You’re All I Have

I subscribe to a runner’s list serve.  Most of the time, I just delete it all because I am so busy.  But today I paused to read what was posted and I cried.  Recent posts have described how much the members of the list love Cross Country and how much the sport has meant in their lives.  I never ran Cross Country.  I can’t relate.  Cross Country was my sister’s domain.  And that was before I learned that I can peacefully co-exist in the same space with my sister as a whole and complete person even if she runs faster than I do.

Today, a parent posted about a kid’s cross country meet he attended and how shocked he was that some parents were “over the top” with rules and times and competitiveness.  I reflected for a moment on the kids I coach.  My focus is on fun and low stress.  Building a love of a lifelong sport means everyone gets to play and celebrate their success.  And success comes from just showing up.  Success comes from setting your own goals and achieving them.  I want my kids to feel that.  Good about achieving their goals, no matter if their goals are different from their siblings.  And just showing up.

One of my buddies sometimes asks me why I don’t try harder when I run.  I could be so much faster, she implies.  But I love to run and I don’t love to run when I feel like I have to throw up.  When I run too fast, I feel like I have to throw up.  I would like to get the prize at the end of the race for “had the most fun.”  For me, that means giving the kids along the way a high five.  It means thanking the volunteers.  It means enjoying the view and admiring all the people who showed up.  What a great thing it is to show up.

Come, Heavy Sleep

13 years ago last month, Killer came into my life with his little brother and sister.  Rescued by a mailman after being abandoned in the summer heat on the west side of the city, we found them on a tip from the vet.  About six weeks old and fitting well into my cupped hand, Killer and his brother looked almost exactly alike.  Jet black with medium length hair.  Their sister was a calico.  I named him Killer so he would have a tough name.  Tough enough to kill the scorpions that infested our house on the edge of the desert mountain preserve.  These three were tough alright, but only Killer was tough enough to last all this time. He’s semi-retired now.  Somewhat smelly and missing a few teeth.  I like it when he curls up and sleeps on me as I sleep. 

Last night as I lay on my back sleeping soundly, he was curled up next to my right side.  I vaguely remember stirring in my sleep and absent-mindedly brushing at something that tickled the inside of my upper left arm.  Suddenly, I felt intense pain I had never known.  I screamed and jumped out of bed.  I ran to the sink to run my hand under cold water – not knowing what else to do.  As rationality seeped into my shocked brain, I told my husband I thought I might have been stung by a scorpion.  He had already turned on the light and indolently began to look for his shoes.  He nosed around in the covers as I explained that I had flicked at it, so it might be on the floor.  Only half an inch long and blending into the carpet, he found it and killed it. 

Not only that, but he had also memorized the phone number for poison control.  I called and they described exactly what I was feeling and what I would be going through for the next six hours, 24 hours, and two weeks.  They asked if I wanted to have them call back in an hour and I declined.  They said it would be fortunate if I were able to get back to sleep, but even if I did, the symptoms would still be there when I woke up. 

When I did wake up, I reflected on the experience of the night before.  I counted my blessings that the scorpion hadn’t stung my arm, my feet or legs, or gotten inside my clothes.  But should I get a new cat?

 

The Wall

I have met The Wall.  I am not friends with The Wall.  But I know The Wall.

This morning, I went running with Frank and Theresa’s group at 4:30.  I was going to meet up with Craig at 6:30.  I had to put in 20+ miles today – my last long run before Twin Cities.  Frank smoked me down to the turn around.  They were only going 13 miles today and he was setting a pace I knew I couldn’t sustain for 20.  In the back of my mind, I kept thinking that this wasn’t wise.  But the conversation was good and I had no idea how far back the ladies were.  I did not want to be on the canal in the dark by myself. 

After the turn around and waiting about five minutes or so for the ladies, the pace was not quite as fast, but two women dropped back.  I timed my arrival at Granada Park where Craig was giving a clinic almost perfectly.  He has a stress fracture, so I held out hope that he wouldn’t dust me today.  We set a good pace for the first five miles or so.  Then I started feeling like I was having difficulty.  Before I knew it, I was too hot.  I was well hydrated, I thought, but too hot.  I was suffering from too much travel that has adversely impacted my mid-week runs and poor eating habits yesterday.  I could no longer carry on the pleasant conversation.  I wished I could think of a topic to get Craig engaged in a monologue, but I couldn’t.  We were in the hills and Craig commented on how hilly it was.  I said that this is what I did to get ready for Twin Cities.  I needed to do hills at the end of a long run.  I can tell he’s not buying this philosophy.  Twin Cities is not that hilly. 

I kept forgetting to tell Craig the route and when I did, I frequently confused my left and my right.  Running along Stanford, I said “We turn right at 40th Street.”  He said “Right?  Do you mean left?”  I thought for a few steps.  Turning right made no sense at all.  “Yeah.  I mean left.”  A few more steps and I told him ” So we go down here to 40th Street and turn right.”

At the top of 44th Street, I had to walk.  How embarrassing.  Craig was very nice about it.  I was in trouble.  I told him that I couldn’t make it through the loop at the end and would have to go straight home.  I forget what it was that he said, but I realized that I couldn’t bail early.  I would be too angry when I got home.  On I trudged.  Getting a little worried that I was in trouble.  At 32nd Street, Craig was going to run North and I was going South.  Fearing he would be a little short, he offered to run South with me for a bit.  I had already planned on walking again.  I didn’t want him to see that.  So I insisted that he go North.  I walked.  I pulled my cell phone out of my pouch and called Bruce.  “I am in trouble.  Can you come pick me up?”  It was only a mile left to get home.  But I was done.  I had run 21.2 miles.

I’m Still Here

I woke up at 4:09 AM wishing I could sleep longer.  That’s only 1:09 in Phoenix time.  I was dressed, checked out, and in the cab by 4:27 AM.  The airport was as active as a bee hive, which surprised me.  I wonder why the people who live here seem to minimize their airport.  The software for the check-in kiosk for Continental needs some help from a usability tester.  But there was a helpful man there who pointed out where I was going wrong even though I hadn’t asked for help.  There was a line at security.  I was glad there was a Starbucks on the other side of security, because I wouldn’t be comfortable on the outside of security having my coffee.  Now it’s 5:22, 2:22 Phoenix time.  Plenty of time.  I don’t need to have a heart attack.

I am thinking today about trust-based systems and collaborative security models.  I am wondering what I am doing and why I seem so weighed down by the complex system I find myself working in.  I wonder why it is so difficult and scary to follow my passion.  I wonder why Continental has a flight from Norfolk, Virginia direct to Houston.  I wonder why that woman has quite so many carry-ons.

You Can’t Always Get What You Want

I had fun tonight.  I am at the MODSIM World 2007 conference and tonight other members of the education track and I walked to the beach.  It was about a mile and I am not sure the rest of the pack was as delighted as I was by the adventure.  But it was fun.  We then found a funky little place where one of us could get a steak.  Little did we know, there was live music and the guy was really good! 

We had an enjoyable walk back.  But when I got to the hotel, I learned that the air conditioner in my room isn’t working.  It’s 85 degrees right now with 50% humidity.  I called the front desk and they said that they would call Engineering.  An hour later, I called again to learn that Engineering went home 20 minutes ago.  I am SO angry.  It’s miserable.  I am going to take a cold bath.