Day 8 -- Where I'm From

Who is this elderly woman who wants to run like a 20-year-old? All I know is I'm the same "me" that I've always felt myself to be. When I think of being outdoors and of being in motion, my thoughts are as ancient and as familiar to me as my own face in the mirror. I remember being out in our big front yard, playing with my sisters. Climbing trees. Playing hide and seek. I remember going to Pyramid Lake; at seven years old I was allowed to walk (and run!) as far down the beach as I wanted, and I wanted to go far. (There was no one else there but us.) The world was a mystery to me, a miraculous mystery of sun and shadow and green and brown--of mountain and lake and desert. Always desert, growing up in Nevada.

One beautiful thing about being really young is that it takes no effort to be in the now. When you're the age I was when this picture was taken, the now is all you know. Take a look at this little girl. That's where I'm from.

My grandmother said to me once, "I never dreamed I would get this old." I was probably 12 years old when she said it, and she might have been 75. I felt impatient at hearing that. It was a "no duh" moment for me--I mean, everyone gets old, right? Not surprising, Grandma.

But now I know. It is a surprise. Getting old is something that happens, all right, but to, well, old people. With luck, I'll learn this first hand someday. Just not yet. I'm only getting old, right? I've heard it said that old is always 10 years ahead of where you are. Sounds good to me.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Trying to Make Lemonade

Image
What am I meant to learn from the challenges being thrown at me these days? That I am strong. That I am loved. That life goes on and can be good. My favorite nephew congratulated me for making lemonade when I'd been handed lemons--not sure his belief about me is justified, but I deeply appreciate the notion. Plus, I have an actual lemon tree in front of the house, so I've been practicing my tangy-beverage making. My ribs have healed up well. I'd say I'm at about 95%. I'm glad my minor medical matter is clearing up so I can turn my energy to a more major one: Z is scheduled for big-time surgery on March 31. He is calm; I am calm. Aaaaaaack! Oops, I meant of course I'm serene. The procedure he faces, which involves patching up some crucial circulatory parts, is a common one, and the success rate is high. But still. Send good vibes our way, if you'd be so kind. In other matters, I did run 10 miles Saturday. The run itself went well--I went down to the Bay Trai...
Read more

That Z Man

Image
Yesterday was Z's birthday, and I was thinking about how the story of us is at its heart a running story. About eleven and a half years ago, I was working the registration table at my running club's Fourth Sunday Run , and a guy came up to the table to register for the race. I asked him if he was a club member, and he said "No, but I'm going to change that right now," so I gave him a membership form to fill out. What happened after that is a story that has often been mis-told by others, but I'm here to give you the correct version--after all, I was there. I was running the 10K that week. The race started, and it wasn't long (maybe half a mile?) before I noticed that up ahead of me two of the club's most talented and winsome older women runners were schlepping along with the new guy (who was stylishly attired in purple sweatpants), chatting up a storm. "Those two," I thought. They always talk to the cutest guys." I ran along behind them f...
Read more

Dog-Day Running

Image
Still getting out frequently and doing the old left-right, although the experience has changed a bit over the years. Sometimes I still go back to the Bay Area and run-walk with my running peeps, but most days you'll find me run-walking in my West Sacramento neighborhood with a small black buddy. We're not the speediest pair, but we have our fun! This morning, before the heat set in, Charlie and I covered 1.42 miles. Woo hoo! I'm pushing her gradually to get up to two miles per outing. I'm ashamed to tell you that I love talking doggie baby talk with little Charlie--after all, she only weight 11 pounds, which is kind of baby-sized, right? If it takes talking about "walkies" and "sniffies" with her to give me incentive to get out the door, I'm in. Sometimes I sing little songs to Charlie when nobody else is around. Like the old favorite,  D-d-d doggie, beautiful doggie, you're the only d-d-dogie I adore; When the m- moon shines over the cowshed...
Read more