Monthly Archives: May 2009

Proof of a Higher Power?

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So we have a couple kids and I basically stop running.  I go from at least a marathon every year to a 50-miler then pretty much doodly squat.  Partly because of this I had back problems.  If I had kept up the physical activity, I would probably have been fine, but it got bad enough I needed surgery.  That meant I was out of commission for a long time.

Needing surgery told me that I needed to start running again.  When I have been running, my back is good to go.  Slack off and things weaken and get sore.  I was really getting up there in the miles last summer when I pulled a muscle.  It took me a long time to get there, being slow and cautious, not overdoing it, taking it easy.  But I still got hurt.  That meant lots more time of rest and lots more time without running.

This winter and then into spring I started to really get out there again.  I again started to put on the miles and I felt that the 50-miler might be within reach this fall.  I was feeling good.  Then, on a trip to Disney World of all places, I smash my toe on a suitcase so badly that my whole foot turns purple and I start limping around.

I am sure I busted it.  I taped it for a while and it started to feel better.  It still hurts too much, however.  I should really ice it and take ibuprofen and put it up for a few days, then get back to walking around.  But I haven’t done that.  I have been joking with my spouse that maybe this is proof that there is a higher power who does not want me to run.

But maybe this is proof that there is a higher power who does not want me to go to Disney World.  Or who does not want me to work, since a desk job contributed to needing back surgery.  Or who wants me to where shoes more often, even in Florida.  Or who wants me to pack with a suitcase on a table or a bed instead of the floor.

I have had a few setbacks to getting in the training.  I guess I just need to keep the goal in mind and get back to it once more.  I can still run 50 miles, as long as I don’t turn into a frail old man before I get all the training in.  Even then, I might be able to do it.  Most people wouldn’t do that kind of thing, but that actually motivates me to do things.  No one else wants to do it?  Might just be worth doing.

Anyway, I don’t really think that all these obstacles to my running goals are proof of a higher power.  I have seen others use just this kind of thing to justify belief.  Many people do that, in fact.  Since many people do it, however, I am motivated to do what they do not do.  I am going to do my own thing, dangit, and when I stop hobbling around, I am going to get started on that right off.

Peas and Cookies

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Trellis for Peas Woven from Saplings

Trellis for Peas Woven from Saplings

I have been jonesing for cookies or pudding or ice cream or some sweet thing. I was going to make some pudding, whip up some cream to plop on top. But my wife made cookies. A local teenager is going to watch my daughter after school so I can go to a meeting tomorrow afternoon. So my co-parent whipped up some chocolate chippers. I went with those.

Also, I spent this weekend in the garden. I dug and prepped and then planted. I can’t say I planted because my children were right there with me. I set aside a chunk of the garden just for them this year. They planted peas, carrots and (early) pumpkins. I hope the pumpkins do OK given that it is so early, but we can always replant them. In the larger garden I planted peas and carrots.

That is the game we often play in the winter when we are waiting at the end of the driveway for the school bus–Peas and Carrots. We jump up and down and someone shouts out a number and you have to get in a group with exactly that many people. It has limited usefulness as a game when there are only four or three or even two of us, but it keeps us warm. Anyway, we kept singing the little ditty as wel planted–“Peas and Carrots, Peas and Carrots, Peas and Carrots.” We had a good time.

I ate one cookie but I could use another. Tomorrow I have a busy day. I get my daughter on the bus, drive my son to school, go to Burlington to work with three groups of students in a row, head to the office to get as many tasks done as I can, drive to Milton for a faculty meeting at the high school, head home to meet my daughter at the house of the aformentioned teenager, drive with her to get my son, get home for dinner, then head up the road for T-Ball practice. Then home in time for bed.

Knowing that the garden is doing its silent job of growing will help me mentally once the day begins. And that extra cookie will come in hand, too.

Flowers for May Day

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Last Friday was May 1st.  For 15 years, with two minor exceptions, I have given my spouse flowers on that day.  One exception was last year.  I am not sure what happened but I forgot, so I pushed it out one month.  June 1st is as random a day as May 1st.  The other exception was when I waited until the last minute and it was Sunday.  I had to wait a day that year.

We met at the end of April, 15 years ago.  That is a fair chunk of time.  I get her flowers both to suggest that I have been thinking of her and that I love her, as well as to, at least for me, commemorate when we met.  We did not meet on May 1st.  That was just the day I picked that was close enough.  Plus, if I don’t remember, no big deal.  It isn’t a specific day, just a time to remember and celebrate.

The thing is this:  I think my wife is amazing.  I love her like crazy.  I think she is one of the most beautiful women I have ever met.  If it didn’t sound like I was exaggerating, I would say that she is the most beautiful woman I have ever met.  She is a terrific mom and a great friend.  I am truly lucky to have met her, and I am fortunate that she is willing to keep things going.

I used to get her one red rose.  That felt pretty romantic to me.  I have expanded since then.  I got her a whole passel of roses after ten years.  Now I get a mix.  This year it was pink roses and gerber daisies.  They brighten the place up.  A couple of years ago I decided to make flowers a part of life.  So one rose seemed too insignificant.  A bouquet had more punch.

And so we stay at it.  My parents have been married for over 40 years.  My wife’s grandparents have passed 60 years.  I am hoping, if the cheesecake doesn’t do me in too soon, that she can bear me for that long.  I am hoping that flowers (at least) once every year makes a difference.

Stories Before Bed

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The children love it when I tell them stories before bed.  The stories are all over the map.  Sometimes they are easy–a spin on the Thomas the Tank Engine stories for example.  Sometimes they are exotic, like the family that sails around the world and visits various sites.  Sometimes they are just plain silly.  If want to get them to sleep faster, I do what I can to make them boring.

I put the kids to bed last night, so they got a decent story.  It was about a group of explorers who traveled the southwest looking for a magic rock.  They narrowed it down and then searched for weeks by foot, drinking water from puddles and peering under cactus plants.  Finally, they discovered a staircase made of narrow steps in a steep wall that could only be seen in the setting sun.  After waiting the night, they climbed the dangerous wall and discovered the rock among thousand year old corn and baskets.  It turns out all of them made a wish and the wish came true.  Was it because of the magic rock?  Or not?

They left the rock in its place and told no one about it, so who knows?  The kids went to bed wondering.  This can backfire, of course, when they keep asking questions about the story.  Tonight my wife puts the kids to bed.  They asked for me and complained when I said no, it was Mom’s turn.  She doesn’t tell the same caliber of stories, I guess, at least not as regularly.

I like the ones where the family travels the world.  They see all kinds of interesting things and meet curious people, like the woman who wears only purple who seems to show up on every continent.  How does she get around, that purple woman?  I get to imagine that our family is doing the traveling, and I hope I am planting the seeds for our children to want to travel.  One of these days we may.

They are drifting off now, story over, such as it was tonight.  I need to plan ahead for tomorrow night’s story.  I am not sure what it will contain, but the purple woman hasn’t made and appearance in far too long.  She needs some story time.  I am thinking she may get it in about 24 hours.