Saturday, May 30, 2009

Pomp And Circumstance

We were so proud of Judah and his fellow graduates. It was a great morning. We were extra proud when Judah was one of the recipients of the only two awards given. Our son is too spirited to receive many behavior awards, but he was honored with a perfect attendance award!!!
This special morning was topped off with a trip to Tsunami with NeeNee to celebrate the class of 2009!

They Had A Field Day!

Adam's Elementary 2009 Field Day!! SO much fun. Judah and, you guessed it, Isaac, played side
by side all morning and had a blast!

Meanwhile...Back On The Homefront marathon euphoria has subsided and I must move on.
In the midst of training and recovery, my busy life has continued and here are the major highlights since the big day.
One of the best shows all year was the Pre-K music and movement performance. Judah stole the show. He sang so hard that at the end of the night his voice was hoarse. There's nothing better than watching kids this age perform. Whether emergency potty breaks cause one to run off, a shy child hides behind her arm all night, or a wardrobe malfunction (shoes untied) requires the assistance of Miss Gracie, all is acceptable in this crowd. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much that night.
Two days after the marathon I joined Judah's class on their field trip to the zoo. We had a great time with the kids. Judah and his pal Isaac are

So Isaac's mother, Kendra and I chased four rambunctious boys around the zoo. I don't know who more ill equipped, me barely moving with post marathon legs or her, nearly 6 months pregnant. We were a sight!

And speaking of's always an "educational" time at the zoo, especially in the springtime. This was so funny as the kids said, "Look! The one on top is smiling!"

Oh...throw in a new 10K PR at the River Run. 43:04. My legs eventually recovered!

Judah ran his third annual Tot Trot and made us all so proud!

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Bustin' For Boston, Finale

What lied ahead was some of the toughest running I've ever known. Miles 20-23 or 24 (I can't remember, it was such a feat) lead us out into a straight head wind. It was worse than back at the lake. It had increased dramatically in the last few miles. It became clear that our group of now 3 had really grown tired. We powered through the first mile pretty strong and we stayed together.
Live music was being played  to one side of us and it was a little bit of a distraction. We passed under an overpass and no amount of distraction could help us anymore.
Stacey fell back and Bill and I began our personal battles to take on the wind. I put my head down and pushed. A gust would come and take my breath away. I'd tuck back down and push again. I'd catch Bill and then pass him. A gust would come and I'd be knocked back. Bill would then pass me. I managed a few words to him, all consisting of, "Don't we turn out of this soon?" "That turn has to be soon, right?"
I managed to catch back up with a man I hadn't seen since the halfway mark. In his thick Latin accent he said, "Oh, there you are again, wondering abo
ut you." I think I made the same redundant reply about the wind to him. As we pressed on, to our left a fellow runner had probably hit the wall. His body had apparently had enough as he was puking into the storm gutter. It was awful, a horrible image to take in this late in the game. The wind was causing his chucks to splatter every which way, poor guy. All I could do 
was cover the left side of my vision and power on by. It took me a bit to shake that image.
Kenton came strolling in my view. He had the phone up to his ear and called out, "What mile are you at?" I looked down and saw I was only at 22.5. I was freaked. I had used so much energy in the last 2.5 miles that it felt as though I should  have been further. He replied back to my family and then let me know, he'd see me at the finish. I kept up my back and forth game with Bill, the only one of the original 5 still in my sights. Our beloved cowbell man came walking up t
o a bus stop bench and I mustered one of the last phrases of the day to him, "Come on, I gotta have more cowbell!" He responded joyfully with, "I'm working on it." He unzipped his bag so quick and banged that bell like there was no tomorrow. I couldn't see him anymore, but I raised my arm in appreciation. Kenton
 zoomed by in the car and honked from the other lane and then I was alone. Bill and I hit one of the busiest aid stations t
ogether. I grabbed up all the GU I could manage as I ran through, took a powerade swig, grabbed a water gulp, and then chugged right on. I don't remember where Bill was in that transition, but I was getting scared. I could easily look down and tell that I wasn't keeping an 8:20 pace in that wind and I was losing time. I could see the course turn up ahead and I knew if I could just get out of the wind, I'd be able to get my pace back up. I was doing the math in my head. 23 miles came and I knew I still had just enough time to make it to the finish in 3:40. Finally, I was able to turn left and escape the direct wind. I even welcomed the dang hill they place at the end of the course. I was just so thankful that it was calm and now it was even quiet, without the howl of the wind in my ears.
Part excitement, part fear rose up in me as I knew the race was almost over. I was getting hoops and hollers from the crowds when they realized I was a full marathoner coming through strong along the course. I was having to compete for a space on the course at this point, because it was still quite saturated with people walking the half marathon. I now regret that I was a little short with these people, but I was trying to run and they were walking at a leisure pace sometime 5-7 people abreast. They were making it hard to pass. Eventually I'd holler excuse me and just plow right through their group. When the volunteers saw me coming they'd help me out by alerting the walkers. I had gotten in to the zone, I had less than two miles left and I was running hard. I looked down at one point and saw my pace had increased to 7:45 per mile. I did the math and knew I had it, if I'd just maintain an 8:20, but I was still scared. A fresh relayer, finishing up her 10K came bounding by and I started to hustle after her, then I realized there was no need for that, She could have her finish, we were not in the same race, I needed to calm down and finish smart. I felt so supported that the neighborhood would recognize me as a full marathoner. They shouted my name if they were close enough to read my bib. Otherwise, they'd scream my number, " Number 1495, you're looking great, you're almost there!" At this point I had no idea that I was only the 14th female to pass by with a full marathon bib, what an honor to be one of the first few to pass them that morning.
With a hand full of gu that I had no intention of using and a heart pounding like a drum, I looked left and saw my Dad. He was on his phone too. All I heard was, "I got her, we're coming!"
I waved and watched as he jumped in the street, still wearing his half marathon number, and bright yellow shirt. We said little but I do remember him getting in front of me and some how communicating that he was going to block the wind that we were now competing with once more. I nodded or something. I asked him if he could hold the GU I had and then we ran on. We were past mile 25 and I dribbled out the words, "I think I got it." He replied back, "You got it." The last and final aid station was up ahead as my Dad pointed it out, I slowed for a second to grab one last drink. I didn't even need it, but I was operating like a robot at this point. I think there was
 more live music playing, but I could barely focus on anything, I knew I was so close. The last two miles were the longest two miles of my life though. I called out, "Is that it?" "Is that the final turn?" My Dad called back, "Yep! That's it!" Down a hill and around the corner we went. The corner nearly knocked me back as the wind needed to show it's face once more. My Dad jumped right in front of me and said, "Let me know if I need to go faster!" I looked at my garmin and knew I was set, I just had to maintain for a few more yards. I could see the finish line. It still seemed too far away, but I just kept going. The crowds got thicker, it got nosier, and my heart thumped harder. Balloons, faces, an announcer over a loud speaker, there was so much
 commotion. I was so close. I heard my name being screamed and couldn't make out where it was coming from. My Dad pointed left. I saw my sister standing above the crowd on a bench waving and screaming my name. Her husband was there too. I looked and looked some more

 and then I saw my mom, my nephew, and my baby boy. He blew me a kiss and I sent one right back at him. I was so glad I saw each one of them. Even though this all took place in a matter of seconds, I can still see it in slow motion. I instantly had time to ponder about Kenton's location. I started making assumptions that he got caught in traffic or something else had prevented him from being there at that moment. No sooner did I finish those thoughts then I heard, "LACY!!!!!" I looked right and there he was, red in the face from screaming my name so loud. He made it, it was perfect, everyone was there. My Dad turned to me and let me know he was stopping there. How I wish I could remember his words exactly, but he gave me my last boost and told me to "Take it, It's all yours."

And I did. The announcer jumped in front of me, read my name, and announced that Lacy Jaye was finishing 26.2 miles. With just a few more foot falls I crossed the painted line and finally the timing mat. I had finished, I was done, and it was over. Garmin was set to chip time and said 3:37, the clock was set to gun time and it said 3:38. Either way you sliced it, I got it, I qualified for Boston.

I could go on to tell you how I met up with Rick and heard how he dropped out at mile 16 due to illness. I could tell you how I pilfered free Carl's Jr. burgers to my entire family. I could tell you how one by one my friends came across that line, I could tell you the war stories they acquired out on the course. Bill's battle with the wind. Stacey's exhaustion. Brad's cramps. I could tell you how my legs hurt so bad I didn't know if I would ever walk normal again. There's a million side stories I could tell, but there's just one I must tell.
I know I didn't get to that finish line by myself. Friends, running partners, doctors, my son, my mother, my sister, my grandmothers, my in-laws, strangers, acquaintances, and my wonderful, irreplaceable husband all got me there. There are million ways I could tell of their support and one day I will. But today I must tell you about my Dad. 
He got me to run my first mile. He walked me through everyone after that. He held me up when each race nearly did me in. He let me cry to him when I was taken out by an injury. He quietly, but strongly let me know he understood and supported me in this quest for Boston. He got it, he knew that it was more than a race to me. He knew that I had to do this. He understood when I told him I needed Judah to see me accomplish this. He didn't bat an eye when I showed weakness or fear. He knew I was running to get away from everything else in my life that had said, "no you can't." He knew that I relied on strength that wasn't my own. Mostly he knew I could do it and that was, at times, all I could believe in. I could believe because he believed in me. 
As long as I live I will cherish the moment that my father jumped in front of me in my time of greatest need and forged a path for me, because I was too weak to do it on my own. Is there any greater picture of the Father's love than this?
"Come to me, all of you who are weary and loaded down with burdens, and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28

I eventually made my way back to him after I got through the finisher's area. He grabbed me and held my weak sweaty body tight. He spoke into my ear my most cherished words. Words that will remain between him and I. Words everyone needs to hear from their Dad. Words that filled my heart with delight.

So, Boston had my number. But the Lord has my heart. What a priceless day. To see my God in my family, in my father. To have a heart's desire come into reality. To have so much thankfulness that I didn't know where to start.
The once overweight, out of shape girl. The girl who got out of gym class by petitioning the principal the allow her to play her violin instead. The girl who was never picked first. The girl who was too quiet to have many friends. The girl who was set-up as an easy target. The girl who could never quite find her place. The girl who didn't have a great deal of confidence. The girl who didn't really even know her dad that well. Can confidently tell her son,
"You know you can do anything, right?"
"Anything?" he replied.
"Yes, Judah, look at what God did for me, I shouldn't have been able to run that fast. Jesus even said if you believe, you can move mountains."
"Yes, mountains."
"Well, I'm going to move 46 of them, or maybe just 6."
"O taste and see that the LORD is good; How blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him!"
Psalm 34:8

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Bustin' For Boston Part 3

"Leapfrog?" I was pretty sure I knew what they meant and once we turned the corner, I was sure glad someone had the idea.
Our game of leapfrog was accom
plished by each of us running in a straight line. The leader would take the brunt of the wind while the others would tuck behind and try to conserve energy. After the set amount of time the leader would fall to the back of the line and the next up would have their turn in the front.
We said to have the leader take the front for about a minute at a time. I tried to take my share of the lead and not get knocked over. The wind was terrible. My hat kept trying to blow off and some of the gusts would take your breath away. A few others spotted what we were doing and we encouraged them to join in. It was a long stretch directly in to the wind but eventually we turned out of it and rounded the
 other side of the lake.
Somewhere in that chaos, we lost Rick. He mentioned something to someone, but we never saw him again.
As we rounded mile 16, I attempted to make some of my money back. They were handing out GU and I scored my flavor, vanilla bean.
We passed a large drummer's circle out in the park to support the runners. Another timing mat was quickly approaching as we headed right back in to the wind. Stacey jumped in front of me and we leapfrogged our way out of Lake Hefner park and back into another neighborhood. I'm sure somewhere in there we saw cowbell man once more as well.

Once we were back in the calm of a covered neighborhood we quit playing leapfrog and ran side by side. Now we were missing another runner. Brad had pulled off to deal with a shoe and ankle problem, he thought he'd catch up later.
As we faced the mile 17 marker, I said to Bill, "You know the best thing about this marker?" "What's that?," he replied. "Single digits," I answered.
We had done it. We were still on pace for a 3:30-ish race and now ther
e were only 9 miles left. I tried not to dwell on the fact that 9 miles is still a long way and I knew that a lot could happen in that time, but it was a small victory to celebrate, we only had single digits left to run!!
As we ran this stretch, I ended up passing people I knew. It's such a small world running into acquaintances out on the course. I managed a quick hello with them and felt great to still be in such good spirits. Kenton snapped a few pictures and reported back to my family where I was. I kept yakking away at whatever my partners would respond to. I could tell they were getting quiet and maybe not having as much "fun" as I was.
Mile 20 came with quite a bit of hoopla. It was the last timing mat before the finish and the last "Relay Exchange" point. As we passed through the
 area there were hundreds of spectators there to support their relay members or others just to
 spectate. It's hard this late in the game when a new fresh runner bounds out of the chute ready to run a 10K. I was tired and had just run 20 miles. A course volunteer gave us the validation we needed, 
"Okay we got some full marathoners coming through, make way! None of this relay business!"
Hey, we're all proud of anyone who rises off "the couch of doom", but in that instance, we needed our card punched and it was.
I took the lead of the leapfrog line and lead my gang through a large cheering crowd. I felt a little taller at that moment.
I needed that confidence boost, too. As soon as the crowd faded some, the toughest part of the entire day awaited us at the next corner.....

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Bustin' For Boston Part 2

Thankfully my previous "extreme" runs have taught me that if I don't like leg cramps and I don't like puking, then you better get those electrolytes in you!
This knowledge coupled with the fact that mile three was bringing heat, humidity, and now a little sun was priceless. 
As we forged on towards the state capital, I was feeling good. The crowd was still thick, but aside from a few cone obstacles (seriously, you look away for a second and "boom", you're about to be taken out by one of the orange suckers!) things were going great.
 By this point one of my favorite spectators made his debut. A man dressed in near identical likeness to Will Ferrell's "More Cowbell" character, stood on
 the grass and rocked the cowbell like there was no tomorrow! These are the best parts of a well supported marathon!
At one point in those early miles we turned back towards the wind and at that stage in the game it felt good. It helped cool our sticky sweaty limbs and it wasn't too strong to be a problem.
I'd guess somewhere around mile 5 or so we headed into a wonderful neighborhood. I
 remembered it from the first time I ran in Oklahoma City and it was even better this time. Residents are in their yards playing music, cheering, shaking noise makers, and offering all sorts of support. One family had donuts to offer. Another had their
 children standing at the curb with plates full of freshly cooked bacon. I was in this race to meet a goal, but it's so great to see the others in it just to soak up all the fun, or bacon, they can get. There were a few runners stopping to grab at these crazy snacks and when they did, the spectators cheered.
The park in the center of the neighborhood had performers acting out some sort of interpretive drama. They had a sign, but I couldn't catch the title. Oh well, it's great way to pass the miles by.
Once out of the neighborhood, the field gets very specific. Around mile 7, the half marathoners take a turn and all that remain are the full marathoners. It's kind of an odd feeling. As the half marathoners turned, I remember thinking, "those guys had the right idea, what was I thinking?"
But at the same time, it felt pretty good to be cheered by the crowd, "FULL Marathoners, this
We passed "more Cowbell" Man a few more times, but I had expected to see Kenton much more by this point. Come to find out, he'd crashed his bike back around mile three and my mom was his sag wagon. He texted me, but it's a little tricky to handle the phone while I'm running. But out of concern I quickly got a hold of him and learned all was well and he'd see me before the half. So, if you were out there, yes that was me, #1495, talking on my cell phone while I was running a marathon.
We pressed on. Making sure we took our GU about every 4-5 miles. Yum! Vanilla Bean flavored...well, goo. It does the trick though. My trouble was that I only had two packets with me. I had planned on Kenton delivering the rest to me and now that we were approaching the half way mark I was scared. I once again called him, and he didn't answer. I knew that a large chunk of the race was on a bike path around a lake. Now that Kenton was in a car, there was no way he'd be able to find me. I kept me fears quiet and hoped he'd pull through for me.
We ran underneath a great sign that said, "You are Absolutely, Positively, Halfway There!" It's always good to see that, but even better to see your husband up ahead with Gu and Shot Bloks
 at the ready. I was so happy that he took care of all the crash drama and came through for me, I'm a lucky girl to have him.
(In the picture I'm doing the 'phone' signal, as in "I tried to call you," Not a "Hang Loose in OKC sign".)
We headed on with Kenton's promise to see me on the other side of the lake trails. We were still a group of 5 pushing on towards Lake Hefner. We'd picked up another man as well. I'd commented on his pace chart tattoo and he decided to stick with us for a while.
 Getting into the lake area required heading up over an overpass. As we got up into the unsheltered open, it was obvious that the wind had gotten a lot stronger. The sun had gone away and the volunteers were wearing coats and jackets. As we made it to the path around the lake, one of my partners said, "Are you guys ready to play leap frog?"

Monday, May 11, 2009

Bustin' For Boston PART 1

After a week's worth of storm predictions and a night full of storm warnings, the morning of the 2009 Oklahoma City Marathon had arrived. I'd barely slept all night. I kept the hotel TV on, tuned to the local news station. Severe storms were swarming the area all night. As the alarm started going off at 3:45 AM, I didn't dare hit snooze. I woke and did my pre-race jittery shuffle. Thankfully I've learned to lay everything out the night before. So I dressed, stretched, and used the bathroom like 50 times. I geared up with my new Garmin and headed out to meet my partners for the 5 AM shuttle. I told Kenton goodbye and anticipated seeing him in about an hour an a half. His plan was to ride his bike around the course and was going to begin his trek at mile 1.
We were all in the lobby ready to catch the 5 AM shuttle, just as we planned. We planned for the 5AM just so we'd be sure to get to the 6:30 AM start. Shuttles were to run every 15 minutes
 and this gave us plenty of room for any unexpected problems. Or, so we thought. As the time ticked by, no shuttle arrived. The stop was getting very crowded too. More and more people were traveling out of their hotel rooms to catch the bus.
I was nervous. I hate being late to a race. I wanted to be there extra early and have plenty of time to get in position. It was nearly 5:50, when I got a hold of Kenton and plan B was put in to place. 6 grown adults were going to pile into our hatchback Mazda 3 and rush to downtown
 Oklahoma City. That's what we did. Bill, Rick, Brad, Stacey, Kenton, and I loaded into the car and zoomed to the highway. (Side note: Mazda 3's have seating for 5, and that's cramped at best. Bill opted for the hatch!) This was proving to be an interesting start!
Kenton is good at lots of things. This particular morning brought his talents to the surface. He's got google maps uploaded in his brain. As he recognized the traffic backing up on the highway, he opted to turn early and navigate a new way on the fly. He got us about as close as anyone could to the starting line with no trouble. I'm sure it looked like a clown car unloading as 5 runner's emerged onto the sidewalk. I kissed my husband goodbye once more and was so relieved to be just a few blocks from the start. My comrades and I walked briskly towards the hub-bub in the very humid morning. It was over 75 degrees and it was still only about 6 AM. It wasn't raining, and in fact it was pretty clear skied above us. It was warmer than we hoped, but it looked as though the storms they predicted were holding off. 
I was truly blessed to have the friendship and the experience of my training partners. We dashed for the porta potties and just before we split up they declared where we should meet once we were done. There were 19,000 participants after all. It was really easy to lose someone out there. Finally my turn in line came. I rushed in to the porta-potty. I eventually got all my business taken care of. Not without having to literally tell my self to slow down. At one point I was scrambling so fast that I had knocked my glasses on the floor, unclipped my ipod, and nearly kicked over the cup I had been drinking from. So here's me minutes before the starting gun,
 standing in the porta potty all flustered and realizing that my shorts are still around my ankles. "Okay, Lacy, slow down. First things first, PULL-UP- YOUR- PANTS." After that brief but humorous breakdown. I was able to get myself together and meet my friends under the 8 minute mile sign. The crowds were so thick we had to squeeze through the fence. With just enough time to do a head count, the gun went off and we were moving towards the start.  As luck would have it that we were only about a minute behind the gun. I didn't expect to be running as soon as we were. I heard the high pitch "beep" as the electronic chips crossed over the starting line, and it was official, this race had begun.
The crowds were loud and thick. What a great place to run a marathon. As expected the first miles were quite congested. People dashing this way and that way trying find their place. All I cared about was keeping my friends in sight. We established a "Marco-Polo" game as we got separated. It worked too. But for the most part we were all able to keep right in sight of each other. Mile one passed quick. I knew to look right, because my mom and Kenton were going to be standing there. Sure enough, there they were. I hollered Kenton's name to get his attention. He spotted me and they both waved. I quietly said, "Hi Mom." Stacey said to me, "That's your Mom?" I felt so guilty. Yeah that was my mom! Why didn't I scream, "HI MOM!!"? Football players do it, and their mom's love it. Sorry Mom. Next time, I promise.
The sun was rising and it was getting real warm. There was a heavy wind blowing but it wasn't hitting us, so it felt very very sticky outside. I don't usually drink sports drink during runs, but I knew I would be in serious trouble on this day if I didn't.

More to come................

Friday, May 08, 2009

A Little Back Story Goes A Long Way

In the summer of 2007 I read, "Marathon Woman," by Katherine Switzer.
 It was a great read and a wonderful history of women's running. As I read about her history making run of the Boston marathon, I was captivated. She was literally almost thrown off the course once the director discovered, "K. Switzer, #261," was a female. It was a great moment to read about and then to look at all the pictures from that famous day in running history. As I type right now, I have a small clipping of that moment taped to my computer monitor. It has been in my sights for quite some time now.
Later that summer I was out on one of my typical Saturday morning long runs. I tended to run 13 miles every Saturday, whether I had reason to or not. As I was half way through it, I noticed my pace was faster than normal and I was sustaining it. When I returned I realized I might have more gas in the tank then I was using on my running expeditions. I recall talking to my Dad about the silly notion, that maybe, just maybe, little 'ol me might run a marathon fast enough to qualify for the one and the only, Boston Marathon. He believed that I could. I needed to work at it, but he believed that I could do it.
I went on the Boston Athletic Association's website (  and found my number. 3 hours and 40 minutes. A near two hour improvement on my best time thus far. It sounded impossible, but it was my number, and boy, did Boston have my number.
I worked. I joined the local running club's training class and was informed of my other number,
 8:20. This was the pace I'd have to keep for 26.2 miles in order to get to Boston. Well, since I was just barely a one year old (in runner's years), taking that much time off my 2nd marathon didn't seem likely. I tried though. In October 2007, my follow up to my first marathon
performance of 5:20 in Oklahoma City was to run the Wichita Marathon.
While my magic number wasn't expected, I was dumbfounded as to how I ran a 4:29 less than 6 months after my first marathon. In that amount of time I managed to improve by an entire hour. I felt encouraged that I had it in me to get even faster. A few nay-sayers crossed my path. Saying things like, "another 50 minutes off, that's pretty impossible sounding." Ah, if they only knew the fuel they put to my fire.
With the full support of my loved ones I went for it and I went hard. Too hard as a matter of fact. I began training for my next marathon the day after Wichita. I became too obsessed with miles. I ignored training guides and just ran and ran and ran. I became over trained and burnt out. I had signed up for the Eisenhower Marathon in April of 2008. I finished my 22 mile training run with a great time and I was on target to run a Boston qualifying time, or a BQ. I was depressed from the burn out, I was alone from not having a running partner, and my body was in pain. I was not ready for my BQ. I was broken, in more ways than one. My Pelvic bone, my inferior ramus, was fractured, along with my heart. 
I spent the spring and summer of 2008 in a dark place. My core was shaken. Not just because I couldn't run, but so many things were not right. It was a long season of seeking and searching, and healing. Physically and mentally. I had to examine what was driving me to run all those
 miles. What was causing the obsession, the unhealthy obsession. I believe that God needed to grab a hold of me and unfortunately, thick headed girls like me, have to be broken before they can pay attention. But eventually I heard Him, I got it, and the sun shined once more. My relationship with the Lord is my only real reason I do anything, and especially the only reason I do anything well. I let go of so many things. As I learned to loosen my grip and yield control of my life, amazingly, the things I wanted, the things I dreamed of, and the things I hoped for were all falling in to place.
My heart and body healed and I was running better than ever. New personal records were being set at every one of my races. I was winning medals. I wasn't forsaking my family's best intrust in order to pursue my own. Things were good.
My dear friend, Karl, who happens to be my physical therapist, checked in on me after all my long races and by Christmas he delivered me some great news. "Okay, I'll let you train for a full, but you gotta do it right this time, you got it?" I got it, I was good this time, and this time IT WAS GOOD!
As I glance once more at the picture of Katherine Switzer and the race course that has my number, I can't believe the reality of the story I will tell you next.
Stay tuned....