highlights of a long weekend in The Big Apple

For me, I think it’s hard to find the “right” thing to blog about. Regardless, I’d like to reenter the world of blogging. Recently I spent a long weekend in NYC for my boyfriend’s birthday. Even though I’ve been to New York about 10 times it was still difficult to plan a three day weekend there. For those of you who know me, which I’m assuming is everyone who’s reading this you know how much of a planner I am! But New York has SO many options of things to do, see, eat, drink, etc that it can get very overwhelming and expensive very quickly. So I’m going to highlight some of the places we went in hopes that they might help when you’re planning your next trip to the Big Apple!

 

Central Park

 

Where we stayed: Affinia 50. I can’t say enough great things about this cute little boutique hotel! As I said before I’ve been to New York several times, but always on my parents dime. I knew prices in New York were high, but damn. I searched the web to find the best deal I could, while still getting a quality place in a great location. Affinia has a couple of hotels in Manhattan, but this one was in the best location for us. With a complimentary Happy Hour each day it was a done deal! We were a few blocks from the subway, Starbucks lined just about every corner, our doorman was hilarious, and most importantly I felt safe!

Where we ate: We got to our hotel around 3pm and were starved! I really wanted a deli sandwich, but the birthday boy spotted a Mexican restaurant so that’s where we went. And, boy, am I glad we did! Dos Caminos was delicious. We each got Margarita’s to start; let’s be honest you CAN’T have Mexican without margaritas! The chips and salsa platter was also a hit – it came with three different types of salsa and variations of hotness. I had the Cobb salad, which the two of us could have shared it was so big. I have to figure out how to recreate that Basil Cilantro vinaigrette!

Grimaldi's in DUMBO – everyone knows that new York is known for its pizza, and I can honestly say this did not disappoint. They currently don’t serve alcohol which was a bummer, but we made the best of it toasting to 29 with root beers. A medium size pizza is more than enough to feed two people, but be prepared to wait in a long line; I promise it’s worth the wait! After dinner be sure to walk down to the pier. You get a great view of Manhattan, and there is a bar with alcohol. (we took the subway to get there – about 30 minute ride but only cost us $10 total roundtrip vs the $80 a cab would have cost)

 What we did: walking, walking, walking. Make sure you take comfortable shoes with you when you go to New York! We were about a 10 minute walk to Central Park, Time Square, Rockefeller Center, and The Chrysler Building – and we saw them all – on foot. One of the highlights of the trip for both of us, was our bus tour. I know, I know, I was skeptical at first, but it was awesome! We did the downtown loop with Big Bus tour (the double decked open air buses). Our bus was a hop on, hop off but we stayed put for the whole two hours just enjoying the ride. Our tour guide was so knowledgeable. Not only did we get to take in all the sites, but learned lots of history along the way. This to me, is the best way to see the city if you’re only there for a short period of time. They also offer an uptown loop and a Brooklyn loop, but we didn’t want to spend the ENTIRE day on a bus.

 

Atop the Big Bus; ready for our tour to begin!

 

Another big piece of advice I can offer is take cash! A lot of places, Grimaldi’s included, don’t take cards – shocking I know!  But it’s an easier way to keep track of how much you’re spending. So make a pit stop at that ATM on your way out of town because you don’t want to miss out on that slice of pizza or black and white cookie because all you’ve got in your pocket is plastic!

 While we had a wonderful three days in NYC, there really is no place like home!

Forget the Glass Slippers, this Princess wears running shoes.

October 28^th was one of the proudest days of my life. It’s hard to put into words how it felt crossing that finish line. I went from being the girl in elementary school who couldn’t even run a mile { at St. Paul 8 laps around the track was a mile, I’d always lie at about lap 5 and say I’d done 8} to a woman who just completed her first marathon. 

The road to 26.2 was not an easy one. I remember running Burke Lake in college, which is just shy of 5 miles, thinking to myself maybe I could run a half marathon. Just about 3 years ago I ran my first half marathon, and I was hooked. My dad’s first marathon was Marine Corps, and I knew that if I ever did a Marathon I wanted that to be my first as well. 

Expo Swag

They say “it takes a village to raise a child”, well it certainly took a village comprised of family and friends “to raise” this marathoner.  Don’t get me wrong I ran for myself, but knowing that so many people supported me, and believed in me kept me going when I wanted to quit. My family couldn’t be there on race day, but I know they were with me every step of the way. Taped in hot pink on the inside of my shirt were notes from family and friends encouraging me, and wishing me well. I also did mile dedications from 20-26 thinking about those special people each mile.

Race weekend made me feel as special as I do on my birthday. It was full of desk decorations, flowers, facebook posts, text messages, phone calls, and my favorite, lots of hugs. 

Desk Decorations

Since this was my first time I wanted to take full advantage of everything race weekend had to offer. Friday night Danny and I went to first timers pep rally. I wasn't sure what to expect but was looking forward to being around first time marathoners! With Hurricane Sandy looming there was lots of talk about how to run in the rain, what to wear for rain, etc. Rain on race day was my worst nightmare: wet feet and soaking clothes were not part of my training. If it rained on a day I was supposed to run, I would hit the treadmill. But, I was determined rain or shine I would finish. So, “Hurricane Sandy, had nothing on Hurricane Hadley.” Thankfully, Sandy was kind to us runners, and only gave us some strong winds and overcast skies.

My alarm went off at 5:17 am race morning, and as I got out of bed, and my feet hit the ground I thought to myself, this is it Hadley. Today is the day, it’s the day you’ve been training for. I laced up my bright pink shoes, pinned my Bib to my leg, and tightened my signature pony tail. I was ready. The road to 26.2 miles would be complete today.

I couldn’t help, but get choked up as I made my way to the Pentagon City Metro station. I wore number 30840 with pride, I had earned that number and my spot in this race, and I wasn’t going to let myself down. 

 Go Hadley Signs

They told us during the pep rally not to count miles up or down, but to just tell ourselves after every mile “I’ve got one more mile in me” and so I said to myself 26 times, I’ve got one more mile in me, and I did. The first few miles were my idea of hell, straight up hill. Thankfully, my good friend Carrie introduced me to a run that included Mass Ave which is over a mile up hill, so once a week after work I would set out on that run. My friend Daniel, who was also running somehow found me during the first few miles. It was so great to see a familiar face. Thankfully, for me that would not be the only familiar face I would see throughout the race. My wonderful friends Nikki and Carrie would be up ahead in Georgetown at mile 9 then again close to the Mall around mile 17. Having support on the course is invaluable. I had my name written on my shirt {I’m never one to pass up a compliment}, so I got several “go Hadley’s” from strangers. My favorite sign race day, was “ I’ve got a binder full of Marathoners”

At the halfway mark, 13.1 miles I stopped to go to the bathroom. One of my fellow runners had dropped their poopy diaper meters before the half way mark, leaving it in the middle of the course for all to see. I’m not intense enough to poop in a diaper, but waiting to pee did add about 15-20 minutes to my final time.

Big Bad Had

I’ve never run to beat a certain time, it’s always been about finishing for me. But in the back of my head I knew I had to reach the gauntlet {mile 17} and beat the bridge {mile 20} by a certain time or I would be taken off the course and bused to the end. I joked with all of my friends that I would run from the bus, if it came to that, which thankfully it did not.

As I crossed the bridge from DC to Virginia I spotted Danny, right after mile 20. I was feeling good, and had just started my “don’t stop” playlist on my ipod. My wall came at about mile 22. Everything hurt. Twenty-two miles was the furthest I had run. I looked to my right and saw two bright pink posters, there were Sarah and Kara. I told myself I’ve got one more mile.

The quote that played in my head throughout my whole race was “At mile 20 I thought I was dead, At mile 22 I wished I was dead, At mile 24 I knew I was dead, At mile 26.2 I realized I had become too tough to kill.” And at mile 24 I did know I was dead. It was the on ramp to 395, and the slightest incline was painful. I knew I had come this far without stopping or walking, and I would not let myself quit.

Mile 25

I ran beside countless men and women in uniform and people running in honor of loves ones they had lost during war. Runners all around me were walking or quitting, and I was not going to be one of them. At mile 25 I wanted to cry. Not because I was happy, but because I wanted to give up, and then beside me on their bikes were Carrie and Danny. I told myself I’ve got one more mile.

Mile 26, every marathoners happy place. I knew that the finish line was a hill, and that I would somehow have to conquer that hill. I knew Lisa, Amanda, Sarah, Danny, and Carrie would be there to see me conquer that hill.  In Five Hours thirty-nine minutes and nine seconds I ran the Marine Corps Marathon. I fought back the tears when I crossed that finish line. I had done it, I was a marathoner. I walked to Iwo Jima were a marine placed my finishers medal on my neck. I cried, and we hugged. My road to 26.2 was complete, and I definitely proved that, “this princess wears running shoes.” 

 Marine Corps Marathoner!

Why do i run?

Big Bad Had, during my 2nd 1/2 marathon

The simple, short answer is; so I can eat. When I was younger the only way you could get me to do anything, or at least anything I didn’t really want to do was to promise me a treat upon completion. My brother, stood at the bottom of the high dive at Sequoia with a box of Krispy Kreme donuts as an incentive for me to take the plunge, walks to the park with Sarah happened because I knew there was a 20 piece nugget meal waiting for me under that golden McDonalds arch. It’s common knowledge to people who know me that I run so I can eat.

headband with my moto on it " I run so i can eat" for my 3rd 1/2 marathon

I remember very vividly the first race I ever did. It was the Rudolph 5k in Nashville, with my whole family – there’s a picture that is engrained in my mind of me literally being dragged, each parent holding an arm, during the race. The look on my face said, I hate this and both of you for making me do this.

I didn’t start running, until high school and even then I was lucky if I made it a mile. I kept a running journal of my times, which route I ran, and the time of day, striving each day to get a little faster than the one before. I’ve struggled with weight my whole life, but when my feet hit that pavement, I feel light as a feather.

I didn’t fall in love with running until about 2 years ago. The past 2 years have been a tough time for me, emotionally and aside from finding comfort in friends and family, running provided me with an outlet for my frustrations and hurt, a goal for me to strive for, and a sense of accomplishment I never thought possible. If I go more than a few days without running, I start to miss it and yearn to be out there just me and my ipod pushing myself to go a little further each time.

after my very first 1/2 marathon

Twenty years ago, if you had said that girl in the picture, being dragged by her parents would be running her first marathon in October I would have said there’s no way in hell! Well, at the end of my marathon it may take both my parents each dragging one of my arms across that finish line, but the look on my face will tell a totally different story than that of 6 year old Hadley, it will say, I run because I love it.

Dad & Had

I've always thought of myself as a daddy's girl. Maybe it's because I look like him, sweat like him, and have small eyes like him, or it could be because I inherited his sense of humor. There's just something about the bond between a father and a daughter. Growing up I idolized my dad: I looked forward to him coming home every night, dancing on his feet to oldies song, our semi-annual shopping trips at the mall, and special Dad and Had time.

It's hard when you're growing up to think of your parents as people - you just simply think of them as your parents. As I've grown and gotten to know both of my parents as adults I have realized what incredible people they are, and I'm so fortunate to not only know my dad as a person, but to call him one of my best friends. Often times he is the first person I call for advice or to share news with. His thoughts are usually pretty rational and his advice, spot on.

He's always been there to tell me I'm beautiful -even when I didn't think I was- encourage me to follow my dreams, congratulate me on my successes, help me learn from my failures, and to mend my broken heart. His drive and passion for life are inspiring, his selflessness -humbling-, and his sense of humor and smile are contagious. Everyday I'm thankful for him and our relationship, and proud to call him my dad.

IT'S POSSIBLE, FOR A PLAIN YELLOW PUMPKIN TO BECOME A GOLDEN CARRIAGE.
IT'S POSSIBLE, FOR A PLAIN COUNTRY BUMPKIN AND A PRINCE TO JOIN IN MARRIAGE.
AND FOUR WHITE MICE ARE EASILY TURNED TO HORSES.
SUCH FOLDEROL AND FIDDLE-DEE-DEE OF COURSE IS.......
QUITE POSSIBLE. IT'S POSSIBLE.
SO THE WORLD IS FULL OF ZANIES AND FOOLS,
WHO DON'T BELIEVE IN SENSIBLE RULES,
AND WHO WON'T BELIEVE WHAT SENSIBLE PEOPLE SAY.
AND BECAUSE THESE DAFT AND DEWY-EYED DOPES
KEEP BUILDING UP IMPOSSIBLE HOPES,
IMPOSSIBLE......THINGS ARE HAPPENING EVERY DAY.
IT'S POSSIBLE.

Just like mom

I never understood why she did a lot of the things that she did; now i find myself doing the exact same things. "Why are you cleaning for Granny and Granddady to come visit, they're your parents they don't care what thehouse looks like" i would say to her. Whenever my parents come to visit the week leading up to their arrival i'm vacuuming the apartment, doing laundry, scrubbing toilets- just like my mom did. When i would pull out my lunch at school that my mom had made i was horrified to find the Kroger brand pudding, or Kroger brand pretzels in my lunch box. "Why do you have to buy the generic brands" i would ask my mom, everyone else has name brands {yes, at this stage in my life i was kind of a bitch} Every Monday - Friday that i pack my lunch at work most items are Harris Teeter brand just likewhen my mom would pack my lunch.

When i was younger i would try to hide certain things from my mom, or avoid answering questions when she would ask. Now that i am older i can't wait to tell my mom things; often times calling her late at night or early in the morning because i have things that i want to share with her. My mom is one of my best friends. Someone i know that i can tell anything, and not be judged for what i say. She listens with a mothers heart.

My mom has always been there, something that i tended to take for granted growing up, because the last thing that a teenage girl wants is for her mother to be around all the time. Now, that i'm an "adult" i urn for quality time with my mom because it is few and far between.

It was not until i got older that i saw my mom as a person, and not just "mom" she's stronger than she gives herself credit for, wiser than i ever gave her credit for, has such a pure heart, and to have put up with my brother and me for all of those years the patience of a saint. I can only hope that one day i will be just like my mom.

CoWorkers

Dictionary.com defines a coworker as: a fellow worker; colleague. Over the past almost three years, I have formed a completely different definition of the word, coworker. Infact, I hate using the word coworker because of what it implies, simply someone whom you work with.

For me, the people that I work with are more like family. I spend more time with them than my own blood family, roommates, or friends. Some might say that we're an unlikely group, but we fit together like a puzzle. Sarah, Sarah, Nikki, Carrie, & I compliment each other. We all have our own qualities and attributes that others don't, but enough similarities that brought us together and keep us laughing day after day. Because of them I push myself to try new things, to be more open-minded, and over all just a better person.

Most people try to keep their distance at work, not divulging too much personal information, but not us. I love the fact that I know I have these girls to confide in, get advice from, laugh with, and eat lunch with every day. What's most important though is I know on any given day I have someone here who has my back, and cares about me outside of the professional environment.

As time moves on, and so do our careers I know the bond that we've created can't be broken. So dictionary.com I suggest you revisit that definition of a coworker.

Houston, we have a problem... here comes Hadley!

The Girl Scout National Council Session is like the Super Bowl of Girl Scouting. Every Council across the Country sends representatives who descend on a city, this year it's Houston. For four days there will be booths, speeches, celebrations, sessions, and of course the kick- off to our anniversary year, and I will be right in the thick of it!

"I have already been communicating with several councils; they'd be able to put a pretty face to my name. I have wanted to participate in a National Council Session since I heard about the Indiana session that was in progress when I began work here in 2008. I promise to arrive with a smile on my face and ready to work." An expert from my essay on why I think I should be selected to go to convention. It worked, because Houston here I come!

HRH

I didn't do it for a family member, friend, coworker, or for work. I did it for me. I was told by a friend that I have a fighting heart, just like a lion. I joked with my roommates that when I got the flu that the "mighty lion had fallen", but thankfully this mighty lion ultimately came out victorious.

13.1 miles was so much more than the 2 hours 17 minutes and 42 seconds that it took for me to cross that finish line. It's been 25 years in the making. When I thought I couldn't do it, I could hear my parents voices in my head telling me how proud they were of me, or my friends voices telling me keep on moving Bubba. I had fuel from homemade pasta the night before, and comfort in knowing that three of my friends were running as well. Not once did I walk and not once did I stop.

Pink and black, that was my color scheme for the race, which I'm sure comes as no surprise to most. Unfortunately, that was the color choice for most of the other girls who ran the race as well. Runners were to report to the starting line at 6:15 to get in their respective "corrals" at 6:55 I was still in my car fighting through traffic to find somewhere to park, praying to God that I would not miss the start of the race, taking off layers of clothing and pinning my bib to my shirt. At 7:02 the first tears streamed down my face as I still sat in my car. I can't miss this race, I've trained too hard for this, and not to mention four of my best friends were en route to cheer me on as a crossed the finish line. I made the decision then and there that I would park my car, illegally and take the fine or imminent car tow, to complete the race.

I put my iPod on and ran the mile + to the stadium armory, full bladder and all, determined to run this race. Twenty-six minutes after the initial gun was shot, I began my journey to 13.1 miles.

I did the YMCA with Howard University students, high-fived complete strangers, grabbed water from enthusiastic volunteers, and "ran through history" But on Saturday, March 26, 2011 I made my own history. HRH- Hadley the Runner Hines

I used to be fat

The New TV show starts tonight on MTV, I used to be fat. It follows overweight teens who have just graduated from high school, and gives them the tools that they need to overcome their weight problems. http://www.mtv.com/shows/i_used_to_be_fat/series.jhtml

Well, I used to be fat. I was always the heaviest girl in my class, and many times I was heavier than most of the boys in my class. I always had friends, and never got down on myself like so many overweight kids do. Maybe it's because I had an amazing family and friends who never criticized me for my size, but instead encouraged me to get healthy with family workouts to Richard Simmons sweating to the oldies, and an exercise chart where we earned stars for our healthy habits.

My Best Friend Stephanie and I circa 1997

It was not until my weight became a health concern that my lifestyle changed. I remember spraying pam into my mouth because it had no nutritional value and no calories. But again, my family ate what I ate, well aside from spraying Pam in their mouths. I was never singled out.

Sure, I got made fun of: I remember vividly, walking up the stairs and one of the older boys making a loud beeping noise, simulating the noise a large truck would make when backing up, or walking down the hall and someone saying mooooove implying I was as big as a cow. Instead of getting down on myself, or doing something harmful I think that all of these things softened my heart. It made me more cognoscente when I went to say a mean or hurtful thing to someone, and made me want to be a friend to all.

Years later I can look back on all of these things and laugh. Being fat never defined who I was because I didn't let it, and those around me wouldn't have allowed it. Even at my heaviest I was still out there on the soccer field playing my heart out, or in the middle of the sleeping bags at a slumber party, and of course the first one to ask for seconds at a birthday party.

I've come to accept the fact that i will never be the skinniest of my friends, and that's ok. Body image will always be something that hits close to home with me, but also a victory for me and how far I've come. In March, God willing, I will complete my first half marathon, and I can proudly say, I used to be fat, but not anymore.

faith

Some people say I have too much, some say I fall too hard, and love too deeply. they're usually the ones picking up the pieces when my faith gets the best of me.

I believe in God, I pray every night, but I'm not so sure I would consider myself to be an incredibly religious person. Yes, some of my faith does come from religious virtues, but a lot of it comes in other forms.

A simple good deed done by a stranger, neighbors helping neighbors in good times and in bad gives me faith in humanity.

knowing that no matter what I do, or have done - whether it be rack up some pretty hefty credit card bills, or lying about getting my ears pierced, I've got family and friends who love me unconditionally gives me faith that undying love exists.

I have faith in my dreams and in my future for what lies ahead because of those who have done it before me, do it with me, and for those who stand behind me.

I believe in happy endings, that some dreams really do come true, and the ones that don't make room for new ones. I believe that it's easier to see the good in others, until the bad is just too blinding, and even then sometimes it takes being in complete darkness to really see the light.

my faith is what gets me into trouble, what keeps me going, and what I can't live without.

"a little faith will bring your soul to heaven,

but a lot of faith with bring heaven to your soul."

Monkvember

Diet Coke is my crack. I would rather have a diet coke than anything else to drink; I crave that bubbly goodness.

Patience and Self-Control are both virtues that I do not possess, or at least so I thought. A few weeks ago, my good friend Sarah { Sarah of Goldman/Hines Productions Inc} was telling us about Monkvember. Kind of like lent, but it's a month to not only give up certain things but also to do things that better yourself.

I've never successfully completed lent. I've tried giving up chocolate or swear words, and I find myself eating a piece of chocolate without even thinking about it and them damning myself for doing so, thus ruining lent in one, no pun intended foul swoop. I liked the idea of Monkvember because I saw it more of a challenge than penance.

So my list of Monkvember is:

Limit myself to no more than one Diet Coke a day

Run at least 15 miles a week

Cook at least two legit meals a week

talk to my grandmother at least once a week

Read at least 75 pages

As you can tell by my list I opted for the better yourself choices as opposed to the do without choices. All of the things on my list were carefully picked. They are things that I want to do, but sometimes need an extra push to get them done. Luckily for me, my friends have got my back so if we're out and I go to have another diet coke it's " We're going to tell Sarah" or " haven't you already had a diet coke today". I'm hoping to keep up with my choices even beyond Monkvember.

Half way through with the month and so far each week I have stuck to my Monkvember. I can successfully call myself a recovering diet coke addict at this point. Now, maybe someday I'll work on getting rid of the self tanner.

Small Town Southern Man

Class of 1938 from the Virginia Military Institute, a self-made man working his way up through the ranks, Perry M. Gwaltney Jr is the greatest Veteran I know.He signed up for active duty for the 116^th Field Artillery, Florida National Guard. My granddaddy was stationed in Okinawa, Japan during World War II.

My Grandaddy: Perry M. Gwaltney, Jr.

He would rarely talk about his time in the military always changing the subject to something more pleasant. But one thing he would gladly talk about day and night was his time at VMI. He wore his class ring everyday, and when it was time to get dressed up he would proudly sport his VMI tie. I"m honored to have that same tie and his diploma hanging on my wall. A constant reminder of his hard work and dedication to give himself and his family a better life.

Allegheny Country Club, Sewickley, PA where we spent our summers

He worked at the Pentagon for the water port general staff once he got home from the war. His work was top secret, in the messaging department for General Marshall and lasted several months until be began working at Chubb and Son. With a degree from Harvard he was a force to be reckoned with.

Chubb and Son was referred to as “ the tiffany’s of the business” and provided my granddaddy a home until his retirement. He worked as an underwriter for the company. It came as no surprise that he worked his way up in the company to director and ultimately senior vice president.

Cartoon that hung in my grandparents house.

He loved to read, eat, play golf, and tennis, but above all else he loved to spend time with his family. Every Tuesday and Thursday my granddaddy and I would have phone dates. It was mostly me talking about school, parties, college life, friends, boyfriends, etc, he was always a great listener, probably because he was so shocked at the things I would share with him. He would always tell me to work hard, and encourage me to follow my dreams. He served our country and protected our freedoms, and for that I will forever be thankful. He was a man of true integrity, and a true gentleman. So granddaddy I salute you and all of the other men and women who have so bravely served our country. I hope that he's letting the cheap vodka flow up there in Heaven.

A proud Granddaughter... let the legacy continue

And he bowed his head to Jesus
And he stood for Uncle Sam
And he only loved one woman
(He) was always proud of what he had
He said his greatest contribution
Is the ones you leave behind
Raised on the ways and gentle kindness
Of a small town Southern man
(Raised on the ways and gentle kindness)
(Of a small town Southern man)

Well-Behaved Women Rarely Make History

Frances Hadley, the Matriarch of the Hines family, the original Hadley, and my namesake is my inspiration for this entry. My grandmother, or Grandma as we call her is the epitome of a Southern Lady: She is always well put together, a wonderful cook, loving mother, wife, grandmother, great grandmother, and friend, she's in a book club, active in her church, not afraid to tell you like it is, comes with a thick Southern Accent, and she could probably drink you under the table.

My Grandma & Me

Many of my fondest memories with her occurred in the kitchen. Sadly, her wonderful culinary skills weren't passed down to me, but I'm still a work in progress. Thanksgiving has always been in Georgia with the Hines side of the family, and with my grandma at the helm of the meal. It was not until recently that she's relinquished some of the cooking duties to other members of the family { and why not, my cousin Alan is a chef and my aunt Chap is a great cook!} Grandma's always humming, or whistling while cooking, that is one thing I got from her. I always love to have music on when I'm cooking, because Lord knows no one wants to hear my humming or singing while cooking.

She always tries to make things special for everyone. My dad LOVES cherry pie, so every Thanksgiving, even though it's not the traditional dessert she would make him a "chewwy pie". Birthdays in my house have always been a very big deal. That's your day that you feel special, get to choose where to eat, and what kind of cake you get. I have a feeling my love for birthdays and making others feel so special has something to do with her.

Some of the Hines women

My grandma has just recently undergone a hybrid open heart surgery, and has begun her road to recovery surrounded by family and friends and well wishes from all over the country. I know that the original Hadley has got a fighting spirit, and I've already told her not to worry about Thanksgiving because I may not be incredibly skilled in the kitchen, but I am damn good at giving orders. I know she'll be back to normal and better than ever in no time because she certainly lives by the creed " Well-Behaved Women Rarely Make History"

LYLAS

Love Ya Like A Sister:

This term became pretty popular when I was in elementary school, and has since faded away into overused slang heaven. So I've decided to revisit it. Although it's cheesy it also has great truth to it. I am blessed to have an amazing big brother, whom I love more than anything, let me just say that first and foremost, I would not trade him for the world. But as many girls do, I always wanted a sister: someone to share makeup and clothes with, talk about boys, etc. Although I may not have any of blood relation, I'm damn lucky to have some friends who I consider to be more like my family.

Stephanie, Jordan, Elizabeth, & Sarah have all been some of my best friends for what seems like to be forever. We've been through disasters, deaths, divorces, dumpings, delinquency, and all that falls in between. They have all supported me at my worst and been my biggest cheerleaders when I was at my best.

Stephanie and I met in the first grade during our brothers Cub Scout Meeting. We were sitting on the swing set at our Elementary School sipping on lemonade. You know the phrase opposites attract? Well, physically Stephanie and I were as different as night and day. Many referred to her during her childhood as Anne Frank, super skinny with dark hair, braces, big glasses, and some thick bangs. If you've read my previous blog entries you know that I was the fat girl, with light hair, and squinty eyes. Obviously, we were the perfect match; SS & HH. She pushes me to do things outside of comfort zone, reminds me to take time for myself, constantly tells me how it is whether I want to hear it or not. I think my mom puts it best, " She's just Steph. tride and true. She will always be there."

Jordan and I met before we started Kindergarten at a birthday party. She was my very first friend at St. Paul. We were both daddy's girls,loved all things girly, boy crazy, and always getting in trouble for talking. Fast Forward to 20 years later and if you met us individually you would never think we could be best friends. Jordan is always wearing the latest trends, partying at the coolest places, and never ceasing to amaze me with her fashion choices. I wear my little sun dresses and Ann Taylor sweaters. She is my humor, my advice giver, my reassurer that everything is going to be ok even if it feels like it won't be, and the best hugger, and she's promised me when I get married she'll take the black nail polish off.

Elizabeth & Sarah were mentioned in a previous post so I won't bore ya'll with repeating our story. Neither Elizabeth or Sarah are super emotional:Everyone knows I'm the first to say how much I love them, or how grateful I am for their friendship so I think jokingly when we would return to our respective homes { all on the same street} our parting words would be LYLAS, how appropriate. Back then it was a joke, but those girls truly are family.

We may not dress alike, have the same taste in music or boys, at times we're a bit dysfunctional but that's what makes us, us. There's a quote that I love about best friends : "We're best friends because our mothers couldn't have handled us as sisters." so ladies, LYLAS.

Things Remembered

Annoyed. Why is Things Remembered so crowded on a rainy Wednesday night I thought to myself as I waited in a long line to get a gift engraved.

So in true Hadley fashion I turned to the woman and her son waiting next to me in line and struck up a conversation. The son was picking up his attendant gifts for his wedding in three days. We talked about his big day, the rehearsal dinner, and the honeymoon. The mother just smiled and commented here and there about her "baby's" big day. She later told me how embarrassed she was about her old t-shirt and sweats she was wearing, she vowed that she would never come to the mall in this but that she wants to spend every second she can with her son, because he lives in England. I laughed and told her she looks fine, and I understood completely as I don't live close to either of my parents.

Will, Dad, & Me

They both noticed that I was wearing a Race for the Cure t-shirt, and inquired if I was a runner? I thought about making some ridiculous comment, but instead replied "yes, I would like to think of myself as a runner." The conversation went on from there, and ended with them giving me information on a 10K run to benefit mesothelioma. As the mother went onto explain the race tears streamed down her face as she told me it was to benefit her husband who succumbed to the horrible disease recently. I couldn't help but to give her a hug as tears started to stream down my face. As the line dissipated and they got their gifts, we said our goodbyes and as they walked out the son said " by the way, I'm coming home early from my honeymoon for the race, so if you can't make it don't feel bad." I laughed and replied " I will be there."

Me, Will, & Mom

One hour and four minutes. That was my 10k time that rainy Sunday morning. As I ran Burke Lake with people I had never met, benefiting a man I never had the privilege to know I felt so blessed for everything in my life: family, friends, a great job, good health, the list is endless. I approached the mother and son after the race, I never told them my name nor did I know there's so as I reached out my hand to introduce myself I said hi, I'm Hadley the girl from Things Remembered. Olga, hugged me and again we both began to cry. That race, that day, that family are things i will always remember.