Flying over the Clouds

I have this thing for clouds. I love them. Its not obsessive or anything like that. I just love to lay on my back and look at the them. I think they are so beautiful. I especially love the clouds you get to see when I fly. I love breaking through the cloud cover on take off and looking out over the clouds like its a big fluffy blanket, or an ocean of whipped cream drenched in golden sunlight. There are few things more beautiful than that to me. While I was looking out over thoe clouds yesterday while flying from Toronto to Atlanta, it occurred to me that I wouldn't have gotten to see such beauty if we hadn't just gone through some turbulence on the flight. And I admit, regardless of the million flights I've made between Toronto and Atlanta, the turbulence always makes my heart pound. I get a little nervous when the plane shakes. And when I realized that I had to go through those nervous moments to see one of my favorite sights, it was like the voice of God whispering to me, reminding me that life is the same; To experience true beauty in life, we sometimes have to go through some turbulence. And that turbulence in life can be scary, but the view on the other side makes the scary worth it...

"Hear, O LORD, and be merciful to me; 

       O LORD, be my help.

You turned my wailing into dancing; 

       you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,

that my heart may sing to you and not be silent. 

       O LORD my God, I will give you thanks forever." 

~Psalm 30:10-12

"I will extol the LORD at all times; 

       his praise will always be on my lips.

My soul will boast in the LORD; 

       let the afflicted hear and rejoice.

Glorify the LORD with me; 

       let us exalt his name together.

I sought the LORD, and he answered me; 

       he delivered me from all my fears.

Those who look to him are radiant; 

       their faces are never covered with shame."

~Psalm 34:1-5

 

Talk on the phone or park your car. But don't do both

I drive a little car, so maybe I just don't understand. Parking my car takes about 5 seconds and no skill at all, so maybe my opinion comes from too narrow a focus. But, after watching someone struggle to park her gigantic SUV next to my little car, I decided that auto dealerships or the DMV ought to create a parking test for people who want to drive an SUV. If you can't park it, you can't drive it. If you can only get it into the spot kinda straight, then you can't drive it. I realized after I had created this lovely parking test in my head, that my little friend trying to park her unnecessarily large truck, was actually just talking on the phone and trying to park with one hand... Of COURSE you can't park a huge car straight with one hand! What was I thinking?

I Love My Neighborhood

Yesterday I drove out of the Highlands to go to Midtown. It's only a couple of miles, 10  minutes or so across town, 20 in bad traffic. Its closer than driving to work by a long shot. But, it just wasn't "home." I went to Midtown to find a dress for a my little brother's wedding, and although I found something, I really didn't like being in that part of town! The taffic was aweful, the roads were closed all over the place, and to make it worse, it was pouring rain. I went to a grocery store in Midtown instead of waiting until I got back to the Highlands, and I hated trying to find what I needed there! Its probably a little insane I think, but I immediately felt better when I turned off of Monroe Drive onto Virginia Ave and was back in "my neighborhood." I am inclined to say that there isn't anything special about my neighborhood, but that is a lie! Its a like a little town inside the city. Regular folks live here. I can walk to the grocery store or, like I did today, down to the village and buy my mom a mother's day gift. I can cross streets in the middle of the street because its all residential area and few people are zipping along these streets- except of course the one my building is on. There really is nothing I HAVE to leave this area for, except to go to work and church. I hope I can stay in this neighborhood a long time, or at least, one day find another that I love as much as this one. I know I am totally corny..! So now I feel like all the people in my building should all come out on the front lawn now and we can sing, holding hands in a circle, "these are the people in my neighborhood, in my neighborhood, in my neighborhood, yes these are the people in my neighborhood..." 

ING Marathon: Mile 20 Girl

I woke up bright and early Sunday to cheer on a few friends and running buddies who were running in the ING Marathon and 1/2 Marathon. To my delight, mile 20 of the marathon was set up right in front of my apartment! I was excited the way I imagine I would be excited if a parade was going by my house. I just love running! After cheering at mile 8 for my friends running the 1/2 (go Jessy, Duffy, Amy, and Laurie!), I headed back to my mile marker at home and cheered on the runners who were crossing the 20 mile mark. Yes I sat on the steps and cheered for absolute strangers; Yes it was cold; Yes I probably looked like a dork (and fun to tease; thanks guys)! At first I did kinda feel silly cheering for people I didn't know, but then runners started to smile and cheer and say, "Thank you for being here!" The longer I sat there, the more I realized how important it was for me to be sitting there, cheering with a combination of phrases like, "looking strong," "looking good," "almost there," "on the home stretch now," "dig deep," "hang in there," "Yay Mile 20!" "Good Job!" "You got this," and "Woohoo!" Ok, so maybe Emerson and the guys enjoyed cheering on my single-handed job of cheering on runners, maybe I did look silly hanging out by myself, but I don't care. I know how much that cheering means to a runner, even if they have no idea who I am, and for that reason and a love of the sport, I cheered, and cheered, and cheered, and cheered, foolish looking or not. And, afterwards, about 2 hours or so afterwards, I went inside and drank another nice, hot, toasty, cup of coffee and realized all that clapping and cheering had broken the skin on my hands. I had no idea at the time my skin was starting to crack. But now, its incredibly painful and nearly impossible to wash my hands. However, I am fairly certain that the pain in my hands is minimal to the pain those runners I cheered on are feelings now. Strangely, the cracks are motivating. They remind me of the struggle of those other runners and inspire me to push through fatigue and keep running when what I really want to do is not run another step. Somehow if they could find the mental and physical discipline to run pass my 20 mile marker, then I can find the discipline to run pass a 6, 7 or 8 mile marker! So now I add a giant "Thank you" to all the "Woohoo's." Thank you for running and inspiring me to run. You all are my real-life heros!

Coming Alive

It's Spring!
It's Spring!

Roll Down the windows
Turn up the music
Let down your hair
Feel that warm air!

It's Spring!
It's Spring!

Can't you smell it?
Can't you feel it?
I can taste it
I can hear it!

It's Spring!

and
I feel like I'm coming alive
again

Dear Neighbor

I don't know you. I don't know your name or which apartment you live in. I don't know even what you look like. I know you're a girl and I know that you ride a car pool at 7 am on Tuesdays. But if I passed you in the street, I wouldn't recognize you. And I am hoping that you wouldn't recognize me either. I just want to say, "I'm sorry." You see, you said, "Good Morning to me" and I didn't even look at you. I didn't mean to be rude. It's not normally like me to walk on by without looking at or speaking to someone who spoke to me first. But something was happening Tuesday morning that you had no idea about. Tuesday morning was crazy hair day at school; We were celebrating Dr. Seuss at school. Because I have beyond my fair share of hair, I always am able to create some sort of wild hair-do for crazy hair day. When I was leaving my apartment (late) I was REALLY hoping not to run into you, or any other neighbors, and when I saw you there, waiting for your ride, I had tried my very best to pass by without being noticed. I failed, and you said, "Good Morning." In my shame I couldn't even look at you, so I just mumbled something and ran on by. I'm sorry! But can you blame me? If you had crazy hair day at your job, and you left you apartment looking like a "who" from who-ville, would you be bold enough to greet people you'd never met before? Maybe you are that bold. Well, if you are brave enough to leave your apartment looking like this and still feel confident and act normal, I think you are my new hero. So I am sorry, hopefully you won't recognize me when my hair is normal and you'll always be wondering about who the crazy hair girl was. I've included a picture in my little note so you know who it is apologizing.

The Point of No Return

We all have these decisions to make in life.Sometimes we have to make a decision about proceeding or turning back and the wisest choice isn't always apparent. I'm not talking about major, life-changing decisions. I'm talking about everyday sorts of decisions, for example, take the downtown connector or stay on I-20 and go to the Moreland exit, get gas here for a $1.74 or hope that the next station will be $1.72. These everyday sort of decisions can stump me sometimes. usually I can make a pretty good choice, and then there are times, when right as I pass the point of no return I realize with that sinking feeling in my heart I have made the wrong choice. And of course, the worst the choice, the more "sinking" that feeling is. Today, I made a miserable, wrong decision that could have gone very bad, and it was just as I literally stepped across the point of no return that I realized it was a choice I made from a stubborn, silly heart.

To tell the story, I have to give you a tiny bit of background. I am training for another 1/2 marathon. The race is in a little less than 2 months, and my training is going really well. The race is all trails at a horse park, and I am looking forward to a different adventure with this race. Usually when folks train for races they complete shorter runs during the work week and have a long run on the weekends. This weekend I was on schedule to run 8 miles during my long run. I was excited to reach this benchmark because its an important distance in preparation for the rest of the training.

So, on to the story! This morning I woke up excited for the run, and ready to get going because I had several other things to do today. I knew it was going to be raining, but I also enjoy running in a light rain. As I headed out, it was already drizzling and the air was pretty cool but the first 4 miles were actually really comfortable. My lungs and legs felt great and the drizzle keep me feeling comfortable. I pulled on my jacket around mile 3 because the drizzling had started to turn into a real rain and I decided it would be best to stay as dry as possible. I didn't start to question the wisdom in my run until mile 4 when hail started falling. It was small hail, and although it stung a little bit, it wasn't enough to make me seriously consider ending my run short. In fact, it quickly stopped and turned into a more steady and heavy rain. At that point I started going over my options: finish now with a solid 4 miles, or run another mile and turn around and finish with an admirable 6 miles, or just press on to the end of the 8 miles. The rain must not have been falling very hard, because I didn't actually even consider ending the run. I knew I would continue on to the end. And so on I continued. At mile 5 I momentarily thought about heading home and getting out of the rain, but unfortunately, I didn't entertain the thought for more than 5 seconds. It wasn't until about 50 strides past that I realized I should have turned around and headed home. But at the end of those 50 strides I was at the bottom of a gigantic hill, and it was either run on and finish the 3 miles or run up the hill and head home. The option was clear: run through the miserable rain and finish the last 3 miles because I had passed the point of no return. It somehow seemed that at the bottom of that hill either choice would mean running in the pouring rain and being miserable and since my shoes were already soaked through, I might as well stick it out to the end. I will not lie and say I enjoyed the run. I hated every soaking minute of it and entertained my mind with rescue stories most of the way home. I envisioned any number of people who knew I was out running being worried and driving the neighborhood looking for me; a couple of police officers and ambulances drove by me and several times I considered waving them down and asking for a ride. Perhaps all the cold and wet went to my brain because once I was SURE I saw a familiar pair of long legs and a Ford right ahead of me the had pulled off the side of the road waiting to take me home. But I was wrong. It turned out to be a Frontier of the same color and in the rain I am sure you could understand how I could mistake a frontier for a ford. So on I ran, and ran, and ran, until I ran up the stairs of my building and struggled with freezing fingers to punch the code into my front door and manage to wrangle it open so that I could take on another set of stairs and then fumble with the key to my front door. After successfully forcing my frozen fingers through these tasks which ought to be easy, I immediately removed all my wet running clothes and went start for the hot shower which I stood under and said, "ow, ow, ow" until the tingling in my limbs stopped and I felt human again. And as I drank the hot coffee to warm myself from the inside out after my shower, all I could think was, "why didn't you just come home after 4 miles?" Maybe one day I won't be so stubborn, but today I am just thankful I made it home before it started to snow.