Rebekah Speaks

It seemed like forever ago. It was an odd feeling. For years, I've felt like I was beating my head against the proverbial wall. Try as I might, I was reduced to a slogger. (Interpretation: slow jogger) The bounce was gone. The joy a distant memory. I loathed the idea of competing because I wasn't any good at it anymore. Yes, I was older. Much older. I'm supposed to get slower. But still. . . Each time I stepped to the line, I simply wished for the finish; the between time merely action out of obligation. I tried to will up excitement for entering the fray but could not. But now. . .it was another story. I smiled. The Friday night before the Promise Land 50K is like a camp-out on steroids. Two-hundred or so of my fellow runners set up camp in the freshly mowed field in the shadow of the mountains through which we would run. People mill around, shoveling pizza and treats into their face, the calories welcomed in light of the Saturday's challenge. I was part of it this y

With less than two weeks to go before "Pace Yourself: 366 Devotions From the Daily Grind" is released, here is an excerpt originally written for May 1. Enjoy! I saw tragedy strike today right before my eyes. It was dreadful. I may have nightmares about it. With no deviation to the right or to the left, he walked straight toward the edge. He went purposely as if on a mission. He did not hesitate nor did he slow his steady pace. And then, it was over as quickly as it had begun. He disappeared into thin air and fell to his death. So just what was that caterpillar thinking? With all his little legs in full gear he plummeted into the pool, flailing just a bit before taking his last little bug breath. As I peered over the edge to see his floating body, he wasn’t alone. There on the surface of the water were thousands of drowned caterpillars. It was morbidly hilarious. The caterpillar nation must not have an early warning system to warn of imminent danger. Then I noticed th

Dryers are funny appliances and seem to have a life all their own. Socks go in and at least one never comes out. They refuse to give up the forgotten coin, hiding it among the tumbled clothes just to drive you crazy. And, despite hundreds of drying sessions of the same clothes, the lint trap is always full; so full that it's a wonder there are any intact threads left. But most interesting, did you know a dryer talks? I've always suspected it but as of late,  its messages have become loud and clear. "What does it say?" you may ask. A lot!  It speaks the loudest, almost screaming, when I open the door and empty the contents onto the kitchen counter. As I begin to sort and fold the still warm clothes, I hear the statements of fact. "You sure had a lot of stinking running clothes. Whew! You sweat so much! Gross. Look at all those grimy socks. And the running bras are getting a little worn, wouldn't you say? And hey, set my temp a little lower. You're sure

The time is flying until my new book hits the stands.  I have a big assignment to proof the proofreaders' and editors work and sign off on it...all before Monday evening.  But, with the cover (front and back) now complete along with the book's formatting, only a few weeks stand in front of a finished product. Stay tuned for ordering information in the next week or so.