I posted my New Year’s resolutions for 2010 when I started this blog. A few I finished, a few I flattered with, and a few I forgot.

That’s how it goes.

With my fingers crossed, I got into 2011 with hopes to accomplish the following things:

1) buy a wonderful new house that doesn’t leave me house poor…and hopefully also build our savings account. Lofty goals? yes, please.

2) get a workout routine going – one more focused on reducing stress than anything else. Yoga, perhaps?

3) be more giving in ways that aren’t boastful but bring joy to others (I’m going to journal this journey week by week, maybe on a separate blog. I’m still figuring that out, since my main goal is to learn to be more giving without expecting people to applaud me for it. I don’t plan to say a peep about this personal challenge unless it would inspire others).

4) read the Bible more often

5) floss more

6) take a trip with my mom

7) learn to sew

8) get my Wish Wreaths “business” on a role – perhaps with an etsy account! eek.

9) cook one really amazing meal for friends

10) journal/blog more

11) Write fewer “to do” lists and let life happen

….without further ado… Hello, 2011!

My husband turned 3o this week.

We celebrated with a professional cake made to look like a record player.

How many things can you rhyme with Uhde (pronounced Eww. D.)?

….I’ll give you a second….

I know of at least five that my “friends” in grade school liked to taunt me with.

This week, my precious Uhde – my last name of 28 years – officially became my middle name.

I’m a proud Shepherd, with a shiny new license to vouch for it. And now I’m imagining: For the first time, I’ll run into other people with my last name at the mall, or maybe at a restaurant when the hostess chirps “Shepherd,” more than just my group will run up to the hostess stand.

That’s never happened to me before.

Let me say this, too: I did debate long and hard, even years before I ever met my Mr. Shepherd, over whether I’d take my husband’s name after I was married. I love Uhde. Can’t help it.

When it came down to it, I didn’t have some mind-blowing reasoning. All I can say is that I’m honored to take my husband’s name and be united by that, and pass that on to our children. I also like the tradition of it, which my family has done for generations.

I very much admire the women who keep their last names, but I also realize that’s not for me.

Still, Uhde isn’t going anywhere. From now on, it’ll be sandwiched between the cozy normal-ness of my two other names.

And in the meantime, I’ll wonder: What does Shepherd rhyme with?

I just have to give props to the amazing businesses/professionals that helped make our wedding so fantastic. In no particular order:

Stellar Sweets, Rev. Brian Ebel of Revolution Church, Deejay Sam Sneed, Seelbach and its wedding planners, Nanz and Kraft flowers, Etsy.com creative geniuses including Lo Boheme, artist Twiggy Originals of Louisville, amazing photographers and videographers Derek Poore and Jonathan Palmer, graphic designer Cassie Stokes, River City Photo Booth rental, cake topper maker Sally Uhde, video collage maker Sara Cunningham, Studio E Photography, violinist Erin Arnold, Bridal Suite, Sara’s aunt who is a jewelry-maker, hair and makeup artist Matthew Tyldesley.

If I left anyone out, it’s only because I’m exhausted and forgot – please let me know!

And this doesn’t begin to cover all the help from family and friends.

And…thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!

A catch-up on the last six months: I postponed running (not by choice), got engaged, sold my condo, put my cat up for adoption, and learned how to pack all my clothes into a small closet.

So, the marriage part.

Brett and I were married two weeks ago, on July 31. And leading up to the Big Day, and just after it, we had many words of unsolicited advice and comments.

Here are some of them:

* “Is this your first marriage? There’s a 50 percent chance it will last.”

* “Oh, you’re so romantic now. Just wait 30 years.”

*”When you’ve been married a few years, you can just tell them to shut their mouths”

I don’t know, sometimes you say things without thinking, and I know I do that too. But I really hope I think harder before saying things like that to my newly engaged friends, even if it is in jest.

knockknockknock.

I tap on the door, gently pushing it against the wall as I search for Dr. Fortes.

The room is small and dark, with walls covered in posters from marathons and triathlons all over the country. Two beds fill up the center space, and in the corner sits a man with a visor. He’s on the cell phone booking a hotel.

When Dr. Fortes turns around, he hands me medical information and we start talking about my knee and how its hindering my running routine.

“I’m not your normal chiropractor,” he says.

An hour later, I understood.

By the time I left my new doctor, I had a diagnosis like I’d never expected: My left leg is shorter than my right.

As if I’m not already short enough at 5’2″, one side of me is even shorter! Does Ann Taylor Loft petites make jeans with a one “short” and one “shorter” leg?

He’s not making this up, either – the right side even weighs 15 pounds more.

Dr. Fortes says this is because when I sleep on my right hand side, my knee bends and puts my pelvic bone in a different position. Over time, that’s pulled my left leg up higher (somehow) and has caused the knee pain when I run.

It’s how he addressed it that was different. He took a silver tool similar to a blunt knife, dipped it in lotion, and rubbed – hard - all over my leg. It was painful.

If memory serves me, he said this process works out scar tissue and immediately starts improving the tissues.

He then covered my leg in pink tape (which I’m told helps drain out all the gunky stuff, so to speak) and had me on treadmills, stair steppers and other equipment, testing my knee pain.

Already, it had improved.

I took note of his instructions: Don’t sleep on your right side unless you bend both knees and put a pillow between them. And twice a day, walk around with one shoe on.

I returned today, nervously, hoping that he wouldn’t bring the knife out on my knee, which is bruised and swollen from the first appointment (this, he said, is normal).

He was understanding, promising to take it easy. Most of the time he had me skipping and lunging all over the empty gym.

I’ve tried family doctors. Sports medicine doctors. Physical therapists. And now a chiropractor.

Each time the diagnosis is different. Here’s hoping he’s right.

Relief.

This week, I decided to walk/run the April 24 mini marathon with my friend Sara. This allows me to rest my knee a bit and still complete a new year’s resolution.

And it voids the need for my mom to continue her “please stop running, for the sake of your knee” e-mails.

She’s right. My knee’s not fond of my hobby.

So while my training is uneventful this week due to my “knee vacation,” I thought I’d post the love story of my parents.

My mom just sent it to me – this is the shortened version. It’s such a great story.

Enjoy.

Love Discovered in Europe

We met while touring Europe.  How romantic is that?  We were both traveling on the same Globus Bus Tour for 3 fantastic weeks of visiting 7 European countries.  We first met in London, England, and the first time we talked we were standing in a long que to take a glance of the Crown Jewels.  However, it wasn’t until after the Amsterdam canal ride that we began sitting together for the long bus rides from country to country.  The European countries are rather compact, but we had plenty of bus riding time to be able to talk and get to know one another.  We discussed everything from politics to religion along with our goals and dreams.

We also got acquainted with one another while sightseeing.  In Switzerland we hugged while  enjoying a gorgeous view of the Alps surrounding us as we stood in a tiny valley.  While in Venice, Italy we shared a rather romantic gondola ride with another couple who were on our tour bus.  We were rather anxious when we finally admitted that we were lost while walking around Genoa.  We swam in the clear, blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea and sun bathed on the white pebbled beach in Nice, France.  We traveled by boat down the Rhine River in Germany and took pictures of the castles nestled along the bank.

We ate slices of thick Italian pizza and drank too much wine at the Gardens of Tivili.  In Paris, France we used our limited French to ask “Ou et le Louvre?”  Amazingly we understood the word “escalier” ( steps) in the directions, and sure enough at the top of the steps was Le Louvre!  Needless to say it was an amazing 3 week European tour!

Amost 39 years have passed since that European tour, and we have been married for 38 of them.  We are sharing  our lives together, still in love, and still best friends.

iOverwhelmed.

In the last month, I’ve added at iPod and an iPhone to my mix of modern-day equipment.

Then there’s my new tech-savvy Gmail account that’s been stuffed into the bouquet of yahoo, work and Facebook e-mails I already receive.

WHAT WAS MY PASSWORD TO THIS ACCOUNT AGAIN?

It’s crazy. But running has never been better.

The Nano has triumphed over my little Shuffle, allowing me to listen to everything from Animal Collective to the White Stripes – my choice! – during my mini-marathon training.

Because of a glitch with my Macbook (iBreakdown), I’ve been borrowing music from my boyfriend’s iTunes. The result has been a musical cocktail of techno, electronic, 80s and upbeat female bands. It’s allowed me to discover some good running songs.

Here are some of my top picks this week:

Bloc Party, This Modern Love

Animal Collective, Fireworks

Telepathe, Chrome’s On It

P.S. I recognize and am very thankful that I can have all this technology, even if I complain about being overwhelmed sometimes.

Look! I can outrun a boy!

Honesty first: My friend Derek did something amazing – nay, magical – to this photo that made me look skinnier. I swear he did. Even though he denies this photoshop makeover, I’ll forever thank him for it.
Anyway, here’s a pic of me running in Louisville. (OH, NOW THE BLOG NAME MAKES SENSE).

My friend Sara is forever inspiring me…she’s to blame for my collection of healthy green teas, girly-scented candles and a two-inch thick Franklin Covey planner that’s chock full of goals and plans.

So here, today, I copy her again. Here’s my blog. She started hers, chatterboxsara.wordpress.com, just mere minutes ago.

I plan in the future to write about my running routes in Louisville, jotting down notes on the scenery, music, and difficulty level. For now, I’ll start with the basics.

My year in preview:

1) This year, I’d really like to run another mini-marathon. My knee has left me behind in the Derby mini training, but perhaps traveling for a race is in my future.

2) Diversify my talents. Everything from classes on creative writing, grant writing and fundraising are in my future.

3) Help organize more events. I’ve had the opportunity to help organize a fundraiser for Down Syndrome of Louisville this year, and I’d love to keep that trend going.

4) Spend more time with my parents.

5) Save money!!!!…..!!!!!

6) Buy a bike. I’ve been deliberating this for a while. I think the time has come, even if I had a bias against bikers. Sorry, guys.

7) Take ballet classes and try out for a small part in a small-town theater production of The Nutracker (believe it or not, this is a possibility).

8) Get more involved with my church, Clifton Christian, and really put an effort into reading the Bible every night. Ultimately, I’d like to read it all the way through.

9) Do this blog. (CHECK! Holla.).

Hopefully I can provide some interesting things on here. If not, feel free to ignore it.

We’ll see how it goes.

Thanks, Sara!