Welcome to The Sunday Sip, our weekly excuse to share personal essays, events, book reviews, and whatever else is swirling around in our world. We take turns writing it — and this week, it’s my turn.
Every once in a while, I’m struck by certain themes that keep resurfacing in my life. When I turned 40, I ran my first marathon — one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, and I’ve given birth. Finishing the Detroit Marathon was nothing short of a miracle. In hindsight, I was probably not quite ready for a full marathon.
But I finished it, even though I had to grip the ramp’s handrail leading onto Ford Field, each step sending a sharp jolt of pain through my feet and thighs. When I finally entered the field and saw my family waiting at the finish line, it felt like yet another hurdle. I couldn’t catch my breath — overwhelmed, choking on tears, hyperventilating. I still had to push through the last few steps to cross the line.
Yes, I was a mess. And yet, for some reason, I went on to run more than a dozen additional marathons. So when Chuck turned 50 and announced he wanted to run an ultramarathon — 31 miles instead of 26.2 — I figured, what’s another five miles? When he suggested it, he promised it would be downhill, but conveniently left out that the first five miles were uphill. By then, I was a pro and didn’t shed a single tear at the finish line. To celebrate, I iced my feet, drank a lot of beer, and officially retired from marathons — trading my running shoes for walking shoes.
As I look toward turning 60 in 2026, I decided I needed something big to celebrate. Walking our first Camino felt like the natural next step, the perfect way to mark the milestone.
Based on the Facebook groups I’ve joined, there are plenty of other “retirees” walking caminos too, so it looks like we’ll be in good company.
We’ve chosen the St. Francis Way in Italy, most likely the 140-kilometer stretch between Assisi and Rieti. The walk should take 10 to 14 days to complete. There are plenty of details to sort out, like whether we’ll use a luggage transfer service or carry backpacks with all our gear. The dates are still a moving target, but the training is not. We’re treating it like marathon prep: time on our feet, slow weekly increases, some weightlifting, cross-training on the pickleball court, and daily yoga to keep our muscles stretched and our arthritic joints well-oiled.
It is oddly thrilling, setting my sights on an experience that will take months to prepare for. The freshness of discovery, the sense of something wholly unfamiliar, is like a new drug: Cue Huey Lewis and the News minus the girl on the speedboat.
And like my first marathon, where I crawled down that ramp onto Ford Field, it’s something that can never be recreated in quite the same way again.
You might think the theme that keeps resurfacing is my odd love of self-inflicted challenges, and you wouldn’t be wrong, but that’s not it.
In the life-changing book Raising Hare by Chloe Dalton, she uses the phrase “novel, unrepeatable experiences.” That line stuck with me and wouldn’t let go. I tore it apart, defining the words.1
It bounced around in my head until I realized it perfectly captured the theme that keeps resurfacing in my own life.
Raising Hare is magical. It’s the story of Chloe finding an abandoned newborn hare (a leveret) and raising it. I know a few of you are rolling your eyes — I see you. But it’s not just about the hare; it’s about Chloe herself, someone you’ll want to be friends with immediately. She opens your eyes to the natural world and, in an unexpected way, becomes a kind of gentle guide. I rarely consider writing an author to thank them for sharing their memoir, but I just might send Chloe a note.
Chuck and I are always on the lookout for novel, unrepeatable experiences, and they’re not all self-inflicted challenges requiring weeks of cardio training. This past week, we attended our first improv class at Hear.Say Theatre. I’ll admit, in the days leading up to it, I had a full-blown panic attack and considered dropping out. But Chuck, in his calm, soothing way, said, “Think of it as a networking event.” Now I feel a bit foolish. It was a lot of fun, and I’m looking forward to our next class.
We also went to the Detroit Institute of Arts for Angeline Boulley’s book signing and to check out the Contemporary Anishinaabe Art Exhibition. We’ve been to other book signings, so this one didn’t necessarily meet all the criteria for a “novel, unrepeatable experience.” But it was my first time at an Angeline Boulley event, and if you ever get the chance, say “Yes, please.” She’s funny and smart — exactly what you’d expect.
I can’t remember the exact question, but it had to do with writing her first book, which she published at the age of 55. In telling the story, Angeline said, “Fear regret more than you fear failure.” That bit of advice has been rattling around in my psyche ever since.
What if we’d never published our first Life In Michigan post or recorded our first podcast episode because we feared it would fail? In many ways, Life In Michigan has been a novel, unrepeatable experience — and one I’m grateful we didn’t talk ourselves out of.
Life In Michigan Updates
The latest Life Michigan Podcast episode is out!
Storytelling, Community, and the Real Ypsi with Maria Skrzynski
In this episode of the Life In Michigan podcast, we sit down with Maria Skrzynski, Content Strategist at Destination Ann Arbor, to explore her journey into travel storytelling, her love for Ypsilanti, and the creative heart of Michigan.
If you have an idea for a guest, email me (info@lifeinmichigan.com). We are looking for anyone who is creative, passionate, and has a story to share about their Life In Michigan. Don’t be shy.
The latest episode of Fans with Bands just dropped!
I’m slacking! Chuck is the only one publishing articles. Click on the image to read the whole article.
If you are a Sunday Sip regular, you know Chuck loves curating an events listing. We’ve created a public Google Events Calendar so you’ll never miss an event. Get over there and subscribe!
You’ll find things like this on the calendar!
Earlier this year, we interviewed Breeda Miller. Give it a listen if you haven’t already; you’ll get a taste of her one-woman show.
Finding Joy and Legacy in Caregiving: A Conversation with Breeda Miller
In this episode of Life in Michigan, we sat down with Breeda Miller – storyteller, author, performer, and, as she calls herself, “a recovering caregiver.” Breeda opens up about her deeply personal experience of caring for her mother — a journey that ultimately inspired her one-woman play and the moving memoir
Mark your calendars! 🎉 November 8, 2025, at Art 634 in Jackson—is happening SOON! If you’ve not signed up for our GIG newsletter, now would be a good time to do that. 🚀 Our latest newsletter!
I finished hooking a rug for our entryway this past week!
Afterward, I went hunting for other fiber geeks on Substack, and I found Threadstack. Jackpot! It has a directory of fiber artists. Of course, I subscribed to a bunch of them. Love fiber? Check out Threadstack.
Enjoy your day and don’t forget to share the Sunday Sip with your friends.
Something can be novel but repeatable (for instance, the first time you ride a rollercoaster — it’s new, but you can do it again). And something can be unrepeatable but not novel (for example, watching your child’s graduation — the ceremony format might be familiar, but that particular moment is one of a kind).
So, the phrase “novel, unrepeatable experience” intentionally combines both ideas — the freshness of discovery and the ephemeral quality of a moment that can’t be recreated.
I nearly forgot that I read fire keepers daughter. I’ll definitely read this one by A.B too.
Brenda, I don’t know how you and Chuck do all that you’ve done. You really do seem like the energizer bunnies!