Saturday Morning Zen

This weekend didn’t turn out like I thought it would.  Last week Sophie and I had a little cold; after a few days our virus’ diverged.  My cold cleared up and hers took a turn for the worse.  Now we know she has a sinus infection that is topped with a whopping case of pneumonia.  We almost took her to the E.R. on Friday night because of her cough and rattling chest, but managed to make it through the night and saw her pediatrician Saturday morning.  Her blood-oxygen level was border-line, so he didn’t hospitalize her and instead treated her with a bevvy of “big gun” antibiotics.  We had a follow-up appointment Sunday morning with him, and today (Monday) we’ll go back in for another re-check.

Do I even need to say that I didn’t run with the ladies on Saturday?  I’ll say it anyway; I couldn’t bring myself to leave my sick kiddo to run with my friends.  My inner “Mama Bear” came roaring to the surface; I was not leaving my child.  Yes, my husband could have managed.  But when my babies are sick, there’s not a person in this Universe who can care for them and love them like I can.  I’m not leaving my baby when she needs me.

By Sunday afternoon things were pretty quiet in the house.  Bill was watching the pre-show game.  Chili was in the crock-pot, available for anyone who was hungry.  Sophie was dozing on the couch and Connor was making Valentine’s in his room.  It was the perfect time for me to sneak out and enjoy the late afternoon calm before the forecasted snow arrived.

Before leaving the house I told Bill, “I don’t know where I’m going or how long I’ll be gone.  Will just play it by ear.”  Not the most informative thing I could have said, but completely accurate.  It might be two miles, it might be seven.  I didn’t know.

My legs felt TIGHT.  No stretch in them at all.  They were so tight they felt like metal. This is going to be slow-going, I thought.  Oh well, at least I’m out.

And thus it went.

After a mile I figured that at this rate I should be able to keep going, so at the last minute I turned my two-mile loop into a 4.5 mile loop.  By two miles I was deeply regretting that decision, but plowed ahead.  At 2.5 miles, I stopped.

It was quiet out, and no one was around.  The Superbowl game had probably just started and everyone would be gathered in living rooms, glued to the T.V. I spread my legs into a wide stance, secured my elbows to the inside of my thighs and did a few spinal twists, breathing deeply.  A jolt of energy coursed through my spine.  I stood up and spread my arms wide, opened my chest, inhaled deeply, and exhaled with a loud, long noise.  It felt so good I did it a few more times.  I tried a few squats, a few lunges, and then reached as high as I could and did a little dance.  It was just me and my party, and I was the star. 

I imagined myself as a young horse jumping over the starting line and headed out again with a spring in my step.  The dance moves had loosened me up and the stagnant energy was flowing like a river in flood.  The air that whooshed into my body with every breath was FRESH, and sudden heat was moving all around me.  This is why I came out tonight.

As I ran by the trees I stretched out my hand and touched the bare branches lightly with my gloved fingers.  They passed some energy to me, and I gave them some of what was lighting my fire.  The knot in my neck loosened and melted away, and my heart felt a thousand pounds lighter.

The past several days have been heavy with worry.  Worry over my daughter’s health, worry over finances, worry over getting a job.  Too much worry and not enough life force jumping in to save me.  That’s okay though; tonight, I saved myself.  I released that stagnant, negative energy and turned it into something positive.  I reached into the Universe and used my powers as a Healer to help myself.  And, I danced.

Sophie’s doing better today.  We received great news about some money we desperately need for my husband’s business.  I received good news about a paying writing gig.  Did all this happen because of me?  I doubt it.  But I slept better last night and I don’t feel as bogged down.  This is good.

The Hunger Games and Catching Fire, the sequel

The Hunger Games is set in futuristic North America in a country called Panem.  Life in North America is over as we know it.  Panem has a center of operations called The Capitol and twelve outlying districts that are titled merely by number.  Each year the Capitol requires two tributes, or sacrifices, from each district to participate in the Hunger Games.  Every name of every boy and girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen are put into a lottery, and a boy and girl from each District are chosen at random to participate in the annual televised fight to the death that required viewing for all citizens.

The story is told from the perspective of Katniss, a sixteen year old girl living with her mother and twelve-year-old sister in District 12.  Her father was killed in a coal mining accident several years ago, and Katniss is now the sole provider for her family.  She feeds her family by hunting illegally in the woods beyond the wire fence that keeps residents from escaping from the District.  When her sister’s name is drawn in the lottery, Katniss immediately volunteers to take her place.

I first heard about this book from a friend who clipped a review by Lev Grossman about The Hunger Games and the sequel book, Catching Fire, from Time Magazine’s September 7, 2009 issue.  The idea that struck me most in that review was the last three lines: “Kids are physical creatures, and they’re not stupid. They know all about violence and power and raw emotions. What’s really scary is when adults pretend that such things don’t exist.”

In this incredible novel, violence and power are central in the lives of all citizens.  The Capitol holds all the power and the citizens of each District live within the prisons of their cities.  People are left to starve to death or are routinely killed for such actions as killing a deer for food or trying to run away.  Medicine is scarce and even the baker’s family eats the stale food that doesn’t sell.  Children in District 12 live in fear of losing a parent in the coal mines, because without a provider they are doomed to starvation.

When Katniss volunteers to take her sister’s place in the Hunger Games, she is joined by Peeta, a boy who she barely knows.  Within a few days of the lottery drawing, Peeta declares to the world that he has always loved Katniss, and suddenly the fight to survive the Killing Arena becomes a game of cunning, violence, love, power, and skill.

Suzanne Collins takes us into a world where things are exactly as they seem; corrupt, unfair, destitute and violent.  Nothing is sugar-coated and at least everyone knows where they stand.  Through Katniss, the reader discovers that there is a piece of personal power that can be wielded in a world that seems bent on the destruction of dignity, friendship, compassion, justice, and love.

I wasn’t sure if this story would be difficult to stomach and hesitated to begin reading once I bought it from the bookstore.  After several weeks of psyching myself up, I quickly discovered that I couldn’t put this book down, and read it even during meal times.  The on-screen romance that Peeta and Katniss purport is strangely non-erotic and entirely believable.  They realized that romance was what the viewers in the Capitol wanted, and they conspired to deliver, realizing that their performance bought them good-will and gifts from sponsors.

I hesitate to categorize this book.  Is it Adventure?  Romance?  Suspense?  Young-Adult?  Truthfully, it is all those things, which is what makes this such a good read.  Young adults will love this, but adults will enjoy this as much as they enjoyed the Harry Potter and Twilight series.  Suzanne Collins joins the ranks of J.K. Rowling and Stephanie Meyer in understanding what kids innately know; the world is a scary, violent place, and no amount of reassurance from parents will change that fact.  She dives head-long into this post-Apocalyptic world, and invites the reader to experience the raw human emotions of greed, violence, power and will to survive.  The world is just as it seems; bent on destruction.  The question is; who will be the winner?

It’s been two days since my last run, and it’s supposed to rain/snow tomorrow.  My daughter felt well enough to go to school today after snuggling on the couch yesterday with her box of tissues, ginger ale, and books.  This meant… drum roll, please… I was free to run as long as I wanted!

I headed out a little after 7:30 AM.  While I was running, something someone said to me on Twitter kept rolling around in my head.  He mentioned that it’s good to do a long run once a week, when you don’t focus on distance and go purely for time.  This gets the body used to running for longer amounts of time.  I’m not actively training for a race and have never used an on-line training program or even a book to get me to the start of a race, so all the theory I’ve learned is absolutely second-hand.

At around mile five I decided to just… keep going.  My pace jumped between 8:40 and 8:15 per mile, certainly not fast based on my past performances, but pretty good all the same.

Two miles later I hit the sixty minute mark.  I was seven miles in and at this pace, if I were doing a half-marathon, I’d be coming in at about 1:51:30, a full nine minutes slower than my half-marathon PR back in December 2009 (the Rock N Roll Las Vegas race).  So, since I wasn’t going for speed, how about running just for the sake of running?  JuliBell writes a blog and commented the other day “it’s called yoga PRACTICE, not yoga PERFECT”.  At this moment in time, my running felt like yoga.  I was practicing the art of running, not the perfection.  What freedom. 

And so it went.  I ran for ninety one minutes and covered eleven miles.  This is the longest I’ve run since my half-marathon race, and my immediate thought was “why did you wait so long?”  Honestly?  I don’t know.

I’m happily tired now.  I’ve put in a good day’s play and I’m mellow and sated.  I thought briefly that I should pick a marathon and start training for it, so I could get in lots MORE long runs.  But then, the happiness that I felt in practicing my run all but disappeared.  Having to work out a training plan, financially commit and then register…  I want to enjoy the art of practice.

Today was all about finishing a ninety minute run.  I wasn’t racing myself, I wasn’t trying to do a 90-minute tempo run at sub-8’s.  Today was about running for ninety minutes and enjoying the time.

When was the last time you let yourself enjoy an activity without pushing yourself harder, faster, stronger?  I don’t mean when you play with the kids, either.  Maybe you’re gentler with yourself than I am with myself.   But on the off-chance that you’re as competitive with yourself as I am with myself, then maybe we all need to reassess, even just a little, to find the joy in the motion.

I feel a cold coming on.

It started Sunday afternoon when I took my daughter out for the afternoon.  We were headed to the 2:15 show of “Avatar” and I couldn’t stop yawning.  I actually thought I might fall asleep in the theater.  Luckily, this didn’t happen, as I would have been more than cranky about wasting all that good money on a nap that wasn’t even in my own bed.

What’s a person to do when the throat gets scratchy, your ears have that achy feeling and you’re more than a little tired?  I don’t know about you, but this is what I do.

Kick-Ass Immune Activator, Green Tea, Neti Pot

1.  Sleep.  I’m a huge fan of sleeping when I’m not feeling my best.  I sleep 10-12 hours a night when I feel a cold coming on.  No kidding.

2.  Neti Pot.  This is done with the cute little ceramic Neti Pot and saline solution.  It’s not uncomfortable, I promise.  The weirdest part is getting the right tilt to your head to the saline runs from one nostril to the other, without running down your throat.  Believe me, you’ll know when you’re doing it right.  Be sure to have a box of tissues ready when you come up for air, as you’ll want to gently blow out the remaining water so it doesn’t drip down your throat.  My 10 year old squeamish daughter can do this.

3.  Kick-Ass Immune Activator, made by WishGarden.  I take two dropperfuls of this every 1-3 hours, depending on how I’m feeling.

4.  Hydrogen Peroxide in the ears.  Let me explain.  Lay down so that you can drop a few drops in one ear, letting it settle for 2-3 minutes.  Put a tissue up to your ear so you can sit up and let the liquid drain.  Repeat on the other side.  I don’t know why this works, but it does.  A friend told me about this a few years ago.  I’ve done it multiple times, with 100% success.  Go figure.

5.  Hydrate.  I’m the queen of hydration when I’m sick.  I’m so water-logged I might even float away.  I drink endless cups of tea (my favorite brand is The Republic of Tea) and when my throat is really sore, I add a little lemon juice to my water.

My son had a cold last week, and my daughter and I are in the beginning throes of it.  With any luck, it’ll be short-lived and we can go on with our lives within a few days.  In the meantime, we’ll be in bed by 7:00 and asleep by 7:30.  I believe in only being conscious for the good parts, which means that I would very much like to be UN-conscious for any and all illnesses, including my own.

The Wolf Moon made its appearance last night (A “wolf moon” is when the moon is at its closest point to the Earth.  This happens once a year.)  It was big, beautiful, spectacular… it gave me temporary amnesia. 

Wolf Moon Rising, Friday night

I drove to the trailhead watching the sky.  The Wolf Moon was setting over the Rocky Mountains, and it was utterly gorgeous.  I was looking for a place to pull over and snap a picture when I saw that someone else had the same idea.  After I turned off the main road I found a perfect place to stop and record this shot:

Wolf Moon setting over the Rocky Mountains

I arrived at the trailhead ready to run, but instead had a dream-moment, the kind where you show up to work without your pants.  I was (luckily) wearing my pants, but was still wearing my fuzzy Merrell clogs, the shoes I put on when I retrieved the newspaper.

After a sixty second debate with myself over what to do, I hopped back in the car and went home for my shoes.  The morning was just too perfect to let a little snafu like forgetting my running shoes ruin what could honestly be a fabulous run.

Twenty minutes later I was back in the parking lot.  This was going to be a tempo run for sure.  I had half a chance of catching the last people in the group if I got moving.  But, I had to stop and take a picture of the sunrise.  You know, priorities.

Dawn from my vantage point on Bobolink Trail

The run is approximately 6.6 miles long.  Divided into two, that’s 3.3 miles each way.  After the first 1.5 mile I still hadn’t seen anyone.  I was running at a good 8:23 pace on a very slight uphill for the first mile, and sped up just a hair for the second mile, clocking an 8:20.  At mile two I saw Amy and Marcia running back towards me; Amy looked like she was having some asthma difficulties; she only nodded to me when Marcia said they turned around early.

About five minutes later I ran into Kathy, her neighbor Wendy, and Kris. They were walking due to a week-old knee injury, and had turned around at 40 minutes.  I was holding steady at my 8:20 as well, and ran into Sarah and the two Beth’s.  We stopped to chat for a minute before going separate ways, but I picked up a few friends; the Beth’s decided to run with me back to the turn-around.

We ran a little further before I had to stop and take another picture.  The sun was up and shining on the frost of the bridge, giving off sparkly, incandescent light that was absolutely radiant in the clear blue of the morning.

Bridge of frost on the Bobolink Trail

We held steady at a 8:20 pace for the fourth mile.  During this mile we reached the turn-around and started back.  Now that we were on the downhill side of the run, we started to pick up the pace a tad.

By mile 5 we were cruising along at 7:45.  My legs and glutes were warm, blood was flowing to all extremities, and I didn’t feel the heaviness of below-freezing air rushing by.

Mile six was a little slower as we came down the north side of Bobolink Trail.  We held steady at 7:58/mile, and then did a big push once we were half a mile out.  Beth C. was a little behind us at this point, but still holding on.  Beth LT and I let our legs run, and we cruised to the parking lot at a 6:52 pace.

All told, I paced at an 8:04 average, which is, coincidentally, the average pace of my first half-marathon! The 53 minute run was an excellent start to my day.  I bade a quick adieu to the Beth’s and hit the road, ready to see what surprises were in store.