Maybe I'm Amazed

It's been pretty quiet here in Find Your Awesome-land. Fear not - I'm still chugging away at the training and pounding the pavement. With 8 weeks to go, I'm well over halfway through my marathon training and am feeling the pinch on my time, energy and mental strength.

But an AWESOME thing happened just a week ago and while it adjusted my training a bit, it was so worth it. I was able to check off "run a trail half marathon" from by 40x40 bucket list. While it is something I was interested in, it was really made by having Kari and Mike by my side.

A year ago, Kari suggested we sign up for the North Country Trail Race, a half-marathon in the Manistee National Forest. The sign-ups opened for the 2015 race on the day after the 2014 race. As I sat in my living room forking over $75, Mike says, "why don't you sign me up too?" Mike was not a runner. In August 2014, he was not even walking much. So I turned that $75 into $150 and it was settled. It was a secret - for awhile. Then it started to trickle out. Mike started walking with the Run Muskegon group in the fall and doing some run/walking.

Fast Forward to spring. A long winter with lots travel and busy schedules. I did a crash course to train for the Bayshore Half Marathon and Mike took to the streets again to start training. After Memorial Day and Bayshore came and went we realized how close NCT really was. By this time I had, of course, already committed to Marine Corps Marathon as well - meaning I couldn't focus all my attention on the trails.

Professional help was needed. We joined the Gazelle Sports Summer Run Camp in Grand Rapids. The Summer Safari program in Kalamazoo in 2013 helped me get to the finish line and I needed the support now to get through 4 months of training, especially when I don't have someone my pace who is training for a marathon. So we signed up and got started the first week of June.

The last three months have been some of the best of my life. Training for a long distance race is not easy and it can be very difficult on your loved ones. It takes on a new dimension when that person is training with you. Starting with the spring melt, we ran short distances together in the evenings, as Mike started with a 2:00 minute run/2:00 minute walk interval. He because a regular at Run Muskegon on Wednesdays. To prep for North Country's challenging terrain, we started running on Tuesdays at Hoffmaster State Park. I think he hated me a little, when I made sure we always ran down a dune to see the water and the evening sun. After all, what goes down must come up. When I was too tired to talk on Monday nights, he promised me that we'd catch up on the trail the next day. Our own dirty, sweaty, buggy date night.

When we started the long runs for Summer Run Camp, my distances increased at an accelerated pace, quickly rising into the double digits. However, I found comfort in starting out together, having timed walk breaks in warm up miles and chugging along, often silent. One of my difficulties in 2013 was completing my mid-week runs and cross-training. Having a real, live, in-home training partner has upped my accountability. I've been hitting most of my mid-week runs, going to yoga, and we bike almost every Saturday evening after our long run. The difference in my pace and comfort level is evident. The results were clear on August 22nd.

Kari, Mike and I headed to Wellston after work to the Big M Trailhead. We really didn't know what to expect, but when we picked up our race packets FULL of swag and saw the fun atmosphere at the site, we knew were in for a good time. A quick jaunt back to Manistee for dinner and sleep and Saturday morning we were ready. It was my 5th half marathon, Kari's 9th (I think) and Mike's first. His only race other than the Seaway Run 5k in June. The place was jumping with music, a bonfire, flags from every state represented and people just sitting out having a great time. We decided to all stick together and run/walk as we felt comfortable. With the hills, we probably couldn't keep any kind of interval, at least not for long.

Trying to get a 6'2" and 5'2" person in the same selfie

The camaraderie on the trail was fantastic. We nicknamed ourselves and everyone around us the "Mullets: Party in the Back" and learned everyone's names, where they were from, sang happy birthday to someone, cheered on the marathoners as they passed us, took selfies, the works. I've never had a better race. Kari, although not trained, was holding herself back some to stick with us because it was just more fun together. Mike and I had the rare opportunity to run with the 10:30 pace group from our Summer Run Camp. Everyone was going slow and having a good time, so we were able to hang together for several miles and get to know them better. We were holding a good pace, slightly faster than expected, but not burning ourselves out. We had heard the back of the course was challenging, especially as you're tired, so we kept it measured and took good breaks at the aid stations. Oh the aid stations! Water, electrolytes, pretzels, fresh fruit, medical attention, wonderful service and more! Just phenomenal!

So fast we're blurry.

As we rounded the last few miles we saw some confusing flags that looked to lead us straight up and then down a hill. Cranky Jamie starts swearing under her breath and then we reach to top to this sight:

Don't slow down for a picture - you might not win!

A beautiful overlook of the valley below - a photo opp if I ever saw one. And yes, everyone was taking advantage of it. So we paused, took in the view, and then headed down the hill - me freewheeling like a kid running down a dune. Thinking we had far longer to go, we could hear the roar of the crowd. We held back a little as we didn't want to burn out with 2 miles to go. But never trust Garmin in the woods. We rounded a corner and were surprised by the finish. We were MORE surprised when we were told to finish then and not do the extra 1 mile lap. That was just for the marathoners. But, but... Garmin says we only ran 12.2. Nope. There's the finish. So we made the most anti-climatic, confused 30 yard run for the finish and were done! 3:32! Right at our goal time and feeling good and ready to party!

That's some bling right there!

While I've completed a number of big races that left me feeling emotionally drained, I don't know if I can explain what this one meant. There was the standard relief it was over, sense of accomplishment, fear for my toenails, having to pee, but that's not what it really was. I was and still am so proud of Michael and everything he did to get to this point. He never said he couldn't do it. He has pushed me to be a better runner. He's been my partner in getting up early, eating late, trying to find socks, and "suck it up and get it done." He picked an incredibly difficult target and met it and signed up on Monday to do it again. Heck, he's already signed up to do another half marathon this fall. There are no words for how amazed I am.

Wow.

And with that, we feasted, drank beer, congratulated our new found trail buddies and went for a swim in the river. Best damn day.

Second Verse, Same as the First

Two years ago I started this blog and announced that I would be running the 2013 Marine Corps Marathon. It was going to be the best, most epic thing EVER. I would raise a ton of money for my charity, finally get that awesome runner's body I've been chasing for two decades, and I would be... a MARATHONER. You all were there, you remember.

Well... it happened. Some of it. I raised a ton of money for the Epilepsy Therapy Project (now merged with the Epilepsy Foundation of America). I did not get sleek and slim. I had some athletic mishaps and personal setbacks that made the training difficult and frustrated the hell out of me. But I did finish. And it was epic. And I felt like a "person who completed a marathon" not a MARATHONER.

Normally I hem and haw and over think before making big decisions. Especially decisions that will affect how I spend  5-20 hours a week for the next 6 months. Then there are times when I see a facebook post pop up that says "Fall in. MCM Lottery concludes today at noon eastern!" I read this at 11:12 am. I texted Kari who said "go for it, but I'm not in... I'm still deciding if I'm doing a marathon this year."

So I clicked to the Marine Corps Marathon website, created a profile, thought for 30 more seconds and with 42 minutes left in the lottery, I gave them my credit card info and clicked ENTER. Judging from the number of people complaining they didn't get in last year, I figured about 2 - 3x more people entered than were slots available. I have no idea the actual odds, because I woke up 2 days later to this:

Oh. Crap.

So I texted Kari roughly the same message, with more profanity. Forward Mike the email with the message "did you know your girlfriend is an idiot?" Oh yeah... I didn't tell him I was entering the lottery. His response: "Well, looks like we're going to DC this year." He later agreed that I'm an idiot (in the most loving way possible).
Mike brought up some good points: would I have fun running if I didn't have anyone to experience it with? Didn't I want to do another marathon in a different city? Well, here's the thing - what's done is done, in more than one way. I entered and won the lottery - the first and only lottery I've ever won. Also, there is something to be said for doing a race a second time. You have an idea of how it works, where to go, where the bathrooms are, how long you walk from the staging area to the start line, what 25,000 runners feels like, etc. By not being overwhelmed by all the new stuff as a first time marathoner and my first time at the MCM, I will have a different (and hopefully more successful) race.

So there it is - 2 weeks before my 35th birthday and I got my present. A credit card receipt for over $100 for a race I'm not so sure about. And a summer filled with running. So the question is - who's up for the long runs? Cause I can't do it alone.

Time is on my side

Sometime in 2013, a rash of "40 before 40" lists popped up with my friends, inspired by my great friend and Platonic Life Partner (and bad idea bear) Kari Kidrowski. I usually hate these things - sorry all friends who wrote kickass lists. I'm not sure why, but they've never quite appealed to me yet. And yet, I was driving home from Kalamazoo a few weekends ago and I found myself daydreaming about what would be on my list.

I'm coming up on 35 in April, and I've got some good things on the horizon, but I think there are plenty left to be accomplished. I reserve the right to add, delete, edit, censor or chuck this list altogether. Would you expect anything else?

1. Travel to Europe Boom! Done, Dec 26, 2014 - Jan 4, 2015

2. Roast a turkey successfully

3. Run a 10:00/mile. Just one. :)

4. Read Ulysses (I faked my way through a test on it in undergrad. It's time to read it) 

5. Can fruits and veggies for our own pantry

6. Run another marathon in another city

7. Start to learn Spanish

8. Learn to play a new instrument (piano? guitar? bass guitar?)

9. Censored

10. Brew my own beer

11. Learn to do a headstand

12. Finally take that vacation to the Bahamas 

13. Run a trail half marathon Done! 8-22-2015, North Country Trail

14. See Paul McCartney in concert (on deck, October 17, 2015)

15. Redacted

16. See Troy, Jessica and the kids more than once a year.  An annual goal, but managed it in 2015

17. Have a 30 day running streak November 27 - December 26, 2014

18. Uhh yeah... no

19. Try out for a local theater production

20. Run a sub-2:30 half marathon

21. Finally meet some of Mike's Navy friends that we haven't visited together

22.Create a living will/advance directive - encourage family members to do the same

23. Become a proficient and confident swimmer

24. Super Secret ;)

25. Vacation at the Wizarding World of Harry Potter! April 2015!

So I only got to 25, even after letting this sit for a few weeks. I'll add more as I they come to me - hopefully not everything will be an athletic pursuit. I think 5 1/2 years is enough time to get most of this done. Really, I just need one AWESOME running year and I'll knock several out.

Holiday Run Streak is in progress!

Photographs and Memories

Tis the season... for year end reviews, retrospectives, and resolutions.

While 2013 was my most exciting year in recent memory, with a some AWESOME accomplishments and life changes, I find myself at the end of it feeling a little, well, blah. And definitely ready to move on to 2014. Many of my friends are ready to shove 2013 out the door, as they have faced significant challenges - with the hope that things can only look up. But I think that is what we hope for every year, no matter how successful the previous one was -- that things will get better.

So maybe we'll have a brief photo recap of 2013 and some thoughts on where to go next. Sound good? Still hanging with me?

The year kicked off right with the Sgt. Preston Yukon King 6 mile run on New Year's Day. Clock (in red) and I came in last. It was pretty awesome.

And I escaped the Michigan winter in January to visit Mike in Arizona - he was still living and working there.

Sunset heading towards Tuscon

But by March... he was on his way back to Michigan for good!

Just under 2000 miles from Phoenix to Kalamazoo!

I was already hatching my plans to run the Marine Corps Marathon and had set my sights on running the 5/3 River Bank 25k. As I wrote about before, the training didn't go well and my first half marathon of the season was rough. The weekend of my 33rd birthday was spent in Bloomington, IN for the Hoosier Half.

April came and went and Mother's Day (and Riverbank) was upon us! 

Kari's first 25k, my second 10k

As June rolled around I was finally ready to kick my running into high gear and I hit one of the low points of the year. On June 8, 2013, my grandmother passed away. 

Jamie, Jessica, Troy and Grandma
at Troy and Jessica's wedding reception, Aug 2010

The summer became an endless cycle of work, running and car trouble. In July, Mike and I took a much needed vacation to California to visit Troy, Jessica and Nolan (of course!!) and to do some sightseeing around the Bay Area. It was my first time visiting Yosemite and Alcatraz. We hit many of the San Francisco highlights in one whirlwind day, including Golden Gate Park, which clearly doesn't impress Nolan.

Shortly after returning from California, decided to get off the car repair merry-go-round. I bought my first ever new car (not hand-me-down from a family member), a 2013 Chevy Cruze. Kari suggested the name "Penelope Cruze," and she has treated me well the last few months. The downside is having an actual car payment and the car insurance hike that comes from having a car newer than your high school diploma.

I don't know about you, but I think the most logical thing to do after buying a new car and incurring a bunch of expenses is to change jobs and move. No?? Well I was never one for taking advice.

In late August, I accepted an offer at United Way of the Lakeshore, where I started my United Way career in 2009. I left my great colleagues at United Way in Kalamazoo after 3.5 years. It also meant leaving my running group, EcoTrekkers, friends, Jaycees and roomies, Heather and Shark.

Oh and I had to move. I hate moving. Dad and Mike hate it more.



My move to back to Muskegon put Mike's plans for home improvement on the fast track, as there were several projects he hoped to have done before Crookshanks and I arrived. Fast and furious work on painting, carpets and the kitchen, as well as some exterior updates took place over a 2-week period.

Crookshanks approves these updates

Throughout the summer, the move, the changes, I was still rolling towards the Marine Corps Marathon goal. I had my injury setback, detailed here, but was able to have some beautiful training runs.

Summer was quickly coming to a close and I was raising money like mad for the Epilepsy Therapy Project. I also spent a lot of time in little engine mode when mentally preparing for the marathon: I think I can, I think I can. One more race and it was time to head to DC.

Too good not to post - the Grand Rapids Marathon Relay Crew. And Mike's thumb.

I've detailed the marathon here, but there are more photos to share and always more story to tell.

Welcome to DC!

What?? You finished a marathon? You can still stand up? You're kidding!!

Ok, maybe that was just my internal monologue, but honestly, this was one of the best days of my life so far. I'm so glad that Mike, Mom, Dad and Kari were on the adventure with me!



It seems that the whole year was all about the marathon, but really, it was only about 6 months. Haha. Now that we've gotten through October and the REALLY BIG THING, as I had taken to calling it, I could focus on ending the year strong.

The runner ladies and I took to the apple orchards again this year for the Dirty Duel Trail Race. No action shots, but I think this will suffice:

With the holidays approaching, Mom, Dad, and I took a trip out to California in early December. We celebrated Christmas with Troy, Jessica and Nolan by completely spoiling the little bugger, eating all the cookies that Jessica made with no help, and having Thai food for Christmas dinner. Mike had already made plans to attend the Big 10 Championship game in Indianapolis to watch MSU beat Ohio State, so he didn't make the trip with us.

Nolan is ready to go

Aunt Jamie and Nolan spend some quality time

Almost the family Christmas card

With the holiday season properly kicked off, I returned home in the "spirit" and convinced Mike we had to get a Christmas tree. We HAAAADDD to get a Christmas tree.

Umm... isn't that the most awesome Christmas tree you've seen yet today? Yes, it does need an angel or a star. We're working on it.

I don't have many pictures from Christmas itself or the various festivities, so you'll have to trust me that this is a good representation. This is most of the Helsen women at our annual cookie exchange (and also the day of our holiday gathering). It was the first Christmas without Grandma, but we had 50 people at the house celebrating, so a wonderful celebration!

That's about it for the photo retrospective, kiddos. They're mostly rehashes, but a good reminder of where I've been this year and how lucky I am. 

In 2013 I was blessed with health, opportunity, endurance, encouragement, friendship and love. I don't know if I can ask for more out of 2014. Perhaps it's best not to get greedy and instead try to build on the abundance of gifts I have in front of me in these closing days of 2013.

My final words on 2013 come from the later verses of the traditional New Year's Eve song, Auld Lang Syne:

We two have run about the slopes,
and picked the daisies fine;
But we've wandered many a weary foot,
since auld lang syne.

And there's a hand my trusty friend!
And give us a hand o' thine!
And we'll take a right good-will draught,
for auld lang syne.

Happy New Year!

So you say you ran a marathon?

Seven months ago, I stepped out into the blogosphere and put a stake in the ground. I was going to run the Marine Corps Marathon, raise $1500 for the Epilepsy Therapy Project and write a blog about my journey. Well kids, it's November and we need to check in on those goals.

I've started and stopped this first sentence countless times now, because the enormity of 9 days ago just makes it difficult to know where to start. But as Maria Von Trapp taught us, let's start at the very beginning - it's a very good place to start.

If I were to recap the ENTIRE awesome trip to our Nation's great Capitol, we'd be here all night, so I'll dedicate this post to the marathon and touch on other parts of the trip in another post. With our starting point established, Sunday, October 27, 2013, 7:55am. A date with destiny.

Prepped at ready at packet pick-up

The entire crew (Kari, me, Mike, Mom and Dad) was staying in Maryland and getting to the start of the race required a 20 minute drive to the Metro Commuter Station and 35-40 minute Metro ride to the Pentagon. Knowing there were many logistical hurdles to navigate, we wanted to get on one of the first trains into the city, so we left the hotel around 4:40am. Seriously. The ride to the Green Belt Metro Station was not without its challenges. Primarily from me.

Five minutes into the ride: "I know what I forgot. My contact lens." So yes, I ran the race and went the next 12 hours with uncorrected vision.

Five  minutes later: "Oh... I didn't bring my ankle brace." As in I totally haven't run more than one mile since August without an ankle brace and now I'm going to run for 6 hours WTF!!! Mom was very concerned, but frankly, the brace had been bothering me and I didn't feel like I had a hell of a lot of choices, so I did NOT freak out, and decided to run unsupported and hit the med tent if needed.

Minor issues, but a little nerve rattling.

Runner's Village - heading towards the start line

We arrived at the Pentagon Station and walked to Runner's Village, familiarized ourselves with the surroundings (located porta-potties) and realized the race didn't start for 90 minutes. After listening to the tail end of a non-denominational prayer service and killing some time, we finally made our way towards the start line around 7:10. I wasn't letting myself feel the butterflies until the American flag came streaming down to earth attached to the parachutes of skydivers while an a Capella choir sang the national anthem. For the first time that day, I began to feel the enormity of running 26.2 miles through the some of the nation's most important spots. Also, it was finally light out, so I could see enough to be impressed for the first time.

Now I had to say goodbye to my kick-ass ground support crew and send them on their most excellent spectator journey, which covered miles of walking, 2 states by Metro and multiple trips through Marine Corps security. Mom, Dad and Mike are the people who made it happen.

It was time to get settled into my corral at the back of the pack and send Kari off towards the middle. She didn't want to leave and I wished she didn't have to, but she had a race to run and needed to do it about 90 minutes faster than me.

Chatting before the start

At 7:55 the howitzer fired and we were off! Ok, 22 minutes later I crossed the starting line. Tens of thousands of runners crossed the starting line ahead of me. Those 22 minutes were the longest of the day - well, until the last 6 miles.

I'll admit that over a week later, I don't remember much of the first mile except people. Lots of people. The first 10k was the most technically difficult and the easiest mentally. I had a good pace, my lungs felt good, the scenery was great and I felt right on target. For the first of several times, I saw my parents and Mike when I was in Georgetown - easily the most entertaining part of the race. It featured high school marching bands, the Georgetown Hoyas pep band, a bluegrass group and a runner who was falling down drunk at mile 5. Honestly. Last I saw her she was being helped to a cart by a Marine and another volunteer.

At nearly every intersection for 26.2 (or 26.6 according to Garmin) miles and every aid station, there were Marines, keeping up safe, hydrated, fueled and encouraged. I had scrawled my name on my race bib and at a later water stop, a young marine was filling up my water bottle and saw it. He said, "Good job Jamie! Keep going!" I almost cried because I was so glad to have someone call me by name at that point in the game.

Back to our race. After the first 6, I was settling in well and focused on maintaining a pace so I could pass the Gauntlet (mile 17) and Beat the Bridge (mile 20). These two cut-off points must be reached by a certain time or you will be removed from the course and bused back to the finish line. If you ask my fellow travel companions, they will tell you that the weekend's refrain was "I will NOT get on the bus." My pace was on the mark to make the bridge, but those 22 minutes waiting to cross the start line were not doing me any favors.

In those middlish miles before coming back to the crowds of the National Mall, I was out in the relative no-man's land of Hains Point, along the Potomac. The view is nice and there were lots of signs, but limited spectators. This is where I found the Blue Mile, sponsored by the Team Wear Blue/Run to Remember. Please check out this runner's blog for moving photos of the mile. Every 6 feet was a photo of a service member killed in action. These men and women, most barely out of their teens, were often smiling, sometimes holding newborn babies, lives full of promise and service to country. Some were career military veterans at 40, who could have been close to retirement. I pulled down my sunglasses as I couldn't stop the tears. The last half of the Blue Mile was volunteers, one after the other, holding flags at attention - all day long. I cried harder.

Regaining some composure and checking my pace, I hustled on the the National Mall, where I saw Mike again. I tried to hug him, but he pushed me on, as the math whiz in him was concerned about me making the Gauntlet. The mood on the Mall was upbeat with thousands of spectators, more music and sights to see. My parents saw me (but I barely remember seeing them) around mile 16 as I cruised towards the Gauntlet in front of one of the Smithsonian Museums (Natural History?). I made it, with Marines cheering me on and barking at everyone, in a very encouraging manner, to go BEAT THE BRIDGE!

Passed the Gauntlet, headed to the Bridge!

So I did. And I pushed it. When a Marine yelled "You've got to get to the bridge by 1:05," I said "Well what time is it now???" Turns out I was a mile away and it was 12:40 pm. So I had plenty of time, but couldn't dawdle.

When I reached the 14th Street Bridge, I could finally relax. 20 miles down. Just a 10k to go. The toughest 10k of my life. As a friend put it - you feel like your knees have been taken out and you were up all night drinking beforehand. But still, just 6.2 little miles. I could do it. I could do it. I didn't get on the bus. I didn't get on the bus. Left foot, right foot.

Once we crossed back into Virginia for the last 6 miles, it got rough. For the first time I put in my headphones. I saw Ellen, one of the other Team Athletes vs. Epilepsy runners around mile 22. She wasn't feeling so hot, and was glad to see me, but told me to go on as she was going to struggle. It was comforting to see a friendly face so late in the race.

During those first 20 miles, I was focused on the BRIDGE, but had no doubts about my ability to complete the race. Things got very real after mile 20. I still knew I could finish and was not having any major issues. The bum ankle wasn't acting up and I was successfully ignoring the growing tightness in my calves and hamstrings. The burning in my neck and shoulders had been present since about mile 5, and while it was sapping my energy, it wasn't keeping my legs from moving. I just kept running... but the miles weren't going by! I would look down at my Garmin and .05 miles had elapsed! I had to turn my watch around so I couldn't see the time or distance because while my body was going strong, time and space were somehow disrupted.

I dodged walkers all through Crystal City and winding back towards the Pentagon. Many other back of the packers had pushed it to beat the BRIDGE and then walked much of the last 6 miles. My strategy was the continue my same run/walk intervals as the first 20 miles, which I did accomplish, although not quickly. With as much or more effort, my pace slowed by at least 1 min/mile. I cursed those who said I was "almost there" at mile 23. At mile 25, I finally believed them! I saw the starting line. There were spectators lining the course.

About mile 25. Still upright, but tired

As I came upon the last mile, I could see Arlington National Cemetery in the distance. Marines and civilians alike were cheering us on. I kept moving.

Ain't nothin' gonna to break my stride
Nobody's gonna slow me down, oh-no I got to keep on movin'
Matthew Wilder

I turned a corner and saw it. The final hill. Signs on the ground saying "Charge the Hill!" and "Take Iwo" as we all climbed the short (LONGEST) hill to the finish. Marines were shoulder to shoulder giving high fives and dragging you up the hill if needed. I didn't think I had anything left, but I couldn't walk that hill. I just couldn't. I reached the top, ran the last 100 yards and crossed the finish line. Clock time was about 6:28. Official time: 6:06:01.

Running a marathon requires a lot of trust in your body, the people around you and letting your preparation carry you when you flip to autopilot. Thank god for the Marine Corps. When I was done with the race, they were (kindly) telling me where to go and what to do, because I had no post-race autopilot and energy to think for myself. 

1. Collect your medal. 2. Get your picture taken at the Iwo Jima Memorial. 3. Move to the left to get your box of food and finisher jacket. 4. Follow the fence to exit the finishers area.

My feet hurt. My neck hurt. My back hurt. My heart soared! I couldn't walk another step and I couldn't wish for a better day.

By the numbers:
Miles run (Official): 26.2  - I don't have training miles, I'm not a junkie for excel like Kari
Time: 6:06:01
Weeks of official training: 19
Money Raised: $1782.50

That's right folks... Thanks to many of you, I blew my original and expanded goals out of the water! I will be posting later this week on gratitude, but I can't thank you all enough for what you have done here. By supporting me in my first marathon, you have given me the gift of a lifetime. It is an experience I will never forget and everywhere I looked that day, I was reminded of how much bigger this is than just me. Thank you.

Proud girls with our medals!

Upcoming: 
1. On gratitude and service
2. The next adventures