Tuesday Tools and the Fifty-Two Mile Triumph

Hello, friends. I’m sitting here at the kitchen table with a mug of peppermint tea, watching the sky over Sycamore Street turn that deep, bruised purple it gets just before the sun dips low. Mark should be pulling into the driveway any minute now, and I can already hear Biscuit pacing by the front door, his tail thumping against the floorboards in anticipation. There is something so grounding about the rhythm of a Tuesday, isn't there?

Today was a 'Miller’s Hardware' day. I walked into the shop at eleven and was immediately greeted by that familiar, comforting scent of fresh sawdust and motor oil. Mr. Miller was in a bit of a tizzy because the new shipment of winterizing kits arrived early, so I spent the first hour of my shift organizing invoices while he grumbled about the weather. It’s funny how a part-time bookkeeping job can make you feel so capable. Balancing those ledgers gives me a sense of control that sometimes slips away when I’m negotiating with a four-year-old about why we can’t wear velociraptor pajamas to the grocery store.

Speaking of Noah, he was quite the handful this morning before I dropped him at preschool. He’s decided that his dinosaurs need 'homes,' which apparently means building elaborate forts out of every single throw pillow and blanket in the living room. Emma, ever the artist, was right there with him, though she was more interested in sketching horses on the back of the building instructions. I love seeing their creativity, even if it means I’m constantly tripping over a stray Triceratops on my way to the coffee pot.

After my shift ended at three, I headed home, laced up my sneakers, and hit the pavement. Ladies, I have to tell you, the air is getting crisp. I could see my breath for the first time this season, but it felt good. It felt like I was truly alive. I pushed myself today, fueled by the momentum of the last few weeks. When I checked my watch back at the porch, I realized I’d hit fifty-two miles total in this training cycle. Fifty-two miles! If you had told the Lucy of three years ago that she’d be training for the Cedar Falls Harvest 5K with this kind of consistency, she wouldn't have believed you.

Running has become more than just a way to stay in shape for me. It’s become a space where I reclaim my self-worth. When I’m out there, I’m not just a mom or a bookkeeper or the lady who makes candles; I’m a woman who is strong, capable, and fast. I’m learning to love the version of myself that sweats and breathes hard and doesn't care if her hair is a mess. It’s a different kind of desirability—one that comes from the inside out, knowing that my body is a vessel for my own strength.

I even managed to squeeze in a little work for 'Lucy’s Little Light' before the kids got home from their afternoon activities. I had three new orders on Etsy this morning—two for the 'Cedar Forest' scent and one for 'Vanilla Bean.' Pouring the wax is such a meditative process. It’s my little side hustle, my small way of contributing to our family’s 'fun fund,' and seeing those orders come in makes me feel like I’m growing something real, inch by inch, candle by candle.

Joanne caught me as I was bringing the mail in. She was out there in her signature pink bathrobe, deadheading her petunias despite the chill. She told me I looked 'racy' in my running gear, which gave me a good laugh. She’s a hoot, but she also reminded me to call my mom. Diane called on Sunday, as she always does, but I was so caught up in the fifty-mile celebration that I didn't get to tell her all the details. I’ll have to give her a ring tomorrow when the house is quiet again.

Mark and I are coming up on nine years of marriage soon, and I find myself looking at him differently lately. When he comes home covered in the dust of the construction site, tired but still reaching out to pull me into a hug, I feel so lucky. We’re in that thick middle part of life where everything is busy and loud, but there’s a sweetness in the struggle. I want to make sure I’m still showing up for him, not just as the person who manages the calendar, but as his partner and his friend.

Tonight is a simple dinner—leftover chili and maybe some cornbread if I can get the oven preheated in time. I’m looking forward to the quiet after the kids go to bed, when I can open my robin-egg-blue journal and write down these small victories. Megan gave me that journal for a reason; she knew I needed a place to hold all these thoughts so they didn't just float away in the chaos of daily life.

If you’re feeling a bit overwhelmed today, just remember that the small steps count. Whether it’s balancing a checkbook, running an extra mile, or just making sure the dinosaurs have a place to sleep, you are doing a great job. We are all growing, even when it feels like we’re just standing still. I’m so glad we’re on this journey together.

The sun is almost gone now, and I hear the truck in the drive. Time to start the evening rush. I hope your Tuesday was kind to you, and that you found at least one moment to feel proud of yourself. You deserve that much and so much more.

I love you. — Lucy