Monday, February 22, 2010

To Nap or Not To Nap...

Thank heavens for 9:00 church time.
Dang that 9:00 church time.

Dang that 10 year old boy lesson preparation time at 6:30 AM.
Thank heavens for a nice, long afternoon!

Dang that rushing around to get the rolls made, shirts and clothes ironed, hair done, Sunday dinner started, last minute lesson items assembled, gum searched for, pantyhose looked for, and searching and searching for something to wear.
Thank heavens for church being over at 12 blissful o'clock!

Dang the afternoon meetings, home teaching, and dinner clean up.
Thank heavens for a soft bed and fluffy pillow to fall in to after dinner clean up.

Dang the mess I always manage to leave before 9:00 - in the bathroom, in the bedroom, in the kitchen, in the laundry room, and in the computer room.
Thank heavens for time to clean it up before it's time to go to bed.

Dang the missed morning walk with my honey.
Thank heavens for the brisk, late, windy afternoon walk with my honey.

But most of all, thank heavens for the nice 2 hour nap that I can take if I want to. Such leisure, such drowsiness, such grogginess, such bliss!
But dang the weird afternoon dreams which involve stealing my identity, stealing my purse, admitting that you took my purse and you've broken your probation, trying to cover up your theft with a jacket, and what in the world was I doing at a Kmart/Payless during the middle of the night with probation breaking purse stealing thieves in the first place? It absolutely woke me out of my slumber!

(Oh, well, weird dreams and all, my bed is much nicer than a nap against a pole at Payton's basketball game...yes, I said basketball game...)

Dang that 9:00 church time!
Thank heavens for that 9:00 church time!

Sunday, February 14, 2010

A letter to Robie Creek

Dear Robie Creek,

Tomorrow I will miss you. I will miss sitting feverishly at my computer with fingers revved and poised over my keyboard to frantically try to type faster than thousands of other runners who, for some strange sadistic reason, want to enter your coveted race.

Tomorrow I will miss you. I will miss the anticipation of training in tall drifts of snow and preparing to climb your steep 8.5 miles, often by myself, to reach the summit called Aldape. I will miss the relief that fills my body as I go 5 miles downhill to reach the finish line. I will miss the delicious feast of food that waits for me after the finish line is crossed and my t-shirt is picked up.

Tomorrow I will miss you. I have managed to get into your race for the past 6 six years and I have finished your difficult course in less than 2 hours 10 minutes.

Tomorrow I will miss you. I will miss the comraderie of 1500 other crazies on race day who, together, make the trudge up your winding, dirt canyon road.

Tomorrow I will think about you. I will remember the way I put sunscreen on my face last year without wearing a hat. I will remember the way sweat poured down my face and trickled into my eyes and burned them incessantly until the sunscreen had worn off.

Tomorrow I will think about you. I will remember the lovely sunburn I received on my right arm that outlined my ipod attached to that arm. I will remember how that sunburn outline tattoo stayed with me throughout the winter to help me remember that gorgeous day.

Tomorrow I will think about you. I will think about the training runs Alyssa and I ran last year to prepare for the pounding we would take from you. I will think about the gnarly trails we decided to take in the freezing wind and icy conditions to the top of the world - to the top of the world of Boise anyway. I will remember how nice it was to have a running partner who enjoyed climbing the hills and trails with me for a common purpose. I will remember how well Alyssa did and how excited she was to win a "medal" for taking 2nd place in her age group.

Tomorrow I will think about you. I will think about how nice going for a run is. I will try to remember how it feels to have my legs move freely beneath me without feeling like my hip is going to explode. I will think about this when I am climbing an infinite amount of stairs going nowhere in particular inside a gym and doing a bazillion exercises meant to strengthen my core. Sigh.

Robie Creek, I didn't know how much I would love, hate, miss, regret, and enjoy you. Please don't give your participants a cute t-shirt this year. Please don't give a great swag bag on number pick up day. Please remember me, because next year...