Fear

The older I get, the more scared I seem to be.

When I was in high school and just starting to figure out running training, I would just put on a pair of cotton shorts, one of my Dad's old Hanes t-shirts, and whatever running shoes I happened to have at the time. I had no brand loyalty, didn't wear a watch, didn't listen to music, ran alone and unarmed. Took no water, just busted out mile after mile with no worries. I once ran 13 miles cold (with no training for it) as a 12-year-old just because my cross-country coach wanted to see how far I could last, and we stopped because HE was done, not me. He told me "Well, you may not know it, but I think your parents genetically engineered a distance running machine."

I don't run fast. But I can run for a really long time. And I LOVE it! It makes my life so much better for so many reasons.

But these days I'm scared and encumbered. I'm still pretty low-maintenance clothing and shoes-wise...cheap Soffee shorts, cotton shirts and (for the moment) Saucony running shoes (which completely make my day every time I lace them up). But I take an iPod, which would have been unthinkable for me before...sometimes I need the music to drown out the anger and frustration that running helps me deal with. When Ben and I are struggling or I'm worried about how I manage the kids or my school work, it's good to not dwell on the problems for the entire 2+ hour run that I'm working on. I wear a watch now; Ben has a deadline for getting to work, so I have to make sure I'm home in time for him to leave. I'm scared to death of cars in the pre-dawn half light, so I wear my red flashing light. There are some sketchy trailers back in the trees on one section of my run, so I carry pepper spray. For my long, LONG runs (more than 8 miles) I finally gave in and bought a belt to carry two water bottles so that I don't die of dehydration. None of this used to be a problem, and it sort of frustrates me that it is now.

It almost feels like the only way for me to have that "I just love to run and be free" feeling is to run an organized race. The race takes care of over-thinking things (I focus on the race instead), the timing (they do it for me), the half light and traffic (they block it off), the scary people (there are other runners on the course and the course is usually closed), and the water issues (lovely aid stations!). So I get to just GO.

But why does it have to be that way? I hate being scared of all the extra stuff that threatens to keep me away from something I enjoy so much.

The worst thing is that it's not just running. I worry about nearly everything. And I try to keep focused on the moment, but sometimes it just doesn't work! I think the worst parts of growing up/old aren't the physical things, but the mental ones. Hopefully I can manage to keep keeping it together.

Stupid people suck

Aren't I so articulate?

So, despite my wearing white and a blinking red LED flasher light that's visible for over 1/4 mile, some idiot ran me off the road today. I fell and skinned up both hands, hit my left hip pretty good and I think maybe twisted my left ankle (we'll see how it stiffens up, it might not be too bad). The thing that ticks me off is that we were on a straight stretch of road where there's good visibility in both directions, there was no oncoming traffic in the other lane, and I interfered in this guy's morning for all of 15 seconds!! I mean, seriously, can't they give me 18 inches? He seemed to think it would be funny to flip on his brights and then run as close to the edge line (which I was on the BERM SIDE of) as he could. I get really pissed off that other people being stupid ends up with me getting hurt.

And I know, that's just how life goes sometimes, but it still makes me angry, and makes me feel victimized.

So I just hope that I can make it through six more weeks of early morning runs without some idiot killing me, so I can actually run the marathon and mark it off my list!

Bee loves Toy Story

So much that we buy her the "boy" pull-ups that have Woody and Buzz Lightyear on them, rather than the Dora the Explorer ones she used to prefer. And she has a Toy Story scooter.

Today, from the back seat, she made her baby doll (that looks nothing like Woody, but she treats as though it is him) say "Somebody's toys in the water hole!"

I roared with internal laughter, but didn't dare let her hear for fear that she'd never say it again. :-)