Friday Frost and the Fifty-Five Mile Feat

Hello, friends. It is just past five o’clock, and I am sitting here at the kitchen table with a mug of peppermint tea, watching the sky turn that deep, dusty purple that only happens in November. The house is surprisingly quiet for a moment. Mark just pulled into the driveway—I can hear the low rumble of his truck—and the kids are currently sprawled on the living room rug. Noah is deeply involved in a 'dino-rescue' mission while wearing his favorite velociraptor pajamas, and Emma is concentrated on sketching a very detailed horse in the margins of her spelling list. Even Biscuit is still, snoozing by the radiator.

Today felt like one of those days where the world asks you to slow down just a little bit, even when your to-do list says otherwise. It was a crisp morning, the kind where you can see your breath the second you step onto the porch. Joanne was out earlier in her signature pink bathrobe, even though the frost has finally claimed her petunias. We shared a quick wave, a silent acknowledgment of the changing season, before I headed back inside to get the kids ready for their day.

Since I don’t work at Miller’s Hardware on Fridays, I usually try to use this time to catch up on 'Lucy’s Little Light' orders. My kitchen counter currently looks like a chemistry lab, though it smells much better—a mix of cedarwood and vanilla bean today. I’ve been feeling a lot of gratitude for this little side hustle lately. It’s not just about the extra grocery money or the ability to tuck a little more into our savings; it’s about having something that is entirely mine. It’s a small victory for my self-worth every time I see a new notification on my phone.

There is something so empowering about watching your own growth, whether it's the balance in a savings account or the strength in your own legs. Speaking of legs, I hit a major milestone this morning. I laced up my sneakers and hit the pavement for my daily run, pushing through the chill until I hit exactly fifty-five miles for this training cycle. Fifty-five miles. If you had told me a year ago that I’d be training for the Cedar Falls Harvest 5K and actually keeping up with the mileage, I probably would have laughed while reaching for another cookie.

Training for this race has become a mirror for my life in so many ways. Some days the miles are easy, and I feel like I could run all the way to Diane’s house. Other days, like this morning when the wind was biting at my ears, every step feels like a choice. But I am learning that the choice is where the power lies. I’m choosing to be in shape, not just for the way I look, but for how I feel when Mark looks at me—and more importantly, how I feel when I look at myself in the mirror.

Speaking of Mark, we are coming up on nine years of marriage. Nine years since we said our vows and moved into this little blue house on Sycamore Street. It hasn’t always been easy, especially with the long days he puts in as a construction foreman. He leaves at 5:30 in the morning and comes home exhausted, but he always manages to give me that specific smile that makes me feel like the most desirable woman in Iowa. It’s the small things—the way he holds my hand during a movie or how he never forgets to check the oil in my car.

Megan stopped by for a few minutes this afternoon to drop off a fresh loaf of sourdough from the bakery. We only chatted for ten minutes, but it was enough to recharge my batteries. We’re still on for pickleball tomorrow morning, and I’m actually looking forward to the soreness. There’s a specific kind of joy in being active, in pushing your body and realizing it is capable of so much more than you gave it credit for.

I spent an hour this afternoon updating my journal—the robin-egg-blue one Megan gave me. I like to keep track of the finances for the candle business there, but I also use it to record these training milestones. Seeing '55 miles' written in ink feels so much more real than just seeing it on a digital screen. It’s a physical record of my persistence, a reminder that I am a woman who follows through on her promises to herself.

I think we often forget that our lives are built in these tiny increments. We look for the big transformations, the overnight successes, but the real beauty is in the 11-to-3 shifts at the hardware store, the smell of sawdust, the sound of Emma’s pencil scratching on paper, and the steady rhythm of feet hitting the pavement. It’s in the way we choose to show up for our families and ourselves, even when we’re tired.

Mark is walking through the door now, and I can hear Noah shouting 'Daddy!' at the top of his lungs. The quiet moment is over, but my heart is very full. Tonight, we’re having a simple dinner, and then I think I’ll spend a little more time finishing up those vanilla bean orders before bed. I want to make sure I’m rested for our Saturday steps tomorrow.

Thank you for being here with me, ladies. Whether you’re on mile one or mile fifty-five of whatever journey you’re on, just know that you are doing enough. You are enough. I’m going to go help with the 'dino-rescue' now and enjoy the chaos of my beautiful, messy life.

I love you. — Lucy