Monday Milestones and the Forty-Four Mile Mark

Hello, friends. I hope your Monday treated you with kindness. There is something about the start of a new week that always feels like a deep breath, isn't there? The house feels a little quieter once Mark heads out to the job site at 5:30 and the bus finally rounds the corner on Sycamore Street. Today, that quiet was exactly what I needed to sort through the laundry and my own thoughts.

Noah was in his usual form this morning, insistent on wearing his velociraptor pajamas underneath his jeans. I’ve learned that some battles just aren't worth the energy, especially when those little eyes are shining with so much prehistoric pride. Emma was busy sketching a mare and her foal on the back of her multiplication worksheet again. I really should tell her to focus on the numbers, but seeing her talent bloom makes it so hard to be the 'strict' mom. She has her father’s focus, even if she applies it to art instead of construction.

After the morning rush, I spent a few hours at the kitchen table working on Lucy's Little Light. I had a influx of orders over the weekend, which is such a blessing for our 'new roof' fund. There’s a particular kind of peace in pouring soy wax while the sun hits the linoleum. I’m experimenting with a new scent—something with cedar and vanilla—that reminds me of the way the air smells right before the first frost. It’s a slow growth, this little business of mine, but seeing the Etsy notifications feels like a tiny victory for my self-worth every single time.

Joanne caught me by the mailbox around noon. She was in that familiar pink bathrobe, looking a bit disgruntled at her petunias. She says the squirrels are getting bolder, but I think she just likes having someone to complain to. She taught at the elementary school for thirty years, so she has this way of looking at you over her spectacles that makes you feel like you’re back in third grade. We chatted for a bit about the weather and the upcoming Cedar Falls Harvest 5K.

Speaking of the race, I hit the trails shortly after my chat with Joanne. The air was crisp, the kind of weather that makes your lungs feel alive. I am so proud to tell you all that I hit my forty-fourth mile of training today. Forty-four! If you had told me a year ago that I’d be tracking these kinds of numbers, I would have laughed. But here I am, lace by lace, breath by breath, proving to myself that I am stronger than the self-doubt that used to keep me on the couch.

It isn't just about the physical fitness, though that’s a nice perk. My jeans are fitting a bit looser, and I feel a glow that no expensive cream from Dani’s salon could ever replicate. It’s more about the mental stamina. When I’m out there on the pavement, I’m not just a bookkeeper or a mom or a wife; I’m a woman who is capable of enduring. It makes me feel desirable in a way that’s hard to explain—not just to Mark, but to myself. There is a quiet confidence that comes from keeping a promise you made to your own heart.

Mark got home a little earlier than his usual 5:20 today, catching me just as I was finishing my cool-down stretch on the porch. He had that sawdust smell clinging to his work flannel, a scent that always reminds me of why I fell for him nine years ago. He gave me that tired, lopsided grin and told me I looked 'radiant.' After nearly a decade of marriage, those simple words still make my heart do a little skip. It’s easy to get lost in the roles we play, but moments like that remind me we are still 'us.'

I took a moment this afternoon to write in the robin-egg-blue journal Megan gave me. She’s been such a rock, especially with our Saturday pickleball matches keeping me sane. I was reflecting on how much has changed since June. Back then, I was struggling to find 'me time.' Now, I realize that 'me time' isn't a luxury; it’s the fuel that allows me to be present for everyone else. My financial goals are becoming clearer, and my body feels like a temple I’m finally learning to respect.

Biscuit is currently curled up at my feet, snoring softly while the sun begins its slow descent over the backyard. I need to start thinking about dinner—probably something simple like a roast or a hearty salad—before the evening chaos truly begins. Tomorrow is a Tuesday, which means I'll be back at Miller’s Hardware, surrounded by the scent of sawdust and Mr. Miller’s endless stories about the 'good old days.' It’s a busy life, but it’s a full one.

Before I go, I want to remind you all to celebrate your small wins today. Whether it’s a mile run, a candle poured, or just getting the kids to school with matching socks—it all counts. We are all works in progress, and there is so much beauty in the middle of the journey. Don't wait for the finish line to be proud of yourself. You are doing enough, and you are enough.

The clock is just hitting 5:50, and I hear Noah roaring from the other room—the dinosaurs must be hungry. I’m going to set my phone down and be present for the rest of the night. Thank you for walking this path with me, ladies. It means more than I can say to have this space to share my heart with you.

I love you. — Lucy