I’m not sure who was more nervous on the ride over to the ceremony — B, with anxious anticipation to see her best friend, or me, who had no idea the outpouring of emotion I was about to witness. People who hadn’t seen their loved ones in months were finally getting to say hello again. New babies, children who hadn’t seen their moms or dads in months, were going to be reunited. The anxious energy in the room was palpable, as spouses white-knuckled their signs and patiently waited while the kiddos played around them.

Two video screens hung from the ceiling with a live feed as the soldiers loaded the buses to come to the building for the ceremony, and small cheers bubbled from the crowd with there s/he is’s and I can’t wait‘s. Soon, the doors opened and the soldiers came running in for their final lineup of this deployment.

When the first soldiers entered the room, the whole house erupted with cheers. Like you’re standing in the front row of a concert. Within moments, the energy in the room shifted from nervous to cheerful and excited… it was deafening at some points, especially when people in the crowd started to recognize the faces of those that they were welcoming home.

A few words from their superior and everyone started running. Hugs. Cheers. Tears. Kisses and hello‘s. I have never fought back tears so hard as I tried to maintain the focus of my lens. After a few tense moments on her tiptoes, she finally saw him.

I don’t think that smile will leave her face for days.

It’s especially poignant since Veteran’s Day is tomorrow…. it made me really grateful and was so humbling to see firsthand the sacrifices these families have given for our freedom. I’m so honored to have been here for B&T. So honored. Thank you, T, for your service; and B, to you, I am in your debt with gratitude for documenting this for you. Cheers to both of you — enjoy this time together.

I had those same butterflies on Tuesday evening. Nervous, unsettled, wondering what his experience would be like. We’ve been looking forward to, and talking about this day, for what has seemed like months. The backpack had arrived from our favorite online retailer. Lunchbox, check. Sharpened pencils, crayons, tissues, glue sticks. All ready to go.

Our car had the same nervous excitement yesterday morning as we drove little man to school that I had felt so many years ago. Our questions changed, but the answers didn’t, to the tune of: do you remember your teacher’s name? Yes, mom. Don’t forget to raise your hand when you have a question. Yes, mom. Be polite to new people you don’t know and introduce yourself. Yes, mom. Do you remember where the bathroom is? Yes, mom. Will you give me one more big hug? It will have to last me the WHOLE morning. Yes, mom.

I am so proud of him and the little man he’s become. As we got to school, I choked back the tears seeing him plunk down his backpack and eagerly look around the classroom, new adventures and experiences to be had. A note from the teacher was on his table, comforting those of us who were struggling with the reality that our little ones are becoming big kids. As if the portraits don’t show enough of how much he’s grown.

As we picked him up at the end of their half-day, we begged for all the details. It was awesome, he said. The best, ever. The playground a bumpy slide, and I love my new friends. Oh, Little Man, it’s just beginning.

I haven’t talked much about my half-marathon training lately. (Well, I haven’t talked about much of anything for that matter. Sorry for the radio silence the last few days.)

The truth: Training for this race has gotten intense. Not hard, not bad…just intense. I’ve logged just over 20 miles in the last 7 days, and have another 13-14 ahead of me yet this week. Twenty miles?! I never imagined I’d breathe those words in this context. But I am immensely proud of that fact.

I have to admit, though, I feel good. I hardly imagined that I’d look forward to the long runs as much as I do. I get lost in my feet moving, one ahead of the other, the steady thump-thump-thump of my feet as my mind clears of everything else. Sometimes I feel like my training, this process, is like peeling back an onion–each mile passed is like removing another layer, getting me closer what the end result is going to look like. And right now, if my half-marathon were tomorrow instead of 45 days away, I know I’d do alright.

Training for this race is teaching me to trust myself. That I’m capable of what I put my mind to….this is a big issue for me. It’s part of why I chose a race like this as my Big Fat Hairy Audacious Goal –  because in all honesty I wasn’t sure if I trust myself to literally, go the distance. I am surrounded by people who I’m awed and humbled with their unconditional confidence in me — because I find myself doubting my own capabilities from time to time. It’s terribly difficult for me to admit that, because I’m afraid of your judgment of me, and I would be devastated if I were to let someone down. But, love it or leave it, it’s the truth.

See you on the trails…

As such you might see a few changes here on the blog, my website, and my Facebook page.  It’s exposing. I’m giving you 100% me. Raw, real, authentic, honest. Just like my images. Some will like it, others might leave it. But I can’t deny the person who I am and let only the art do the talking — I’ve come to realize it’s important for you to know who I am, too. Because, really, I’m fun. I like to laugh. I make your portrait experience fun, comfortable, and stress free.

And it’s kind of fun too. I think this is my new favorite self-portrait. It takes me back to nearly eighteen months ago at Me Ra’s Discovery Workshop and the self-portraits we shared. A lot has changed since then. Oooooh boy, a lot.

Love me or leave me….at least you can say you know me.