Surreal

I'm at my parent's house for the holidays. There were bum-loads and bum-loads of snow everywhere so I opted to run on their treadmill instead of running outside. Don't get me wrong. Sometimes I like to slip, slide and crunch through the drifts. I usually have a slightly insane grin on my face as I do so. And all of the people driving by in their cars give me strange looks. But there was just a little too much snow this time. Too daunting even for my insanity.

So I popped in one of the old Star Wars movies to keep me entertained, and jumped on. Uh, those things should have warnings on them. "If you are not coordinated, don't even try running on this beast that we call a treadmill!" I felt like I was doing a balancing act on this narrow little piece of nothing that just kept moving under my feet. Focusing on the T.V. was hilarious. I would start to veer to one side or the other which you really can't do on a treadmill without hitting the edge, which is NOT moving. Bad. Bad.

I finally started to get the hang of things when I realized that I had to pee. I carefully slowed the bugger down, and stepped off. And whoah. Somehow the world was also now moving under my feet, slightly swirling. How does THAT happen?? (I bet one of you is going to give me the precise explanation.)

Anyway. Needless to say, it was quite the adventure. Even though Star Wars was fun to watch(I will always have a crush on Han Solo.), it was slightly disappointing to get off the treadmill and realize that I was still in my basement. Weird stuff. Tomorrow, I think I will go outside.

No Wonder our Perception of Beauty is Distorted

Short Film by Dove

Sometimes I wish I were a Duck

Today in the middle of my run I stopped on a bridge to stretch.
The waters were brown, moving slowly.
I watched the ducks swim and dip under the surface,
Jealous that they weren't bothered by the cold.

I was tired of running.
I was tired of a lot of things.

For a moment I saw myself jumping over,
slipping into the water.

Feeling the cold, letting the water take me away.
Letting it all drain away.

Then I blinked.
And with a sigh turned to finish my run.

Wind in my Blood

There is a winter storm warning for today.
Wind.
Snow.
Possible blinding conditions later on.

I wanted to go running.


So...

When the sun came out for just a bit this morning,
In a burst of rashness,

I went.

The wind whipped.
Ripped.
Pushed.
Took my breath.

And I wrestled.
Willing my legs to move.
Fueled by anger.
Feeling my wildness come free.

The sun glittered off the river.
Giving the allusion of safety and calm.
The ducks swam peacefully.
Riding the waves with ease.

And all the while I ran.


I came home spent.
Bewildered.

My edges frayed.
My insides broken loose.

But.
More free.

The wind in my blood.

Winter Art

I run my fingers through the sand.
Watching it sift, swirl.
My hands moving from my thoughts.

Today?
Winter Art

:D

Sunday I had the coolest experience. It was the first day of my period, which usually just about kills me these days. Yes, I'm sure some of you are wondering if you really wanted to know all of that, but honestly are you surprised? This is Wendy we are talking about here.

So yup, it was the first day of my period. Sometimes when I go running it actually helps with the pain and I decided to give it a try. About a mile and a half into my run(I usually go 3 miles) I realized that I felt horrible and turned around to go back home.

These were my thoughts:

"Ugh, I don't feel good."

"I should just go home."

"Well, I suppose I could walk. Man, home is a long ways a way."

"Huh, I suppose I could just run home. It wouldn't be much different than walking. And it would be a lot faster."

WAIT! Did anyone catch that? I actually thought to myself that running wouldn't be that much different than walking! Holy Mackeroly! Holy Shneezer Heezer Hide! Holy Baloney! I have never ever had that thought in my entire life!

So I ran home. I ran home even though I felt like crap. Got home and totally crashed.

You know how you can hike all day even when you are tired, or maybe not feeling quite up to snuff? Well, I think someday I will really be able run all day even when I am tired, or not feeling fantabulous. I already do in my dreams.

Running in the Snow

Yesterday I went running in the snow.
My feet left prints in the trail.
The only human prints there.

The river ran dark beside me.
Large geese stared as I ran past.

I wore gloves, and a hat.
Two shirts.
A jacket.
Big warm pants.
And my shoes.

I ended up tying the jacket around my waist.

I feel slightly crazy wanting to run in a foot of snow.

But it called.

And my heart sang back.

Farther Behind Than I Thought

I finally mustered up the courage to sugar my legs again. Just in case you had forgotten, last time I only got one strip of leg done before I realized my sugar concoction wasn't the right consistency. That was over three weeks ago. For three weeks I have had one smooth stripe in my left leg among all of my fleeciness. It took my social nonconformancey (I think that is a new word) to a new level.

But today I tried it again. Boiled it longer this time. It looked promising. And after my shower I sat down on the bathroom floor with my bowl of sugaring, a towel and cornstarch(so my skin would be appropriately dry and sticky things would want to adhere to it).

I grabbed a glob and proceeded to spread it on my skin. After making sure I pulled my skin taut I ripped away. It didn't hurt. I'm lying. But it didn't hurt bad enough to make me want to stop. So I found myself spreading goop with a vengeance. Ripping all over the place. Wincing. And then doing it again. The goop would only last a couple of strips before it got too goopy. I would then scrape it off onto a plate and grab some more. It was quite satisfactory to see my pile of hairy goop growing. All of that hair that was now not in my legs. :D

At one point I became consciously aware of this anger secretly slipping out. Even though it hurt, I didn't care. There were times when I almost attacked my legs with the stuff. Ripping with glee. Hating my hair. Hating all of the emotions of inadequacy, manliness(my leg hairs are longer than many a guy's), unfairness, not feeling beautiful, not feeling like someone would want to love a hairy beast. Ugh. Didn't I just spend a year and a half pointedly not shaving to make peace with my leg hair? Peace with myself? Damn.

I didn't finish my legs. Yes, I know, no one is surprised. I ran out of sugar. So my calves of 3/4ths the way done. I can feel all of my little pores tingling.

"Your uterus might fall out!"

I watched a new documentary-type film last night called Spirit of the Marathon. Yes, I'm a nerd. A running nerd at that. It followed the training and running of 5 runners who were preparing for the Chicago Marathon. Some were elite runners, where I swear they have a negative body fat percentage. Some were first-timers. Some way old. Some young. It was really rad.

Did you know that the marathon wasn't a competitive event until like 1890? And that the distance of 26.2 wasn't the actual distance until the London 1906 (I think it was...) Olympics? The Queen wanted to watch the beginning from the Windsor Castle so they moved the starting line back. Ever since then it has been officially 26.2

AND did you know that women were banned from running anything longer than 200 meters in 1928ish? That isn't even half a mile! They thought it was detrimental for our health. There was even a rumor that if a women ran for too long her uterus might fall out! That made me laugh for at least 5 minutes straight.

Katherine Switzer in 1967 ran in the Boston Marathon. Since she signed her name K.V. Switzer they assumed she was a man. Everyone was quite surprised to find a woman running in the race! One of the race officials even tried to stop her physically, but her boyfriend shoulder-rammed him and they got away. Good thing she was wearing sweatpants to hold in her uterus. Though I guess it is a wonder that no-one's intestines fell out of their bums either.

What ever happened to that damn Christmas er Winter Tree?

"Behold, I give you my Christmas Tree!"

"That's not a Christmas Tree...."

"It's not?"

"No, that is just green stuff all over your mantle."

"Who ever said it had to be in a TREE shape anyway?"

"It is called a Christmas TREE."

"Well now aren't we just picky picky."

"And this?"

"It is left-over tree that I hung around my fabulous, polygamous light fixture."

"And just in case you wanted another glance at the tree itself."

"And a full view."

"Well except that it isn't a tree, doesn't have any lights, ornaments, ribbons or a star I quite like it."

"Oh thank you. You are welcome to come sniff it any time you would like."

Hog-tied and Stuffed.

These are my brother-in-law's boots.
One night my niece Bethany and her brother Marty
decided to stuff them full of dirty diapers,
and put the laces in the little holes above
the fireplace.

I was the one watching them.
But it was entirely too funny to stop.


(I grabbed this photo off of one my sister's blogs.)