What does this all mean anyways?

Today I decided to take my son to school then come home and go back to bed. What a concept! I read for a awhile, a new book I got yesterday called "Farm City" by Novella Carpenter. It chronicles her attempt at turning an abandoned lot next to her apartment in Oakland into a lush super-garden. While I am certainly intrigued and even vaguely inspired to get up and work on my own little 8x16 slice of paradise, I wonder how one stays motivated long enough to follow through on something like a little ECOSYSTEM. I also think I lack the patience to garden from seed--what is happening there under the ground where I can't see? Perhaps it is just more evidence of that very infantile ethos I oftentimes find myself working off of, which is most succinctly stated as "If I can't see it, it must not exist". I am WAY to into instant gratification for gardening.

So then I went to another blog I'm often interested in, that of Ayelet Waldman. I enjoyed her book "Bad Mother", and though I found her observations witty and insightful, I am bothered by what a sense of self promotion that I pick up in her writings. Perfect fodder for my restless mind on this foggy morning! I come to find that she doesn't have a blog-she Tweets! Everything you always wanted to say in 140 characters or less. Sheesh. What is our world coming to? So I read a few posts and all she's doing lately is complaining about air travel and the Marriot hotel chain. Wholly unsatisfying.

So I am left wondering, what does this all mean? What am I into? What am I passionate about? I honestly don't know, and I feel like any attempt I might make into trying some things out would render me nothing but a poser. I LIKE a lot of things, put I'm not passionate about any one thing. People who are passionate seem to easily cross the line into fanaticism....I don't want to be a one dimensional, crazy person! How can I be fully pour myself into something and be good at it without becoming obsessed? What does it all mean anyways??!

Home Run

Tonight, my son hit a home run. It was his first of this season, second ever. This is his last year in Little League, and if they had lost tonight, it would have been his last game. But they didn't. They won. This team, a modern day Bad News Bears, did not get a W until more than halfway through the season. They were terrible...awful....embarrassing even! To put it mildly, they stunk worse than that rotten oil catastrophe on the Deepwater Horizon. But unlike those bozos at BP, the Yankees have been able to put a cap on the disaster and will play tomorrow in the Semi-Finals.

More bizarre than the fact that the Yankees are actually playing like a well-oiled machine is the fact that I actually caught the home run on video! After not taking even one picture all season, I decided to take my Costco special down to the ol' fields tonight. I rode my bike, snapping pictures as the town whizzed by. During his second at bat, I decided I'd stand up on the water fountain (unsafe, and unsanitary I know) and try to get some tape of whatever might happen. I think it was the second pitch, and I'm always futzing with the camera, switching back and forth from video to photo, zooming in, zooming out-messing around so much that I usually miss whatever is happening completely. But oh no, not tonight! I got it! The pitcher's release, the crack of the bat, the flight of the ball, and of course Theo jogging ever so slowly around the bases, to come back to home with his team ecstatic over the run. It was great. And now, there will be at least one more game.

Meditation and Running-Strange Bedfellows Indeed

As I was running my last long run today before the half marathon I have coming up in 2 weeks, I had an interesting experience. I noticed that I ran a whole gamut of emotions during the course of my run-big emotions! At times I was bored. Excited. Angry. Motivated. Scared. Confident. Dejected. Doubtful. Happy. I seemed to swing wildly from one emotion to another, with no idea how I might feel in the next step compared to the last.

It was, truly, an exercise of trying to stay in the moment. And so it got me thinking about meditation, and how that very thing, the staying in the moment, is the purpose of a meditation practice. The idea is that you teach yourself to be still, witnessing all the thoughts and feelings that pass through you, while you learn to sit and be comfortable with them. It's like you're watching this movie, with all these intense things going on in it, but the movie is within you-you're every actor, every scene, every conflict, every resolution.

It was really quite a trip, this watching of my experience-and how badly I wanted it all to just go away. When running, for me that means to walk-to give into the pain and the doubt and just say 'Fuck it, I give up." I see that in life, when things get intense, we give up in all sorts of other ways. Ways that are even culturally acceptable, and may even be considered 'normal'. We turn on the TV, go on Facebook, have an affair, go shopping, yell at our kids/spouse/dog, buy yet another self help book, gossip, drink too much, overeat, oversleep... the list goes on and on. We do things that take us outside ourselves for that little bit of relief. But where does it really get us?

I've always been hard on myself for not being able to have a consistent meditation practice. I think it's something I 'should' be able to do. But maybe it's just too hard for me to sit still with all those emotions flitting through my head. Maybe I need the physical release of running to allow me to exorcise those demons and meet them head on in a more dynamic, physical way. Could going on a long run be a sustainable meditation practice?

Of Races and Babies

A few months ago I came up with this wacky idea to run 3 races in 3 months-Aptos Womens 5 Miler, Wharf to Wharf, and Falmouth Road Race. Each race increased distance by a mile, and with the help of somewhat consistent training and some bizarre new found skill called 'realistic goal setting', I was able to accomplish what felt like sucess in each.

What then happened is what I see happening in runners all around me (most notably my husband, who I've often derided for his lack of being able to be 'in the moment'). I started thinking about what my next race would be. I think it must be like a disease that lies dormant in your body, so you think it's gone and then WHAMMO it comes back with a vengeance. I mean, I was so grateful that last week before that last race that I WAS NEVER GOING TO HAVE TO TRAIN EVER AGAIN. What happened? Is it like childbirth, where you just forget how horrible and awful it was once you get put back together by the nice people at the finish line (the nurses), rehydrate (have night sweats so bad while you're breastfeeding you get in the shower every night at 2 am and drink all the water that's coming down because you're too tired to keep your mouth closed), eat a good meal (like one that consists of a piece of toast that has been sitting on the counter for 2 hours because you forgot to go back down to kitchen when the toaster popped after the baby needed to be nursed for the FOURTH time in an hour), and then thankfully, fall into a blissful sleep sore legs and all (aka sleep fitfully in your son's future toddler bed, breasts leaking, nipples burning, hoohoo aching, afraid to roll over as to not wake up that FINALLY sleeping baby)?

Yeah, it must be just like that.

Wow. Am I really finally writing this?

For months and months I've fantasized about starting a blog, but never could quite seem to pull the trigger.  Too pretentious, too busy, too boring, too many blogs already, who cares what I have to say anyways....  All valid reasons, but the idea keeps nudging me all the while.  

Mostly I want to write a blog to see if I can somehow circumvent my crumbling memory.  The idea is, if I have to write about it, then I must surely remember it, right?  I am forgetting things at an alarming rate.   Important things.  Like the insightful and intelligent things my 12 year old says. The pieces of wisdom I hear at meetings.  The details my mom tells me about her failing eyesight.  Birthdays, jokes, images from Hawaii, surfing, Nisene-they're all fair game in the wasteland of my mind.  And not so 'important' yet fairly crucial to the running of my life things I'm forgetting too.  Like to take my socks to work when I've worn flip flops in the morning.  Putting my paychecks in the bank.  Leaving my dog in her kennel when I walk to my truck to go home from work.  What I ran that 4 mile workout in last Tuesday that I want to compare to what I did today.   Not like big huge important things, but losing the details of my life is really starting to bug me.  

So the blog experience might be one part oral history, one part grocery list.  Some pictures thrown in here and there could help too, and maybe even some websites that I always mean to write down but never do. What was that movie where the guy was losing his memory (and his mind) and decided to write all the things he didn't want to forget on his skin?  Momento?  Memento?  Something like that...  I feel like that guy.  Who knows if it will help, but I'll give it a shot.