Running Commentary

One of the beautiful murals in the lobby of Coit Tower. The way the colors glow can't be captured in a flip-phone photo. I walked up the Filbert steps to Coit Tower today. This is the fourth time in as many weeks that I've done it, and it gets easier every time. It didn't hurt that we're having weather from fairyland today. It's magical--air all luminous, birds all crazy-happy. I gave directions to a young couple who told me they were from Brazil. I refrained from telling them how beautiful they were. When my mother was old she used to love watching dancers in the movies or on TV and I used to wonder whether it didn't actually hurt her to see strong and lovely young people doing things she would never, ever be able do in her remaining time. Now I understand (as now I understand many other things she told me as she entered her dotage). I love every young athlete, young dancer, young person I see. I suppose that's because they're the future of my species a

I love the early morning. I've been a morning person for as long as I can remember. Morning is when the previous day's slate has been wiped clean and all new things are possible. My mother was a morning person, and maybe I got it through the genes. She would awake around 5:30 am, get the coffee brewing and then take a shower. After that she’d wake us girls up and cook breakfast for herself, for us, and for my father. Now that I’m older, I especially treasure mornings because that’s when I get to run. Streets that are normally choked with traffic (and rulllly annoying) become my own personal boulevards. This time of year the birds, who come to life before dawn, chirping and singing, become my peers. (Confession: Sometimes I chirp to them and they answer back.) You may have guessed by this point in the post that I had a good run this morning (insert smile here). I’m not totally healed. I may never do a run longer than five miles in my life again. But I’m out there. Today it