You may remember me telling you that I was given Eat, Pray, Love for my 42nd birthday.  I launched into the reading shortly after receiving it, and found the book good company on cold winter nights.  As is usually the case, my reading efforts fell away and the book was added to the pile beside my bed (unfinished). 

Now the book has remained buried within the stack of books.  The story, however, and I were reunited with the help of books on tape.  Even at the age of 42 years old, I enjoy having a book read to me.  Is there any better way to ease the stress of a long commute? 

This evening, after sitting for 10 minutes in the grocery store parking lot, I finished the book.  Afterwards, I went inside the store for a bottle of wine, dinner for my petite family, and a package of vanilla skinny cow ice cream sandwiches.

The juxtaposition of my finishing the book with my purchase of a bottle of wine & ice cream is only a coincidence.  Well, almost...

In truth, I came across Runner Susan's blog post at the end of a truly energy sucking day.  Not only was the wine gorgeous in her photo, recommended by the famed blogger, but also reasonably priced.  I took note of the name and hit the road for home.

As the 2nd half-glass goes down, my perspective of my know-it-all co-worker, whom I flipped off through my office wall several times today, is being redefined.  The thing is, she does know a lot, and I really could learn a lot from her. 

As for the ending of the book:  Liz ends her story with the Italian term "attraversiamo," which means to cross over.  For her, crossing over is a beautiful thing.  I however, can only think of Tom crossing over. 

While while I hear that heaven is a most beautiful place, no amount of wine will take the sting out of losing him.  I will, therefore, stop drinking right after I finish this 2nd half-glass. 

I may also give some Balinese meditation a try.  The way that it was described sounds simple enough,

"To meditate, only your must smile.  Smile with face, smile with mind, and good energy will com to your and clean away the dirty energy.  Even smile in your liver." 

It couldn't hurt to try.  Right?  Perhaps it will help me to attraversiamo without going to Italy, India, and Indonesia.

Posted by Juls at 7:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

It was a conscious decision to leave my workout bag in the car Friday morning.  I was sick of tripping over the bag in my office each day and never getting the chance to pick it up until the day's end.  Day in and day out, the bag would simple get moved from place to place, but the contents were never removed.  I wasn't going to do that again.  If the opportunity presented itself for a run, I'd have to go fetch my bag. 

A few hours later, I was on the phone with Simone at Team In Training (TNT).  Like magic, as soon as I signed the dotted line, I was moved to start making changes.  At lunchtime, I *did* retrieve my bag for a little hill work (aka humility run). 

My mind was filled with thoughts about the training season that will not be "kicked off" until May 31st.  Still, I had reason to be motivated; I needed to quickly rebuild my base and get back up to speed.  Yes, already the pressure was starting (self inflicted of course).  I want to be placed in the FAST training group so that I will always be pushed towards my best. 

And with the (self inflicted) pressure on, I ran Thursday, Friday and Saturday.  I nearly ran today but my body thought otherwise; my shins were a little tender during my Saturday run.  Instead of running, I cleaned out YaYa's closet as well as the shed, I did a few loads of laundry, and moved some furniture around. 

My final task was to restock my bag with clean running apparel for tomorrow's run.

* A special thanks to those of you who have helped to kick of my 1st TNT experience by donating.  You are the best!

Posted by Juls at 8:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

After driving past the local Catholic church, I begin to think about the process of confession.  I have heard that they call it "reconciliation" these days.  I have also heard that some churches don't even use the screens anymore.  What's up with that?! 

I don't know if I could handle watching the priest's face as I list off my bad choices in life.  I have found much comfort hiding behind the safety screen.  Without the screen, I would have to have an invisible priest so that I could not see the reaction on his face when I spoke.  Better yet, I would like an imaginary priest who could take my confession right now.

If that was possible, what I would say?  Of course I would begin in the usual way.  Well, I'm not really sure if it is the "usual" way anymore.  It seems that a lot has changed over the years.  Regardless, I would begin like this:

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned." 

"It has been...MANY years since my last confession." *deep breath*

Okay, now is the part where I am to list my sins.  I think hard.  Surely in 15-20 years there ought to be quite a list of sins to confess.  But my list is short. 

"I failed to recognize cancer in my husband until it was too late."

"I sometimes have angry thoughts towards myself and others."

"I surf the Internet on work time."

"I am less patient with others [such as the IDIOT driver ahead of me]."

This is where my list ends. 

I remember being a little girl and waiting for my turn in the little closet sized room.  In my head I would go through my list of "sins" that I had committed in the prior days.  I used to be able to come up with a minimum of 3 things back then.  That was only in a week's time.  Of course, it always seemed to be the same list.  Perhaps saying X number of Our Fathers and X number of Hail Mary's wasn't doing the trick.  More likely, it was my list of sins.

"I jumped on the bed when my mother told me not to."

"I hit my brother...but he hit me first."

"I licked the frosting off of Big Sis' birthday cake and then lied about it."

Perhaps they weren't really "sins" at all.

Today, my imaginary priest is left perplexed.  He is thinking that in this amount of life much more damage should have occurred.  I agree.  I am far from perfect. 

I think for a minute, and then said, "No.  That is all."

Sure, there were things that needed to be considered and evaluated.  In the end, I brushed them off as not being sins at all.  *sigh* It is time to get up with times.  Gone are the days of making up your list of sins.

My priest instructed me to pray one round of the rosary.  [I think that I remember how to do that properly.]

Posted by Juls at 11:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

My writing time has shriveled away to nothing this week.  I don't know where my free time has gone.  Actually, I *do* know where it went, and it was good. 

First, my widow friends and our off-spring had a great evening at Chuck E. Cheese.  They played and we sat around and talked about all sorts of things.  At one point, the topic got pretty emotional.  I laughed and said that our counselor would soon be forbidding us to get together on our own. That lightened things up a bit.

Also this week, we spent an evening at Cindy's house.  We met her parents, who have been visiting from Canada.  They are just as nice as her, which is no surprise at all.  Cindy cooked up a wonderful dinner and we enjoyed a couple of bottles of wine (one better than the other).

Life is quite a balancing act.  The challenge is to find just the right balance between family, friends, work, running, writing, and whatever else lands on your plate.  Of course a good bottle of red wine sure helps too.

There is more balancing ahead of me as I take on a new commitment.  It will be tricky but I'll manage.  I always do.

Posted by Juls at 9:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I was homeward bound and again contemplating my post-work fate. YaYa was at soccer practice so I had the luxury of an extra 1 ½ hours to play with. I was torn between going for a run and getting some neglected chores checked off. I could not shake free from the image of the empty container of dog food. There was dinner too. Although little mis-categorized, I also had the chore of getting another bra or two.

It has been a long time since my breast biopsy. Since the surgery, I have had two bras to choose from. Because of a long lasting incisional tenderness, neither of these two bras has an under-wire. I should add that my body has been subjected to 42 years of gravitational pull. Need I say more? It was time to put everything back in place again.

And so my run had to wait. I figured that I would get it done in due time.

So, from the humility of the dressing room mirrors to the pet store I went. I arrived home with 50 pounds of dog food with just enough time to get dinner started and walk the beasts before YaYa arrived home. Of course he still had his homework to complete and darkness was already upon us. I tried not to kick myself for letting my run opportunity pass me up.

And then I created a new plan,
a revised plan,
and a good plan.

After dinner, we packed up YaYa’s school work and went to the gym, where YaYa completed his homework, and I ran on the treadmill.

Posted by Juls at 10:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I wrote a post earlier today, saved it for further edit, and then deleted when I finally sat back down at my computer. In effect, the earlier post said what I had intended to share with you, but the raw words seemed too harsh to work with. And so, I start again. Let's see what happens this time...

It isn't that I don't feel like running. More accurately, I often don't feel like going through the effort of making it happen. By this I mean to say that I don't want to fight with YaYa about riding his bike along side of me, or trouble someone else to watch him. I also don't feel like working later because I actually left my desk at lunchtime. It's that sort of effort that I would rather, well, avoid.

This is very different from the old me. That ME "needed" to run. If I wasn't able to run, I had trouble coping. I don't know what the big deal was. I look back on the stressors of my past, and I am amazed to think how hard that was for me. It all seems so trivial now. The thing is, *that* ME is gone. Out of necessity, I have evolved into a being that has found other ways to cope with the stress that life lends. Since I no longer "need" to run, I often am not willing to inconvenience myself (or others) in order to make it happen.

But, as you can see by my sidebar, waiting for it to happen isn't exactly working either. *sigh* I am getting out, and when I do I enjoy it. Okay, sometimes I find it hard physically but I still enjoy setting a goal and achieving it. Now, I would like for running experiences to be more often, farther, faster, AND easier. I'll have to find a compromise between waiting for the stars to align and forcing it upon myself. There is a happy medium, and it is up to me to find it.

Posted by Juls at 2:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I let the day pass without giving Patriot's Day a single thought.  In the evening, I turned on the TV to select the digital video recording (DVR) of the race coverage among a collection of children's shows. 

As my dinner cooked, I sat on the couch and watched the 112th Boston Marathon.  It was a great thing to have avoided all mention of the outcome.  In this case, ignorance is bliss.

My dinner was ready around the time of the final push towards the finish.  I cheered wildly as the two women leaders approached the finish line neck in neck.  YaYa looked over at me and laughed.  The dogs got all riled up too.  I may have been a little over enthusiastic.   

It is so nice to have full TV coverage of the race rather than the quick little blurb in the evening news.  While I was happy to watch, I was also saddened to not be enjoying it first hand.  I think that it reasonable to strive towards joining the crowd for the 115th running.  That's when I'll move up an age group.  Something good has to come of getting old.

Posted by Juls at 9:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

YaYa saw my eyes welling up with tears.  He scooted over, put his arm around me, and began to gently pat my back.  It is so sweet of him to watch out for me like this.  Still, I wonder if he takes on too much responsibility in doing so.  In this case, his action was unnecessary. 

My tears were tears of hope.  As I listened to the Eucharistic Prayer being read, I was overwhelmed with emotion.  Jesus loves me.  He loves YaYa and BoBo too.  All at once, my sins are forgiven and I am healed. 

As I kneel to pray, my tongue worked the wafer free from the roof of my mouth.  My heart felt full, and my cheeks moist.  I wipe away the tears with the sleeve of my sweater before YaYa sees them.  I appreciate his attentiveness, but he is only a boy.  He should be allowed to be just that.

I look around me at the families.  I watch the little ones squirm in the pews and listen to the high pitch squeals coming from the wee ones.  Of the two Catholic Churches that we have visited, the families are what draws me to this one more than the other.  YaYa likes that they have donuts (although we have yet to find where they are served). 

YaYa has also noticed that the mass here is a bit longer.  It seems that he is not the only one.  I smile as a toddler boy tugs on his mother's arm, pulling her towards the exit.  Reluctantly, she leaves with him.  I wonder if we will see them again today. 

I think back to my own youth.  It seemed that all eyes were upon me back then.  No matter how hard I tried, I could not hold still or stay quiet for the full mass.  Now, I experience the scene as the onlooker instead of the child. 

In the pew ahead of me a little girl feeds her baby doll and her sister draws in a book.  A baby begins to cry, but the mass continues.  The baby stops crying as we all stand to sing.  It is the final song. 

I pat YaYa on his back, and we get in line to thank the priest.  Mass has ended; we go in peace.  And I am full of hope again.

Posted by Juls at 9:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I'm here at YaYa's soccer game, frozen from the chilly wind, and disinterested as a wave of unfairness hits me. Fathers (aka Husbands) surround me on the soccer field. They exchange high-fives as they block my view, until I lose interest all together.

Fortunately, I look up just on time to see YaYa dribbling straight towards the goal. He shoots and SCORES. My son, that is! Now, it is my turn to receive the high-five.

My interest in the game is returning...somewhat. 

Posted by Juls at 9:40 AM | Permalink

I am home from work, and glad that the work week has finally come to an end.  This week has been so exhausting.  I could go into a rant about that, but it wouldn't do any good.  Work is called "work" for a reason. Still, I am somewhat discouraged at not having accomplished much more than just get through my work days. 

Running wise, I have only ran once since last weekend.  Once home, any consideration to go for a run is pushed aside, either by responsibilities or lack of motivation.  I can't believe that it has come to the point where I need to force myself to run. 

Running used to so much a part of me where everything that I did seemed to revolve around running.  I would go stir-crazy if I went more than a day without running.  Unfortunately, my days of running obsession appear to be behind me.

In my prior state, a case of the running blahs was easily fixed by registering for an "A race" that would still push me.  I wonder if that would work for me now.  I've spotted a local 25K that I know I would enjoy running - that is IF I train properly for it.  It's less than a month away.  Here's the dilemma: I'd hate to fork out the cash only to find out that I still can't get up and running.  On the other hand, I'd hate to train only to find out that the race filled up.  Oh, what to do.

Posted by Juls at 6:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

My “group” and I have been trying to organize a night out together. We thought it would be nice to get together on our own terms. We could talk about our losses, or NOT. I wouldn’t matter. The point was that we would just be able to enjoy and build upon the friendships that we have developed over the past months together. I am not sure which one of us first coined the phrase "Widowed Moms' Night Out" (WMNO), but it was ever so fitting for the task at hand.

It seems like we've been trying to plan our evening out for an endless period of time. Tonight, we were finally able to enjoy our get together. The six of us, along with our thirteen children, made an intimidating group of nineteen. Fortunately for us, our waiter was a well organized and easy-going guy. Fortunately for him, we were just as easy going, and well-behaved, I might add. This is how the table looked after our "group" had enjoyed our dinner. Take it from me; this was one meal that we were all happy to have a break from clean up duty.

Eventually, we *will* succeed in getting out on our own, however tonight we were satisfied to all have kids in tow. That in and of itself was a grand accomplishment - at least it was for me.

Being able to have a social even with my group of friends was a pretty big deal for me. It seems that it is ever more difficult to get out for events such as these. Something always seems to get in the way. Today was no different from the rest. It was one of those days when time just kept slipping away. Computer issues sucked up my morning and left me stressed about leaving early for my "group" meeting. I was determined that I would not miss out on our special plans for the night. As long as I made it out the door on time, I would tolerate my lunch of instant oatmeal and strawberries. At the end of the day, I was printing and faxing like a banshee. I am glad that I was able to make it happen.

Posted by Juls at 9:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

Today is “tax day.” Although I am due a refund, I still had issues with getting my documents in to the post office. The printer being out of white paper, and not having stamps were just a few of the little issues that popped up for me. I knew that these were not show stoppers by any means. It hit the line up of cars at the post office yesterday afternoon. With the crowds present, I thought that there should have been red, white, and blue balloons up to glorify the occaision. Maybe they were saving those for today.

As I find my spot in line, I find it difficult not to think back to my husband’s little tax filing-related issues that came up over the past many years. These problems were never show stoppers either. In fact, generally, the only problem was that he had not made the time to comb the house one last time for missing receipts to add a deduction or two. I always had the return done in plenty of time for his review, but it seemed that we could never get the return done for the April 15th deadline. When the October deadline rolled around, he was no more ready to sign on the line than before. In fact, I would guess that 90% of the time, the tax return hadn’t changed since its pre-April 15th state.

This year marks the second return that I have filed without my dear husband’s signature. It is the second year that the return has hit the post office by the April deadline. That, in and of itself, brings on a level of sadness that is “taxing.” I guess I miss fighting about not being on time.

Posted by Juls at 2:55 PM | Permalink

After a cup of coffee, I was inspired enough to try Ronin on a run.  It's been a while since he and I ventured out together for running.  I knew I'd have to keep it short with my ankle and all so I figured I wouldn't be pushing him beyond his limits. 

I also had tentative plans to run with Lil Sis later in the day.  The plans were contingent upon us getting a moment to break away from the family gathering.  I wasn't sure if Lil Sis would want to run with the temperature predicted at 88 degrees in the area.  If I ran a bit with the dog, I'd be sure to cover some ground.

Ronin and I ended up traveling about 2 miles.  He was well behaved, stopping at the corners and sitting when given the order.  My foot/ankle felt a bit of discomfort in the last mile.  I was happy to arrive back at the house. 

We returned to find Lucky waiting at the door - tail wagging madly.  I leashed him up for a walk, but out the door he was urging me to let him run.  I gave in but kept to a slow pace given my ailment and his aging joints.  Lucky ran the better part of the 1/2 mile loop before pooping out.  I was surprised to feel my foot and ankle actually recovering during the run.  By the time we were back at home, I was totally pain-free.

I felt satisfied to have a short run added to my log.  If I didn't end up getting away for a run later, it would be alright.  I packed up my gear anyhow, and was pleased to be running with Lil Sis a few hours later.  We ran 4 miles (more or less) in the heat of the day.  My foot and ankle did not complain either.

I'd call it a good day.  I won't be foolish enough to call it a "streak" again, but it was a step in the right direction.

Posted by Juls at 8:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I sat in the tiny bit of shade left as I watched the boys run up and down the soccer field.  The day was heating up quickly.  With the temperature up well into the 80s, today would be a day of much sweating. 

YaYa was running up and down the field like crazy. He wiped the sweat from his eyes.  I watched proudly, though in ignorance for soccer is not a sport that I know much about.  I try to keep my cheers are simple, so as not to let on my lack of knowledge OR to misdirect my son. 

The game was a good one.  YaYa's team scored the first goal, the other team tied it up, and finally YaYa's team got the win.  It looks like the weather isn't the only thing that is heating up.  It looks like the soccer season is heating up too.

Posted by Juls at 8:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I originally started this blog with the intention of writing about "running."  We all know where that went.  I got off track a bit and began sharing a little too much of my personal life. 

At the time, that is what I needed to write about.  The act of sharing such intimate stuff opened up a whole new set of issues for me.  It was time for a change.

I took a break from blogging for a while, and I re-evaluated my boundaries.  When I returned from my sabbatical, I began writing about running again (and dog poop).  I knew that eventually I would have to branch out to new topics, but these topics offered me a pretty safe place to start again. 

My running even began to take off again.  That's a good thing!  It's been a long time since running and I have traveled in the same circles.  I got a little stubborn and ran two days in a row in spite of my throat being sore and my head hurting.  I even called it a "streak."

Well...

My running streak has now been replaced with a non-running streak.  No big deal.  These things happen, Right?

Wrong!

My foot/ankle began hurting while walking the dogs of all things.  Because that is *so* strenuous.  My ankle (the same one that I twisted in January) is also swollen tonight.

It sucks but there it is.  Hence, *the title of this post.* 

It could be a fluke.  If it's not, I might have to subject you to more stories about dog poop.  Fortunately, I have enough stories to dirty up a backyard.

It's just a thought, but you might want to say a couple of prayers for a speedy recovery -- just in case.

Posted by Juls at 10:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

It's a good thing that I had you keep my plans to run a secret.  I mean, really; if people got word of it, and tried to find me at my favorite running spots, they would have been sorely disappointed.  I never even made it out the door. 

Around 4 pm, a corporate-wide email went out to all employees.  My voicemail light came on at the same time. 

Fortunately, the announcement was good news.  You can't be sure these days, and with my last company having layoffs two years in a row, I'm a little leery.  Instead of getting our pink slips, everyone was invited to a celebration.  So, there was no running after work for me.  Like the good employee that I am, I made my dutiful appearance at the gathering. 

It's just as well.  I haven't been feeling all that energetic since last week's headache.  I have been both emotionally and physically strained this week.  Another day of running might have pushed me right over the edge. 

I arrived home with a bit of time before YaYa would be home from practice.  It wasn't enough for a run, but was enough to get a few things done.  With the dogs by my  side, I folded laundry in the garage, watered some thirsty plants in the yard, and read the mail.  Ronin and Lucky stayed occupied by filling up on dog food. 

After our chores, the three of us went for a walk in the neighborhood.  Later YaYa joined us for a trip one last trip down the block then in and out of the courts.  Ronin and Lucky didn't even beg at dinner, and they are now passed out for the night.  *smile*

Now, THAT is something to celebrate!

Posted by Juls at 8:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

The treadmill was a lot gentler on me today.   I got one of the "good ones," while the guy two machines down did not.  I wasn't exactly sure what his problem was.  I was trying to mind my business and stay in my little iPod world, but it was hard. 

It sounded like he was having a temper tantrum.  He was banging his feet so loudly that I couldn't help but overhear the commotion.  After he left, a lady came over with a towel to clean up the mess he made.

I kept it short and ran only 4 miles.  It was just a smidgen more than yesterday.  I felt good but didn't want to push my luck.  I am on a streak, you know.  I have managed to exercise TWO days in a row!  I even did strength work.

Now, don't tell anyone but... I am planning to run again tomorrow - outside even.  It looks like the beginning of something beautiful, and I don't want to jinx it.

Posted by Juls at 9:15 PM | Permalink

There was a huge going on in my head as I approached the freeway off-ramp.  Would I turn left towards the gym, or would I turn in the opposite direction and go home? 

Among the factors to weight in on my decision were two dogs who were locked inside the house.  Ronin couldn't do much damage from inside his crate, but Lucky has aged and so have his intestines.  I know that if I were to go home first, I'd wouldn't make it to the gym and back on time to get YaYa from soccer to guitar on time.  It was the hardest decision of my day. 

Left or right?

It arrived at the treadmills on time to nab the last treadmill.  Without much time, I planned to keep my run short.  I wasted no time and quickly started belt the moving at 6.8 MPH with an incline of 1.5%.  I wasn't surprised to find the run difficult; it's not like I have been a pillar of fitness and strength lately.  I was hot, and my mind fought with the urge to quit.  But I held back the urge and pulled out 3.5 miles of determination in 31 minutes' time.

I returned home to discover two cold and offensive-smelling piles of an aging dog's intestinal discontent.  Those extra 31 minutes would not have made any difference.  I let the dogs outside, cleaned up the mess, and then took them each for a short run around the block.  Well, Ronin ran around the block.  Lucky made it to the corner and then we walked the remainder of the trip. 

When Lucky and I returned to the house, he gulped down some water and then threw it up on the rug a few minutes later.  I fumbled to unlock the door and get him out to the back yard, but it was too late. 

Maybe my run functioned more than a test of will.  Perhaps it was helping me to not get defeated by this nasty situation.  I didn't curse, or kick, or scream; I just cleaned it up and then locked the dogs outside until I returned. 

I drove away hoping that my yard would remain intact until I returned.    It's now morning, and I still haven't looked.  I need to get that dog-run fixed up soon!

Posted by Juls at 4:15 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I got back into the van, after filling up my gas tank - thus draining my bank account of all of my hard-earned money. YaYa was in the back with my iPod.

As I began to drive, I could hear Tom’s voice saying, “Come on Julie, you’re almost there…” Startling thought it was, it didn't take long for me to realize the source of the voice. The blend of voices and music that followed was familiar to me. DD had recorded Tom and kids’ voices and mixed it to a lively beat for encouragement on my long runs and races. I never dreamed that it would one day serve as the only way my son would be able to hear his own Dad’s voice again.

The song finished, and immediately it began again, and again. At the stoplight, I looked back at YaYa to check his face for tears. “Are you okay?” I asked. His answer was quiet, but the response was “yes.” I turned back towards the front of my car, just as a tear rolled down my cheek. The light turned green and, just like that, we were wiping away our tears and moving forward once again.

No longer is it strange to find that the process of filling up is completely draining. That’s just how it is these days.

Then you move onward.

I wonder if we can get the recording of Tom entertaining everyone with a story from his childhood. He told it at his sister Judy's 50th Jubilee - celebrating 50 years as a nun. He told such an entertaining story, he did. Everyone was laughing outloud (LOL) and, some, were litterally rolling on the floor (ROTF).

I bet YaYa would LOVE to hear that one. I'll have to ask DD for it again.

Posted by Juls at 8:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

There I was running on the track, thus making good use of the time between YaYa's soccer pictures and game time.  I hadn't planned it.  As such, I wasn't fully equipped for the task.  Since these moments seem rare, I was not going to let it go by without a try - jog bra or not.

It seemed to be working out.  Perhaps, others would disagree with me but I wasn't aware of any odd stares as I circled round the track.  I listened to some music and took in my surroundings as I went.

I ran behind a young women.  Watching her wave to her son in the play area with each lap, I could easily reminisce over my past experiences doing the same.  I suppose that motherhood and running has it's own stages of development. 

After a bit, the mom and I were passed by a young man in black and red shorts.  He didn't appear to be going very fast so I did my best to keep up with him.  I lost him for a bit, but then lapped him after he had stopped to walk the final lap of his 1-mile run.  He was not impressed. 

Onward I ran.  In my next lap, I passed a young women with shoulders which were beautifully sculpted to a level of fitness I could not help but admire.  I was now running with a completely different set of people.  It seemed strange to me as I was still working on my 3rd mile.  My music urged me to keep going and, as I ran, I took in more of the sights around me.

On the center field, there was a girls soccer game being played.  I watched the colorfully uniformed girls with their pigtails flying as they fought for possession of the purple soccer ball.  It was such a pretty color that I found myself wanting one.  I wondered if I would have tried harder to conquer my "no ball-sports" rule if soccer balls had been that pretty when I was younger.

On the sidelines and in the stands, the crowd cheered loudly.  There was one father (I assume) that was especially energetic about his daughter "winning" the ball.  His yells for her to run "faster" and "harder" got me going too.  Even over the sound of my music.

With another mile behind me, I watched the teams refuel on the edge of the field.  Around me was yet another set of runners and walkers.  Up ahead, I could see a mother with her son running wildly behind her.  His movements revealed the newness of his ability to run.  He, however, had more determination than everyone on the track.  I removed one earpiece and cheered for him as I passed.  "YOU are a GREAT runner," I said.  Toothlessly, he beamed at me.

I finished up.  Then I was able to sit and enjoy the sunshine as I watched YaYa and his team finish their warm up.  Then the game began.

Posted by Juls at 4:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

It's the end of a long day.  The treadmills are filling up quickly.  I am moving along to the music and letting the song signal me to accelerate again and again. 

I am surprised at how comfortably I am running.  I am not out of breath, and my ankle feels okay.  More surprising is that the movement is not aggravating the headache that kept me home from work today.  The dull ache still remains, but my running is smoother than usual today.  Perhaps it is because I am not out pounding the pavement, but indoors running in place.

I look around. 

The woman beside me has the incline so high that she has to hold onto the railing so as not to fall off.  She is literally leaning back, and hanging on for dear life.  I want to tell her to decrease the incline, or the speed, but I think that she might have some method to her madness that I can just not see.  In front of me are two young girls (around 15 or 16 years old) walking side by side on their treadmills.  I am not able to determine if they just haven't been able to figure out how to get the machines going, or if they are just using the treadmills as a chance to slow down for once. 

Here I am being so critical of everyone else and yet I have become so alienated from my running that a divorce is inevitable.  I look back to my machine, content to watch the dots appear on my virtual track.  I prefer to watch the dots instead of the TV screen on the fancy new treadmills.  I also like my stats in minutes per mile rather than miles per hour.  It seems that I'm critical about the machines too.

I wonder if anyone is looking at ME in the same way.  I wonder if they can tell that I have been neglecting my relationship with running for the past six months. 

It's been six days since my last run.  I feel so pathetic to still refer to myself as a runner, yet I will not let go of that title.  I've earned it, and I will fight to keep it!

Speaking of fighting, it seem that I have been on my machine beyond the time limits (when people are waiting).  I'm going to lose it here.  I pick up the pace, determined to finish the mile that I am on.  I am annoyed that the world doesn't cut me some slack.  I am the WIDOW, who hasn't had more than 45 minutes this week to work out.  This is MY time; my ONLY time.  Aware of the urgency, I pick up the pace even more. 

I know that everyone is looking at me now, but I don't care. 

Go ahead, LOOK at ME! 

My husband died because he didn't take care of his body! 

Can't you wait just five frickin' minutes?...so that I don't suffer the same fate!  Don't worry, your dinner will still be hot if you get home 5 minutes late. 

Why DOESN'T ANYONE CARE that I haven't had any time for me this week? 

Isn't anyone listening?

Oh...this isn't really happening?  There isn't anyone waiting for this treadmill after all, and I haven't actually been yelling out load.

*smile* 

I HAVE been running at 7:30 minutes/mile pace though.  I DID just finish a 5 mile run. 

Unfortunately, I still HAVE a headache, my husband really DID die, I AM still a widow, and my time IS up.  On the other hand, my roses ARE blooming, dinner IS in the oven, and it WILL be ready when Ryan finishes up his soccer practice.

Posted by Juls at 5:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Art therapy 

Draw a picture of a bridge and be sure to include yourself in the drawing.

Driving to work each morning, I consider my mood.  More recently it has been mostly "good."  My good may not be the same as it was before, but it is a good in comparison to how I have been feeling in the past year.  The realization that you are at a new spot on the grief journey is startling and hard to comprehend (even for me).  Today however, as I began my art therapy assignment, it all became a little clearer.

I used the Bixby Bridge as my inspiration for my drawing.  As you can clearly see, I have nearly reached the other side of the bridge.  The big hill, better known as Hurricane Point, is behind me.   It is sunny all around, and there is nothing but lovely sights to enjoy.  Even the bull, who is surrounded by a bed of colorful wildflowers, is happy.

You may have read all about Hurricane Point on the marathon website.  If you've run this race, perhaps you tailored your training specifically for the purpose of conquering that hill.  When I ran this race, I did just that.  I went into the race confident that I could climb the hill successfully.

I did just that.  The Taiko drummers' percussive beat helped me right up that hill.  The problem was, the race was not over yet.  There were MANY more ups and downs to go, and if you didn't read about the race carefully you may have missed the key words that would indicate this. 

Well, I think of my grief journey is a lot like the BSIM race course.  In my drawing, you will see that I've conquered the first big challenge.  There will be many more challenges along the way however.  Some will be small, and others will be BIG. 

I need to prepare for a long journey - enjoying the enjoyable and keeping my endurance up for whatever is around the bend.

Posted by Juls at 10:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

When YaYa was just a wee lad, he used to play with my hair while going to sleep.  He would do it unconsciously, reaching up and twirling the strands, of what hair his little hands could grab a hold of, until he feel off to sleep.  After he was safely sleeping, I would gently remove my hair from his little fist so that I could retreat to my own bed - at least for a few hours.

As YaYa grew, the routine continued to be a part of our nightly routine.  He came up with names for the various types of hair-play - Rakes, Pick Ups, Ponytails, Pets, etc.  Unfortunately, these days the hair-play is less common than it is routine.  There is nothing more enjoyable though.

Tonight, in order to get him to do "ponytails", I have to bribe him with sips of my tea. 

*sheesh* 

What is this world coming to?

Posted by Juls at 9:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)