Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Hanging up my running shoes. Thinking of it. My knees ache and grind and sometimes when I’m sitting for a while it is all I can do to straighten my legs. I’m just wondering how much of an impact not running would have on my life. I’ve run for the past 17 years: 5Ks, 10Ks, half-marathons, marathons……..with an ultra as my goal for my 50th birthday. To stop running would require redefining who I am. I've always been a runner.
It feels like I’ve always run. Somedays I’m running toward something, other days I’m running away. Running makes me special. It keeps me healthy- mentally and physically. It makes me a good role model for my kids. It is my one redeeming quality and the only proof that I am visible in a sea of invisible middle-aged women. I’m a runner.
If I quit running, what will I do? When my husband and I argue, he always tells me to ‘go for a run’. What will I do then? I can’t run away! Whenever I need to plan something or practice a presentation, I practice to the beat of my feet hitting the ground. I enjoy all four seasons on my runs. Some of my best memories are of runs I’ve taken: the first snow, the first robin, the flocks of gobblers right before turkey season that I told no one about, the fields of daylilies that are blindingly beautiful when open on a bright, summer morning, the hidden secrets I’ve noticed out in the woods: foundations of old homes, barns, bridges. . . . I would miss all of this. And I just can’t get the same satisfaction out of a walk.
How can I give up running? It’s like giving up a best friend! I don't think I can give up running – but I think a compromise is in order. Jeff Galloway has an excellent plan to ‘run until you are 100’. I own the book – I think I own most all books written about running and the lore of running. What if I walk a bit? But mostly run? And on days I don’t feel it, mostly walk. Chirunning is also an option – and I have spent a small fortune of DVDs, books, tapes showing me how to perfect my posture and running position so that I am eliminating the strain on my hips, back, and knees. I will do this. There is no need to give up running.
Am I still a runner?
Monday, September 20, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Friday, September 17, 2010
Tidy. Clean. Not me. I guess I whirl through life like a tornado—constantly doing and not spending too much time backtracking. Or cleaning up after myself. In addition to being a bit odd, I am a notoriously poor housekeeper. It seems preposterous to me to pick up stuff that should have never been placed in a certain spot in the first place.
I have some definitely theories on this subject. First of all, I don’t keep crap. And by crap, I mean stuff that has no use or sentimental value. Things just for the purpose of having them are a waste of space. Towels, for instance, are used to dry one’s body. Does it really matter if all of my towels match? Or if they are in pristine condition? It doesn’t matter to me. If I spent a great deal of time in the bathroom, it might make a difference because I do like lots of bright colors in areas where I spend a lot of time. But not the bathroom.
Second, I feel like I am wasting time when I am cleaning. I could be spending my time living instead of cleaning. There are kids to play with, dogs to walk, trees to climb, creeks to photograph and if I am spending my time cleaning, how am I going to get my fill of all this other stuff?
Last, anyone can tell anything about us by looking at our kitchen and our living room. It is quite obvious the things we value. For me and the kids, its books – there are books everywhere! Magazines, library books are strewn throughout both rooms, stacked on shelves, on virtually every flat surface. There is yarn on the table – because one of my daughter’s has been very busy with knitting projects. My son’s quilt in the hoop which I’m handquilting…..all within easy reach.
Seriously, I have 6 dogs and 2 cats living with me in my house along with 3 kids and a mate. My house is very small and we heat with wood, cook with gas on an antique stove. We are very, very close—my kids and I. Both in proximity and in heart. Granted, it does get a little congested in there sometimes. It gets a bit irksome when you need to shimmy around the island in the kitchen, jump over 2 dogs, sidestep a cat, just to get to the bathroom but we all know what each other is doing, we are all connected.
Whenever anyone comes over, I feel as if I should prepare them for the clutter or, at least, apologize in advance for the general state of the house. But I don’t rush around and clean everything up. I hope that there are other things that visitors appreciate about me/us: good company, good cooking, good coffee.
I certainly do appreciate those people in my life for which a clean, tidy home is of utmost importance. They provide me the bit of guilt that motivates me to do the little cleaning that I do.
I want to use up my life with experiences. Not with housekeeping. I appreciate those people who are able to make a home spotless in minutes – but I am not one of those people. I am so easily distracted that the last time I cleaned a room from top to bottom, it took me an entire day. I don’t have that kind of time. I want to use the time I have doing fun things with my kids and enjoying them. Someday when I have nothing better to do, I’ll give the house a good cleaning.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
My goal for the weekend: search for my inner 4 year old!
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
I have seen the ghosts float down the stairs Forever moaning
The haunted house, its haunted
I have been down this gloomy road
their despairs I have lived in the haunted house's bedrooms Chamber for me, for
the dead their tombs I have slept through attempts to spook me away But with
nowhere to go, I'm forced to stay Shadows and echoes from no living soul Created
by demons whom I have no control I might be the only one with a heartbeat But I am
not the only one here to great Poltergeists and phantoms, spectres and ghouls Of
deceased warriors, politicians and fools There are many apparitions living
here But as strange as it sounds it's me that they fear The dead come to play in
the midnight hour Turning on lights and running the shower Entering my bedroom
through the stone wall But these things do not frighten at all What frightens me,
is to be here alone For it's not just the ghosts that you can hear groan All I
want is someone's hand to hold So I'm not left alone with the ghosts growing
I had a chance to run in the fog this morning……I’ve always cherished early morning runs. This wasn’t exactly early morning – I ran after the kids got on the bus. But all was still, peaceful, and quiet. And foggy. Ghostly. There is something about the fog—especially the autumn (or near autumn) fog that reminds me of Halloween.
Halloween has always been my favorite season not only because of the fall weather but because there are no expectations. No gifts. Nothing but candy if you wish to share. It is perfectly fine to decorate for Halloween in September because fall and Halloween are one and the same.
- I love running by myself. Well, kind of by myself – I had Casper with me. He’s kind of like a ghost himself. Are ghosts real? Or just what we think or hope is real. Ghosts are memories, for me. I see and feel the ghost of my aunt all of the time. I’ve felt the ghost of my grandfather a few times but he hasn’t visited me in years. I run into the ghost of myself every so often. The me who dreamt of a farm, of spending hours quilting, of a fulfilling job, of someone to love me, of chrysanthemums and daisys and huge gardens overloaded with vegetables of all sorts.
- Occasionally the ghost of me who wanted goats to milk visits – she was here last night. So sad. I wish she would stay.
Like a will-of-the-wisp, my ghostself flits away before I can snatch her.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Must be why I prefer the company of nature.