The thing about running is there are so many many things... there is more than shoes and hope and faith and effort... there is an endless supply of run on sentences in your head on the trail...
There is a need that comes in the middle of the night before a race. It takes you by surprise when you were quite comfortable in your thinking before slumber. The you that went to bed was excited, nervous, anxious, ready... The you that wakes you up in the middle of a quiet blissful dream is more on edge, determined, focused, impatient and resolute.
Your challenge in life becomes about bridging that gap between the you that was and the you that seems oh so present and about ready to birth itself in this new found reality you've created.
You realise, you ARE a runner, good, bad or slow, fast... doesn't matter... The you that lays in bed staring up at the ceiling so mesmerized by the cobwebs and your hopeful cleansing... that you is a runner. Whether injured or trained, whether starting or finishing... a runner.
The most insane moment of my training, this crazy ass training that seemed so important at the time... was about ten seconds ago... when I discovered the part of my upcoming marathon I was looking forward to the most is the part where it all falls apart. That moment when my feet give up and my heart has to take over... Or further, when my heart says screw you you babbling idiot... and my stubbornness gets to win the day... I cannot wait to meet my wall, greet my wall and embrace it, breathe it in... Swim in it a while and feel its calm caress against my will power. As if to say ... "are you sure?"
Just between you and me and all things in chaos... .... ....
I have never been so sure...
I am a runner... I was not born this way. I was not made this way.
I ran this way.
Day 304 of 365 days of running... current total 1625.24km
Full marathon seven days away :)
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Thursday, October 20, 2011
In The Silence What Do You Hear?
So last night, day 293, I was lucky to participate in a poetry reading downtown Peterborough at The Spill. Thank you WORD UP for having me there and hearing my silly poem.
In the silence what do you hear?
What do I hear? I hear angels dancing on the wind. I hear the worms burrowing further underground. I hear the trees letting go of their leaf attachments, preparing for their empty nests. I hear the compost gathering warmth before the coming frost. I hear the moon claiming time and the sun relinquishing the same. I hear the stars aligning for all to share. I hear your wish unsaid in your soul, longing to felt.... I hear my breathing. I hear my heartbeat. I hear my life living.
I hear your question again, as if some part still unanswered....
In the silence what do you hear?
One last time I hear your question....
In a word? I hear my answer, resonating through the earth, off my soul, around your fear, across the galaxy and back... like a cosmic pinball game... I hear my answer... In the silence, what do I hear? In a word, what do I hear?
The following is the poem was what I shared. It needs some explanation however. A few days before the event my dear friend John posted on the groups Facebook page this question; In the silence what do you hear? It inspired me to write the following. When I read it last night I asked John to take part by reading the question at intervals during the poem.... thank you John for helping create this sharing :)
In the silence what do you hear?
What do I hear? I hear a chorus of mayhem, of chaos, of thoughts rebounding off the metaphorical walls someone else put up. I hear a musical being orchestrated off the cuff in your head without the fear of judgement or the need to appease. I hear the song you sang in the shower still ringing in your head... I hear my breathing. I hear my heartbeat. I hear my life living.
I hear your question again....
In the silence what do you hear?
What do I hear? I hear angels dancing on the wind. I hear the worms burrowing further underground. I hear the trees letting go of their leaf attachments, preparing for their empty nests. I hear the compost gathering warmth before the coming frost. I hear the moon claiming time and the sun relinquishing the same. I hear the stars aligning for all to share. I hear your wish unsaid in your soul, longing to felt.... I hear my breathing. I hear my heartbeat. I hear my life living.
I hear your question again, as if some part still unanswered....
In the silence what do you hear?
What do I hear? I hear the road calling my feet. I hear the trail tempting my presence. I hear the breeze wishing to move my hair. I hear the chamomile wanting a last embrace. I hear the mud turning as if to twist in my treads. I hear that bridge 13.33km away sending me the image I could see if I'd just run towards its hope. I hear faith pushing all my buttons, flirting with my stubbornness.... I hear my breathing. I hear my heartbeat. I hear my life living.
One last time I hear your question....
In the silence, what do you hear?
What do I hear? What do I hear? Perhaps the question should be; what do I allow myself to hear? But alas... What do I hear?
In a word? I hear my answer, resonating through the earth, off my soul, around your fear, across the galaxy and back... like a cosmic pinball game... I hear my answer... In the silence, what do I hear? In a word, what do I hear?
"Potential"
Friday, October 14, 2011
... as if I could
The day you learn to trust yourself is usually the day that fate or destiny or karma or God or 'insert descriptive here' decides to throw something new in your face that cannot be ignored. This day when you wake up and have such a mental realization as to start your life anew in all things you were missing... this day is the day your adaptation to change just begins. It's the day that pushes your every button, the moment when you genuinely believed for a few paralysing moments you had things figured out. The coffee tastes too perfectly perked, the breeze blows just right across your face so as not to cause frizzy hair, the embrace you'd been longing for is suddenly offered, and all the heavens appear to inhale at once allowing for your heartbeat to fill the air in solitude.
Then something changes... Or perhaps... you change.
The creamer for the coffee is sour, making you ponder whether or not you should cut back. The child who was completely at peace in one moment is now dissolved in tears over a unsolvable issue ... like a broken graham cracker. The hairspray bottle is empty and your goal of impressing someone today drifts into allowing them to see you all too clearly... when all you wished for was one moment of time when your best foot landed first. That relative calls with strange altering news. The babysitter cancels making your breath increase. And all the heavens seem to laugh as if to watch your coping tactics in that moment when your heartbeat overfills your chest and life is, you realise, in flux again.
A run is like this.... especially if you are in the training for some big goal and everything is going well. You start to trust yourself. You start to let things be as they are. You are so focused on focus you don't see the injury coming. How did that happen? How did that cosmic crash end up in your front yard like a pile of elephant dung you managed to not only tread in, but completely cover yourself in?
And how do you breathe in that moment when all your body is feeling disappointment and lack of hope?
Every day in those weeks between feeling great and wanting to conquer the world and the realization that things will have to change, that you are in fact not invincible... every day feels like forever. Every day feels like a loss. It sparks such mourning in my soul as to prompt a ritual ceremony from the dark ages. Bring on the drums, lite the fire, send the smoke signals in the air, dance the mystical dance of healing and pray, chant, focus. Let the doves fly free, let the horizon clear with the dawn fog, dissipating in the distance like a curtain lifting. And all of life in balance. Please... heal.
Support comes in waves from friends, family and others. All of which I am grateful for. All of which I am thankful for. In the palm of one hand are those that believe my goal for this year is manageable, is worth completion. It is problematic to ask for help when you know 9 out of 10 people will tell you "this is your fault, stop running".
Stop running? as if I could. as if I had a choice.... there is so much of me scattered out among the fall leaves that I need to collect.... there is so much of me I am still piecing back together... there is so much of me needing this cleanse, this healing, this last 77 days, three races, four cakes and one soul changing journey.
Stop running? the mirror cracks so close to repair... the shoe laces far too close to untangled... the delicate frowns nearing undone... the strength I seek in myself so figuratively unearthed... Have you felt the ground underfoot ? It calls to me like a child in the night, like a soul mate in the quiet dream, like heaven in tall grass and bare feet.
Running... allows me to center, gives me focus, grants me peace... helps to ground me to this balance and patience I seem to search for, seem to yearn for.
Such a long two weeks of recovery. And still so much time ahead of slower pace, of listening to my capabilities every day, every minute, every step. All you can do is..... Be here now. This my day 288 I ran, as I did yesterday, as - God willing- I will tomorrow.
Peace to you in running, May your every step bring a fresh ability to adapt to whatever change you are dealing with in life.
Day 288 current total of 365 days of running - 1549.98km
Then something changes... Or perhaps... you change.
The creamer for the coffee is sour, making you ponder whether or not you should cut back. The child who was completely at peace in one moment is now dissolved in tears over a unsolvable issue ... like a broken graham cracker. The hairspray bottle is empty and your goal of impressing someone today drifts into allowing them to see you all too clearly... when all you wished for was one moment of time when your best foot landed first. That relative calls with strange altering news. The babysitter cancels making your breath increase. And all the heavens seem to laugh as if to watch your coping tactics in that moment when your heartbeat overfills your chest and life is, you realise, in flux again.
A run is like this.... especially if you are in the training for some big goal and everything is going well. You start to trust yourself. You start to let things be as they are. You are so focused on focus you don't see the injury coming. How did that happen? How did that cosmic crash end up in your front yard like a pile of elephant dung you managed to not only tread in, but completely cover yourself in?
And how do you breathe in that moment when all your body is feeling disappointment and lack of hope?
Every day in those weeks between feeling great and wanting to conquer the world and the realization that things will have to change, that you are in fact not invincible... every day feels like forever. Every day feels like a loss. It sparks such mourning in my soul as to prompt a ritual ceremony from the dark ages. Bring on the drums, lite the fire, send the smoke signals in the air, dance the mystical dance of healing and pray, chant, focus. Let the doves fly free, let the horizon clear with the dawn fog, dissipating in the distance like a curtain lifting. And all of life in balance. Please... heal.
Support comes in waves from friends, family and others. All of which I am grateful for. All of which I am thankful for. In the palm of one hand are those that believe my goal for this year is manageable, is worth completion. It is problematic to ask for help when you know 9 out of 10 people will tell you "this is your fault, stop running".
Stop running? as if I could. as if I had a choice.... there is so much of me scattered out among the fall leaves that I need to collect.... there is so much of me I am still piecing back together... there is so much of me needing this cleanse, this healing, this last 77 days, three races, four cakes and one soul changing journey.
Stop running? the mirror cracks so close to repair... the shoe laces far too close to untangled... the delicate frowns nearing undone... the strength I seek in myself so figuratively unearthed... Have you felt the ground underfoot ? It calls to me like a child in the night, like a soul mate in the quiet dream, like heaven in tall grass and bare feet.
Running... allows me to center, gives me focus, grants me peace... helps to ground me to this balance and patience I seem to search for, seem to yearn for.
Such a long two weeks of recovery. And still so much time ahead of slower pace, of listening to my capabilities every day, every minute, every step. All you can do is..... Be here now. This my day 288 I ran, as I did yesterday, as - God willing- I will tomorrow.
Peace to you in running, May your every step bring a fresh ability to adapt to whatever change you are dealing with in life.
Day 288 current total of 365 days of running - 1549.98km
Monday, September 26, 2011
Sweet Silence
All things stand still in the quiet, in the hush, in those moments of harsh truth when words too much to hear were heard.
All but the clocks ticking in a thunderous rhythm upon the wall, counting down, relentlessly pushing forward.
That flag I carry in longing, in wait, forever searching for the infamous perfect place to strike it into the ground, as if to claim space... it rests still on my shoulder.
As if to claim space that was never mine to have.
Figuratively speaking, I feel my feet on the ground. I certainly felt them yesterday at 34.5km into my 36km run when the worst foot cramp I've ever had filled me with intense reality.
Unbeknownst to me, in the quiet, in the focus, in the momentary hunt for glory... someone else's discovery takes the place of my feet on the ground.
As if to brush that ownership of life deep under the rug, where it falls grain by grain through the floorboards, forever forgotten.
In silence.
Distantly I hear the voices of support, striking a cord I continue to ignore.
They call to me in a whisper, but that's more likely because I'm not listening, they could be shouting for all I know.
Too long in solitude, too far gone to stubbornness, too quiet in my shoes, standing tall and hypocritical of hope.
I am lost in this world, this current chaos, this cosmic interlude of hurt and anger.
Such reasons to celebrate, such focus as to forget, such time as to be still.
Such reasons to weep, such loss as to remember, such time as to quicken my pace.
Each day a new pot of coffee, each day a new sunrise, each day a glisten of hope I do not embrace, each day a new day.
And this day, day 269... taking stock of all I have seen this year; hope, faith, kindness, fear, abandon, goals, smiles, tears, hurt, anger, pain.... taking stock of all I have run through; chicken pox, board exams, races, sleepless nights, flooded basements, near bear experiences, a change of pace, the end of a marriage, the beginning of change.... taking stock of all I foresee; yet more hope, yet more faith, countless prayers, yet more fear, the overcoming of that fear, more goals to accomplish, and still much hurt to travel through.
Mostly... I see 96 more runs. Runs in the rain, in the sun, on the road, on the track, the hill, the trail. Runs close to home, runs to the finish line, runs with new friends, with old friends, guided, solo. Runs for focus, for guidance, for peace. Runs for abandon, for joy, for the seeking of all goodness and calm. Runs in the dark when no one is looking. Runs when I least expect them. Runs planned. Runs in my new pink shoes. Runs along the path of this life, so carelessly lived .... up til now.
Day 269 of 365 days of running current total - 1468.28km
begs the question, how many steps does a lifetime take?
All but the clocks ticking in a thunderous rhythm upon the wall, counting down, relentlessly pushing forward.
That flag I carry in longing, in wait, forever searching for the infamous perfect place to strike it into the ground, as if to claim space... it rests still on my shoulder.
As if to claim space that was never mine to have.
Figuratively speaking, I feel my feet on the ground. I certainly felt them yesterday at 34.5km into my 36km run when the worst foot cramp I've ever had filled me with intense reality.
Unbeknownst to me, in the quiet, in the focus, in the momentary hunt for glory... someone else's discovery takes the place of my feet on the ground.
As if to brush that ownership of life deep under the rug, where it falls grain by grain through the floorboards, forever forgotten.
In silence.
Distantly I hear the voices of support, striking a cord I continue to ignore.
They call to me in a whisper, but that's more likely because I'm not listening, they could be shouting for all I know.
Too long in solitude, too far gone to stubbornness, too quiet in my shoes, standing tall and hypocritical of hope.
I am lost in this world, this current chaos, this cosmic interlude of hurt and anger.
Such reasons to celebrate, such focus as to forget, such time as to be still.
Such reasons to weep, such loss as to remember, such time as to quicken my pace.
Each day a new pot of coffee, each day a new sunrise, each day a glisten of hope I do not embrace, each day a new day.
And this day, day 269... taking stock of all I have seen this year; hope, faith, kindness, fear, abandon, goals, smiles, tears, hurt, anger, pain.... taking stock of all I have run through; chicken pox, board exams, races, sleepless nights, flooded basements, near bear experiences, a change of pace, the end of a marriage, the beginning of change.... taking stock of all I foresee; yet more hope, yet more faith, countless prayers, yet more fear, the overcoming of that fear, more goals to accomplish, and still much hurt to travel through.
Mostly... I see 96 more runs. Runs in the rain, in the sun, on the road, on the track, the hill, the trail. Runs close to home, runs to the finish line, runs with new friends, with old friends, guided, solo. Runs for focus, for guidance, for peace. Runs for abandon, for joy, for the seeking of all goodness and calm. Runs in the dark when no one is looking. Runs when I least expect them. Runs planned. Runs in my new pink shoes. Runs along the path of this life, so carelessly lived .... up til now.
Day 269 of 365 days of running current total - 1468.28km
begs the question, how many steps does a lifetime take?
Friday, September 23, 2011
A Running Poem...
.... as read Wednesday night at The Spill WORD UP poerty reading
Before the run...
In the quiet hushed moments of slumber before stupid o'clock rings on the alarm... I feel myself start to stir.
As if my soul knows it is about to tangle itself around the dirt in my shoes.
As if my third eye foresees the hill I've set out to run 5, 6, 7 + times soon.
As if acceptance isn't far behind and all of my being is saying.... “yes please”...
In the dark gentle miiliseconds of lost sleep after the shock of stupid o'clock.... I give myself hope.
It seeps into my bones like a caffeine drip, pushing my every go button.
It creeps through my veins like an inoculation against all things negative.
It crawls across my skin like the taste of forever on your lips.
In the anticipatory pause filled with steaming tea sipped by indiglo microwave numbers... I lose all fear.
It drips away from my neediness like honey on a spoon, slow and steady, making my hands sticky as it passes consciousness.
It oozes past my peripheral senses like neglected boogies on my sons cheek, reminding me of all I've forgotten.
It lingers briefly just past my reach as if tempting me one last time to re-embrace it with welcoming arms.
In the climatic seconds searching for my shoe in blackness, tripping over black kittens on the black rug.... I let myself laugh.
The giggle ripples through my nose faster than I can stiffle it down, threathening to rouse the sleeping house.
The giggle rushes to the surface of my happy, otherwise so carefully collected, or at least collecting dust.
The giggle bubbles out of the tears I'd let fall if I'd just remembered to pack a tissue or two for this morning's journey.
In the peaking heartbeat drama as I open the door greeting stupid o'clock with my run... I allow myself peace.
Peace of mind that I made this happen, this piece of me, running free in the dark... intangable and incoherent in headlamp and spandex.
Peace of freedom in that drop of sweat that just fell, christening the earth that blesses me with both space and time, so sweet as to give me wings.
Peace of heaven that fell from the sky, perhaps restarting the beat of these blind girl runner feet.
And in every moment before the run...another reason for the next footfall.
Before the run...
In the quiet hushed moments of slumber before stupid o'clock rings on the alarm... I feel myself start to stir.
As if my soul knows it is about to tangle itself around the dirt in my shoes.
As if my third eye foresees the hill I've set out to run 5, 6, 7 + times soon.
As if acceptance isn't far behind and all of my being is saying.... “yes please”...
In the dark gentle miiliseconds of lost sleep after the shock of stupid o'clock.... I give myself hope.
It seeps into my bones like a caffeine drip, pushing my every go button.
It creeps through my veins like an inoculation against all things negative.
It crawls across my skin like the taste of forever on your lips.
In the anticipatory pause filled with steaming tea sipped by indiglo microwave numbers... I lose all fear.
It drips away from my neediness like honey on a spoon, slow and steady, making my hands sticky as it passes consciousness.
It oozes past my peripheral senses like neglected boogies on my sons cheek, reminding me of all I've forgotten.
It lingers briefly just past my reach as if tempting me one last time to re-embrace it with welcoming arms.
In the climatic seconds searching for my shoe in blackness, tripping over black kittens on the black rug.... I let myself laugh.
The giggle ripples through my nose faster than I can stiffle it down, threathening to rouse the sleeping house.
The giggle rushes to the surface of my happy, otherwise so carefully collected, or at least collecting dust.
The giggle bubbles out of the tears I'd let fall if I'd just remembered to pack a tissue or two for this morning's journey.
In the peaking heartbeat drama as I open the door greeting stupid o'clock with my run... I allow myself peace.
Peace of mind that I made this happen, this piece of me, running free in the dark... intangable and incoherent in headlamp and spandex.
Peace of freedom in that drop of sweat that just fell, christening the earth that blesses me with both space and time, so sweet as to give me wings.
Peace of heaven that fell from the sky, perhaps restarting the beat of these blind girl runner feet.
And in every moment before the run...another reason for the next footfall.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Lessons I learned on day 261
Dawn? no ... twilight? perhaps... Dark and quiet. Ponderous and still. Laying in the dark staring at the ceiling awaiting my alarm. Stupid o'clock calls again. I feel it in my bones, like an unrelenting itching that needs to be scratched. Patience, breathing, waiting, ... not my talent. This day, my day ... can't wait to devour it. No apologies there. This run, my run.... my second chance at this distance. Last week 29km 3:22:19. I have nothing to prove, and yet.... every day I have surprised myself. Every day I have proved myself wrong. So why not?
Not to be out done by time, my captor so complete, I turn off the pending alarm before it can ring. There is tea to drink, steaming in the dark, offering its warmth against the fear of night. There is oatmeal to eat, caressing all the emptiness inside craving attention. There is.... Oh hell I just had to pee ok? So up... I'm up.. And getting ready... 5degrees celsius... my coldest run. Long sleeves. Winter running gear is not sexy. Oh well, I'm only impressing the lamp posts and mailboxes at this hour anyway.
A text, my guide is sick. That is problematic. On two levels, as she is a dear dear friend and I want to pause the world and go take care of her, and ... uh... 29km is a tad scary. Tea to drink, fear isn't welcome here. I'm stubborn but not stupid and take the suggestion to wait an hour. So as not to fight off bears on the trail in the dark. After all, with no guide to feed them I'm screwed... All current 112lbs of me... This training takes more time to eat for than run for I swear. Just cover me in apple sauce and call me bear bait....
I try to sleep again. Dam patience. Not sleeping. Not moving. I decide to run the run in my head. Round that corner, through those poles I know mark the trail, but I can't see, stop wait listen to cross that road... No fear allowed. Dam patience.
Alarm goes off. I must have drifted off. Just past stupid o'clock now. And I'm gone. Hoping for 10km as my knee is not happy all the sudden. Packed for 29km though. Stubborn. Too used to making things happen for myself. Too used to pushing the limit.
Garmin free today as I will be getting used to that. Unless it starts raining garmins. But I know my route, know my markers, know my pot holes too.
Out into the world, sexy headlamp on and going. New shoes too, which I'm told are pink. This new me... Colourful. Who knew?
I think if 10km why not 13km? That works with my original route. Then I can decide. I get to the point of making decisions. I can't say no. I'm not dead, I'm not dying. I'm running. This me... always running. Onwards and forwards.
It occurs to me I wanted this. It occurs to me I'm going to have to say no to myself some day. That day will be the worst day of my life I think. Stubborn. Aggressive. It's not today. Keep going.
Headlamp off. Transition. Right here in these few moments before sun.... this is when I can see. Truly see. God's gift to me in these 20mins. I'm so thankful to be out in them. I see the rabbit cross the path, not just movement up ahead. I see the dew on the trees, the mist on the stream, not just feel them in the air. I think... oh crap... I think... I'd see the bear too.... Run girl run..
Ok first road... it's crazy early not much of a wait. By the end of this run I will have spent 9:14min waiting to cross roads. What a waste of time. Get out of your cars, embrace the breath in the air. You know not what you are missing. It's vibrant out here. It's karmic out here... Oh hell, at least let me cross.....?
The leaves on the ground remind me that time waits for no one. Again stuck in that. I love the idea of being here in this moment... Somewhere someday there is a high backed low chair waiting for me on the end of a dock. Somewhere someday there is stillness and contentment. Somewhere someday there is just me... and perhaps the mosquitoes. My uninvited guests.
There is still no one to share this trail, 16km in and not a soul. This sunrise masks itself in my selfish embrace. This bridge, forever laying in wait, seems present just for me... Specifically just to let go. There is no one here to watch me cry or hear my tedious sobs. This space, seems just.... in the right place.
Turning around is the hardest part of my long runs. Parts of me I don't understand scream no! KEEP GOING! Crevasses I haven't visited in my soul beg for continuance. Yet I can't seem to cross this bridge. It's the place I'm stuck, forged against the sky as much as in my better judgement. Last deep breath and a long sigh. Even if there is nothing else.... There is always me. That seems to bring comfort. Back home I head.
Pink shoes, serving me well. Jumped all the horse dung along the trail on the journey out. The memory of a blind girl, so distracted by life in its current state isn't as good as it should be... was that big pile at 18km or 22km? Left or right? Thankfully running into the wind. And my shoes are still just pink. There was some fancy foot work though. Why is there always crap along the path of a magical quest?
I reach this place, this place where I feel a push from behind. I can't pick up speed at 26km in a 29km run? Who does that? I'm not a fast runner, I'm not a strong runner. I'm a currently unguided solo blind runner on a trail that in the last 3km has become quite busy. Undeniable push. Unrequested shove. Unrelenting urge ...just to see (not see but find out)... could I go faster?
At 27km I pass a guy running with his dog. The dog has a stick in his mouth. Easily 5 - 6 feet long. The guy doesn't care. The dog.... happy to bring a piece of happiness along for the ride. Tells me no journey is worth taking alone. Bring happiness with you everywhere, with disdain for judgement on that. Smiles weigh nothing. Pack them.
At 28km I pass over a line drawn in the dirt. I look again... I says FINISH just below it. This makes me laugh out loud. I've run someone else's trail. I've run someone else's mile. You may be done gentle soul... But there is still another km to go for me. With every fiber of my being.... I AM NOT FINISHED YET.....
Lived to run another day. Lived to live another day. Lived to smile another day... in this my skin.
Today's run 29km solo trail run 3:14:46 ... Surprised myself again.
Day 261 of 365 days of running current total 1405.38km...
Not to be out done by time, my captor so complete, I turn off the pending alarm before it can ring. There is tea to drink, steaming in the dark, offering its warmth against the fear of night. There is oatmeal to eat, caressing all the emptiness inside craving attention. There is.... Oh hell I just had to pee ok? So up... I'm up.. And getting ready... 5degrees celsius... my coldest run. Long sleeves. Winter running gear is not sexy. Oh well, I'm only impressing the lamp posts and mailboxes at this hour anyway.
A text, my guide is sick. That is problematic. On two levels, as she is a dear dear friend and I want to pause the world and go take care of her, and ... uh... 29km is a tad scary. Tea to drink, fear isn't welcome here. I'm stubborn but not stupid and take the suggestion to wait an hour. So as not to fight off bears on the trail in the dark. After all, with no guide to feed them I'm screwed... All current 112lbs of me... This training takes more time to eat for than run for I swear. Just cover me in apple sauce and call me bear bait....
I try to sleep again. Dam patience. Not sleeping. Not moving. I decide to run the run in my head. Round that corner, through those poles I know mark the trail, but I can't see, stop wait listen to cross that road... No fear allowed. Dam patience.
Alarm goes off. I must have drifted off. Just past stupid o'clock now. And I'm gone. Hoping for 10km as my knee is not happy all the sudden. Packed for 29km though. Stubborn. Too used to making things happen for myself. Too used to pushing the limit.
Garmin free today as I will be getting used to that. Unless it starts raining garmins. But I know my route, know my markers, know my pot holes too.
Out into the world, sexy headlamp on and going. New shoes too, which I'm told are pink. This new me... Colourful. Who knew?
I think if 10km why not 13km? That works with my original route. Then I can decide. I get to the point of making decisions. I can't say no. I'm not dead, I'm not dying. I'm running. This me... always running. Onwards and forwards.
It occurs to me I wanted this. It occurs to me I'm going to have to say no to myself some day. That day will be the worst day of my life I think. Stubborn. Aggressive. It's not today. Keep going.
Headlamp off. Transition. Right here in these few moments before sun.... this is when I can see. Truly see. God's gift to me in these 20mins. I'm so thankful to be out in them. I see the rabbit cross the path, not just movement up ahead. I see the dew on the trees, the mist on the stream, not just feel them in the air. I think... oh crap... I think... I'd see the bear too.... Run girl run..
Ok first road... it's crazy early not much of a wait. By the end of this run I will have spent 9:14min waiting to cross roads. What a waste of time. Get out of your cars, embrace the breath in the air. You know not what you are missing. It's vibrant out here. It's karmic out here... Oh hell, at least let me cross.....?
The leaves on the ground remind me that time waits for no one. Again stuck in that. I love the idea of being here in this moment... Somewhere someday there is a high backed low chair waiting for me on the end of a dock. Somewhere someday there is stillness and contentment. Somewhere someday there is just me... and perhaps the mosquitoes. My uninvited guests.
There is still no one to share this trail, 16km in and not a soul. This sunrise masks itself in my selfish embrace. This bridge, forever laying in wait, seems present just for me... Specifically just to let go. There is no one here to watch me cry or hear my tedious sobs. This space, seems just.... in the right place.
Turning around is the hardest part of my long runs. Parts of me I don't understand scream no! KEEP GOING! Crevasses I haven't visited in my soul beg for continuance. Yet I can't seem to cross this bridge. It's the place I'm stuck, forged against the sky as much as in my better judgement. Last deep breath and a long sigh. Even if there is nothing else.... There is always me. That seems to bring comfort. Back home I head.
Pink shoes, serving me well. Jumped all the horse dung along the trail on the journey out. The memory of a blind girl, so distracted by life in its current state isn't as good as it should be... was that big pile at 18km or 22km? Left or right? Thankfully running into the wind. And my shoes are still just pink. There was some fancy foot work though. Why is there always crap along the path of a magical quest?
I reach this place, this place where I feel a push from behind. I can't pick up speed at 26km in a 29km run? Who does that? I'm not a fast runner, I'm not a strong runner. I'm a currently unguided solo blind runner on a trail that in the last 3km has become quite busy. Undeniable push. Unrequested shove. Unrelenting urge ...just to see (not see but find out)... could I go faster?
At 27km I pass a guy running with his dog. The dog has a stick in his mouth. Easily 5 - 6 feet long. The guy doesn't care. The dog.... happy to bring a piece of happiness along for the ride. Tells me no journey is worth taking alone. Bring happiness with you everywhere, with disdain for judgement on that. Smiles weigh nothing. Pack them.
At 28km I pass over a line drawn in the dirt. I look again... I says FINISH just below it. This makes me laugh out loud. I've run someone else's trail. I've run someone else's mile. You may be done gentle soul... But there is still another km to go for me. With every fiber of my being.... I AM NOT FINISHED YET.....
Lived to run another day. Lived to live another day. Lived to smile another day... in this my skin.
Today's run 29km solo trail run 3:14:46 ... Surprised myself again.
Day 261 of 365 days of running current total 1405.38km...
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
A day in the life....
Day 250... My first day home with the kids since school started. Their second day back. My littlest monsters meet the teacher day... my day.. a short story.
3:28am - monkey 3 gets up and goes tot he bathroom. Typical. Convince him to go back to bed with promises of his classroom and cake. After all it is day 250.
4:15am - alarm sounds. Stupid o'clock. Tea in the dark? no stamina... water and half a banana. Loaded my running bag with 2 sand bags.. 5 extra pounds. wish to goodness it would hold more, but then the water would have to be removed. Balance, all things in balance.
4:55am - exit the house (later to learn the door awakened monkey 3 who then persisted that it was morning. Typical) Got my super sexy headlamp on and headed in the abyss of potential violence and construction. To be honest I'm realy only afraid of garbage day. Blind girls nemesis... unforeseen obsticals.
5:01am. I see a bobbing light ahead... Must be a twin headlamp. Guide is still not well. I hear here long before I see her. Hills will be interesting for her. And we are off to find an conquer 7 mountain ridges. Ok in truth the darkness expands the city hills. We made it through. I still love that part when you realize you have forgotten you're carrying extra weight. Freeing and character building. Helps me focus.
5:45am - return home find monkey 3 up and wondering in the dark. Convince him to hit the hey for 15 much needed minutes. Lights on now and the Avery house is up. And cue chaos...
6:00am ... coffee? Lunch making, bag prep. Me sitting still. Rare.
6:30am monkeys 1 and 2 hit the floor... more like are sleepily shuffling towards the bathroom... which they then realize they are both headed to and take flight to a sprint. Battles ensue and time stands still.
7:15am - monkey 1 makes some off hand comment that her desk is beside 'the boy'.. my heart skips a beat. I ask Is this the year of the boys? she blushes. My heart nearly stops. I laugh. Part of this journey. I may not be ready. That doesn't seem to matter.
8:10am - monkeys 1 and 2 head off to school, monkey 3 is combing his hair for his teacher meeting. He's been doing this for an hour. It's still sticking up. Typical.
9:00am - we are at the school and monkey 3 can hardly contain his excitement through national anthems and prayers. I can see the pitter patter in his eyes. It's screaming set me free. Let me be. I wanna.
9:05am - sitting in the classroom. I feel like a giant. Miniature objects ... Plays with the blind girls mind. Depth perception be gone.
9:15am - my turn to talk. Yes my child is wonderful. yes he is smart. NO he can't sit still. Yes he will drive you crazy but you will smile every second. That's his job. That's his passion. Laughter. It's what his name means, youthful laughter. And then news of bad news to come. Yes we are in transition. Yes this will be difficult. No this is not the way I wanted things to go. Yes we will work together. I'm feeling like I'm starting to shrink.
9:45am - walmart. Monkey 3 needs a waterbottle. ends up getting a cars thermos and sandwich containers. Monkey three. walking like a big boy. Seeing over the counter. Breaking my heart. Making me smile. Testing me every second.
10:00am - ymca. Monkey 3 into a craft drop in. Time for a swim. Blind girl can't see the clock in the water. I hate not knowing when I need to be done. Swim faster swim faster... choke choke sputter. 1500m done 42 mins. This day was suppose to have a bike in it too. Oh well.
11;)2am - pick up excited monkey 3 who is so proud of crafts and telling the story of them a mile a minute. I keep thinking who needs tv when you have this wonderful bee in your ear?
12:00pm - nap refusal. Typical. News of my mother coming down with cake. After all it is day 250.
2:30pm - mother drops in with muffins. celebrations ensue. Talk of things to come. Comfort there? Not sure. Can't change the snow ball once it starts. Just watching it roll. Praying every turn.
3:55pm - monkey 1 and 2 reappear. Bags and hats and paper I can't read. News and yard tales. OH the noise noise noise... I smile. I laugh.. I think is there any other way? I've lost my floor. Snacks, muffins of course after all it is day 250!
4:30pm - dinner is cooking. Realising as it does I forgot to eat lunch. This isn't good. Sunday is 29km ... I add more pasta to the pot. Take care of me to take care of them. Little steps. Balance focus. Smile.
4:55pm - that moment when you have the last chance to save dinner from overflowing or burning or whatever. Running times times with monkey 2. Trying to stump him. Impossible. Nothing will stop this child. He will save the world. I'm given homework from monkey 1 (for me to do)... in a million words or less describe your child. Ok I can do that. Dinner.. Balance. Monkey 3 wanting ... wanting.... me? let it boil over. Smile laugh live.
5:04pm - sad dinner on table. happy kids in the chairs. Monkey 3 protesting. Typical. Monkey 1 bought out a health pamphlet on changes in puberty. Should I throw this out? it's from last year. I looked at her and said... are you done changing? Where is your desk again? she blushes... MOM!!!!... oh no... boobs, boys, and pads oh my!... she flees the room in giggles. I notice she keeps the flyer. Smile again. She knows we can talk. Hope she holds that thought through the I hate mom phase I know is coming. I feel it like the blister I'm going to get sunday. Sunday... long run... eat more.
6:00pm - table cleared, kids reading... time to ... what? sit and enjoy the air. Laugh at the monkey 2's jokes of the day. listen to stories of other kids not washing their hands post bathroom trips at school. say silent prays mine do. Hand out vitamin c just in case. Laugh some more. This is life. Laugh some more
7:00pm - monkey 3's lack of nap has caught up. The entire neighbourhood knows it. Breathing and helping. distracting and moving through the last moments before bedtime routine. Song comes on the radio ... monkey 2 says how can jesus put you on hold? monkey 1 replies sometimes you have to wait for your prayers to be answered. My heart ... my heart... the things they know. The things I need to learn. The things I'm so afraid of.
7:19pm - monkey 3 finds a spot on the floor and starts to snooze. I've turned my head.. two minutes too long. tickle fights ensue typical... smile chaos... would be find but he has gas from too much raw veggies and is farting from the laughing... we are dying... we are all laughing.. I am crying.. They don't know. Smile...smile girl. One day at a time. One lesson at a time.
My heart stands still waiting for whats to come. Waiting and hoping I know what I'm doing.
7:45pm - monkey kisses... monkey 1 reluctantly gives kisses but we follow tradition and make ewwww gross faces after.. He's not a kisser.. I tell him wait for it. It will come. Some day you'll find that person. That one that makes your world stop spinning. Then things will change. Smile... time stands still for no one. Not even a hopeful thankful blind mother of three....
good night my babies, good night my monkeys... sleep sleep I will miss this you tomorrow... sleep sleep grow and learn. Sleep sleep you are my heros....sleep sleep I love you.
day 250... a day in the life of... this life
3:28am - monkey 3 gets up and goes tot he bathroom. Typical. Convince him to go back to bed with promises of his classroom and cake. After all it is day 250.
4:15am - alarm sounds. Stupid o'clock. Tea in the dark? no stamina... water and half a banana. Loaded my running bag with 2 sand bags.. 5 extra pounds. wish to goodness it would hold more, but then the water would have to be removed. Balance, all things in balance.
4:55am - exit the house (later to learn the door awakened monkey 3 who then persisted that it was morning. Typical) Got my super sexy headlamp on and headed in the abyss of potential violence and construction. To be honest I'm realy only afraid of garbage day. Blind girls nemesis... unforeseen obsticals.
5:01am. I see a bobbing light ahead... Must be a twin headlamp. Guide is still not well. I hear here long before I see her. Hills will be interesting for her. And we are off to find an conquer 7 mountain ridges. Ok in truth the darkness expands the city hills. We made it through. I still love that part when you realize you have forgotten you're carrying extra weight. Freeing and character building. Helps me focus.
5:45am - return home find monkey 3 up and wondering in the dark. Convince him to hit the hey for 15 much needed minutes. Lights on now and the Avery house is up. And cue chaos...
6:00am ... coffee? Lunch making, bag prep. Me sitting still. Rare.
6:30am monkeys 1 and 2 hit the floor... more like are sleepily shuffling towards the bathroom... which they then realize they are both headed to and take flight to a sprint. Battles ensue and time stands still.
7:15am - monkey 1 makes some off hand comment that her desk is beside 'the boy'.. my heart skips a beat. I ask Is this the year of the boys? she blushes. My heart nearly stops. I laugh. Part of this journey. I may not be ready. That doesn't seem to matter.
8:10am - monkeys 1 and 2 head off to school, monkey 3 is combing his hair for his teacher meeting. He's been doing this for an hour. It's still sticking up. Typical.
9:00am - we are at the school and monkey 3 can hardly contain his excitement through national anthems and prayers. I can see the pitter patter in his eyes. It's screaming set me free. Let me be. I wanna.
9:05am - sitting in the classroom. I feel like a giant. Miniature objects ... Plays with the blind girls mind. Depth perception be gone.
9:15am - my turn to talk. Yes my child is wonderful. yes he is smart. NO he can't sit still. Yes he will drive you crazy but you will smile every second. That's his job. That's his passion. Laughter. It's what his name means, youthful laughter. And then news of bad news to come. Yes we are in transition. Yes this will be difficult. No this is not the way I wanted things to go. Yes we will work together. I'm feeling like I'm starting to shrink.
9:45am - walmart. Monkey 3 needs a waterbottle. ends up getting a cars thermos and sandwich containers. Monkey three. walking like a big boy. Seeing over the counter. Breaking my heart. Making me smile. Testing me every second.
10:00am - ymca. Monkey 3 into a craft drop in. Time for a swim. Blind girl can't see the clock in the water. I hate not knowing when I need to be done. Swim faster swim faster... choke choke sputter. 1500m done 42 mins. This day was suppose to have a bike in it too. Oh well.
11;)2am - pick up excited monkey 3 who is so proud of crafts and telling the story of them a mile a minute. I keep thinking who needs tv when you have this wonderful bee in your ear?
12:00pm - nap refusal. Typical. News of my mother coming down with cake. After all it is day 250.
2:30pm - mother drops in with muffins. celebrations ensue. Talk of things to come. Comfort there? Not sure. Can't change the snow ball once it starts. Just watching it roll. Praying every turn.
3:55pm - monkey 1 and 2 reappear. Bags and hats and paper I can't read. News and yard tales. OH the noise noise noise... I smile. I laugh.. I think is there any other way? I've lost my floor. Snacks, muffins of course after all it is day 250!
4:30pm - dinner is cooking. Realising as it does I forgot to eat lunch. This isn't good. Sunday is 29km ... I add more pasta to the pot. Take care of me to take care of them. Little steps. Balance focus. Smile.
4:55pm - that moment when you have the last chance to save dinner from overflowing or burning or whatever. Running times times with monkey 2. Trying to stump him. Impossible. Nothing will stop this child. He will save the world. I'm given homework from monkey 1 (for me to do)... in a million words or less describe your child. Ok I can do that. Dinner.. Balance. Monkey 3 wanting ... wanting.... me? let it boil over. Smile laugh live.
5:04pm - sad dinner on table. happy kids in the chairs. Monkey 3 protesting. Typical. Monkey 1 bought out a health pamphlet on changes in puberty. Should I throw this out? it's from last year. I looked at her and said... are you done changing? Where is your desk again? she blushes... MOM!!!!... oh no... boobs, boys, and pads oh my!... she flees the room in giggles. I notice she keeps the flyer. Smile again. She knows we can talk. Hope she holds that thought through the I hate mom phase I know is coming. I feel it like the blister I'm going to get sunday. Sunday... long run... eat more.
6:00pm - table cleared, kids reading... time to ... what? sit and enjoy the air. Laugh at the monkey 2's jokes of the day. listen to stories of other kids not washing their hands post bathroom trips at school. say silent prays mine do. Hand out vitamin c just in case. Laugh some more. This is life. Laugh some more
7:00pm - monkey 3's lack of nap has caught up. The entire neighbourhood knows it. Breathing and helping. distracting and moving through the last moments before bedtime routine. Song comes on the radio ... monkey 2 says how can jesus put you on hold? monkey 1 replies sometimes you have to wait for your prayers to be answered. My heart ... my heart... the things they know. The things I need to learn. The things I'm so afraid of.
7:19pm - monkey 3 finds a spot on the floor and starts to snooze. I've turned my head.. two minutes too long. tickle fights ensue typical... smile chaos... would be find but he has gas from too much raw veggies and is farting from the laughing... we are dying... we are all laughing.. I am crying.. They don't know. Smile...smile girl. One day at a time. One lesson at a time.
My heart stands still waiting for whats to come. Waiting and hoping I know what I'm doing.
7:45pm - monkey kisses... monkey 1 reluctantly gives kisses but we follow tradition and make ewwww gross faces after.. He's not a kisser.. I tell him wait for it. It will come. Some day you'll find that person. That one that makes your world stop spinning. Then things will change. Smile... time stands still for no one. Not even a hopeful thankful blind mother of three....
good night my babies, good night my monkeys... sleep sleep I will miss this you tomorrow... sleep sleep grow and learn. Sleep sleep you are my heros....sleep sleep I love you.
day 250... a day in the life of... this life
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