Running In Place

Just when I think I’ve maxed out my animal credit with the old man, I’m somehow able to sweet-talk my way into ‘just one more’ something or other (he’s a pretty good guy).  These are my latest additions, Mommy Pig and Little Pig - a mother and daughter set that I acquired from some elementary school classroom where the life-cycle is observed but evidently not supported.  Perhaps securing homes for these animals before you multiply them would be a lesson in responsibility, hmmm?  In any case, I’m glad to have them - they’re terribly skittish but I think they’re slowly getting more comfortable with handling and food bribery.

Last weekend at this time it had been snowing all day long - and the worst was still forecast to come.  In the end, we didn’t get it as bad as the folks with tornados and massive flooding - 8 or 9 inches of wet heavy snow that was gone in 2 days time was about it.  This weekend 70s F and sunny.  Weird.  Nice, but weird.

I’m back out on the towpath, trundling along.  The swan couple on the old canalway have 2 or 3 eggs cooking.  Daddy Swan swims alongside me as I run past the homestead, in a beautiful ready-position that makes me fully aware that he could shoot up out of the water, overtake me, and be biting the shit out of my calves and thighs before I knew what hit me.  Today I wiggled into my running skirt for the first time as the temp was unseasonably warm.  I always dread this time of year - when the security of coverage is stripped away and I’m sure that the whole world is staring in disgust at my pastey white tree trunks.  When I bought the skirt last fall I was 10 lbs lighter (it’s been a winter of sparse running and excessive everything else) and it fit nicely.  Today - well, I might have been bordering on an R-rating.  I wrapped a microfiber pullover around my waist and felt a little less obscene.  I think I’ll withold any review of skirt performance until it actually fits me properly, though the only problem I had today was that the front of the waistband kept sliding down a little and leaving me with a plumber’s belly peeking out.  Oh, and I’ll have to dig out the Bodyglide again.  I will say that it beats the hell out of digging your shorts out of your crotch a hundred time a run any day of the week!  

So I’ve been following with interest VJ’s ETL explorations and was motivated to check it out further.  I’ve been trying to casually eat vegetarian-ish for the past couple of weeks and did end up dropping a few pounds.  I am now armed with all things veggie and ready to go a little deeper.  I don’t think I’ll miss meat, dairy, etc as much as I’ll miss convenience.  I grew up in a vegetarian household, but I never had to do the cooking so, you know, that makes it alot easier.  Plus, the old man is a devout griller once the nice weather hits.  Well, at least if he’s outside doing the bbq thing, I’ll have the kitchen to myself.

Have I mentioned that I turn 40 this year?  I find myself thinking about it quite a bit, though not in a negative way.  In the 80s, when I was in my late teens and early twenties I was a post-punk goth girl, smitten with my own nihilism.  I was sure that I wouldn’t live to see 30 and I didn’t care.  Now here I am…no more eyeliner, no more black clothing, no more piercings (though the tattoos remain).  I kind of miss that girl.  I don’t miss the mask, it’s nicer to live without pretense - I miss the energy, maybe even the anger.  Some little part of me misses doing lots of drugs and being wildly promiscuous, though the mature part of me recognizes that I’m not supposed to miss that.  Mostly, I miss being noticed.  That must be the Leo in me.  On the other hand, there’s alot to be said for becoming the person you already are, finding your own little corner of the world, surrounding yourself with people you love, and who love you, fully.  At 23 I would have told you that by now I would have been long dead.  At near 40 I will tell you that life is a lovely thing and it was well worth hanging around for.  I’m not the least worried about wrinkles or gray hair or the notion of aging.  You may want to check back here when I’m 50 though, it’s entirely possible my hair will be jet black and my nose will be pierced.