u/Same_Hawk4055

I see lots of mean people online calling people's times "walking pace." Except that doesn't really make sense, given that running is a form, not a pace.

You could literally "run" in place, or in other words do a "running" motion at 0 mph. So, you can definitely run at 4mph, even if it is also true at the same time that 4mph may overlap with the walking pace of some faster walkers.

I just wanted to say this to re-encourage anyone that might be discouraged by such comments. If you are doing a running motion as you move, you are running!

- A person with a 42 minute 5K time

Hi everyone! Looking for some input on my routine because I feel like I've hit a plateau.

Skin type: Combination — oily T-zone, slightly dry cheeks
Concerns: Rough texture on forehead, occasional small breakouts along jawline, some post-acne marks fading slowly
Sensitivities: None that I know of, but I do react to heavy fragrance
Current routine (AM):

• Low pH gel cleanser
• Vitamin C serum
• Light gel moisturizer
• Sunscreen (reapplying midday)

Current routine (PM):

• Oil cleanser → foam cleanser (double cleanse)
• Niacinamide serum
• Centella moisturizer

Frequency: Using the Vitamin C daily, no exfoliating acids in the routine right now

Question: Should I be introducing a chemical exfoliant (like a BHA) a few times a week to help with the texture, or would that be too much layered with the Vitamin C? Also open to hearing if my PM routine is missing a step for the post-acne marks. Not looking for anything prescription-strength, just curious what's worked for others with similar combo skin.

Thanks in advance — happy to answer follow-up questions about my skin!

My grandmother left me a voicemail three days before she passed. I was at work when she called, and I remember seeing her name pop up and thinking, "I'll call her back after my shift." I always thought I'd call her back.

I never got the chance. She passed suddenly that night — a stroke, the doctors said, quick and without much warning. By the time I understood what had happened, all I had left of that day was a ten-second voicemail I hadn't even listened to yet.

I remember sitting in my car in the hospital parking lot, finally pressing play. Her voice was steady, a little rushed, like she had somewhere to be. She just wanted to remind me to bring a jacket to dinner on Sunday because the forecast said it might get cold. That was it. That was the whole message. Something so small, so completely unremarkable, and it became the last thing I had of her voice.

It's been four years now. My phone has been replaced twice. I've backed up that voicemail to three different cloud drives, emailed it to myself, even recorded it playing on a separate device just in case one format fails. I don't listen to it often — maybe once or twice a year, usually around her birthday. But I don't think I could ever delete it.

Sometimes I think about how much of a person can live in ten seconds. Not the big things she said over the years, not the advice or the arguments or the years of Sunday dinners. Just a woman worried I'd be cold, reminding me to grab a jacket. I'd give almost anything for one more voicemail like that.