Running In Place

Here’s my car - stuck - after I pulled off no discernable road into my non-existing driveway at 5:00 last night.  19 inches by the time the snow stopped.  Hurrah!  I’m so glad it’s finally winter!!  I pulled out the snowshoes today and, though the snow was so powdery I sank up to my calves anyway, it was a good excuse to go for a hike in the back forty.  Though it was 10F with a biting wind, layers of silk, wool, and nylon kept me completely comfortable the whole while.  And the sun was shining, which counts for a psychological warmth that adds to the effect.  I headed down the hill to the creek - which was not frozen but covered with snow.  Although I couldn’t see the water, I could hear it making its way along.  I *almost* successfully jumped the creek - snowshoes are not so much lending themselves to graceful flight - and managed to get my submerged foot out of the drink before any water could seep in.  I stopped alot on my trek just to listen to the wind swirl around and watch the snow fall from the branches of the surrounding trees, which are tall (40-50 ft maybe) and slender and dense.  Their presence makes the wind loud as it dodges and weaves through the thick tangles and they sway and knock into each other so that there is always the sound of branches cracking against one another - sometimes softly and sometimes as loud as a gunshot.  I think that I could stand around for hours, watching and listening.  It’s amazing to me that I can be 1/4 mile from my house and feel like I’m in the middle of nowhere, in complete solitute.

So.  I’ve got a 5K on deck in couple of weeks.  My first since last summer when I hung with Ed and Jon and it was VERY hot (the weather, pervert).

I’m not going to get into a big long thing but I am going to say that 2005 was an awesome year - runningwise and otherwise - and 2006 really, seriously sucked.  And it was all of my own doing both times.  So, having relearned the obvious, I stand again to take another of my million second chances.  And thankful that I still can.

I was contemplating a show on Animal Planet that featured all sick animals, all the time.  They’re mom would lose work time running them back and forth to the vet several times a week and what was left of her income would be spent on ridiculously overpriced medications.  Dramatic tension would be increased by a vet 50 miles away (though well worth the drive), adverse drug reactions, crises on weekends, and fed up co-workers (well, A fed up co-worker, but she’s quitting so whatever).  Maybe they’ve done that already, I don’t have cable.  In the end: Mira’s doing great!  Leg has healed up and glaucoma under control.  Little Cat, well her injury healed as anticipated but healed abnormally so she now has a disaligned spine which has caused a pelvic fracture and sciatica.  Fortunately, she’s her old self as long as I keep the pain meds coming.  And my piggy died during all this!  What the hell Buster?!?  He stopped eating for no apparent reason so off to the vet we went, followed by hand feeding and supplements.  A week later he died in my arms.

 I miss that little rodent like crazy.

Give me a sec to get totally maudlin here and share my most favorite quote regarding loss of a pet.  It’s from a book by Irving Townsend called Separate Lifetimes, specifically from a short story called The Once Again Prince.

We who choose to surround ourselves with lives even more temporary than our own live within a fragile circle, easily and often breached.  Unable to accept its awful gaps, we still would live no other way.  We cherish memory as the only certain immortality, never fully understanding the necessary plan…

Ok, that’s a bit of a meloncholy way to end things I think.  Let me finish with this:

When I take the dogs out in the morning during the winter I get to watch the sun make it’s first, tentative appearance of the day.  It’s usually overwhelming in it’s beauty and, no matter how many times I try, I can’t quite capture it rightly.  The moment the camera goes to my eye it’s already gone.  But in the end, even if I can’t relay it to you with any justice, I know it’s there because I was there too.  And that’s really all that matters, right?  You know.  You’ve been there too.