After Life

Last night on the plane back to AR, I listened to the Phedippidations (http://www.steverunner.blogspot.com/) podcast titled "Life Should Be Long Enough."  The main idea of the podcast was that regular runners tend to be less afflicted with age associated disabilities than non-runners over time.  They are able to stay active longer in their lives, and spend less time at the end of their lives in a disabled condition.  But Steve took it one step farther and segued into the idea of an "afterlife."  I interpreted it to be a "so what - it's not important that you are living a longer life if you aren't doing anything with it" idea.  He played a portion of a debate that included Rabbi Schmuley Boteach (no I don't know who he is, but it was fascinating to listen to).  Link to entire debate:  http://www.iamplify.com/store/product_details/Rabbi-Shmuley-Boteach/Afterlife-Debate-With-Christopher-Hitchens/product_id/8621.  The debate focused on whether an afterlife exists. 

The rabbi used a different definition for afterlife  than I had ever considered.  He didn't come at it from a religious or spiritual perspective, but rather from the idea that our afterlife is what we leave here on earth.  Not literally, as in physical possessions, but our memories, our works, the things we accomplished in our lives that made the world a better place.

I'm not a religious person these days.  Organized religion doesn't hold much appeal for me, and the idea that there is one "true" religion to the exception of all other religions and their members just irritates me.  But the idea of an afterlife in the present, one that doesn't require suspension of belief and strange mental contortions was oddly comforting.  Obviously, this is no different from the concept of a legacy - I get that.  But I took his point to mean that instead of focusing on an afterlife of pearly gates and eternal reward, we should instead focus on the here and now, concentrate on what we can do while we are living on this earth, and deal with the afterdeath, after death.  That, to me, makes complete sense.  No one knows what happens when you die.  There's not a lot of point in trying to consider it, nor in trying to guess what happens; we're all going to find out sooner or later, and there's really not much point in thinking about it now.  But the idea of doing what we can while we still walk the earth?  We can do something about that.  We can take steps to improve our families, our communities, our lives, our world.  These are things we have some modicum of control over and maybe we should take advantage of that.

I'm totally guilty of doing exactly the opposite of what I just wrote, and that can cause lot of internal tension.  One of the things on my list of "what I want to accomplish in my life" includes getting intimately involved in something that will leave the world a better place, something I believe in and sincerely care about.  I have yet to identify what that is, and that's really no excuse.  I have some ideas floating around about what I want to get involved in, but the timing isn't right yet, for various reasons.  But there will come a point when the time is right and the activity is right, and I'm looking forward to that.  In the meantime, I'm trying to raise my kids to be good decent adults, I try to be a decent person, and I'm trying to pay more attention to the small things - holding doors open, picking up things that fall, going out of your way to help just a little.  It helps make my day a little brighter, too.

Is it Already Wednesday?

Holy cow it's been a crazy week.  Flew to Houston on Monday, worked like mad, fought off some crazy demon headache both Monday and Tuesday, flew home last night, and I'm settling in this morning for what promises to be another busy day.  I work in litigation, and there's something about this profession that runs in cycles, both macro and micro.  There are general waves, where the work is light to the point you get worried, and then things pick up again and you wonder how you will get it all done.  You'll see this in terms of years or maybe 6 month periods.  But the same thing happens on a weekly and sometimes daily basis - three weeks ago I was completely dead, and right now I have more than I know what to do with.  It's just the nature of the beast, but sometimes I wish the beast wouldn't be quite so manic/depressive.

At any rate, I have more to post but I've got to delve into the day.  Plan on posting later (lunch maybe?) about some stuff I thought about on the plane ride last night.

Falling Down

I haven't run (or exercised at all) since Tuesday, which means it'll be a week tomorrow.  I've had a cold for the last several days, and I guess that's part of it, but I also haven't had the motivation.  I find that I go through cycles where exercising is easy, and I want to do it, and it feels good, and I can't imagine ever not running or doing something on a regular basis.

And then I come crashing back down.

I go through times like now, when I honestly just don't want to move.  The weather is great, it's perfect running weather, but I just can't seem to find the motivation and energy to get out and go.  Sometimes I think it's good to let yourself go through a "slump" or a rest time, but the problem is figuring out when you really need a break and when you are just being lazy.  Right now, I'm not sure which one applies, but I'm thinking I'm just being lazy.  But apparently I don't feel badly enough about it to get out and run yet.

We'll see how I feel tomorrow.  The headache from hell is subsiding, but it's not far enough gone yet for me to want to move around very much.

The weekend was fast and furious.  Friday night we had pizza with my folks, Saturday we watched the Hogs play Alabama and lose in a frustrating game.  We hung out with some friends, took the kiddos to get yogurt, and I did the piles of laundry that had built up over the week.  Joy.  We kept the windows open all weekend long and the fresh air coming through the house was so incredibly nice. 

Saturday night, J and I watched Inglourious Basterds.  I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I'm pretty sure that wasn't it.  It is Quentin Tarrantino, so I did expect a lot of blood and gratuitous violence.  But aside from that, I'm not sure what he was going for there.  A different historical outcome, and kind of "what if" for WWII?  It just seemed kind of pointless, and while a lot of entertainment is pointless (there probably wasn't any real point to Pulp Fiction but I still enjoyed the hell out of it), it just seemed less enjoyable because of that.  At any rate, we made the mistake of watching it right before bed - very bad idea.  Two hours after we went to bed, we were still trying to go to sleep.  When your kiddos get up around 7am, it's generally not a great idea to be awake at 2am.  So Sunday was a bit of a rough day.

So now it's Monday.  Back to real life, back to traveling.  I'm tired of traveling right now.  I think I'm just tired in general.  Maybe tomorrow will feel better.

Caffeine Anyone?

Typically busy weekend, back in Houston for another few days.  This time I'm hoping it is only for a day or two.  I was seriously wishing I could mainline some diet coke this morning - I had a 6:30am flight out of LR, and I woke up with a migraine-ish headache.  Still trying to kill it with caffeine and meds, but nothing's working yet. 

At any rate, too busy to post this weekend but plan on updating later today.

The White Ghost

I drove back from Houston last night, got a very late start so it was a hard drive.  It was after 6 before I cleared the north side of the city, so it was well after midnight before I made it home.  I did a lot of flipping radio stations last night, and at some point I hit a station that played a lot of late 70s / 80s / classic rock stuff.  It reminded me of something that happened when I was back in high school - one of those memories that sort of helps define a time in your life.

I had one of those friends in high school who was an absolute confidante and soul mate.  You know, the kind that you talked to on the phone at least an hour every single night, and three hour conversations weren't unusual.  Which meant that you never got enough sleep, but it was totally worth it.  I couldn't imagine my life without him, and it almost took my breath away to think there would be a time in my life where I wouldn't be able to talk with him daily. 

Anyway.  One night he was at my house and it was time for him to head home.  I told my mom that I'd be back in half an hour and I drove him back to his house in my car.  This was probably around 10 that night I'd guess.  We sat outside his house in the car, finishing whatever conversation we'd started, with the radio going.  Whatever station it was got on an absolute roll with the music.  We're talking Styx, Elton John, Billy Joel, Eagles, Journey, all sorts of stuff that just makes you want to sit in the car and listen to what's coming next, especially at that point in your life.  (See, this was the early 90s, the days before Ipods and easily writeable CDs and mp3s.  Some of that might have existed, but all I had was maybe a 1 disc player and a bunch of cassettes.)  So guess what we did - we sat in the car, listening to what came next, singing to all these killer songs, and talking when we weren't singing.  Our lives were on the cusp of change, college was looming, friendships were changing, and I suppose this was our way of making sense out of the tumult that high school is.  That night is one of my clearest, and probably one of my very favorite, high school memories.  For a few hours, all that really mattered was whatever important topic we were discussing, and what the next song on the radio was going to be.

As we sat out there, not quite ready to call it a night, it got later and later and later (imagine that) ... and the next thing we knew, there was a white car that oh-so-slowly pulled into his cul de sac, inched by my car, turned around in the cul de sac, and headed back the way it had come.  (Again, early 90s, well before we all had cell phones.)  It was my mom's car, and it was well after 1 am, and MUCH later than the half hour I had told her I would be gone.  Did I mention that I was still in high school?  Would it matter if I said that this guy and I really were just awesomely good friends?  Yeah.  Looks good, doesn't? 

He got this stricken look on his face, nearly gave himself a concussion getting out of my car (he was tall, I had a small car), and sprinted into his house, probably petrified that someone was going to come after with him with a shotgun.

I started the engine and drove home.  My parents were pretty reasonable and I rarely gave them reason to question what I was doing.  Still, the whole situation just looked bad.  My mom was still up and she explained that she was concerned that I hadn't gotten back after an hour or so and wanted to make sure I was safe.  I promised to try not to do that again, and that was the end of it.  Again - one of those events that reminds you that you are getting older and your life is about to change as you get more and more freedom to make your own choices.

When I saw him the next day, he said he had had nightmares all night about my mom's car, which he dubbed The White Ghost, and wondered if my parents had a contract out on him yet.  Of course they didn't, and of course it was all fine and time moved on and our conversations got less frequent and less in-depth and eventually nights like that didn't happen anymore.  But I'm so glad we had The White Ghost to remember that night by, and to help me remember what it was like to be 16 and on the cusp of my life.

A few years later, we managed to kill The White Ghost on a drive across the country for a ski trip.  But that's another story. 

This n' That

It has been a busy couple of days!  Had sushi and some good wine the other night with a couple of friends, work has been going crazy, and life goes on.  Back in LR for today and the weekend, thank goodness.  I cannot wait for the cool front to come through - I love the first few cool nights of the year when you can open the windows and let the fresh air clear the summer's staleness from the house. 

I have a couple of posts in mind, but will have to wait until a little later in the day; things are just too busy this morning. 

Summer Colds and The Lazy

Did the drive down to Houston last night.  I mentioned in an earlier post that I really don't mind driving too much - most of the time it's pretty relaxing.  I get a chance to listen to some new music, catch up on podcasts, let my mind wander to things it needs to think about.  Last night was a bit more tiring than usual, probably because I'm coming down with one of those fun summer cold thingys.  That's a technical term, by the way.  At any rate, it was an uneventful drive, which is always a good thing.   

Every time I come down here, the differences between Houston and Little Rock smack me in the face.  The fragrant landfill odor on the north side of the city, as you come in on 59.  The lack of any sort of night sounds (frogs, crickets, bugs - you know, the noises that drive you batty in an Arkansas summer).  The humidity that makes you wonder why people on the gulf coast aren't born with gills.  Believe me when I say that Houston beats LR hands down, no comparison, end of game on higher humidity.  Somehow, I don't think LR is losing anything here.  On the flip side, Houston does have LR pretty well beat on the restaurant scene, though.  There is some damn good food down here. 

Nope, that has nothing to do with why I try to exercise and run.  Nada, zip, move along, nothing to see here. 

Speaking of running, I did manage to get a 3 miler in yesterday.  I'm trying to decide if I want to get one in today, too, but I'm feeling pretty lazy.  I could play softball tonight with some friends, but see:  the lazy.  Most likely I'll just go have dinner and wine with a friend and collapse in bed at a stupidly early hour.  Just another day in the exciting life of a traveling, working mom in her mid 30s.

The Cliffs of Insanity

In my 20s, I went through a hard time - maybe a quarter life crisis?  I was starting my chosen profession with a ton of pressure, I was trying to figure out whether a work-life balance was possible, everything was a struggle, and I couldn't quite figure out what the hell was going on.  I had everything lined up perfectly, I had a job that many people would have killed for as a young lawyer, practicing the kind of law I wanted to practice, making great money, and I should have been 100% happy with what I had.

Instead, I was miserable - more miserable than I had ever been in my entire life. 

I have this clear memory of looking over the cliffs of insanity one morning during that time.  I was on the flip side of the crisis.  I was beginning to make some progress on why I was miserable and maybe was seeing a little light at the end of the tunnel.  But for whatever reason, that morning I felt like I had been sucked under again and was once again fighting the same old demons.  I was walking through my office that morning, and suddenly felt the razor-thin edge of sanity.  It was as simple as that.  The planks of reality that made up my foundation - the assumption that goals mattered, that there was a point to the things I did every day, that there was even a reason for anyone to care about this life - splintered for a a few seconds, and the only thing left was a roaring rushing wind in my head, and the feeling that I was about to go spinning out into a void.  It was an utterly desolate, despairing feeling, and it was hard to believe that I'd ever feel good - or feel anything, really - again. 

I've only felt something similar to that once or twice since that day, and while I'm grateful it doesn't happen often, it does remind me every now and then to re-examine my life.  That time - be it a depression, a crisis, an episode, whatever - occurred because I hadn't learned how to really examine my life and ask myself what I wanted, as opposed to what I thought I should want.  These are two very different things, and sometimes I need a reminder to really think through decisions I make, just to be certain that it is what I really want, and not just what I think I should want.  It's a small, but very important distinction.

Sharpening the Edge

Ah, another Monday morning.  Kiddos are off at school, and things are about to get insane at work for the next week or two.  Thrilling.  Probably some more travel in my near future.

I feel like I've spent several months (maybe years?) in a holding pattern of sorts in my life.  I haven't exactly fallen backward, but I'm not moving forward, either.  It's just sort of a stagnant feeling, a relaxing - a dulling of the edge.  I'm thinking it's time to break out of that.  Maybe attempt something new, take a step forward, take a risk, etc.  I'm trying to read more books, fill my spare time (ha ha, such as it is) with things that are engaging and make me think.  Granted, there are definitely times when you want to unplug and quit thinking.  I think those times are totally necessary, just like fluffy books and reality TV.  But if you do it too much, you end up making it a habit instead of a break, and that's what I've been doing. 

So it's time to break out.  I'm trying to think of ways to challenge myself, remember what it's like to pursue a goal.  I'm just not sure what goal I want to set out there for myself.  Starting a blog was one (well, really, just starting to write more - this was an easy way to do that), but what else?  What else can I use as a springboard to break out of whatever slump I'm in?  I just feel like I've let myself get lazy, and I'm not liking that feeling.  There are far too few days in our lives to get lazy.  I need to sharpen my edge.

Busy Weekend

Wow, crazy weekend.  I played a couple of mixed doubles matches this weekend (my team was in the state tournament; unfortunately, we didn't win), went to a birthday party with the kiddos, ran 6 miles today, watched the Hogs win, did a little socializing, and a few other things I'm sure I'm forgetting.  It's now 5pm on Sunday, and the things that are still left on the to-do list before the weekend is over is frightening.  Laundry, meal planning, house cleaning...sigh.

Today's run focused on getting some hills in.  I ran across the Big Dam Bridge twice, just trying to get a little hill training started.  I think instead of doing the LR Marathon, a good friend and I may do the Hogeye Marathon up in Fayetteville in the spring.  Holy cow, the hills are going to kick my ass, but I'll be in great shape for it, right?  Right?   I spent the  run listening mostly to an episode of Phedipidations (sp), a running podcast.  It was the first time I've run to something other than music, and I really enjoyed it. 

The upcoming week promises to be really busy.  Work has gotten busier in the last few days, and I'm sure there is another trip to Houston on the horizon.  Plus, in a few weeks I'll be making a trek to Fayetteville to spend some time with my three best friends from college - woo hoo!

Finally, can Arkansas please get the memo that it is now FALL, and cut the 90+ degree weather every day?  Please?  It's time for fall already. 

Now What?

I managed to get a run in yesterday while my girl was in her gymnastics class.  There are some treadmills nearby at the community center, so I jumped on one and got about 3 miles in while she was busy wearing herself out and loving it.

While running, I listened to a podcast from Slate, a book review/book club on The Omnivore's Dilemma, by Michael Pollan.  I read this several months back and it stuck with me, so I figured I'd listen to what some other folks had to say about it.  I don't want to talk about the book itself, though; I want to talk about one of the reviewer's comments.  The Slate conversation proposed the idea that it was frivolous to spend so much time thinking about food.  A reviewer made a comment along the lines of how abundance and plenty can leads to enervation and depression.  Although the context in the Slate discussion was primarily food, it reminded me of something that happened several years ago.

When we lived in Houston, we had a good group of friends that we hung out with.  We met when we had all recently graduated college, were in an unfamiliar city, and were just getting started on our "grown up" lives.  A few folks knew each other from college, but most of us were strangers who became good friends over time.  About five years after we all ended up in Houston, our group had gotten together one night at someone's house to have dinner.  There were probably 8 or 10 of us there that night, and we were in the kitchen talking about how our lives were different from when we had met five years ago.  We were no longer the recent college grads scraping together dollars for dinner or worried about every cent we spent or how we did in in that tough class and whether we'd get that interview.  Nor were we really worried about where we were headed in life.  We were all in our mid to late 20s, had defined career paths, decent jobs, no kids at that point, and seemed to be well on our way to a 'successful life.' 

You would think that this would make all of us content and happy and relieved that at least some struggles were behind us, right?  But I remember one of the guys talking about the feeling of "now what?"  He made the point that if he wanted to go out to dinner, he did - and he could do that most nights, and it wasn't any big deal, it didn't require balancing the budget or being overly concerned about where he went.  He decided what and where he wanted to eat, and he went.  There was no planning on Monday to eat out on Friday and looking forward to it all week, as we had all done in college.  There was nothing about the eating out experience that made it special anymore, and that took a lot of the fun out of it.  I think everyone in that room was nodding as he talked about this feeling.  That applied to a lot of things in our lives at that point.  We had the things we needed, we had most of the things we wanted at that time, and we had come to the point of "now what?" 

I wonder if sometimes we (people in general) don't make crazy decisions, do crazy things, change things up when it's not really necessary, just to escape the "now what" feeling.  And I wonder if that's not a completely valid thing to do.  We all know people who have left fantastic jobs, made what we think are crazy decisions, done things that make us say "I could (or would) never do that."  People who seemingly had everything, but just weren't happy with what they had, so they changed things up.  Sometimes those decisions are called irrational, but I wonder if it isn't that person's way of avoiding the "now what" type feeling, the lethargy that comes with having things wrapped up in a neat little bow?  Of course, I'm making a lot of assumptions here, but I think the idea of enervation, discontent, depression going hand in hand with plenty, when "plenty" is what our society strives for, is interesting.

Thoughts on Lives on the Boundary

I finished Mike Rose's Lives on the Boundary last night on the flight back to LR.  It was extremely well written, and a very enjoyable read.  It never dragged nor did it ever get preachy, due at least in part to the way he interlaces his philosophy on education with anecdotes and personal history. 

Although there is a portion at the end of the book that has been updated, the book itself was originally published in the early 1980s.  I was surprised to realize this about 3/4 of the way through the book, because it still feels very relevant.  In fact, it may be even more so now, as the education system in the country places even greater emphasis on testing and scores than it did when the book was originally written.

Rose makes several conclusions in his book based on his own history (he was labeled a slow learner at one point due to a mix up in test scores) and his experiences in the classroom.  He doesn't believe that students are required to have the foundations of the English language mastered before they begin writing.  He doesn't believe that the typical methods of learning that occur in high school and earlier successfully prepare students for the critical thinking expected at higher levels of education.  But perhaps most importantly, he believes that illiteracy is very frequently not a problem of intelligence at all, but instead a problem of access.  Not necessarily access to the written word itself, but access to the traditional thought processes that are used to define literacy.  Those processes being, for example, the ability to answer questions correctly on certain types of tests, or the ability to write grammatically correct sentences.

His anecdotes discuss individuals who have been designated slow learners, remedial, or given various other labels often used to define those who don't quite 'get it' as easily as the rest of the class.  Rose shows that for many of these individuals, once you address the true underlying problem, you begin to see that intelligence is not the real issue.  Rather, a lack of background, foundation, or a simple misunderstanding of the rules of how the game is played are often more to blame for the labels these individuals are given.

I'm guessing that this book, when published, probably didn't buy him a lot of friends in the education field.  He challenges many assumptions and traditions that have shaped our current education system.  I think the section I most enjoyed revolved around higher eduction and the traditional college or university.  His discussion about the tension between a college's need for enrollment numbers (read: increased tuition) versus that same college's need to keep its focus on higher education (read: maintain the academic elite) underscores some vitally important - and controversial - questions about higher education:  should higher education be available to everyone?  If not, to whom should it be available?  What percentage of our population do we want to attain higher education? 

Of course, there are many other topics he covers in the book, and I will probably come back to some of them, but I wanted to get these thoughts down while they were still fresh. 

Princess of the Eggs

Last night the crew picked me up from the airport.  On the drive back to the house, the kiddos were bouncing off the walls excited, partly because I was back in town, but mostly just because they were out and about after their bedtime.  At one point, the girl started talking about how she wants to be a princess when she grows up.  I'm sure there are no other 4 year old girls with that same dream.

Anyway.  J started asking her if she wanted to be a princess so she'd get to wear the cool hats (?) and clothes.  I'm not that crazy about reinforcing the importance of clothes, so I asked her directly why she wanted to be a princess when she grows up.  I figured the answer might well be clothes, or the hair, or maybe getting to hang with other princesses - who knows.  Her answer to me?

"I want to be a princess when I grow up so that I can turn you into a chicken and eat lots of eggs!"

Split second pause.  Then the car nearly burst apart with laughter.  It was awesome. 

Bullets

Not a lot of time to write today, I have to head out in a little while to catch a flight back to LR.  Didn't get my run in this morning, but I'm ok with that.  I'll get one in tomorrow if I don't get one in later tonight (doubtful).  I've got a tennis tournament this weekend, so we'll see if I actually get a long run in over the weekend...  The official training schedule starts next week, so I'm in my last few days of slackerhood, might as well enjoy it. 

Anyway, things on my mind in bullet format:

• Astros won again last night, they've really put together an impressive last quarter of the season.  Maybe they'll be able to keep it up next year for the entire season! 
• I need to figure out a way to organize my digital photographs.  I've been putting that little task off for a long time, but I'd like to put together some albums for my kiddos since they don't really have a baby book.  Crafty I'm not.
• I'm ready to get the flight tonight over with.  I really am not crazy about flying, I much prefer to drive if it's possible.  I know lots of people who don't like to drive, but really - what's not to like about several hours by yourself, in total command of the radio???  It gives me time to think, and I enjoy it.

More substance tomorrow.

First Steps

So my Astros won last night, the seats were fantastic, and it was a thoroughly enjoyable night.  Unfortunately for me, I indulged a bit too much in the vino and ended up paying for it this morning.  It's funny - the older I get, the more careful I have to be about drinking.  I think I had 3 glasses of wine over about 5 hours last night (along with a pretzel and pizza, too - gotta have the ballpark food) but I paid for it dreadfully this morning.  Sometimes even one glass can cause a bad reaction; I'm not sure if I'm developing a later-in-life allergy, if my stomach just can't handle the stuff, or what.  It's damned frustrating.

But anyway.  The plan for today is to finish up at work and head to a different set of friends to crash tonight.  I'm hoping to get a short run in this evening, but it'll depend on how well I feel after work today. 

Ben Does Life Video
I came across this video this morning (assuming I linked to it correctly).  I've actually followed his blog/tumblr for nearly a year I think, and have sincerely enjoyed it.  The video, which is a chronicle of his weight loss and foray into fitness (and extreme fitness maybe?), is very motivational.  I think the message comes through so clearly at the end - when you decide to do something, just do it.  Just go do it. 

Sometimes it's so hard to just get started on something because there are always handy excuses.  "I don't have time today," "I'll kick it off on Monday," "I need to prepare more," etc.  I find that sort of thing happens to me a lot.  Sometimes I have to remind myself to just get started already.  Take the first step, write the first page, begin the first conversation with someone new.  Just start.    

Last spring, I got tired of listening to myself make these excuses.  I had been wanting to start running regularly for a long time, and, judging from the way my clothes were fitting, I needed to start doing something.  Although my first love in sports is tennis, it is harder to fit that into a day; it requires more prep, another person, and a longer period of time.  Running, however, just requires a good pair of shoes and a set of running clothes.  So at some point last spring, I loaded up my Ipod, bought a good pair of shoes and started running. 

Now, until a few years ago, the idea of running for fitness, just running, seemed ludicrous.  I have hated running for as long as I can remember.  I'm not a naturally fast runner at all.  My softball coach used to call me "molasses".  My tennis coach always remarked on how slow I was.  I was always bringing up the rear in a group run after tennis practice.  And I hated. every. minute.  I dreaded the days we had those runs scheduled.  I dreaded the soreness that would come for several days after - the kind of soreness that makes it agony to sit down and stand up, and makes a set of stairs loom in front of you like a nightmare.

But I sort of figured that I was at least 15 years removed from that crap, and it was probably OK for me to let go of those negative voices.  So I started running.  [There is an often heated debate about whether you are running or jogging, and how fast you have to go to graduate from jogging - screw that.  My legs are moving at a rate faster than a walk, my heart rate is up, I maybe going slower than you - but I'm running as far as I'm concerned, and I don't really care if you think I'm jogging.  I'm not doing this for you.]  It took several stops and starts to get to the point where I could do a mile, and then two and three miles.  Nor will I ever claim to run any of them even remotely close to fast.  But after a while, three miles was a normal run, and it felt like a good distance.  It quieted the voices in my head that told me I could be doing better for my body, better for my health. 

But my three miles then spun out into longer and longer distances, and culminated in a couple of half marathons.  I'm shooting for the LR marathon in the spring, if I can stay injury free.  Reading blogs and seeing videos like the one I posted above are so inspirational - it reminds me every day to just get out there and do it.  Even if I backslide a little bit, I can always start again.  Today, tonight, right now - even if I missed the last three runs, I can start over right now and keep going.  Same thing with writing, which I'm trying to do more of.  Even if I miss a day, even if I feel like I don't have anything to say (which is fine 'cause I don't think anyone's reading anyway!)- just start.  Just take the first step and go from there, because you really don't know where you are going to end up - maybe in hopes for a marathon from someone who has always detested and sort of feared running. 

Just start.

Traveling Monday

I'm traveling for a few days this week.  It's always hard to leave the fam and hit the road, although I usually enjoy it once I get on my way.  So I hit the road WAY too early this morning (6:30am flight out of LR airport) and am fighting some afternoon sleepiness.

When I travel, it is usually to Houston for work.  Fortunately, I have several friends here and usually try to spend time with them when I'm here.  Tonight there is a baseball game on the agenda.  My Astros have not had a great year, but they've been showing a bit of life here in the last month.  At least there's some hope for next season...  At any rate, a friend of mine has tickets, so we're going to head out there for some ballpark food and drinks a little later.  Totally looking forward to it.

I grew up watching baseball - I watched and/or listened to the St. Louis Cardinals with my dad for many years.  I can clearly remember watching the pivotal (blown) call at first base during one of the World Series games in the 80s - if you watched the Cards during that time, you know which one I'm talking about.  Man, you would have thought someone had died at our house that night.  After spending 10 years in Houston, though, it was hard not to root for the hometown team.  Not to mention that we were here during some of the most exciting seasons the Astros have ever had.  Hell, the main reason we have cable these days is to watch the Stros play.

My son plays t-ball and loves watching MLB.  Now, for some inexplicable reason, he adores the Texas Rangers (American League, are you kidding me?  WTH?), so we have to compromise between the Stros and the Rangers if both teams are playing.  Fortunately, he also loves the Cardinals, especially Pujols, so all hope is not lost.  I love that he is so into it.  He tosses the ball around while the games are on and "runs the bases" around our sofa.  Now I just have to figure out how to convince him to swear allegiance to the National League...

Self Censorship

Went for a nice 6 mile run this morning, it was a beautiful run. I'm building up mileage right now after being injured for several months, and it's nice to start getting some longer runs in. I've not been running consistently for very long, only a little over a year, but I have come to enjoy the mental process that comes with the long runs - not to mention the post run meals and snackage!

One of the (many) things that crossed my mind on the run was something a friend of mine said the other day. She said that the only time she had ever felt free to say whatever she wanted was in college - the rest of her life, she's had to take into consideration her audience, the topic, whether she might be closing future doors, etc. It was almost like she was saying that college was the only time she's ever felt free to be who she really is.

I sort of rolled that thought around this morning, wondering what that means, exactly. I can remember times in my life where I would put many restrictions on my conversations with other people, sometimes to the point where I rarely said anything. Sometimes it was fear of being judged for what I was about to say, sometimes it was just feeling unqualified to add anything, sometimes it was disagreeing with the conversation but not wanting to rock the boat. This was often frustrating, and left me feeling on the edges of life.

At a certain point in my life, though, I feel like I sort of figured out who I was. I certainly don't have all the answers, nor do I think that once I've got that figured out, I'm never going to change. But I feel like once you've figured out who you really are, it becomes nearly impossible to revert to stifling your voice. If you are comfortable with who you are, what you think, what you believe in, it seems like the rest of the crap slides away.

That doesn't mean I never censor my thoughts. Hells no. There is a time and a place for various conversations, and there are some things that simply don't need to get said. The politics of life sort of dictate some tact, discretion, and the occasional silence. But does that sort of censoring mean you are not being true to who you really are? How do you know when your self censorship crosses a line from being tact or discretion to stifling your own voice?

Eh. That's probably too heavy a topic for a beautiful day. The Hogs won last night, a cool front is coming through, and there is good tennis on TV right now. Time to go enjoy...

Reminders

I woke up in a bad mood this morning - craptacular is probably a good work for it. Not for any particular reason, I'm not really sure what triggered it. J and I slogged through some morning chores (breakfast for the kiddos, cleaning up the kitchen, taking out the recycling), and I was less than pleasant to be around. My kids, knowing that I get irritable when I don't eat, told me I should eat something. Great.

After visiting the recycling center, the boy child wanted to have a lunchtime picnic at a nearby lake. My first inclination was to say no, but I didn't really have a good reason. It was time for lunch, and J and I didn't have a better idea, so we agreed.

We put together some sandwiches, drinks, chips and cookies at the house, and headed out to the lake. It has finally started cooling off here in central Arkansas, and the air today feels comfortable, making a picnic sound better than the hellish outing it would have been 2 weeks ago. We settled in at a picnic table at a local lake, everyone happily munching their sandwiches, the kiddos very content with their chips and juice boxes.

Sitting at the lake, you could tell that the light has made the shift from "high summer" to "early fall" around here, softening the shadows and giving the sky darker shades of blue that remind you of your childhood fall afternoons. The humidity has eased a bit, and the air was easy to breathe. I reminded myself once again that this - this afternoon, this picnic lunch, this time with the family and kids - was why J and I moved back to this area. We left a large, economically thriving city with a ton of culture and diversity, and I know many of our friends thought we were nuts.

But this. This is why we left that city. This lazy afternoon where we didn't have to drive 30 minutes to get to a nice lake. This clean, breathable air that reminds you only that fall is on the way, and is not reminiscent of industry and landfills. This environment where I don't feel I need to be the hoverparent, and where in fact that is out of the ordinary. Where I can lose sight of the kiddos for a few minutes and not feel worry and panic descend on me immediately. These things have such value to me.

After spending a couple of hours at the lake, the kiddos playing with some friends, J and I enjoying a talk with some other parents who have become friends, I finally shook the funk I woke up with. Sometimes I just need to remind myself that I'm exactly where I need to be right now. This is the life I live, and I'm so lucky that it is the life I want to live.

An Educational Experience

I am in a book club that meets every month or two. Recently, several of us gathered to discuss The Other Wes Moore, by Wes Moore. The book itself, which I'd definitely recommend, discusses the lives of two young men with the same name who grew up in very similar, difficult circumstances, but had drastically different outcomes in their lives. One of the topics discussed at length in the book (and among our group last night) was the educational experiences the two boys encountered. Both boys started at very rough, poor schools, and moved around to other schools as their parents tried to provide them with better educations and better chances at life.

I grew up in Arkansas. As a state in general, Arkansas has never enjoyed a very favorable reputation in other states. For those of you who grew up in this area, you are familiar with the "well, at least we aren't Mississippi" refrain that is often repeated. I'm sure Mississippi probably says the same thing about us. The two states often compete for who will come in last versus next to last of the 50 states in many different categories (population below the poverty line, number of people with advanced degrees in the state, median income). True or not, the education system is often looped into this notion that our state is fighting a battle to avoid last place, be it with Mississippi or some other state.

For as long as I can remember (since it started before I was born), the schools in the central Arkansas area have been under "deseg" - orders to desegregate supervised by the federal court system. From what I understand - and I'm sure that is very little of the entire picture - schools in our area still receive millions of dollars of federal funding from the government each year to assist with desegregation efforts. This money provides schools with programs and funding that the schools wouldn't otherwise receive; whether these funds could be replaced by other means is questionable.

Speaking from what I feel is an outsider's perspective, the idea that our schools still need desegregation, still need to be under a court's supervision, initially feels ludicrous. It has been around 50 years since Central High was integrated; shouldn't the school boards and the legislators have figured out how to stabilize the education system by this point in time? Should the federal government still provide what appears to be an 'incentive' to continue operations under court supervision? Deseg was discussed a great deal when I was in high school 15 or more years ago; I did not follow Arkansas education after high school or after I left the state, so it caught me off guard when I returned and found it just as much a hot button topic as it was when I left.

There were several women last night who had definite opinions on deseg and the education system - and all knew much more than I do about how the Arkansas education system works, where the funds are needed and whether deseg is still necessary. They seemed to think it is certainly still a necessity, and I'm not inclined to argue, as I know so little at this point. However, I think what bothers me the most about the whole thing is that it falls under the label of desegregation, but I wonder if now it isn't a case of socioeconomics as much as race. I guess maybe the two are so intermingled that it is naive to think about one without the other...?

Someone made the point that when it is your child that you are worried about, and you are forced to narrow your focus from a broader good to your child, your decision is practically made for you. Perhaps that is the crux of the problem. For those with kids, we all want the best for them; some folks are in circumstances where they have the luxury of choices - which neighborhood to live in for which public school, which private school to choose, etc. Sometimes that means ignoring the situations of other families and children who do not have the luxury of choice, or the ability to have their voice heard.

I'm not sure what the solution is - or if there even is one, apart from breaking the system down and starting from scratch (more than one person suggested that). I do know that I want my kids to experience people from all different backgrounds and all different cultures. I feel that public school is more likely to give them that experience, something that I think will be invaluable as the world continues to shrink. But I'm not sure how you fix a system where there is apparently not even enough money to buy books for high schoolers to take home for homework each night.

My oldest is not yet in grade school, so I guess I have a pass for now - but it's a very short-lived pass.

Beginning Post

Today is September 10, 2010. Seems like a good day to start a blog.

I've been reading blogs for several years now, and have been amazed at the quality of writing I often find. I also love the idea of having an online journal to look back at as time continues to fly by faster and faster. These are the things that have inspired me to give this a try.

I am a wife and mother of 2 kiddos. I work outside the home full time, sometimes from home, sometimes in an office. I spent about 10 years living out of state in a large city with my husband before moving to central Arkansas a few years ago. We both grew up here, still have family here, and feel like it will be a good place for our kids to grow up.

I'm not yet sure what my writing will focus on here, but that's ok. I love to read, so I'll probably talk about books I've been reading. I also try to exercise often, so I imagine that will come up as well. Obviously, the kiddos take up a good portion of my 'free' time these days - I have a 5.5 year old boy and a 4 year old girl. They are (obviously) incredible, wonderful, fascinating kids. I'm married to my high school sweetheart, we've been married somewhere over 12 years now, and we still have tons of fun together.

So let's see where this thing goes...