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It's been a weird weekend...I kind of hit the wall on a number of
levels, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say, hit the wall with
numerous body parts. Truth be told, I probably used my head the most.
I had so many options available to me; concerts, and old friends, and
art and strawberries, yet I kind of shrugged it all off. Unlike many
decisions in life, I didn't get that immediate tingling sensation that
confirms many of my choices. I'm thinking maybe I'm a bit numb. Summer
vacation can't come soon enough.
Despite feeling less than great (I'm about to pop my 3rd Aleve in 2 days!) I've maintained my commitment to running 20 miles this week and it has been a struggle. The music hasn't been quite right, and even if it were perfect, my right glute is screaming louder than any song playing. Not tremendously fun or satisfying.
On my run Friday, I passed two elder(ly?) women walking. They were on the opposite side of the street and I was wearing contacts, which don't do all they should to improve my vision. I was taken aback by one of the women - she looked like my mother. I think. The last time I spoke to my mother in person was when she attempted a "scar-off" to prove that her heart surgery was way worse than my cancer surgery could have ever been. Ok, you win and what have we proven? That you have a heart and I can cut malignant things from my life and prosper? Fine.
Well, it is a little disconcerting to not be certain whether a person is, or is not, your parent. You'd think this would be a familiar sensation for me, growing up as I did wondering if every single man with a brogue was my father, but it was still weird. I had a familiar train of thought ride through my head. What will it be like when she's gone? Will I stop seeing her everywhere the way I stopped imagining every Irishman to be my father once I knew he was gone?
I'm getting ready to be a stay at home mom for 10 weeks and I plan to slow down, enjoy my boys and try really hard to make sure that they always know who their parents are, two people who love them dearly.
Despite feeling less than great (I'm about to pop my 3rd Aleve in 2 days!) I've maintained my commitment to running 20 miles this week and it has been a struggle. The music hasn't been quite right, and even if it were perfect, my right glute is screaming louder than any song playing. Not tremendously fun or satisfying.
On my run Friday, I passed two elder(ly?) women walking. They were on the opposite side of the street and I was wearing contacts, which don't do all they should to improve my vision. I was taken aback by one of the women - she looked like my mother. I think. The last time I spoke to my mother in person was when she attempted a "scar-off" to prove that her heart surgery was way worse than my cancer surgery could have ever been. Ok, you win and what have we proven? That you have a heart and I can cut malignant things from my life and prosper? Fine.
Well, it is a little disconcerting to not be certain whether a person is, or is not, your parent. You'd think this would be a familiar sensation for me, growing up as I did wondering if every single man with a brogue was my father, but it was still weird. I had a familiar train of thought ride through my head. What will it be like when she's gone? Will I stop seeing her everywhere the way I stopped imagining every Irishman to be my father once I knew he was gone?
I'm getting ready to be a stay at home mom for 10 weeks and I plan to slow down, enjoy my boys and try really hard to make sure that they always know who their parents are, two people who love them dearly.
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