Seven

A cardinal number, 6 plus 1. -- Dictionary.com

September 20, 1969, is a day I still recall. It was a Saturday, an extremely important Saturday, marking the special occasion of my seventh birthday. I had decided that seven sounded decidedly older than six and was ecstatic that Saturday all those years ago had arrived.

Fast forward 10 years to a girls' bathroom at Cape Central High School following lunch. I'm certain I was likely on my period based on the episode playing out on this particular birthday ending in a seven. My girlfriends gathered around me, concern plaguing their faces, as I bawled in front of the pitted mirror. What could be wrong on a birthday where we were beginning our senior year and had the world (or at least the sophomores and juniors) at our feet? Was Andy being a turd again? Did I have a fight with my mom on my birthday of all days? Can you believe I cried about turning 17? I was inconsolable because I was no longer Sweet 16. Yes, I'm confident I had to be on my period.

As I ponder my 27th and 37th birthdays, I simply can't remember feeling strongly about either. Whether or not I was upset or ecstatic escapes me. However, I can definitely say that my upcoming 47th birthday was making me a basket case.

It all began at the end of February when my much older sister turned 60. My sister. It made me shiver to think it. My mom would be turning 80 on Halloween. And you know it was the dreaded "Year of the Seven" -- the one that sounds so distinctly older. Pile on top of that a stress-filled year at school and 25 pounds that had me sensing imminent doom. I simply couldn't bear it and resorted to cocooning myself in a mild snit that lasted for the next five months.

Then like a swift, unexpected kick in the rear end, I was able to shake myself from this pity party. I honestly think it was the spirit of my father Ben Reiminger that got me in gear. This turn-around began on what would have been his 96th birthday at the end of July. With Dad and God as my "coaches", I began to run. Trust me, I've never been an athlete, and this endeavor took both my Higher Power and the man I admired for his spunk and physical fitness even at 90. I'd ask both for help as I struggled to hit the mile mark, or as I conquered my first hill. Heck, I'd even pray for the relief to get a deep breath. It took several weeks, but I began to run the full 3.4 miles I had measured out on a drive around my neighborhood. I had also measured 10 less inches on my frame.

When I caught word about a 5K run, I absolutely had to take it on. I was running one six days a week, so why not? The clincher? Of all days, it fell on Sunday, September 20, 2009 - my 47th birthday. I had enlisted my daughter Katelyn to run with me, and we were psyched to line up with the others in the Healthpoint Fitness parking lot to begin the City of Roses 5K. In the time of 35:45.6, 47 year-old Kandee Reiminger crossed the finish line, second in her age division(I know, there were only four of us), with a burst of energy a seven year-old might have trouble mustering.

What an amazing birthday!