Monday, May 19, 2008
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
I Ran
It's hand to hand combat with a pale yellow sports bra,a blue tank top, and a yellow long sleeve t-shirt slipped on overhead, a pair of really warm fleace gray running pants and a swift tug and a tie of my blue and yellow trainers - & i'm off.
The constant steady rhythm and motion is not something i especially enjoy but as the sun returns from it's winter quarters it becomes something i do particularly crave. It's not the destination or sometimes even the time v distance that matters but the unavoidable and quite perspective that comes from sliding my feet into my very own very warn pair of sneakers.
Okay so i'm not going to break any records but there is something that feels fast about running, something that reminds me of being free. Free to move around without that yucky old wheelchair or crutches, something i often take for granted. it's free to let my thoughts run off just as far and fleeting as they dare adventure. It's setting fresh goals - and then crushing them! It's pushing myself farther, for the sheer reason of reminding myself that I can.
This month my goal was run 100 miles in a month and tonight as I was nearing the end of 100 and the beginning of 101 twelve years worth of adversary whistle wearing gym teachers came to mind. Despite my varsity soccer and swimming status, I am certain my dislike for working up a midday sweat earned me a proclivity toward civil disobedience, one which nearly cost me my summer vacation - every year, and eventually almost my diploma. Those gym teachers with their gym teacher smell and their ironic gym teacher round and lumpy shape would share quite a laugh if they knew that these days I actually get a bit cross when forced to skip a run.
Ahhh...How things can and do change....this of course is aside from my continued dislike of totalitarian women in sweaties and bad hair cuts... that has stayed pretty much the same :P
mw/h
Okay so i'm not going to break any records but there is something that feels fast about running, something that reminds me of being free. Free to move around without that yucky old wheelchair or crutches, something i often take for granted. it's free to let my thoughts run off just as far and fleeting as they dare adventure. It's setting fresh goals - and then crushing them! It's pushing myself farther, for the sheer reason of reminding myself that I can.
This month my goal was run 100 miles in a month and tonight as I was nearing the end of 100 and the beginning of 101 twelve years worth of adversary whistle wearing gym teachers came to mind. Despite my varsity soccer and swimming status, I am certain my dislike for working up a midday sweat earned me a proclivity toward civil disobedience, one which nearly cost me my summer vacation - every year, and eventually almost my diploma. Those gym teachers with their gym teacher smell and their ironic gym teacher round and lumpy shape would share quite a laugh if they knew that these days I actually get a bit cross when forced to skip a run.
Ahhh...How things can and do change....this of course is aside from my continued dislike of totalitarian women in sweaties and bad hair cuts... that has stayed pretty much the same :P
mw/h
Friday, May 2, 2008
"The End"
After 264 pages and 601 footnotes Craig was Finally put to rest today leaving behind one very happy Me!
According to my Microsoft Words Stats: This file has been on my screen for 336 Hours or 14 DAYS. I have opened this document 132 times. There are 452 paragraphs & I have been happy with the placement of exactly 74,328 words.
This last month it has taken me longer to write a single page than last year it took me to write an entire chapter. I don't think it was negligence but perhaps avoidance. It is hard to end a life on paper to say this is the end. I remember the day in the archive when I reached the end of his papers. It is a family collection, 16,000 items extending from 1765 to 1890. Craig's papers, letters, receipts, notes just stopped and a new generation of Craig's and their letters began. It wasn't just that life moved on, it was knowing that he would become forgotten. As someone who has been touched by the cold hand of death more than her fair share of times there was something very final and lonely about this experience in particular. It left a great and quiet sadness in me. I drove home without the radio on (very un-me, my life is immersed in music). I have felt a great responsibility in helping Craig tell his story, and although his death was but one small event of his life it seemed such a personal moment. Putting his death back onto paper felt as though I were dressing the body for a wake as opposed to what I wanted to do, bid him farewell on his journey to Aman. (psst it's a Tolkien reference)
As for me - It is not necessarily the ending of a project I don't like it is more the idea of starting another. At the end of each project I look back on the collection of stints where I ran my keyboard hot with good ideas and It scares me to think I will have to do it again & again & again because What if ... What if I never have another good idea...what if this time it was a fluke... what if I already played my best card...worse yet...what if I never had any good cards to play to begin with. This is the thought that scares me as the sun begins to set on any given project. This is the thought that makes Me (the worlds biggest lets-just-do-it-right-now-non-procrastinator) suddenly gain a back burner.
But for now, for this very short moment I'm going to sit back & as one dear and evil friend reminds me... feel like "amazing...crap" ;)
...Of course there is a great deal of editing to be done now...but that is a monster of a very different breed. For now I am just happy to say I am done.
Mw/h
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