Well, it's been nearly a month. I am recovered for the most part from my big day in Madison. Though, I have to admit, I keep having pangs of longing. I really miss the excitement, goal and schedule of Ironman. That said, I also LOVE my new found 'down time'. I do NOT miss the fear of failing, or wondering if I am capable of doing this thing called Ironman. So, as always, there are two sides to every coin.
I recently received the video of my finish....thought some of you might enjoy seeing it (again). Thanks again for everything. It's been an amazing trip! Until next season....
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
140.6
As many of you know, I did it; sassy-femme (aka Jennifer Jabson) is an Ironman. Unbelievable. As promised the race inspired a full range of emotions from denial and fear all the way to the pinnacle of exhilaration. I am still unable to articulate the sense of joy and bursting relief that surged through me when I crossed the finish line on Sunday night.
It had been a long day of swimming, climbing hills on my bike and then running through the city of Madison. Then, in a dark, quiet neighborhood, about a mile from the finish line, I began to hear the dull roar of the crowds ahead. I rounded another corner or two and around the buildings I could see the glow of what I new were the blazing finish line lights. Another corner, and a second. Then the darkness and silence was broken. There were
people in the streets again, people cheering me on...me, lil' old Jenny Jabson, me. And there, at the final turn, there was the crowd, the blinding white lights, the finish line and that great big voice announcing, "Jennifer Jabson, you are an Ironman". I held my breath in order to choke back the tears that were a mixture of my relief and my joy that came from fulfilling a dream that started so many years ago. But I have gotten ahead of myself, here's how the day went.
We got up at 3:30 a.m. to get ourselves ready. At 4:30 a.m. we boarded a shuttle with several other nervous nellies and their support crews and then arrived for body marking at 5 a.m. I felt like an ant in an ant hill trying to get my tasks done amidst ten-million other little ants. There was a buzz in the air that made my skin have goosebumps and my heart pound. Walking slowly in the dim light of the parking lot lights to my bike I checked my heart rate....it was off the charts. I kept thinking 'breathe, breathe'. It was still dark out, that felt safe, and also somehow very wrong.
We had our wetsuits on and we were warming up in the water by 6:23 a.m. just before the official sunrise. The water was a really nice 71 degrees, and there was a warm hue that promised a gorgeous sunrise out over the horizon. Initially I felt pretty calm. Then at 6:59, the announcer promised the cannon would fire in less than one minute. "YIKES, I'VE MADE A MISTAKE, I THINK I NEED TO GE...." at 7 a.m. the cannon went off. That's when calm left the scene and my new friend 'oh dear god swim for your life' joined me.
So I put my head down and I swam the best 2.4 miles that I have ever swam, 1:27.
The transition to the bike was much longer than I had planned or hoped for (nearly 13 minutes). I ran/walked/pulled myself out of the water, got
stripped by the wetsuit strippers (which is so funny to write, and yes I had a swim suit on underneath) and then ran up the 'helix' to the top of the parking garage to go into the hotel to get the needed cycling gear and change for the ride (doesn't that sound long???). I successfully changed into cycling-femme (from swimming-femme), and ran to my bike (after making the first of what was undoubtedly 110 bathroom stops for the day). The transition was a blur of wetsuits, sandwiches, cycling jerseys, and women running around trying to do an Ironman and I can hardly remember anything except that I kept thinking "omg, I got out of the water so fast!!!".
Riding down the second helix back to the road (what's the deal with these helix things anyway? Ground level transitions would be SO much easier...less dramatic sure, but EASIER...it IS an ironman people!) I quickly realized that my bike computer had died. The last information it gave me was '2.3' the speed that I had started walking with my bike in the transition. So I did what all self respecting Ironpeople do....I hit it again and again hoping to shock it into submission. Nothing. Dead. As a doornail.
The ride portion of the day was the longest portion of the day. It included 112 miles of gorgeous Wisconsin countryside, thousands of support crew/volunteers, more spectators than I could count and hills like I could have never predicted. I did know that the course was hilly and we spent a lot of our training on hills during the preparation for this event. But the relentlessness of the hills on the 80 mile loop was amazing. I have never worked so hard and had so much challenge and euphoria at the same time. We gained 6000 feet!! I'm telling you, it was awesome. The views were breathtaking, the cows were also, well, breathtaking (but in a very different way). It was amazing. 8:02 was my final bike time. This is two minutes over my goal, but a) I did stop at 89 porta-bathrooms and b) did I mention the hills???
The transition (T2) to the run was wacky. I got of my bike, hugged my Mom (yep I sure did!), and gulped back a little tear. I was whipped. But, after instructing the volunteer who took my bike to sell her, b/c I would certainly not ever be riding her again, I trotted into the T2 area to do my third costume change....runner-femme.
Runner-femme was more like walker-hope-I can-do this-femme for about 12 minutes. Then, suddenly I felt like running (which is insane....think about it...112 miles on a bike and I felt like going for a run???). So I did. I ran about 50% of the marathon portion of the race. At mile 12.9 I thought I was going to loose it. My body hurt, but more than that my brain was telling me to
stop. My brain was playing for the other team and had no intention of letting me feel the euphoria of crossing the finish line. Thankfully I met a very nice man who gave some great advice. He provided instructions for how to keep the body moving....despite the tapes in my head. Yea for Doug! So I kept moving. Then I saw my family and friends...got lots of hugs and kisses and good energy and I was off. The second 13.1 was hard, challenging in a way that words cannot describe. I thought of nothing. My mind was a blank. The act of moving forward became a mechanical, singularly focused action. I did not think of the finish, only of the moment. What did I feel, what did I need, what was the time....the moment (whichever one it was) was all my brain could handle.
The food on the run course was 'awesome'. When I say 'food' I mean water, ice chips, wet sponges, gatoraid, cola, chicken broth, gel packs, bananas and oranges. When I say 'awesome' I mean that there was plenty of it and the volunteers would practically hold a glass for you while you drank if you needed it. Truly, w/o the broth and cola, I would have been a goner. The salt kept me from cramping (I've never had need for this before....but I had been out there for 12 hours when I started craving the broth), and the cola was really great for my upset tummy. Three cheers for 'gourmet' race food (I've gone too far with the description I know).
FInally, at about 11:10 I realized that I was going to make it. I wasn't willing to think about it, or able to think about it, prior to that moment. But in that second, it all became real. The emotion swelled up in my throat (which is exactly what you don't need after 16 hours and 10 minutes of aerobic exercise!!!), and I could hear the spectators screaming, encouraging and cheering for us....the back-of-the-packers! They waited for us!!! So I started to jog...even though it was uphill...I jogged around a corner and there were people in the street cheering me on....I rounded another corner and I could see the glow of the spot lights...then there they were....thousands of people screaming like I have never heard before. Then they started yelling my name. Me! My name (granted I was wearing it on the front of my shirt: 2030 JENNIFER). So I focused, and I ran...I ran into the lights...under one arch and into the IRONMAN FINISHER tape to the second arch....and I heard: JENNIFER JABSON: YOU ARE AN IRONMAN.
Total time : 16.22.53....my secret goal time that I never told anyone!
I did it. I finished. It was an out of body experience. It was an IN body experience. It was the most challenging, heart wrenching, exhilarating, joyful, powerful, incredible, HARD, empowering experience of my life. I am unable to adequately articulate the range of emotions, the depth of emotions, or the feeling that comes when the boundaries of the body and the mind blur to become one.
As I have said before, thank you. Thank you for your encouragement and support all year in this process. I felt each of you out there with me at one point or another on race day. I called on your encouraging words, and laughed at your jokes. Sometimes I pretended that you were watching me from the W Coast....and as it turns out some of you where (props to you!!!!). I could not have made this journey on my own. You helped me get there and I am deeply and sincerely grateful for your contributions. From my perspective there is only one thing left to say: when is the next one? :) I'm kidding...sort of. But really:
It had been a long day of swimming, climbing hills on my bike and then running through the city of Madison. Then, in a dark, quiet neighborhood, about a mile from the finish line, I began to hear the dull roar of the crowds ahead. I rounded another corner or two and around the buildings I could see the glow of what I new were the blazing finish line lights. Another corner, and a second. Then the darkness and silence was broken. There were
people in the streets again, people cheering me on...me, lil' old Jenny Jabson, me. And there, at the final turn, there was the crowd, the blinding white lights, the finish line and that great big voice announcing, "Jennifer Jabson, you are an Ironman". I held my breath in order to choke back the tears that were a mixture of my relief and my joy that came from fulfilling a dream that started so many years ago. But I have gotten ahead of myself, here's how the day went.We got up at 3:30 a.m. to get ourselves ready. At 4:30 a.m. we boarded a shuttle with several other nervous nellies and their support crews and then arrived for body marking at 5 a.m. I felt like an ant in an ant hill trying to get my tasks done amidst ten-million other little ants. There was a buzz in the air that made my skin have goosebumps and my heart pound. Walking slowly in the dim light of the parking lot lights to my bike I checked my heart rate....it was off the charts. I kept thinking 'breathe, breathe'. It was still dark out, that felt safe, and also somehow very wrong.
We had our wetsuits on and we were warming up in the water by 6:23 a.m. just before the official sunrise. The water was a really nice 71 degrees, and there was a warm hue that promised a gorgeous sunrise out over the horizon. Initially I felt pretty calm. Then at 6:59, the announcer promised the cannon would fire in less than one minute. "YIKES, I'VE MADE A MISTAKE, I THINK I NEED TO GE...." at 7 a.m. the cannon went off. That's when calm left the scene and my new friend 'oh dear god swim for your life' joined me.
So I put my head down and I swam the best 2.4 miles that I have ever swam, 1:27.The transition to the bike was much longer than I had planned or hoped for (nearly 13 minutes). I ran/walked/pulled myself out of the water, got
stripped by the wetsuit strippers (which is so funny to write, and yes I had a swim suit on underneath) and then ran up the 'helix' to the top of the parking garage to go into the hotel to get the needed cycling gear and change for the ride (doesn't that sound long???). I successfully changed into cycling-femme (from swimming-femme), and ran to my bike (after making the first of what was undoubtedly 110 bathroom stops for the day). The transition was a blur of wetsuits, sandwiches, cycling jerseys, and women running around trying to do an Ironman and I can hardly remember anything except that I kept thinking "omg, I got out of the water so fast!!!".Riding down the second helix back to the road (what's the deal with these helix things anyway? Ground level transitions would be SO much easier...less dramatic sure, but EASIER...it IS an ironman people!) I quickly realized that my bike computer had died. The last information it gave me was '2.3' the speed that I had started walking with my bike in the transition. So I did what all self respecting Ironpeople do....I hit it again and again hoping to shock it into submission. Nothing. Dead. As a doornail.
The ride portion of the day was the longest portion of the day. It included 112 miles of gorgeous Wisconsin countryside, thousands of support crew/volunteers, more spectators than I could count and hills like I could have never predicted. I did know that the course was hilly and we spent a lot of our training on hills during the preparation for this event. But the relentlessness of the hills on the 80 mile loop was amazing. I have never worked so hard and had so much challenge and euphoria at the same time. We gained 6000 feet!! I'm telling you, it was awesome. The views were breathtaking, the cows were also, well, breathtaking (but in a very different way). It was amazing. 8:02 was my final bike time. This is two minutes over my goal, but a) I did stop at 89 porta-bathrooms and b) did I mention the hills???
The transition (T2) to the run was wacky. I got of my bike, hugged my Mom (yep I sure did!), and gulped back a little tear. I was whipped. But, after instructing the volunteer who took my bike to sell her, b/c I would certainly not ever be riding her again, I trotted into the T2 area to do my third costume change....runner-femme.
Runner-femme was more like walker-hope-I can-do this-femme for about 12 minutes. Then, suddenly I felt like running (which is insane....think about it...112 miles on a bike and I felt like going for a run???). So I did. I ran about 50% of the marathon portion of the race. At mile 12.9 I thought I was going to loose it. My body hurt, but more than that my brain was telling me to
stop. My brain was playing for the other team and had no intention of letting me feel the euphoria of crossing the finish line. Thankfully I met a very nice man who gave some great advice. He provided instructions for how to keep the body moving....despite the tapes in my head. Yea for Doug! So I kept moving. Then I saw my family and friends...got lots of hugs and kisses and good energy and I was off. The second 13.1 was hard, challenging in a way that words cannot describe. I thought of nothing. My mind was a blank. The act of moving forward became a mechanical, singularly focused action. I did not think of the finish, only of the moment. What did I feel, what did I need, what was the time....the moment (whichever one it was) was all my brain could handle.The food on the run course was 'awesome'. When I say 'food' I mean water, ice chips, wet sponges, gatoraid, cola, chicken broth, gel packs, bananas and oranges. When I say 'awesome' I mean that there was plenty of it and the volunteers would practically hold a glass for you while you drank if you needed it. Truly, w/o the broth and cola, I would have been a goner. The salt kept me from cramping (I've never had need for this before....but I had been out there for 12 hours when I started craving the broth), and the cola was really great for my upset tummy. Three cheers for 'gourmet' race food (I've gone too far with the description I know).
FInally, at about 11:10 I realized that I was going to make it. I wasn't willing to think about it, or able to think about it, prior to that moment. But in that second, it all became real. The emotion swelled up in my throat (which is exactly what you don't need after 16 hours and 10 minutes of aerobic exercise!!!), and I could hear the spectators screaming, encouraging and cheering for us....the back-of-the-packers! They waited for us!!! So I started to jog...even though it was uphill...I jogged around a corner and there were people in the street cheering me on....I rounded another corner and I could see the glow of the spot lights...then there they were....thousands of people screaming like I have never heard before. Then they started yelling my name. Me! My name (granted I was wearing it on the front of my shirt: 2030 JENNIFER). So I focused, and I ran...I ran into the lights...under one arch and into the IRONMAN FINISHER tape to the second arch....and I heard: JENNIFER JABSON: YOU ARE AN IRONMAN.
Total time : 16.22.53....my secret goal time that I never told anyone!
I did it. I finished. It was an out of body experience. It was an IN body experience. It was the most challenging, heart wrenching, exhilarating, joyful, powerful, incredible, HARD, empowering experience of my life. I am unable to adequately articulate the range of emotions, the depth of emotions, or the feeling that comes when the boundaries of the body and the mind blur to become one.
As I have said before, thank you. Thank you for your encouragement and support all year in this process. I felt each of you out there with me at one point or another on race day. I called on your encouraging words, and laughed at your jokes. Sometimes I pretended that you were watching me from the W Coast....and as it turns out some of you where (props to you!!!!). I could not have made this journey on my own. You helped me get there and I am deeply and sincerely grateful for your contributions. From my perspective there is only one thing left to say: when is the next one? :) I'm kidding...sort of. But really:I am an Ironman.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Iron-Eve
It is the eve of the Ironman and we have busily been trying to get all our gear in the right bag, placed in the right space, all while trying to predict the weather. I, for one, am a nervous nelly. I think race day is going to be super fun....but right now, nervous nelly.
I see all these fabulous bodies, fancy bikes, latest equipment...and it is a bit intimidating. But, what I have learned about these races (from watching Meg) is that this race is quite the equalizer. Fancy equipment only gets you so far, particularly if you bought all the gear instead of training. I'll quit being snarky. It is intimidating to see 2200 athletes all ready to take this on for one reason or another...the stories I think might be the most interesting part.
I don't have much to say....because I'm actually having a bit of an out-of-body experience. I'm doing this because I used to think it was the most physically impossible thing a person could do. I used to think that about marathons too...that is what got me into my first and second marathons. The learning from these events is definitely more emotional and mental than physical...at least for me. Although, this go around, I am having some incredible physical learning, such as...one can train 2-8 hours a day and gain weight....and it isn't the "fault" of the athlete. It could be cortisol or leptin or adrenal difficulties. I am learning that I am not just feeling a bit bizarre and concerned about my body for no reason. I am learning that I am no a morally corrupt person because I haven't lost weight in this process...in fact I've gained weight...with good medical reason.
Now, I am struggling with the fact that I have gained weight....because I have the self-hatred that rears its ugly head and growls mightily with every pound. I have that misogynist crap I referred to back in the early days of the blog. And yet, I have visited an MD (Dr. Emily Cooper at Seattle Performance Medicine) that is going to work with me as she has with other athletes to re-balance and re-calibrate my body so that it deals with food properly.
People, my visit to SPM was the first time in my medical experience that I sat in a doctor's office and felt met around the experience of my body, my weight, the seemingly inconsistent weight gain with my watching and counting of calories and extreme exercise. I can't wait to get back and get this all figured out. Stress, cortisol, trauma, extreme exercise....all making my body feel like it needs to hold onto everything I put in it....regardless of what that is.
Anyway, all of this is on my mind on the eve of the Ironman because I am still struggling with feeling like I belong here...that I am an athlete (though I have been one my whole life).....simply because I have more weight on my body than I'd like.
Well, tomorrow, I will be in my body, swim 2.4 miles, bike 112, and run (shuffle) 26.2 and I will be an ironman or ironperson or ironlady. I will work on letting it in.
I see all these fabulous bodies, fancy bikes, latest equipment...and it is a bit intimidating. But, what I have learned about these races (from watching Meg) is that this race is quite the equalizer. Fancy equipment only gets you so far, particularly if you bought all the gear instead of training. I'll quit being snarky. It is intimidating to see 2200 athletes all ready to take this on for one reason or another...the stories I think might be the most interesting part.
I don't have much to say....because I'm actually having a bit of an out-of-body experience. I'm doing this because I used to think it was the most physically impossible thing a person could do. I used to think that about marathons too...that is what got me into my first and second marathons. The learning from these events is definitely more emotional and mental than physical...at least for me. Although, this go around, I am having some incredible physical learning, such as...one can train 2-8 hours a day and gain weight....and it isn't the "fault" of the athlete. It could be cortisol or leptin or adrenal difficulties. I am learning that I am not just feeling a bit bizarre and concerned about my body for no reason. I am learning that I am no a morally corrupt person because I haven't lost weight in this process...in fact I've gained weight...with good medical reason.
Now, I am struggling with the fact that I have gained weight....because I have the self-hatred that rears its ugly head and growls mightily with every pound. I have that misogynist crap I referred to back in the early days of the blog. And yet, I have visited an MD (Dr. Emily Cooper at Seattle Performance Medicine) that is going to work with me as she has with other athletes to re-balance and re-calibrate my body so that it deals with food properly.
People, my visit to SPM was the first time in my medical experience that I sat in a doctor's office and felt met around the experience of my body, my weight, the seemingly inconsistent weight gain with my watching and counting of calories and extreme exercise. I can't wait to get back and get this all figured out. Stress, cortisol, trauma, extreme exercise....all making my body feel like it needs to hold onto everything I put in it....regardless of what that is.
Anyway, all of this is on my mind on the eve of the Ironman because I am still struggling with feeling like I belong here...that I am an athlete (though I have been one my whole life).....simply because I have more weight on my body than I'd like.
Well, tomorrow, I will be in my body, swim 2.4 miles, bike 112, and run (shuffle) 26.2 and I will be an ironman or ironperson or ironlady. I will work on letting it in.
going off the grid
This is it. We are going off the grid. We have checked in all our gear, we have napped, we have had a family/team meeting (three cheers for everyone who drove and flew out to be here!) and we are now, going off the grid. I will not be on line until Monday or more likely Tuesday but wanted to update you quickly on our status.
We are all stable. We are all nervous and have butterflies in our bellies (NOT A SURPRISE!). But we all also feel eager to get out there and get this show on the road. It's time to rumble, let's get this party started!!!!
The weather is a bit temperamental, we have been on pins and needles all week as the forecast flips between sun and thunderstorms. Currently it seems that we will have sun and clear skies until 3:00 and then possible scattered showers until midnight. We are happy with this outcome and pleased that the temps will not be over 75 degrees.
So, thanks again for everything. Couldn't do this without you, your great jokes, love, laughter, understanding, wine, food, and encouragement. This is what it's all about. I can't wait to blog about all of the trials and joys of race day. Inparticular I cannot wait to write about what it feels like to hear "Jennifer, you ARE an Ironman'". Hugs all around!!!!!
GO IRONMAN!!!!!!!!!!
We are all stable. We are all nervous and have butterflies in our bellies (NOT A SURPRISE!). But we all also feel eager to get out there and get this show on the road. It's time to rumble, let's get this party started!!!!
The weather is a bit temperamental, we have been on pins and needles all week as the forecast flips between sun and thunderstorms. Currently it seems that we will have sun and clear skies until 3:00 and then possible scattered showers until midnight. We are happy with this outcome and pleased that the temps will not be over 75 degrees.
So, thanks again for everything. Couldn't do this without you, your great jokes, love, laughter, understanding, wine, food, and encouragement. This is what it's all about. I can't wait to blog about all of the trials and joys of race day. Inparticular I cannot wait to write about what it feels like to hear "Jennifer, you ARE an Ironman'". Hugs all around!!!!!
GO IRONMAN!!!!!!!!!!
Friday, September 5, 2008
Ironman or Bust
Hello Friends!!!!
The whole team has been in Madison since the late Tuesday evening. Wednesday we drove the bike course and as promised it is relentlessly hilly, but optimistically 'doable'. I have come to think that the ride will be challenging, but not outside of my ability. I expect to be tired, I expect to use four-letter words (some starting with 'f'), and I expect to be exhilarated and delighted. So, as is promised by many veterans, I will likely experience a full and wide range of emotions on race day! :)
Today we swam the course (easy-peezy....what's 2.4 miles anyway??) and then Trina and Jen rode hills (not me Jen, the other Jen....it's not as confusing as it sounds) on the bike course. Again, this confirmed for all of us that we are ready for the beating the rolling Mid West hills promise. BRING IT! We also walked through the finish shoot at the end...OMG, I can't wait to be there SUnday night!!!! I hope to cross around 11:30 pm my time (9:30 on the W. coast).
Tomorrow we will check in our bags for each of the transitions. That's a feat in and of itself. It'll be nice to have everything in. Sunday morning we will get up at 3:30 a.m. and catch a shuttle at 4:30. Body marking at 5:00 and in the water by 6:30. WHOOHOOO!
So far the biggest challenge are my nerves. My head gets away from me and I'm focusing my energy on being in the moment. I must not think about 'what if's' or I find myself getting the dreaded DNF (did not finish)...which of course WILL NOT happen! :) It's going to be a long day of grinding and going deep inside to pull out all that 'GI JEN' intensity that I dig into....but it's also going to be INCREDIBLE.
On a lighter note, the course is BEAUTIFUL and the community support so far is next to none...it's really top shelf. I'm so impressed and honored. THere are lots of cows on the ride (midwest farm country, go figure) so many call the race IMOO....funny. Today I tried to get some pics of the countryside that I will post in the coming week so that you can see how pretty it really is here.
I will not likely post again until Tuesday....but thank you all for your support, your texts, your emails and your encouragement. I will be drawing on all of your good wishes and positive energy on Sunday.....LOVE YOU ALL!
big hugs!
jennifer
The whole team has been in Madison since the late Tuesday evening. Wednesday we drove the bike course and as promised it is relentlessly hilly, but optimistically 'doable'. I have come to think that the ride will be challenging, but not outside of my ability. I expect to be tired, I expect to use four-letter words (some starting with 'f'), and I expect to be exhilarated and delighted. So, as is promised by many veterans, I will likely experience a full and wide range of emotions on race day! :)
Today we swam the course (easy-peezy....what's 2.4 miles anyway??) and then Trina and Jen rode hills (not me Jen, the other Jen....it's not as confusing as it sounds) on the bike course. Again, this confirmed for all of us that we are ready for the beating the rolling Mid West hills promise. BRING IT! We also walked through the finish shoot at the end...OMG, I can't wait to be there SUnday night!!!! I hope to cross around 11:30 pm my time (9:30 on the W. coast).
Tomorrow we will check in our bags for each of the transitions. That's a feat in and of itself. It'll be nice to have everything in. Sunday morning we will get up at 3:30 a.m. and catch a shuttle at 4:30. Body marking at 5:00 and in the water by 6:30. WHOOHOOO!
So far the biggest challenge are my nerves. My head gets away from me and I'm focusing my energy on being in the moment. I must not think about 'what if's' or I find myself getting the dreaded DNF (did not finish)...which of course WILL NOT happen! :) It's going to be a long day of grinding and going deep inside to pull out all that 'GI JEN' intensity that I dig into....but it's also going to be INCREDIBLE.
On a lighter note, the course is BEAUTIFUL and the community support so far is next to none...it's really top shelf. I'm so impressed and honored. THere are lots of cows on the ride (midwest farm country, go figure) so many call the race IMOO....funny. Today I tried to get some pics of the countryside that I will post in the coming week so that you can see how pretty it really is here.
I will not likely post again until Tuesday....but thank you all for your support, your texts, your emails and your encouragement. I will be drawing on all of your good wishes and positive energy on Sunday.....LOVE YOU ALL!
big hugs!
jennifer
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