The Past, The Future, and Now

Every once in a while I find photos, like this one, which place me on the timeline of changes. This was not so long ago, and Dad was holding his own, if barely. Sometimes I feel like the only one who holds their secrets, and even I was never as inside as I thought. Dad took a lot to the grave, I think. And Mom, post-stroke, cannot tell me much anymore. It's all locked in her eyes.

I don't know how long this will go on. Today she sounded tired, frail and sad. I could barely keep her on the phone. Her confusion is mounting. Yet she lives. How does my tiny mother keep going?

I compare all this to the marathon, and everything which comes after mile 18. By the time I was 3-4 miles out from the finish line I never thought I'd make it. Runners passing me, time- and the whole world- passing me by. But I never really entertained quitting; I just realized I'd have to suck up the chance that I'd be ridiculously slow. Now I feel the same way. The big constant push, up to the end game, is over. The last leg of the journey of my parents, as my mother tries to find her way through this to her own resolution, is upon us. And for the first time in over 10 years I begin to speculate on life after.

Is it wrong to feel relief? I do. If the big goals comes together there is a whole new life waiting for me around that corner. The race of endurance could give way to the smorgasbord of possibility; where to run, what to do, how to live a life on my own terms with my own 'mission' and happiness in mind....it has been such a long haul. But every run I am out there, like today, for a substantial time is practice for endurance, mental fortitude, building the reserves I need. I have learned, from running, just how strong I can be, if I focus my mind on the task. The energy all around us is in full throttle- we can tap this, we can allow it to take us up to the next level, and find our True Life waiting.

Resiliance, and oh yea, New Shoe Review

I have been an Asics fan, then Brooks, now I think I found 'the one'....LOL...(I always say that)...Under Armour ....'Spectre'? Not sure the type, but check out the photo. They use a "foot sleeve" instead of a tongue. The overall construction looks like a racing flat....but with more. At first I thought they were a bit stiff, but after a week of shorter and longer runs, I think I have fallen in love. Today, a big Griffin loop (taking the overpass and cutting up to Stirling next to 95) about 10...felt almost 'normal'...meaning, no big breaks, no big pain, no big tanking out. No hydration belt but enough watering holes out there, spaced along the route, with electrolyte pills to beat the impact of the heat. I am definitely acclimated, and I feel renewed confidence that I can keep a good base, get past the class, and focus on the big miles closer to fall. Maybe I can do it after all....

The brush of the down swing, enough to scare me, lifts with good runs. Seems simplistic, but true. My confidence in navigating the sheer challenge of a long run spills over into everything. The resilience comes back...the momentum begins. Nothing seems impossible if I keep one foot moving in front of the other, and find my stride. With time, goals are accomplished. It can be done. It is all a matter of consistent effort and time.

And if you think the right shoes dont matter, find ones that 'lift' you from the doldrums and take off down the road. Your spirit will soar and the world will transform before your eyes into infinite possibilities.

Vision Vs. Reality

That's the girl I imagine....had I been running instead of wandering the back trails of my suburban neighborhood growing up...had I run instead of biking to high school, to see my friends on those forbidding but free dark nights....had I been running instead of trekking the hills of southern New England, Virginia, the mountains and trails of the Appalachian, the verdant Valley, the back roads from the Barn...

I forget the summer is sometimes my 'high-risk' time....not winters, which are no longer predictable, except for fighting through the holiday slog. Florida brought me respite from winter episodes. But now I remember, don't underestimate summer. With the need for A/C which keeps me cooped up, in the office, the apartment, the stores, the gym....out running is the only prolonged escape into real air. But in order to survive it I have to run around dawn. And even then, it's oppressive and challenging.

I would like to find a way to engage those necessary gym bouts on the treadmill. I've been using those runs to drill on the incline, check my form etc. But I can't get any big miles that way; it's just too tough on that track. On the road I engage many more muscles and senses, and I'm sure its why a longer run is possible.

I would like to find a way to engage the summer without falling off the edge of the earth, taking my will to reach out with me as my voice shrivels in the hot sun. I need to remember that everything happening is part of good process; mom is settling out, the services for her underway. Work is supporting all my efforts to maintain these many fronts. The massage/chiro treatment is providing relief. The NSU class starts very soon.

Without the consistency of running, I can't get my bearings. I know this is a flaw- it mustn't take this mental compulsion, but it does. There is no substitute, there are no replacements. Not now. If I can't find the groove to ground myself, out there on the road, in the middle of nowhere special with nothing on my mind, if I can't find the way to lift myself outside of my petty personal cares, then they weigh around my neck like so many balls of fury...the loss of control, of personal touch, of comforts...I must outrun them if I can. If I can't they are like little ants marching over me. Seems harmless until an army of them overtake me. My voice. They leave me in loneliness and disconnect the cord. The solitude of the run is the antidote, at least for now.

Running in Rain and New Shoes

My new shoes, Under Armour's, were waiting for me last night when I got home from work. An experiment in brand switching, I've gone from Asics to Brooks...with some research, I liked what I read about UAs type of fit- the ad video was done by an triathlete, uberrunner who worked with them to engineer the shoe. I was determined, no matter what the weather, to try them out today.

And yes, it wasn't raining to begin with. The weird stiffness of a new pair of shoes was offset by their structure. Snug where I need it, my hopes were high as I headed up Park to make my usual Griffin loop. The rain began before I made it to my first stop at Publix, but not heavy enough to cause delay. I don't mind rain running as long as it's not too chill...so back out, heading west, it was cloudy, drizzly, but I made the turn at 40th and still going strong.

As I flew out to the bottom of the Stirling intersection, I managed to duck under a garage overhang just in time as a massive storm broke open buckets of rain, lightening and thunder. Not good stuff to be caught out in, so I cooled my heels, did a few stretches, and waited...avoiding the wind, wandering through thoughts of mom, the upcoming class, the weekend, what I might wear for the marathon, where to place my long runs in a schedule that feels increasingly squeezed....and telling myself it will all happen in due time. As the rain let up, I decided to move out, throwing my sweat towel over my head and trying to enjoy the rain as a cool-off...by the time I hit Emerald Hills road, I felt pretty loose and was enjoying the shoes...I hit a nice rhythm through puddled roads and appreciated the sweep of my own feet through the heavy, wet air. Rainy runs are emotional, evocative. They bring melancholia to mind; but despite all this, somewhere close to the turn out towards Park, I felt a lift, an exhilaration as the movement took me over and the beauty of the run, with its own character and challenge moved within me.

The engine of awareness is what supports the run; the effort to engage, enjoy and accomplish the goal. I'm glad I became a runner and stuck it out. I hear others say "I'm not running now" or how they don't believe its good for them etc....I know all the research and heard all the arguments. I don't run to be politically correct. I crave the excitement that only a good trek/adventure/expedition into the neighborhood can give me to lighten and sort myself out, to give my body a chance to move to its own speed and rhythm, to write the script of my own inner life.

And when I make it home, I know my day will not be as difficult; I can maintain through anything if I can make it through that storm.

All Things Must Pass Away...

Yes, I've been watching non-stop news and music videos on BET, MTV, VH1, MSNBC; I admit I am a news junkie. I needed to immerse myself in all things Michael Jackson as I took a walk down the memory lane of my early adulthood. Dancing in CeeCee and Rick's living room while Richard played DJ, to Thriller, to every amazing MJ song we had between us, living large in our souls, feeling the ecstasy of pure connection through the music, the movement, the heart. The all night parties at Bennington, where R&B was the music of preference, and I learned to love all the artists of soul. Finding my own rhythm, my own courage on the heels of artists who had the courage to live large, find their voice, give us the vision....

So when I woke up this morning, I knew I hadn't slept enough, but I needed to run anyway. Brutal heat was on its way, but at sunrise, the last wisps of coolness still hug the roadways, and I soaked it all up on my way up the overpass heading north to cut to Stirling, Angler's Ave to Publix. It was a quiet and slow stretch..I was still stuck in my head, half dreaming....

The middle slog over Griffin and down 40th was tougher, as I got hot, tired and struggled to find a good gait. But somehow, even after a brief walk break coming up to the 56th Ave. intersection at Sheridan, I began to settle down. Hydrating at Anderson Park, I headed east, picking up Park for the long straight open stretch that allows me to leave the thinking behind....and that was when I found the peace I craved...the space that opened up as my legs began to find a rhythm, stopped protesting, carried my heart so it could expand on the morning air. I know the moment comes upon us without control; the beginning, the end, the grace of unexpected miracles or tragedies. Who can predict the impact our triumphs or follies will have on the rest of the world? I honor the Teachers who came to tell us to remember how to go on, with or without permission, a straight road, team support. Who blaze their solitary trails channeling the Voice of Love, our connection, reverberations like pebbles in open water, expanding in circles beyond us....

I loved how MJ was on everyone's mind (well mostly)....and the music was pouring from radios...it was streaming out of mine. They are moving on ahead, waiting to be called on for inspiration as those of us who stay behind hold them in our hearts. Thank- you Michael, for showing me how to dance, find my groove, and persevere in the face of destruction to my own redemption. You will be remembered. You will be loved.

Where is my Chi?

There are places in my body hurting which never bothered me before. I roll over in bed like an old woman. I tried to run the Griffin loop today and ended up walking most of the last few miles. It felt as if loose parts had fused around my lower back, legs; can my heart be this heavy inside me?

I figured running at all was probably heroic. When I walked I tried to let things loosen up, and found it strangely unnerving, as if walking was not my normal form of motion. My body kept wanting to speed up, but anytime I did, my feet felt stuck in quicksand. This is not marathon training. This is salvage running- doing anything to salvage a bit of mileage out of a workout. Sad times, sad little run.

The anger and rage that has nowhere to go is depleting what little energy reserves I might have had. I am not, on some level, reconciled to events. I cannot bail on anything. And yet so many are bailing out on me. The concept of injustice in life is high-order adjustment issues. We must be willing to accept that 'life is not fair' to be able to take our lot on. I tried thinking about the girls held in N. Korea. About Tibetans and Tienanmen square protesters...any one fighting for their lives and freedom who did not choose their lot. Where do we find courage when we feel all alone?

I imagined, as I tried to fall asleep last night, that I crawled into Great Mother's lap. Her huge arms were open wide to receive me. She was waiting for me. I wasn't sure I would manage to climb up into her landscape of a lap- or once there, if I'd ever find my way out. But the thought that the Universe was somehow there to receive me was comforting. Sometimes, beyond a single person, the heart resides in the Force of Life itself. It is strangely easier to tap this than to find the resonance in person. I know you are there. Somewhere. Please, let me know I am loved.

Long Goodbyes

It's feeling impossible to get any kind of rhythm back to running. One day seems ok. Another and my feet are full of lead. The heaviness in my heart has outweighed the fortitude of my commitment to train, and I'm trying to be alright with that, give myself time, give it time to settle.

My Dad would want me to persevere. As CeeCee said, he was always in his own way my biggest supporter, believing in my strange (to him) inclinations, aspirations and qualities that, like him, kept me on my path even when I wanted to quit.

I can't believe still he has left us behind. In the race that is life, I hope and pray he prepares the way; my Mom is not far behind. And I, left with my love, will hold the vision always of his best self.

Love you, Dad. Please, rest in peace. We got it.