Wednesday, January 28, 2009
The day I became a mom
The fella whose presence brings a light within me that glows from the tips of my toes to the frizzes of my hair.
The first of the VaughanMillers and who welcomed his little brother, the second VaughanMiller, as his new, and life-long, best friend.
The little tyke who would strike up a conversation with anybody about anything because he just so loved the new and different.
The young man who said this a week before my run to Michigan was to begin: "I believe in you, mom. You can somehow always believe in me, especially when I don't, now it is my turn to push you. ... You can do this. I know it, because you're a Vaughan, and, more importantly, my mom!"
Well, Devon, I have always and will always believe in you. You have a heart of gold and a soul of sunshine. Spread it 'round the world this new year!
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Daydreaming on the run
Today's run was a basic commute to and from my volunteer job. The trip in before the sun was up was quite dark. Have you ever noticed that some days dark is really really dark? Well, today was one of those days, so rather than run the unlit bike paths, I moved over to the roads. Then I got tired of the cars (funny how they hang around roads) so I zigzagged into and through a neighborhood that wasn't quite as dark as the bike paths and not quite as busy as some roads. With the quiet, came a peacefulness that encouraged daydreaming. 'Twas a good morning for daydreaming. We have a new president, a president whom I believe is truly for the people, by the people, and of the people. Now it is time for us people to take some our dreams, work with our president, and do!
Running back home after volunteering, I stayed with the bike paths and trails. Both the vista and the quiet were soothing and again fostered daydreams. I've just started corresponding with a running acquaintance who is interested in a long run, specifically a north/south run along the east coast of the US...currently envisioned as a Maine-to-Miami run. We would do it in segments, beginning in 2010 and finishing in 2012 - the year we both turn 60. As I trotted towards home, along a trail through a field, I heard crackling noises - and realized I was hearing the ground awaken. Our third consecutive balmy day was bringing out insects and sprouts and who knows what all else. It is for those moments, the moments of being able to hear the earth burst forth with life, that makes me think that the daydream of another long run should become reality.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
A new goal!
The National Western Stock Show is in full swing in Denver. It's quite the event: lots of cows, chickens, rabbits, rodeo-ing, dog running, artwork, cowboy hats, boots, belt buckles...you name it... If it's American West, it's there.
I hadn't been to the show since our boys were little but went this year for a whole new thing for me: the Colorado Fiddle Championships. It was fantastic - fiddlers from 8 to 80+; all mighty fine.
My new goal? To participate in the 2013 Fiddle Championships (when I'm 60). Maybe, just maybe, if I practice every day from now until then, I'll actually be good enough to compete. We shall see!
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
I just finished editing the third part of the four-part series that I'm writing for Marathon & Beyond about my run to Petoskey. In this installment, I do a lot of tallying. One of the tallies that I included was "15 minutes" without being passed by a car on one of the county roads we traveled in Minnesota. My oh my how precious that quiet time is.
Being retired, I don't live a particularly hectic life these days. However, today started with an icy run to exercise class where a gaggle of sweating folks contorted for an hour with boisterous music, followed by an hour's run in howling winds over slightly less icy but car-filled roads that took me back home. There I had a quick shower, an equally quick lunch, then worked a few hours on my M&B story. After submitting the story, it was e-mail perusal time where I found a message from the professor for the class I just started taking. Holy toledo! I have homework! Due tomorrow! So next up: make some dinner and read read read.
In the midst of the upcoming months filled with running, my Monday/Wednesday/Friday a.m. volunteer job, Monday/Wednesday/Friday p.m. linguistics class, Tuesday/Thursday exercise class, and Tuesday fiddle class I need to sit down with trail info and road maps and figure out a 200-300 mile stretch of peaceful running for a mini-summer sojourn. It's long overdue.
Monday, January 12, 2009
When I run to my morning volunteer job at this time of year, it's still dark out. However, today it was dark on top and white on the bottom; we were in the midst of a gentle but thick snowstorm. As I left our driveway, the only tracks to be seen in the snow-covered street were those of my husband and dog (they had left for their walk about 15 minutes ahead of me); by now their tracks were barely discernible due to the fast-falling snow. When our paths crossed (he was looping back home as I continued east) I was startled by Kendall's appearance: snow-crusted cap, glasses, beard & jacket. (In fact, he said he had been worried about heading out in the dark wearing a charcoal gray jacket. No need to worry long, he was now sporting a frosty white jacket - quite visible in the darkness.) I didn't think I looked quite as frosty so I asked him which way the wind was blowing; yep - he was headed into it and I had it at my back. Lucky me!
After parting ways, I trotted off down a different bike path where there were no tracks to be seen. It was just me and a clean blanket of snow. About 45 minutes into the run, the morning's weather added some new entertainment features: snowballs were accumulating at the tops of my shoes/bottoms of my tights; mini-avalanches were cascading off my hat; the collar of my jacket was crackling in my ear...probably frozen. Nonetheless, there's nothing quite like being the runner who gets to lay the first track in an early morning snow fall!
p.s. to Paul if you're reading this: I tried to take a picture just for you of a tumbleweed I spotted sticking out of the new snow...too darned dark...you lucked out ;-)