Maybe it was the s’mores ’round the campfire this weekend, or the fact that my husband is out of town and the girls were out of school, but as a runner I was not at my stellar best today.
I didn’t even get out there ’til 6:30 pm (a good 12 hours later than usual) and it was just plain clunky.
I was not fast.
I was not strong.
I was not inspired.
I just put in my time.
So it is nice to reflect back on last week and remember it wasn’t half bad.
Mileage for the week: 19 miles
Longest run: 9 miles
Grand total since I started training: 67 miles
High point: Running with company!
My good buddy Kathie came off the IT-band bench and we clocked the perfect nine miles on Friday — blue and breezy, with a big ol’ latte waiting at the end.
So back to today. One silly little day. Three miniscule miles.
I guess the take-away message is that some days are better than others, and the crummy ones still count.
Putting in my time — as a runner, a writer, a parent — isn’t, in itself, going to win me any awards or beauty contests.
But it will keep me afloat, with a hand-hold on what I’m working toward.
So that when the good days — the strong and inspired ones — arrive?
I’m at the ready.
Quote for the week:
Slow and steady wins the race. — Aesop
Those of you who have kids know that writing prompts aren’t just for breakfast anymore.
Once the property of Natalie Goldberg and writing workshops for grown-ups, writing prompts have become a fixture in the elementary school classroom.
And they pretty much work for kids the way the work for us — intermittently.
"It’s like bad prompt week at school," one of my girls will say.
"Today’s prompt was so random that I pretty much didn’t even get it!" the other chimes in.
(Side note: Doesn’t it just kill you when kids (of all people) call something random?!?!)
Other times they rave.
"I could’ve written for my writing prompt all day today!"
"I started writing about my dream but then it took off into the greatest story!"
Every so often one of them will want to share what they’ve written, and tonight was one of those nights.
I asked permission to share this with you all. It just seemed so dang pertinent.
It’s by my Tall One. Enjoy.
If I Could Create a New Holiday…
If I could create a new holiday it would be called W.A.O. day. W.A.O. stands for We Are One! It would be an international holiday.
Why would we celebrate it? Well, in my opinion, if we would come together and make peace we would have a better world. So this holiday would celebrate that.
It would be in November. November 7th, to be exsact.
I would have it take place in different continents ever year, and different countrys. I think it should start in Malaysia. We would all go down to were ever it was held and have a big picnic with everyone.
N. America bringing soup. Everon in S. America bringing muffins, bread and sandwiches. Everone in Europe brings vegis. Everyone in Asia bringing fruit or rice or soup/sushi. (Its so big it needs a lot of potluck items) Then Australia and Africa bring beans and meat and fish.
Any ways, then we would have a talent show and some contests. Then music and some danceing. Then we would all get to talk for 15 min. Then would come the grand finale.
We all would get in a HUGE circle and all say an oath that would go like this:
I say now that I will live in peace, speack up, and have responsibility. I will help others and respect youngers and elders. I oath.
Then we would all bow or say amen or say ommmm or whatever you do.
Then there would be more music and fireworks. It would be a great holiday.
No kidding. And according to her calculations, it’s tomorrow. In Malaysia.
"… Always remember that no matter what obstacles stand in our way, nothing can stand in the way of the power of millions of voices calling for change…"
My elder daughter is taking a field trip to the Texas Capitol today.
She’ll learn about the red granite they used to build the dome, she’ll have lunch on the rolling lawn, and she’ll be told that the women and men who work in that building are there to speak for her, for all of us.
She’ll be told that the people of Texas — like people all across the United States — come together in union to work toward a common good, to achieve liberty and justice for all.
They come together in schools and churches and neighborhoods and meeting halls and courtrooms and buildings like these,
where, she’ll be told, they make promises — to be truthful and faithful, to protect and defend, to do equal right to the rich and to the poor.
She’ll be told that there is system in place in our country designed to ensure that all that is fair and good will prevail.
This is not unlike what we say to children in picture books.
We assure them that there are people who love them and who are there for them no matter what. We let them know that each of their voices — unique and small though they may be — are valued and heard. We show them that their lives are full of hope and possibility. We remind them that even if today was rough, there’s a new day tomorrow.
I tend to cry on election day — and the day after — no matter the outcome.
It’s both humbling and empowering to understand the weight of what we’re being asked to do. Which is, in the end, nothing less than going to our polls and making good on all the things we’re telling our kids.
Grand total since I started — 48 (which is a little disheartening when you figure that’s not even TWO marathons and it took me three weeks!)
Lowlights — Thursday morning I really and truly was still asleep for the first 1/3 of my run. I think I may have even had a dream. Also, it feels like I’m going to have to replace my shoes sooner rather than later.
Highlights — When you have to replace your shoes in Austin, Texas, you get to go to Runtex and they treat you with such attentive care that you feel like you’ve been to the spa. Or on a date. Something.
Other highlights — As I finished my run on Saturday, the sun rose, the sky glowed apricot, the rowing sculls came out in droves and two swans slept in the middle of the lake with their long necks tucked completely into their wings. You can’t get all that on a Stairmaster. And, best of all, my running partners are emerging from their injuries and joining me again!
Quote for the week — Workouts are like brushing my teeth; I don’t think about them, I just do them. The decision has already been made. – Patti Sue Plumer, U.S. Olympian
That’s what I’m looking at this week. A lot of really decent tooth-brushing. You?
Much of what we did at our house this week will be familiar to you.
A run to the thrift store, some facepaint and homespun alterations, a coupla good hats and — voila — we sent a very funky witch and a very happy Willie Wonka off to school today. And they’ll devote tonight to collecting their body weight in chocolate.
But in Texas, Halloween gets the extra-special spin of Mexico’s Dia de los Muertos, aka Day of the Dead. This is a vivid, flower- and food-filled celebration in honor of loved ones who have died and who come back for a visit this time of year.
Altars are erected, candles lit, sugar skulls decorated.
She and her sister have studied Dia de los Muertos at school, written tributes to their great-grandparents, and generally absorbed the rules of the ritual (from catrinas to marigolds). They have learned that we should celebrate those who’ve come before us with great gusto. We should tell stories. We should laugh. We should remember their lives with utter and effervescent pleasure. Because, really, since death is inevitable and all, why not?
In this vein is a poem by Frances Chesterton (wife of G.K.). It’s actually rather somber but if you can conjure up some paper flowers, music and a little tequila, it’ll liven it up a bit…
LE JOUR DES MORTS
The day of the dead, the day of the dead, Down on your knees and pray, For the souls of the living, the souls of the dying, The souls that have passed away.
And the great bell tolls For the treasure of souls Delivered into his hand, Gabriel, Michael, Uriel, reap Souls as a measure of sand, Souls from the restless deep, Souls from the blood-red land.
The day of the dead, the day of the dead, Down on your knees and pray, For the souls of the outcast, despised and rejected, The heroes and victors to-day.
But this year, I voted early. I was worried about long lines. I was worried about catching the flu or contracting amnesia or being abducted by aliens — something that would prevent me from getting into the booth and having my say.
It felt too important to risk, so I voted yesterday.
I am not too shy or private to say that I voted for Barack Obama, and I have both the hope and the confidence that he will win this election, delivering some much-needed thoughtfulness and conscience into the White House.
I voted with my mind on global relations… healthcare & the economy… schools & the Supreme Court… the planet Earth.
You may have your mind on other important stuff. You may care most about your own local issues and races. You may prefer another candidate.
Regardless, you really oughta vote. It’s your chance to speak up, to say what you want and how you want it, to participate in the ongoing dialogue of democracy. People around the world have been known to line up for hours and walk for days… for the privelege of casting a ballot. In comparison, they make it pretty easy on us here. Go vote.
Early Voting:
In Texas, you can early vote through tomorrow.
Early voting closes on Saturday in New Mexico and on Sunday in Florida.
Sherman Alexie’s The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian is full of bits I’d like to quote or read aloud, but I’ll limit myself to my favorites here, and you can read the rest yourself…
From a conversation between Junior and Gordy about books and libraries:
"The world, even the smallest parts of it, is filled with things you don’t know….Okay, so it’s like each of these books is a mystery. Every book is a mystery. And if you read all the books ever written, it’s like you’ve read one giant mystery. And no matter how much you learn, you just keep on learning there is so much more you need to learn."
And here’s Junior, on losing his grandmother:
"When it comes to death, we know that laughter and tears are pretty much the same thing.
And so, laughing and crying, we said good-bye to my grandmother. And when we said good-bye to one grandmother, we said good-bye to all of them.
Last week I announced that I was training for my first marathon.
And really, I only announced it because once you say something out loud, it becomes too embarrassing to back out of.
So, in keeping with that line of thinking, my Monday posts for the next 16 weeks will be little blurbs on my training or my goals or my misery or my shoes or the songs on my ipod.
Training Partners? My sister (long distance so we’re keeping up via FitnessJournal) My buddy Kathie (providing her IT band snaps back into shape) Two as-of-yet uncommitted pals whom I hope to guilt into joining us
