I’m not very good at math. In fact, my third-grader has pretty much out-paced me now that he’s mastering the metric system — yikes! But that doesn’t mean I don’t like numbers. I actually really like them when they have some significance in my life.
I like to say I’m 39 years old (age is kind of like a badge of honor after cancer), that I’ve been married for 14 years, that I have 2 boys (born weighing 10 pounds, 9 ounces and 10 pounds, 2 ounces), that I went to college for 6.5 years, that I’ve survived breast cancer for 5 years, and, now, today, I get to add some new numbers to my bag of tricks. Here goes:
Today, I ran 13.1 miles in 2 hours, 13 minutes and 53 seconds, and it was 29 degrees when I started. I scored 1 pretty medal, 2 hand-made little-boy signs (“Mom, you are a star” on Joey’s sign and “You are good moon mom” on Danny’s sign) and 2 free bagels and some water after the race.
With my mom cooking 1 glorious pasta meal for dinner and John promising me 1 massage later for Valentine’s Day, I’m counting this as a pretty good numbers day — although tomorrow might be a good time to start counting carbs (bagels, pasta!).