Last night I went to bed early and I woke up feeling fine (if fine means still kind of tired because two different people woke you up three different ways on and off throughout the period when you hoped you might be asleep…) Either way, I figured I would have plenty of energy for the day. Then I did my normal morning routine, which accidentally included running. Again.
It seems I’m becoming a runner mostly because I’m so enamored with nature on my walks that I stop 10 times to take pictures of sparkling water droplets on velvety petals and trembling dewdrops about to plunge from the blades of grass or the ever elusive grey heron standing at attention, focused until I appear and disturb him.
Suddenly I look at my watch and I’m going to be late. Again. I’m doing these walks to keep my sanity during what seems to be 100 days of Home Kindergarten, but my husband is the one keeping us in business. So when I say I’ll be back at 8:15, I should really be on time so that he can get to work funding this whole operation. Plus, he’s always on time and when I said at our wedding that he made me want to be a better person, I really meant that I wanted to be more timely like he is.
Today I had a plan. I figured it would be harder to stop to snap a photo if I was running. So as soon as I saw the first temptation, I started to jog. But actually jogging didn’t prevent me from noticing nature’s charms so I kept stopping anyway. Zig-zagging around this way could not have been helping with the time. In addition, I took a different route because after last night’s heavy rain, I wanted to avoid wet feet. The problem here is that the beauty is usually to be found on the paths where your feet might get wet. Try as I might to stick to the pavement, when I saw the wisps of fog rising from the ponds across the field and a swan swimming by, I threw caution to the wind and ran into the grass.
After I finished admiring (read: irritating) the birds, I had no choice but to run home because I really was pushing it to very the last minute. I thought proudly when I started jogging, Wow, this is getting easier! Two minutes later I realized, No, it isn’t. And so it goes and so it goes, made it home on time, but had wet toes.
This afternoon while waiting for Little Bean to fall asleep at nap time, I laid down to read a few pages of Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird. If it wasn’t for her hilarious, self deprecating prose I would’ve been asleep in a second. Running is tiring or maybe it’s my kids?…
Anyway she quotes another book called Rabbit, Run and I felt like it was appropriate–his heels hitting heavily on the pavement at first but with an effortless gathering out of a kind of sweet panic, growing lighter and quicker and quieter, he runs.
Out of a kind of sweet panic was really the part that rang true. I’m always in kind of a sweet panic when when I need to run home from these walks.
The funny thing about this ongoing running saga is that I don’t like running at all and I have no intention of becoming a runner. I do carry a slight jealousy of all those people who love to run but in spite of all that, I never tire of participating in the unplanned activities that life puts in front of me. It certainly keeps things interesting.