So yesterday while running I decided to set one goal for each day. Yesterday's goal was to drink more water. I had two sodas after getting home and then drank 2-3 big travel mugs of water before having a couple of glasses of white wine before bed. I think it was a successful day and I plan to work on repeating it.
My goal for today is to prepare for my week in Russellville, and just to overall work on my tendency to procrastinate at all times until something stops me. With that in mind, I got up and made a list of things I needed to get done. One thing on my list was to get Max a new bottle of pills before leaving for the week. I saw a bag of clothes I had gotten together for Goodwill and decided to drop them off on the way and then, becoming more energized, I decided to go through my hanging clothes quickly and got another bag together. I loaded these in the car and left, dropping them off and then heading to the vet.
For once the front of the vet's office wasn't packed and I was in and out in minutes.....to find that my car wouldn't start. Dead battery.
I've known for a month that I needed a new battery. It has had to be jumped a couple of times and the car made a sad noise every time I started it. But true to my nature, I kept putting it off and putting it off. Until this morning, on the day I promised to myself that I would focus on getting and being prepared---the universe reminded me of something else and pretty much required me to take care of it.
So I did. I went to O'Reilly right after my dad sent someone to rescue me with a jump. The guy at the shop was nice enough to put the battery in and now I have gotten something else done.
The rest of today is about packing and grocery shopping and probably some more cleaning. The packing is an important part of my goal because I usually wait until the last minute and then hastily throw stuff together and wind up forgetting something. I have a list and I keep thinking of more things to add to it.
Today is supposed to be a cross-training day for training. I considered running anyway so I would have a day in Russellville where I don't have to, but I decided not to. I figured after yesterday's long run and with how tired I've been, I could use the extra hour of sleep and slow start to the morning. Of course I don't get much time to sleep in, what with Max waking up and climbing on top of me and Xena thumping her tail against my door and then tap tap tapping into my room expectantly.
Since the hotel has a pool I'm planning on doing some swimming this evening before relaxing with my friends and coworkers. This is an important week for me work-wise because I'm really feeling the responsibility to be a leader and think responsibly about how to pull the department together and reach everyone's strengths.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Sunday, June 24, 2012
One thing.
After just a little procrastinating this morning, I got down to the river and started running at 6. With a high temperature of around 100 predicted, I knew I couldn't play around with my start time. The sky was already lightening when I got up and by the time I hit the top of the Big Dam Bridge, the sun was a bright orange button off to the south and east.
On the other side of the bridge, I went towards Rebsamen Park. The first few miles were clunky--my calves and shins tightened up almost immediately and I clomped along. After a bathroom stop at Murray Park, they loosened. I turned around at about the five mile point and retraced my path back.
I decided on no music this morning. I wanted to be more in tune with my surroundings and listen. I tried to pick out bird calls when I could--a pair of mourning doves, a cardinal, a few green herons, a host of others, I'm sure. I heard snatches of conversation from other runners and cyclists, my feet hitting the ground, my breathing, the wind. Overall my run today was much better than I expected, and I wonder if I'm more centered with my mind more focused on the here and now.
A little over 8 miles in, I stopped back at the Murray Park water fountain to refill my bottles. A woman was coaxing her dog to drink a bit, and we talked for a few minutes. I used to fixate much more on not stopping, not giving myself a break, but I'm more relaxed now and I'm glad. Her dog was a rescue, a small, sweet golden retriever mix named Mistletoe because she was adopted at Christmastime. She told me about Mistletoe and I told her about Max and Xena and then I moved on. I like those interactions. It's part of that community feeling that I get down on the trails.
I get out there and do my miles every week, but that's about the only thing I'm doing that I need to be doing. I need to work on my eating and drinking habits, the way I spend my time, my house...there are so many areas I need to improve in. To list every single thing is overwhelming, so today I decided that I will pick one thing every day. During my morning run I will decide on what it is. I will commit to myself to do this one thing for this one day. Then tomorrow I can pick something else. I have to work on keeping promises to myself without setting myself up to fail.
Today's commitment is to drink more water. I have a soda addiction--right up to the time that I switch to wine or beer in the evening. I know this is bad for me, but I have failed at multiple attempts to give it up or cut back. As I was fixing my breakfast (at 10:30 it wasn't exactly breakfast, but sliced tomatoes from the garden with a bit of Greek Seasoning, salt, and olive oil make a great snack) when I got back home, I craved a Dr. Pepper. At first I tried not to have one, but then I remembered my track record at trying to give up soda. I don't need to give it up completely and I don't need to fight myself. So after my morning sodas, I will make a big cup of ice water. My hope is that these things will make me feel better and happier and work themselves into my every day routine.
I made the 15 mile point with about a mile left to get back to my car. I had entertained some thoughts of going all beastmode and running the extra mile, but then I decided to walk and just enjoy it. I craned my neck to watch the swallows feeding their babies. I ambled up the bridge and then watched a boat go through the lock. I read the sign explaining how it worked--I had no idea the lock was filled or drained using gravity, but it's true. No pumps are used--a valve is opened and the water fills or drains as needed. As the bridge headed down hill back to Cook's Landing, I stopped to watch the swallows from a different angle, noticing their brownish color and how much smaller they are than I would have thought.
Between my early start and the nice breeze off the river, today was not such a hot run and felt really good. This ends a 37 mile week. Next week is a step back week that I imagine my body needs before ramping up to the 40's.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Do it anyway.
This week I've had AP training each morning starting at 8 in Little Rock. That meant waking up early to get the miles in. Monday night I set the alarm for 5:30. The alarm went off and my very first thought was NO. I'm not doing it. Forget it.
I lay there for a few minutes thinking it was not possible and I was not going. But I knew that failing to get up and run meant not running at all. I had plans Tuesday evening and Wednesday was my first night to have Ty back and I didn't want to spend an hour running after picking him up.
So. I got up. I thought of a new acquaintance who is blogging about training here. The newness and enthusiasm of training is nice in comparison to my sort of pissy I don't want to attitude. And there's Marita who is blaming me for the torture that she's putting herself through. I'm so proud. So yeah, I sort of slithered out of bed and got dressed with only a little pouting.
The mornings have really been pretty nice. On Tuesday I counted 6 rabbits, one with a speckled back. I saw nearly as many rabbits as squirrels.Wednesday I headed out just after 5:30 to get 7 miles done and it was dim, with a few clouds, but pretty. I went out on Brockington and passed several people running or walking dogs. This morning was just a four miler. It was cool enough again, enough so that the earphones actually stayed in my ears enough to listen to my book for the whole run.
Three days in a row I did what I didn't want to do....and accomplished what I wanted to accomplish. I feel so much better than I would have felt if I had stayed in bed. I want to be able to transfer that to other parts of my life: work, the house, hobbies. Why do I spend so much time online when I could be playing guitar or learning to crochet better or working in the yard, or just getting all the laundry put away? I know it's a matter of will-power and doing what I don't want to do, knowing that the results will make me happier and healthier. I'm thinking I could make some small steps and some commitments to myself. I don't know where I want to start.
Tomorrow is 7 miles and Sunday is 15. I look forward to a little extra sleep tomorrow since I don't have to be out early.
When the title for this post came to me, I thought of this song. Dream, believe, pray, love, sing.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Water fountains are for bathing in.
This morning I got down to the river and got started on my 14 mile run at about 7:00. I had been pretty nervous about this long one because I was getting out a little late and I knew there was a definite chance of the landscape bursting into flames, as a friend put it once.
I started out listening to The Age of Innocence on my phone. I've been listening to it for my past few runs. It's a good story, really, all love and scandal and society and more scandal. I only listened to it for about the first 4 miles before the sweat made the earbuds keep falling out. I usually enjoy running without music or books as much or more than with--if I hadn't taken the sound out, I would have missed the cardinal singing insistently or the deep croak of the frogs. I even like hearing the cyclists say, "On your left!" It's something about community and the experience.
I parked at the dog park in Burns Park and ran down to the Big Dam Bridge. It was still early and there was shade, so I went down a little ways towards Murray Park. When I ran out of shade I turned around and went back.
As I passed the bridge to go on up towards Two Rivers Park, I saw dozens of birds carrying food to their nests. Mud and grass nests lined the underneath of the the ramp up to the bridge. The birds would hover alongside the bridge until they figured out which nest was theirs, then drop in with the food and then duck back out. The holes to the nests were small and round, the nests large like mud gourds. It's a fascinating sight. I looked them up when I got home and I think they are cliff swallows.
I bathed myself in every water fountain: near the Big Dam Bridge, at next to 430 and on the other side of Two Rivers. I was trying to stay on the good side of the heat, and it did work out. There was enough shade and enough of a breeze to keep things manageable.
In Two Rivers Park, I appreciated the trail surrounded by pine trees, shady and cool. I told myself to count up the things I had seen: the birds with their mud nests and babies, the young bamboo stippling the side of the trail with jointed spokes of green, the bunny hopping off into the brush, the downy fluff lining the sides of the trail from the cottonwoods, the wide open fields with hay stacks on the outskirts, the place I know the deer hang out when it's quiet. There's a portion of the river trail that is lined with mimosa trees--the trees have grown over the trail a bit and the smell is cool and sweet. There are black berries blooming here and there--I passed a little girl picking them.
During the hard parts I made myself look inward and focus on the difficulty. At one hot part towards the end I embraced the heat and ran through it. Yes I was hot and yes it was hard, but I could keep going through it, and I did. I may have looked at the garmin a dozen times to see how much farther, but I kept going. Sometimes when it's hard it helps to look around and find the beauty that can distract you, and sometimes you have to focus on the pain because running from it or away from it keeps you from growing. You always have to come back and meet the pain and face it.
I was thankful for a strong run, for being able to keep a pretty solid, steady pace and feeling good at the end.
Next week will be a challenge. I have AP training four days, Monday through Thursday, and a 37 mile week. I also have plans to see some good friends and will be celebrating one of them getting back into running. Can't wait!
I started out listening to The Age of Innocence on my phone. I've been listening to it for my past few runs. It's a good story, really, all love and scandal and society and more scandal. I only listened to it for about the first 4 miles before the sweat made the earbuds keep falling out. I usually enjoy running without music or books as much or more than with--if I hadn't taken the sound out, I would have missed the cardinal singing insistently or the deep croak of the frogs. I even like hearing the cyclists say, "On your left!" It's something about community and the experience.
I parked at the dog park in Burns Park and ran down to the Big Dam Bridge. It was still early and there was shade, so I went down a little ways towards Murray Park. When I ran out of shade I turned around and went back.
As I passed the bridge to go on up towards Two Rivers Park, I saw dozens of birds carrying food to their nests. Mud and grass nests lined the underneath of the the ramp up to the bridge. The birds would hover alongside the bridge until they figured out which nest was theirs, then drop in with the food and then duck back out. The holes to the nests were small and round, the nests large like mud gourds. It's a fascinating sight. I looked them up when I got home and I think they are cliff swallows.
I bathed myself in every water fountain: near the Big Dam Bridge, at next to 430 and on the other side of Two Rivers. I was trying to stay on the good side of the heat, and it did work out. There was enough shade and enough of a breeze to keep things manageable.
In Two Rivers Park, I appreciated the trail surrounded by pine trees, shady and cool. I told myself to count up the things I had seen: the birds with their mud nests and babies, the young bamboo stippling the side of the trail with jointed spokes of green, the bunny hopping off into the brush, the downy fluff lining the sides of the trail from the cottonwoods, the wide open fields with hay stacks on the outskirts, the place I know the deer hang out when it's quiet. There's a portion of the river trail that is lined with mimosa trees--the trees have grown over the trail a bit and the smell is cool and sweet. There are black berries blooming here and there--I passed a little girl picking them.
During the hard parts I made myself look inward and focus on the difficulty. At one hot part towards the end I embraced the heat and ran through it. Yes I was hot and yes it was hard, but I could keep going through it, and I did. I may have looked at the garmin a dozen times to see how much farther, but I kept going. Sometimes when it's hard it helps to look around and find the beauty that can distract you, and sometimes you have to focus on the pain because running from it or away from it keeps you from growing. You always have to come back and meet the pain and face it.
I was thankful for a strong run, for being able to keep a pretty solid, steady pace and feeling good at the end.
Next week will be a challenge. I have AP training four days, Monday through Thursday, and a 37 mile week. I also have plans to see some good friends and will be celebrating one of them getting back into running. Can't wait!
Thursday, June 7, 2012
The Chronicles of Argenta
This is a post about a day that I did not run. I drank too much beer the night before, stayed up too late, and skipped my planned 3 miles. That's just the truth. It happens.
I went down to Argenta to meet my sister Katie and my aunt Lee Lee for lunch. Lee Lee beat us there and got the cool booth in the window for prime people watching. Katie and I joined her and ordered Blue Moons. Lunch was lovely and we enjoyed the time out with each other sans kids in the middle of the day. We tabbed out and Lee Lee left and Katie and I decided to have one more beer together (for a total of two if anyone is keeping track.)
After that, we needed a walk before driving, so first we headed over to the antique store next door. We admired frogs hanging from the ceiling looking interestingly phallic, fingerless mannequins with paddle hands, and some especially lovely vibrating upholstered chairs upstairs. The guy working there said they usually charge for people to have that much fun, so we took that as our hint.
We left the store and crossed the street. In the entry-way of the Starving Artists' Cafe, we saw a painting of a woman with stars tattooed on her lower back, dipping down below her pants. Inspiration! We decided we needed to get that tattoo....right then. We did take a minute to text some important people about our plans, but set off down the street in search of a tattoo place in Argenta.
Just down the street, a man was getting comfortable on a bench outside a storefront. Katie, assuming he was homeless (because he was carrying a backpack) and that homeless people know where to get tattoos, asked him if he knew of a place. It turns out that he didn't, but was eager to talk to us about why we would want to defile our temples by tattooing them in the first place. I told him that I didn't think that the parts of the Bible that he was using to support the defilement argument really worked for me, and then I told him I was gay.
Oops. Newly energized, he got up from his bench and (asking permission to approach us!) began his earnest effort to save me from certain hell-fire. (The he did profess his love for all people). I didn't listen very well though, which was very frustrating to him. He wanted me to listen to him quote about how the effeminate will not inherit the kingdom of God. I've actually heard that one before, but he didn't want to debate the meaning of effeminate with me. Damn. Katie and I decided to give that discussion up (Katie was less patient than me) just as I heard someone calling from across the street. (I believe in the importance of conversation, but I think quoting scripture falls under the same rule as jokes: "Oh, you've heard that one before? Ok then...")
But back to the call from across the street! It was Dave and Claudia and their kids! I hadn't seen Dave and Claudia in over a year! Katie and I nearly got runover as we escaped from the guy trying to save us from ourselves. I knew Dave and Claudia were moving to North Little Rock, but I firmly believe that running into them was a sign--of a number of things. They were heading in the Starving Artists Cafe for lunch, so Katie and I joined them for hot tea and conversation.
After that, we were back to the tattoo discussion. With varying levels of support from our romantic counterparts, we decided to go for it and drove up to 7th Street. We each got the same 5 stars, but in different colors and places. Katie got hers on the top of her foot and mine is on my right side.
And that's the end, I guess. I had a great day of adventuring with my amazing sister, was lucky to run into some wonderful old friends, and did not run any miles. I made up for it yesterday with 7 and today with 5. I'm back on track.
I went down to Argenta to meet my sister Katie and my aunt Lee Lee for lunch. Lee Lee beat us there and got the cool booth in the window for prime people watching. Katie and I joined her and ordered Blue Moons. Lunch was lovely and we enjoyed the time out with each other sans kids in the middle of the day. We tabbed out and Lee Lee left and Katie and I decided to have one more beer together (for a total of two if anyone is keeping track.)
After that, we needed a walk before driving, so first we headed over to the antique store next door. We admired frogs hanging from the ceiling looking interestingly phallic, fingerless mannequins with paddle hands, and some especially lovely vibrating upholstered chairs upstairs. The guy working there said they usually charge for people to have that much fun, so we took that as our hint.
We left the store and crossed the street. In the entry-way of the Starving Artists' Cafe, we saw a painting of a woman with stars tattooed on her lower back, dipping down below her pants. Inspiration! We decided we needed to get that tattoo....right then. We did take a minute to text some important people about our plans, but set off down the street in search of a tattoo place in Argenta.
Just down the street, a man was getting comfortable on a bench outside a storefront. Katie, assuming he was homeless (because he was carrying a backpack) and that homeless people know where to get tattoos, asked him if he knew of a place. It turns out that he didn't, but was eager to talk to us about why we would want to defile our temples by tattooing them in the first place. I told him that I didn't think that the parts of the Bible that he was using to support the defilement argument really worked for me, and then I told him I was gay.
Oops. Newly energized, he got up from his bench and (asking permission to approach us!) began his earnest effort to save me from certain hell-fire. (The he did profess his love for all people). I didn't listen very well though, which was very frustrating to him. He wanted me to listen to him quote about how the effeminate will not inherit the kingdom of God. I've actually heard that one before, but he didn't want to debate the meaning of effeminate with me. Damn. Katie and I decided to give that discussion up (Katie was less patient than me) just as I heard someone calling from across the street. (I believe in the importance of conversation, but I think quoting scripture falls under the same rule as jokes: "Oh, you've heard that one before? Ok then...")
But back to the call from across the street! It was Dave and Claudia and their kids! I hadn't seen Dave and Claudia in over a year! Katie and I nearly got runover as we escaped from the guy trying to save us from ourselves. I knew Dave and Claudia were moving to North Little Rock, but I firmly believe that running into them was a sign--of a number of things. They were heading in the Starving Artists Cafe for lunch, so Katie and I joined them for hot tea and conversation.
After that, we were back to the tattoo discussion. With varying levels of support from our romantic counterparts, we decided to go for it and drove up to 7th Street. We each got the same 5 stars, but in different colors and places. Katie got hers on the top of her foot and mine is on my right side.
And that's the end, I guess. I had a great day of adventuring with my amazing sister, was lucky to run into some wonderful old friends, and did not run any miles. I made up for it yesterday with 7 and today with 5. I'm back on track.
Friday, May 18, 2012
In which I give relationship advice: look out.
Tomorrow I leave to run marathon number 5 in Pelham, Alabama. Kristin is coming with me. It's our first road trip together, and my first time to go off with someone who also wants to run. I'm glad she was inspired at the Little Rock Marathon and I hope this weekend she's able to fall a little in love with running.
Yesterday I did my last run before the race on Sunday. I ran three miles and it was terrible. It was hot, I was tired, and I did not feel strong. I keep counting the days/miles/weeks since my last marathon, comparing to training for other marathons, and analyzing my level or preparedness. I don't know why because I know this is going to be fun: it's a trail race! But there is the nagging irrational fear--what if only fast people run this race and I'm left behind?? What if running on a trail is way harder than I expected and I can't do it? What if.....
On my way home from work I started thinking about love. (Aww how sweet!) I was thinking about a friend of mine and his relationship problems, maybe some of my past relationship problems, though no specific ones, and just what happens to people in general when it comes to long term togetherness. (I'm going somewhere with this!) Always somewhere in my mind is the level of validity that various people give to certain relationships, both their own and other people's. A long term, strong relationship is like a long, hilly run. People will tell you sort of automatically and tritely that there are ups and downs, but you can't really see that until you look back on several years. In any relationship, you'll be able to see after a while where you've been, and based on where you were, you can kind of tell where you'll be again. If you can see good in the past and good in the future, then you can know that whatever low you might be in will pass. You have to be patient. You have to be willing to sweat it out, or to shut up and deal with your (my) own issues, or to own your own mistakes or faults, or to be forgiving of your partner's. I'm connecting this to running because I think it explains crappy runs. How can I have a crappy three mile run on Thursday and then successfully complete 26.2 on Sunday? It's because I'm in a long-term relationship with running: I see where I've been and I have faith that I can be there again. During a down-time with my partner (for whatever reason), I can see where I've been and trust that I can be there again. If you give up on a relationship or a marriage because of a series of bad moments or funks or miscommunications, you give up on the possibility that you'll be at the good again.
You give up on the awesomeness of familiarity, too. Familiar is not bad or dull. Passion can be familiar. The sweet tenderness of a familiar kiss? Unmatchable. Know where you've been. Maybe you don't know exactly where you're going, but you have to be willing to believe that it will be somewhere snug and soft and good. The familiar exhilarating strength of running is too much to give up on, too. Even in summer, even when it's morning and staying in bed would be easier. Easy doesn't get you anywhere. When things are tough in any part of life, we have to ask ourselves: where have I been, where will I wind up again, and how much work, (how many miles?) am I putting into it?
Back to that validity thing.You have to validate yourself, your relationship, and your commitment to whomever you love. You have to believe that it's right and that you deserve happiness. I have to do that, and I have to keep doing that. You have to look at other people where they are and support them. We have to hold people together when we can. I had to believe that I deserved happiness in my relationship in order to have it. I have to support the people around me, listen to them and give them what they need. Where running is concerned, it's important to me to support people when they are getting started. That's part of why I'm excited about going away with Kristin. It's why I got so much out of volunteering at the Women Can Run 5k last weekend: so much potential strength and emotion through running, through completing something, through women believing in each other.
Sometimes you look at where you've been and you know that where you will probably end up is not a place that you want to be. I've been there too. Dropping out of that "race" can be hard--admitting defeat, giving up, disappointing someone. But believing in yourself means knowing when to rest, when to stop, when to take a break, when to make a new plan.
Right now, my bag is packed and I'm looking forward to the trip. I think it will be a great one.
Yesterday I did my last run before the race on Sunday. I ran three miles and it was terrible. It was hot, I was tired, and I did not feel strong. I keep counting the days/miles/weeks since my last marathon, comparing to training for other marathons, and analyzing my level or preparedness. I don't know why because I know this is going to be fun: it's a trail race! But there is the nagging irrational fear--what if only fast people run this race and I'm left behind?? What if running on a trail is way harder than I expected and I can't do it? What if.....
On my way home from work I started thinking about love. (Aww how sweet!) I was thinking about a friend of mine and his relationship problems, maybe some of my past relationship problems, though no specific ones, and just what happens to people in general when it comes to long term togetherness. (I'm going somewhere with this!) Always somewhere in my mind is the level of validity that various people give to certain relationships, both their own and other people's. A long term, strong relationship is like a long, hilly run. People will tell you sort of automatically and tritely that there are ups and downs, but you can't really see that until you look back on several years. In any relationship, you'll be able to see after a while where you've been, and based on where you were, you can kind of tell where you'll be again. If you can see good in the past and good in the future, then you can know that whatever low you might be in will pass. You have to be patient. You have to be willing to sweat it out, or to shut up and deal with your (my) own issues, or to own your own mistakes or faults, or to be forgiving of your partner's. I'm connecting this to running because I think it explains crappy runs. How can I have a crappy three mile run on Thursday and then successfully complete 26.2 on Sunday? It's because I'm in a long-term relationship with running: I see where I've been and I have faith that I can be there again. During a down-time with my partner (for whatever reason), I can see where I've been and trust that I can be there again. If you give up on a relationship or a marriage because of a series of bad moments or funks or miscommunications, you give up on the possibility that you'll be at the good again.
You give up on the awesomeness of familiarity, too. Familiar is not bad or dull. Passion can be familiar. The sweet tenderness of a familiar kiss? Unmatchable. Know where you've been. Maybe you don't know exactly where you're going, but you have to be willing to believe that it will be somewhere snug and soft and good. The familiar exhilarating strength of running is too much to give up on, too. Even in summer, even when it's morning and staying in bed would be easier. Easy doesn't get you anywhere. When things are tough in any part of life, we have to ask ourselves: where have I been, where will I wind up again, and how much work, (how many miles?) am I putting into it?
Back to that validity thing.You have to validate yourself, your relationship, and your commitment to whomever you love. You have to believe that it's right and that you deserve happiness. I have to do that, and I have to keep doing that. You have to look at other people where they are and support them. We have to hold people together when we can. I had to believe that I deserved happiness in my relationship in order to have it. I have to support the people around me, listen to them and give them what they need. Where running is concerned, it's important to me to support people when they are getting started. That's part of why I'm excited about going away with Kristin. It's why I got so much out of volunteering at the Women Can Run 5k last weekend: so much potential strength and emotion through running, through completing something, through women believing in each other.
Sometimes you look at where you've been and you know that where you will probably end up is not a place that you want to be. I've been there too. Dropping out of that "race" can be hard--admitting defeat, giving up, disappointing someone. But believing in yourself means knowing when to rest, when to stop, when to take a break, when to make a new plan.
Right now, my bag is packed and I'm looking forward to the trip. I think it will be a great one.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Barbed wire and monopoly
Today I went out for a short run to clear my head and recover from the marathon. As soon as I got out there, I felt better. In a way, I think that the first run after a marathon makes me feel as much like a runner as the marathon itself. Because of the return, of the homeness. I break into a glide (or a hobble) and remember. After my first marathon I took ten days to recover before running again. These days I take one or two, but the feeling is the same. Relief.
I was in such a mood when I got home. Grouchy, out of sorts, wanting to lash out at someone but knowing that I really didn't. I don't have anyone to be mad at. Spring is hard at work. I went out to look at my garden: 14 young green bean plants uncurling in the dirt made me happy, but not completely. I hadn't even totally planned on running since my foot has still been hurting, but suddenly I needed to really badly. I came inside to change, searching like a crazy person for my stuff where I had thrown my bag when I got home Sunday. Not only did I desperately need to run, but I very much needed to listen to Chris Pureka while I did it. I tore up the house looking for headphones and finally found some.
Out on the road in the heat under the blue sky and trees, I found my peace. "Swann Song" came on, with the chorus, "It was a good life, yeah it was a good life. I'd do it all again." I started thinking about the things I would do again, the things from my childhood that I would like to do maybe even just one more time. I would like to wander aimlessly in the country and slide under a barbed wire fence like I go in and out of doors these days. I would like to play in another softball tournament. Not as an adult. As a 12 year old, finish up dusty and sit back against bat bags drinking cokes and taking off my cleats and socks and looking at my hot, dirty feet. I would like to spend a night with my childhood best friend, Cristi, laughing and laughing at Skip Bo and the very first Mario Brothers and I would like her to beat me at Monopoly while her cat lay on the top of the box next to us. I would like to play catch with Taffy one more time. I would like her to bring me her tennis ball and drop it at my feet and I would like to throw it and throw it down the hall in the house I grew up in, bouncing it off my mom and dad's bedroom door and watching Taffy put the breaks on and scramble back up the hallway for the ball. I would like to drive in the dark down a country road in the summer with all the windows down and watch the lightning bugs in the field, so many that the field looked alive and full and magical. I would like to walk down the basement stairs again, only one stair with carpet, and maybe turn old bits of sheet rock to dust outside the basement door with my brother. I would like to fall asleep on the floor on a sheet in front of a box fan in the middle of the summer in a house with no air conditioning and wake up chilled.
I would like to know where the mark is that divides my childhood from my adulthood, where the line is that marks what was possible then and what is impossible now. I would like back the parts of me that I gave away in my teenage years for no good reason.
Running took me there, running and the sweet salty sound of Chris Pureka's voice. Right now I'm not sure if it's the best place to be, but I do know that I bless the content feeling in my legs and knowing (or hoping) that it will be there for me next time.
Maybe you can go where I went. (Or in other words, go listen to the song that took me there.)
I was in such a mood when I got home. Grouchy, out of sorts, wanting to lash out at someone but knowing that I really didn't. I don't have anyone to be mad at. Spring is hard at work. I went out to look at my garden: 14 young green bean plants uncurling in the dirt made me happy, but not completely. I hadn't even totally planned on running since my foot has still been hurting, but suddenly I needed to really badly. I came inside to change, searching like a crazy person for my stuff where I had thrown my bag when I got home Sunday. Not only did I desperately need to run, but I very much needed to listen to Chris Pureka while I did it. I tore up the house looking for headphones and finally found some.
Out on the road in the heat under the blue sky and trees, I found my peace. "Swann Song" came on, with the chorus, "It was a good life, yeah it was a good life. I'd do it all again." I started thinking about the things I would do again, the things from my childhood that I would like to do maybe even just one more time. I would like to wander aimlessly in the country and slide under a barbed wire fence like I go in and out of doors these days. I would like to play in another softball tournament. Not as an adult. As a 12 year old, finish up dusty and sit back against bat bags drinking cokes and taking off my cleats and socks and looking at my hot, dirty feet. I would like to spend a night with my childhood best friend, Cristi, laughing and laughing at Skip Bo and the very first Mario Brothers and I would like her to beat me at Monopoly while her cat lay on the top of the box next to us. I would like to play catch with Taffy one more time. I would like her to bring me her tennis ball and drop it at my feet and I would like to throw it and throw it down the hall in the house I grew up in, bouncing it off my mom and dad's bedroom door and watching Taffy put the breaks on and scramble back up the hallway for the ball. I would like to drive in the dark down a country road in the summer with all the windows down and watch the lightning bugs in the field, so many that the field looked alive and full and magical. I would like to walk down the basement stairs again, only one stair with carpet, and maybe turn old bits of sheet rock to dust outside the basement door with my brother. I would like to fall asleep on the floor on a sheet in front of a box fan in the middle of the summer in a house with no air conditioning and wake up chilled.
I would like to know where the mark is that divides my childhood from my adulthood, where the line is that marks what was possible then and what is impossible now. I would like back the parts of me that I gave away in my teenage years for no good reason.
Running took me there, running and the sweet salty sound of Chris Pureka's voice. Right now I'm not sure if it's the best place to be, but I do know that I bless the content feeling in my legs and knowing (or hoping) that it will be there for me next time.
Maybe you can go where I went. (Or in other words, go listen to the song that took me there.)
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