not your ordinary run - but not a run of the mill run either
I was all set for a 20 miler with my friend Suzanne. I left my house in the near dawn hours - 620 AM - to meet Suzanne at our usual place. I felt pretty good since I remembered to load up on ibuprofen the night before. Before leaving, I had my granola bar and coffee and took care of potty business. My bottle was filled with Gatorade and I had a bag full of jelly beans. I was in it for the long haul...at least I thought so.
I passed a few other people out there and met up with Suzanne. She had been having some achilles problems and had on her black compression socks. She looked doubtful but was ready to give it a try - going slow...which for her is going at my pace. We started out and the next thing I know, I was heading for the ground - my only thought was "boom" which is what my grandson Desmond says any time something or someone falls, has fallen or is about to.
My right foot must have stepped on something uneven and down I went - luckily the plate in my previously broken and now reinforced ankle held up and instinctively I tucked and rolled and landed on my outstretched hands. I am not old enough or fragile enough to break things yet when I fall so I got up and we continued on - for about a 1/2 block and then Suzanne stopped in mid stride - she was stricken by a stabbing in her bad achilles. She couldn't run at all. Later she found out she has a tear in her soleus muscle. So...we walked to my house, got Pirate and Hanzo, the little grand dogs. We walked home with her and then I took the dogs on their usual walking route.
I thought perhaps this was not a day to do 20 miles - it seems like we had some pretty clear signs. Another cup of coffee was calling me as well as the newspaper, and the bread I was going to bake. Being a stubborn Finn I decided to call bullshit on that and took the dogs home, loaded up more gatorade and headed out. I decided to do a 6 mile loop three times....boring but at least I would be close to home if I got tired.
The first loop was pretty good. I listened to NPR on my IPOD - a recap of President Obama's speech (which I thought was pretty good) and stuff about a guy who tailored $4000 suits for people. It was uphill for the first half and then I slid into the easy downhill that lead me back around. It's really hard not to go home when you are so close but I resisted the temptation. For some reason, I thought of Nora Ephron who recently died, and how she wrote about how she didn't like her neck. Maybe because I was thinking that my knees looked wrinkly? But I don't mind that at all - I have earned them and wrinkles or not, they carry me where I want to go.
As I was about to begin the second lap, someone in a car stopped and said something to me....at first I thought it was just some smart ass or someone who liked my legs but it was one of my old running buddies who has taken up trail running and hasn't run with us for a long time. "Get your shoes on and come with me I yelled".
"I have my shoes on, but no Jock strap" he replied. I did not need to know this but imagined it would be like running without a bra. Kinda gave me something to think about during that second lap. Glad I am not a guy - it's bad enough binding the girls in with a sports bra that is hell to get off when you are sweaty - and when you have sore shoulders.
The uphills were tougher the second lap so I changed my pod from NPR to a playlist I made for my friend Bob (see the posts labeled The Bob Chronicles for more info on him) who died of ALS. What could I have given him when he could not eat, drink, or move his hands? Music! I made him three CDs with happy upbeat songs. The first two CDs were pretty good and so was the last except that it was filled with songs about dying - like one by the Austin Lounge Lizards "Can I have your stuff when you die", and Led Zeppllin's "Stairway to Heaven" and The fifth Dimensions "And when I die, and when I'm gone...there will be one child born....in the world to carry on...". I think he liked them.
The first CD kept me pretty motivated with songs like " And I will walk five hundred miles and I will walk 500 more...." And what the hell does "hiver" mean - as in "And when I hiver I want to be the man whose hiverin for you". Who knows? I gotta look that one up.
As I was getting into the downhill, "Bittersweet Symphony" by the Verve played. I always liked that song and it was the only hit they ever had I think :
"It's a bittersweet symphony this life. Try to make ends meet, you're a slave to money then you die..."
Life is kind of bittersweet I thought. I was supposed to be in Carlisle, PA with my daughter, running the Bird in Hand 1/2 marathon this Saturday. Instead I was going to be at my friend Enid's funeral doing one of my funeral talk. It was the right choice. I can run a 1/2 marathon any time. Look at me...I was running or going to if I made one more lap, a 20 miler. But damn, Enid, I know you were 86 but I wasn't done with you yet. There were more lunches to go to - and more Saturday beers to drink. Bittersweet symphony. Say "hi" to my mom and dad. I wasn't really done with them either. But time waits for no man or no running woman. Enid was going to be buried in the socks that I knit for her. She loved them and said they were darling. Almost every time I visited her in the last month, she had those socks on.
Nor was I done with this run. For the last loop, I decided to mix it up and do it backwards. But I was needing water so headed to the park to refill my water bottle. I wondered what people were thinking when they saw me go by their house three times in a row. Maybe they didn't notice, but I like to think people notice me: "There goes that same woman again (I really want them to say "girl" but I have to be realistic). What do you think she is doing? Should we call the police? Maybe she is staking us out". I wonder if some of them say "I wonder what happened to that big dog she used to have with her". I reach down and pet and imaginary Jack. And an imaginary Bailey - our first dog.
My IPOD is playing Louis Armstrong:
Hokey-Skoki, Skoli-oki-aan
Okey-Dokey, anybody can
Skoki-skoki man, oh man oh man
This also makes me think of Enid and her husband Vic - also gone. Vic played in a Jazz band and Enid sang with him. They loved Louis Armstrong. I was feeling so upbeat by this song that I considered going further than my last loop and adding a few more. But the song ended and so did my enthusiasm. But Billy Joel's Piano Man, got me up the last hill and heading downhill for the last three miles home. I decided I should have done all of the laps this way because they were all downhill. And the "It's nine o'clock on a Saturday" line again reminded me of Enid's funeral tomorrow. The viewing started at 9.
I was feeling a little giddy - the runner's high or something - maybe lack of oxygen. Why was I doing this I wondered? I am kind of - well sort of old(er). "Because I can," the sometimes pathetic optimistic voice in my head yelled. You have dead friends. Keep your ass moving. Or it will someday sit upon your thighs. The line of demarcation will be obliterated! So I did until I came upon a young lad with those new/old glasses that people wore when I was a kid and are popular now. He had a dog with one blue eye and one green eye so I had to stop and talk to him and pet the dog and tell him about my dead dog. He was a nice kid but no one wants to hear about a dead dog. He obviously loved his dog and told me to have a good run.
So I ran on. I got to the hill leading to my house and smiled. I did it despite my falling down morning. When I got home and looked up my route on GMAP Pedometer I found out I had actually ran 20.4.
Take that bittersweet life. Bittersweet though it may be, it is a good life.
I passed a few other people out there and met up with Suzanne. She had been having some achilles problems and had on her black compression socks. She looked doubtful but was ready to give it a try - going slow...which for her is going at my pace. We started out and the next thing I know, I was heading for the ground - my only thought was "boom" which is what my grandson Desmond says any time something or someone falls, has fallen or is about to.
 |
| Me and sweet little Des. I sure miss him - he added so much joy to our lives this summer |
 |
| Pi and Hanzo after a run earlier this summer |
The first loop was pretty good. I listened to NPR on my IPOD - a recap of President Obama's speech (which I thought was pretty good) and stuff about a guy who tailored $4000 suits for people. It was uphill for the first half and then I slid into the easy downhill that lead me back around. It's really hard not to go home when you are so close but I resisted the temptation. For some reason, I thought of Nora Ephron who recently died, and how she wrote about how she didn't like her neck. Maybe because I was thinking that my knees looked wrinkly? But I don't mind that at all - I have earned them and wrinkles or not, they carry me where I want to go.
As I was about to begin the second lap, someone in a car stopped and said something to me....at first I thought it was just some smart ass or someone who liked my legs but it was one of my old running buddies who has taken up trail running and hasn't run with us for a long time. "Get your shoes on and come with me I yelled".
"I have my shoes on, but no Jock strap" he replied. I did not need to know this but imagined it would be like running without a bra. Kinda gave me something to think about during that second lap. Glad I am not a guy - it's bad enough binding the girls in with a sports bra that is hell to get off when you are sweaty - and when you have sore shoulders.
The uphills were tougher the second lap so I changed my pod from NPR to a playlist I made for my friend Bob (see the posts labeled The Bob Chronicles for more info on him) who died of ALS. What could I have given him when he could not eat, drink, or move his hands? Music! I made him three CDs with happy upbeat songs. The first two CDs were pretty good and so was the last except that it was filled with songs about dying - like one by the Austin Lounge Lizards "Can I have your stuff when you die", and Led Zeppllin's "Stairway to Heaven" and The fifth Dimensions "And when I die, and when I'm gone...there will be one child born....in the world to carry on...". I think he liked them.
The first CD kept me pretty motivated with songs like " And I will walk five hundred miles and I will walk 500 more...." And what the hell does "hiver" mean - as in "And when I hiver I want to be the man whose hiverin for you". Who knows? I gotta look that one up.
As I was getting into the downhill, "Bittersweet Symphony" by the Verve played. I always liked that song and it was the only hit they ever had I think :
"It's a bittersweet symphony this life. Try to make ends meet, you're a slave to money then you die..."
Life is kind of bittersweet I thought. I was supposed to be in Carlisle, PA with my daughter, running the Bird in Hand 1/2 marathon this Saturday. Instead I was going to be at my friend Enid's funeral doing one of my funeral talk. It was the right choice. I can run a 1/2 marathon any time. Look at me...I was running or going to if I made one more lap, a 20 miler. But damn, Enid, I know you were 86 but I wasn't done with you yet. There were more lunches to go to - and more Saturday beers to drink. Bittersweet symphony. Say "hi" to my mom and dad. I wasn't really done with them either. But time waits for no man or no running woman. Enid was going to be buried in the socks that I knit for her. She loved them and said they were darling. Almost every time I visited her in the last month, she had those socks on.
 |
| These are the socks I made for Enid. I finished them quickly when I found out she had 4-6 weeks to live. |
My IPOD is playing Louis Armstrong:
Hokey-Skoki, Skoli-oki-aan
Okey-Dokey, anybody can
Skoki-skoki man, oh man oh man
This also makes me think of Enid and her husband Vic - also gone. Vic played in a Jazz band and Enid sang with him. They loved Louis Armstrong. I was feeling so upbeat by this song that I considered going further than my last loop and adding a few more. But the song ended and so did my enthusiasm. But Billy Joel's Piano Man, got me up the last hill and heading downhill for the last three miles home. I decided I should have done all of the laps this way because they were all downhill. And the "It's nine o'clock on a Saturday" line again reminded me of Enid's funeral tomorrow. The viewing started at 9.
I was feeling a little giddy - the runner's high or something - maybe lack of oxygen. Why was I doing this I wondered? I am kind of - well sort of old(er). "Because I can," the sometimes pathetic optimistic voice in my head yelled. You have dead friends. Keep your ass moving. Or it will someday sit upon your thighs. The line of demarcation will be obliterated! So I did until I came upon a young lad with those new/old glasses that people wore when I was a kid and are popular now. He had a dog with one blue eye and one green eye so I had to stop and talk to him and pet the dog and tell him about my dead dog. He was a nice kid but no one wants to hear about a dead dog. He obviously loved his dog and told me to have a good run.
So I ran on. I got to the hill leading to my house and smiled. I did it despite my falling down morning. When I got home and looked up my route on GMAP Pedometer I found out I had actually ran 20.4.
Take that bittersweet life. Bittersweet though it may be, it is a good life.
Comments