44

That's how many years I have lived, as of today. I've celebrated so far by having a Pumpkin Spice Latte (thanks, Mom, for the Starbucks gifts card!), an omlette for breakfast (thanks George!) and a nice, long, ALONE run (also thanks to George).

Running helps my mind flow. I typically work out little problems (like what we need from the store), untangle the complexities of parenting both toddlers and teens, and how to handle client stuff.

But today, I let my mind run (no pun intended) with the whole birthday thing. I started thinking about how LONG 44 years is and what has changed in that time. For example, in high school I took typing (now it's called "keyboarding") on a real typewriter and used that skill to prepare my own and others' research papers in college (aahhh, the smell of White Out and typewriter ribbon ink). In grad school I learned to use a computer, which was seen as an improvement, but my papers came out on dot matrix printers and took forever. And right now I'm typing, oops! keyboarding these, my thoughts, on a laptop in my kitchen and when I'm done, the wireless router in our house will distribute this post to the Internet once I click on "publish post." A-MAZING.

I thought about how being born in 1963 technically classifies me as a Baby Boomer (1946-1964) but how sometimes I feel a little more like a Gen X-er (1964-1976). I counted how many times I've moved since birth (23), how many schools I've attended (11) and how many hairstyles I've had (lost count early in the process). In my 1 life I've had 2 careers, 3 mates, 4 children, and 5 cars. (I could actually go on, but you'd stop reading).

I thought about how much I've changed in 44 years, and how much I've stayed the same. I thought about what a comfort it is to know that my basic personality has been with me since birth, so I can know myself, but that I can also transform a few of the less-than-lovely parts. I'm pretty sure I'll always have freckles, though.

Towards the end of the run my mind started to wander towards the future and I realized that I didn't sense any anxiety or questioning. I thought "It's been 'all good,' (yes, even the crappy, painful stuff), and it will all be ok. Then I decided to enjoy the sun on my face, be grateful for it shining down on me and for the One who made it.