+ or - Five Miles

When it comes up in conversation that I run, I usually get one of three reactions. One is a glazed-over look of sheer boredom, two is a surprised admiration and three is a look that says how nuts they think I am for running.
On my run this morning, I got to thinking about how many miles you can tell someone you ran today without them thinking you are a nut job. I decided that the dividing line is five miles. Lots of people have run 5Ks which is 3.1 miles and can therefore understand running in terms of maybe 3 or 4 miles. Five is probably the distance where your average, non-running friend thinks you start to sound crazy. I see it in people's faces all the time. Tell them you can 3 or 4 miles this am and they say, "Wow, good for you." Tell them you ran 6 or 8 miles and that look of admiration transforms into a "What a weirdo and why do you want to even run that far?" look. Big difference. They also love to tell you how bad it is for your body to run that far. Because I am not fast, it takes me just under an hour to run five miles. At the end I am tired and I am exhilarated. The tired feeling leaves quickly but the exhilaration stays with me all day. Hard to explain, but it keeps me "up" and focused, able to accomplish more than on the days I don't run. It elevates my mood and makes me a nicer person to be around ~ ask my family!
Today I ran 6 miles through the streets of Tustin. Yea, I am crazy...crazy like a fox! :)

Extraordinary Moments

Life is really made up of a whole lot of ordinary time with some extraordinary moments. Waiting for something BIG to happen means you just might miss a small moment that really is a big moment. Being sad, being judgmental, being anxious, being worried all take your energy away from how truly beautiful and wondrous this life is. It's also very fragile. Treat it with care.

Play Ball!

Little League baseball is a very good thing because it keeps the parents off the streets.

~ Yogi Berra

And also grandparents!! Opening Day today for Jack E. Boy. He is so excited and his enthusiasm spills on to us as well. I feel grateful to be able to watch this next generation play. Oh, yes, it is obvious that the politics and cliques among the parents still exist as they did when our son played baseball twenty years ago, but for the kids, it is pure joy. They want to be out there in their cool uniform, hit the ball and run the bases. Simple life lessons among the grass...Play fair. Be nice. Listen and learn. Have some fun. We'd all do well to relearn these lessons...at any age.

Jumping Rope

While driving Abbey around yesterday doing errands, I switched the radio to a kid's station. One of the songs had lyrics that said, "Life's like jumping rope ~ up and down." It got me to thinking how very true this statement is.
In my naive youth, I thought if you worked really hard and were a good person, life just kept going up and up, getting better and better. It was difficult to find out how wrong I was about that idea. Life is like jumping rope. It has its ups and owns, no matter who you are, where you are, how rich you are, how nice you are, etc. People get sick, jobs are lost, kids disappoint you, and on and on. The thing about ups and downs is to remember, no matter where you are at any given moment, it will change. This holds true whether everything in your life seems to be humming along perfectly, or if every time you turn around, another disaster is befalling you. Either situation, good or bad, is temporary. Now, discovering this fact can either make you feel like there is an anvil on your chest or you have just been set free. The choice is yours. There is a reason that the saying, "This, too, shall pass." came to be popular. Accepting that life has these ups and downs is a big step in being happy, right here, right now.
Yes, life is like jumping rope. The trick is to keep moving.

A Eulogy

It is with a heavy heart that I write these words. I am here today to commemorate the passing of two very special things. They have been with us for most of our lives and, therefore, are difficult to say goodbye to, even though they have become second class citizens. I am sad to announce the passing of two old technologies, talking and listening.
Way back when, often referred to as "the good old days", we had no choice in communication except face-to-face talking and listening. It was a good way to convey our needs, ideas, thoughts and more. Many strides were made for the betterment of mankind because people gathered around and actually took turns talking to and listening to each other. You received more than just the words spoken because you could look the person in the eye, notice their body language or the tone they were using. You had plenty of clues along with their words.
But time passed, and many new technologies were invented on the promise that they would better our lives. We soon gave up talking and listening for new, advanced things like instant messaging, texts, and emails. The upside was that we could get information to anyone, any where, at any time of the day or night. We could also receive information just as easily. The trouble is, a text only allows so many characters and it is written in cryptic form that has destroyed correct spelling for an entire generation (Where r u?) It offers very little about anything the sender is feeling and is often misconstrued. It is not accompanied by facial expressions, hand gestures or voice inflections. It is flat. In its flatness, it has flattened our relationships. We often choose the text as a way to communicate so we don't really have to speak to the person. It offers a shield. It keeps us apart in a way that the old talking and listening do not. How often is a person's text snarky and kind of pushy, but when you meet with them, they are as nice as can be? The shield is down and in its place are their facial expressions, their voice inflection and gestures. All these are as much a part of communication as the words tumbling from their mouth. Talking and listening are the ultimate examples of give and take in society and they will be missed.
Rest in peace.

Jump

“Jump into the middle of things, get your hands dirty, fall flat on your face, and then reach for the stars.”

My Baby

Thirty years ago today, it was 8am on a Saturday morning, my husband was working and I was enjoying a few extra minutes in bed. Suddenly, I felt something funny and thought the waterbed (yes, it was 1982!) had sprung a leak! Upon further investigation, it seemed, I had spring the leak! It had not happened like this during my first pregnancy with our daughter, but this time my water broke. Reluctantly, I called the doctor because there were no other signs of labor and, total control freak me, had been saying I wasn't going to the hospital this time until the baby was about to deliver! Once again, my favorite saying rears it's head, "Man plans. God laughs."
The doctor, rather emphatically, insisted that I needed to be in the hospital, for my safety and that of my baby. Realizing I was not going to win this argument with him, I agreed. Next, I called the homeowner where my husband was working (remember, 30 years ago ~ no pagers, no cell phones ~ just land lines!!!!) and I told her that I needed to speak with the guy working in her backyard, she refused. She said she was in her pajamas and wouldn't go outside in them. When I told her I was having a baby and needed him, she quickly changed her tune and ran outside. It was early, they had just unloaded all the tools and, his brother quickly began to reload them in the truck (remember this, Kevin?).
We arrived at St. Joseph's Hospital around 10:00am, got settled in and after the nurse made her examination, she said very little was happening. See, I told you I should have stayed home for awhile!! No, no, she replied, this is still where I needed to be. When the doc arrived, he suggested we start a pitocin drip to "help things along". My first child had been delivered without so much as a Bayer aspirin, so this was all new, uncharted waters for me. I had heard all the pitocin horror stories, hard to control contractions, more intense than normal, etc. Asking the doctor how long it would all take, he replied, "Let's get the train out of the station before we say when it will arrive at its destination!" Sounded like a great way to spend a Saturday afternoon!!
After many hours, having to endure a Lakers game on the television, at 4:40pm, our baby arrived. Remember, this was in the day when nobody knew what they were having and one of the rewards of hours of hard work (it ain't called labor for nothing!!), was finding out what "it" was. We had a boy! Later that night, my husband, who adored (adores) our daughter, came back to see me and said, "I knew it was another girl and I love Amber so much, I was fine with it, but I HAVE A SON!!
We had chosen the name of Justin if it was a boy. We were sure that was the right name. "J" names were really hip back then! The lady from the county recorders office came in the next day asking me to fill out the form with his name and info. I have no idea why, but I hesitated. I refused to fill it out until I talked to my husband one more time. When he got to the hospital that day, we walked to the nursery window and looked at our baby again. "I don't think he's a Justin", I said. "I think he's Tyler." And, so he was....and is. Thirty years later, he has many names, Ty, "T", Uncle T and more. He is still my baby.