Tallulah is hanging in...
Whereas Delilah is on the struggle bus...
You see the arrow? That bunch of leaves is still attached, and is supposed to be climbing my railing. Instead, it's doing the horizontal on the ground.

Maybe they'll be more resilient as fall settles in?

'tis the season

So you might say that I'm not really great with football. For example, it wasn't until way too late in life that I learned what a first down was (AKA senior year of college at an NFL game). And this year when I joined my first Fantasy league, I didn't know you actually had to do something with it every week (wha??).

But, there is something I love about football season. Everyone is just so happy and primed to play. From Saturday morning to Sunday night, people are ready to be social. Especially in the south. And I love it.

This weekend, when I wasn't "watching" (aka at a party where it was on) football, I was outside. And the combination was glorious. Fall came early in Georgia, with seventy and humidity-free sunny days. The highlight of my weekend was a bonfire, where everyone brought a dish - including some phenom chili - and we all embraced the amazing weather.

I wish, with all of my heart, it could stay like this until March, when it turns to spring. It's so happy.

PS: Don't worry. There were definitely s'mores at the bonfire. Di di di!

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run baby run

You guuuuys. I'm so happy. Last night I got to go on a walk for the first time since getting injured. And next week, I get to start running.

I could not be happier.

I don't think I've been this happy since I finished the Chicago Marathon. And on some level, not running was almost as challenging as that was.

Last night I had to break in my new orthotics, which required being on my feet for two hours. This created an incredible contrast to five weeks ago when my physical therapist told me to stay off my feet for at least three hours. When she tasked me with going for a long walk, I almost hugged her.

If you saw some girl driving down Peachtree, bumping to Gaga last night with a huge smile, it was me.

I'll be sure to report back on the first run next week.

112 hours.

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