I've been thinking.

Earlier this summer, several kids that I taught in the past were fundraising for mission trips to Africa.  One of them posted about the money he needed to raise for the trip: $4000.  I thought, wow.  That's so much money--is a mission trip the best way to spend it?  Is that the best way to help kids?  How much medicine, how much food, how much clothing could be bought with that money?

Soon after having these thoughts, I realized that the real thing I needed to focus on was my role in all of that.  Do I want to play the role of complainer or do I want to use my feelings to make something happen?  The answer to that is obvious.  Since I was thinking in terms of money needed by organizations that help the less fortunate, I chose two organizations to begin donating to: the Arkansas Rice Depot and MAP International.  I chose them because I wanted to help both locally and internationally.  It turns out it is very easy to have recurring donations set up using a credit or debit card.

I wound up donating to the mission trip of one of the kids anyway.  I realized that my feelings were about me and, after doing something about them, I felt better about helping the student with something that mattered to her.  I learned an important lesson.

I am repeatedly hurt and shocked by people who don't put lgbt rights on their list of priorities.  It just doesn't really matter to so many people.  When asked, most people I know will probably say that they don't really care one way or another, or even that they really do support equal rights, but since it doesn't affect them on a day to day basis, they don't think about it much.

It's weird to imagine not thinking about lgbt rights since I think about them all the time.  Every day.  I have to.  When the assistant principal asked me if I was married, I had to think about it.  When the guy I was running with in the marathon asked me what my husband does, I had to think about it.  When I call my partner to say goodnight because we still don't live together because of past difficulties relating to lgbt rights, I think about it.  I think about it all the time and when I realize that so many people just DON'T, it gives me a hopeless feeling.

I had that feeling earlier today, and then I remembered my past feelings about the mission trips and I thought, what problems do other people think about all day every day that don't affect me--and that I don't think about?  Hunger?  Whether or not my car is going to break down and I won't have the money to fix it?  Whether or not my son will get sick and I'll have to take off work and lose pay because I don't have sick leave and then I won't be able to make rent?  Whether or not someone is going to hit me when I get home from work or if my phone will have been cut off?

A kid told another teacher this morning that he couldn't do his poster for his speech because he didn't know they were going to be moving and he had to pack most of the night.  I wonder what his life is like, what that family's lives are like, to have to move suddenly in the night like that?  And then come to school tomorrow?

I wish more people would make lgbt rights a priority even though they aren't affected by the issue, but the best way for me to deal with my feelings is to make other people's problems something that I think about.  It's time for me to start giving my time to issues that are hurting people who are less fortunate than me, who have fears and worries that I'm lucky enough not to have.

This afternoon I wasn't going to run.  I have some ant bites or something that have my ankle swollen so I was going to take the evening off.  I even sat down and drank a beer.  But then I decided I really needed my miles and my ankle felt better after some ice so I went out for 5 miles.  I finished up facing down the street toward my house.  It was a picture of the simple beauty of everyday life: the sun was mostly down and the sky glowed peach with some smudges of cloud reflecting the light.  Crepe myrtles decked in full lavender and hot pink lined the street and cicadas sang.  I thought, "This is simple life.  Why can't we just live this?"  But we can't.  There's too much else.

Tupelo Race Report!

Here's how it goes: I train all summer.  It's hot and I get up too damn early and it sucks.  I wake slowly, decide to quit running, and then finally get up and go.  I feel fine afterward and happy that I keep doing it.  I run my short runs and my medium runs and my 20 mile runs and feel ready.  Then I taper.  I do the 12 mile run and it feels long and solid.  Then I do the eight mile run the next week and it feels fine.  Then I do a couple of short runs the week before, and it culminates in the night before with me thinking, "WHAT???"  Because it feels like forever since I've run far and the idea of running 26.2 miles at 5 in the morning sounds preposterous.

But that's how it goes.  Kristin rode down with me.  We had pasta at Olive Garden the night before, grabbed some last minute stuff at WalMart, and I was in bed by 9.

It's dark at 5 am, and no body really gives any cues that the race is about to start.  We all started drifting toward the start, clustered around for a bit, and then, just like last year, everyone started moving.  I ran for a while with David from Mississippi, maybe, or Tennessee?  Having someone to talk to made the first 5-6 miles go by quickly.  Then I ran with a guy named Steve from Louisiana.  His cajun accent kept me company for a few more miles.  After that I was mostly on my own.  There was a maniac just in front of me for quite a few miles, but he slowed to a walk at one point and I went on.

Thank God for cloud cover.  It was cloudy and breezy for the whole race--the sun only peeked through a few times, more than enough to show me how horrible the race could have been without the clouds. 

I felt strong throughout.  On a few downhills my knee felt twingey, but it never became anything more.  I never had to walk except through aid stations (always well staffed in Tupelo by cheerful, helpful people.)  I know I could have run it faster if I had someone to push me some.  I don't know if I'll be able to put up a faster time later this year or if I should just wait to try for a PR again in Little Rock.

I prayed.  In the over-20 miles part of the race, I thanked God that I could be out there and asked for strength for everyone I could think of, and for everyone feeling weak and needing a boost.  I prayed for strength for myself to finish the race and for others to somehow be able to feel that strength.  I was thankful that the two snakes I saw were already dead...

After the race I grabbed a beer, took off my belts, and sat on the concrete to drink it and watch some people finish.  Then I went and got Kristin and we came back for a while, watching some more finishers and talking to some runners that I know or had met.  We were finally on our way home before noon.

We stopped before we got to Memphis and had lunch at Applebees.  The food was great and our server Randi was fun (the guy who sat us said she was fun when she wasn't moody and was cute but unfortunately for him, already had a boyfriend.)  We had beers and more pasta and dessert shooters and it was great to spend another meal enjoying a good friend.

Then last night J and I went to a great party with some more great friends, met a few new people, and had a wonderful time. 

I ask myself a lot, when I'm in th middle of training for a race, "Why do I do this again?"  But with that great post-race finish in my heart yesterday, as I was getting in the car to go get Kristin, I felt reminded, "This.  This is why."  And I'm so blessed to have been able to do it again and to have felt good through the whole race, to feel like, oh yeah, this is something I can do, something I do.