Drive

This road may lead to a brilliant future and I have no choice but to take it, however, I am reluctant to drive on ahead with a pleasant past still visible in my rearview mirror.

Though it grows dark, I detour down Memory Lane. I round the bend that brought our paths together. I cruise the straightaways of our companionable twosome. I grin even as I jostle through the potholes and curves, recollecting how they brought us closer together.

Yet now I must turn back onto the main path. At the end of Closed Door Road, I will hang a right onto Open Window Avenue and continue until it becomes New Era Boulevard. But in my mirrors, for as long as I can, I will watch the sun set on our golden age, and remember what drove it to greatness.

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I've been working on this piece for several weeks and even solicited feedback for it from various writing groups. It has gone through many revisions. I'm not sure if it's done, or what done looks like, but it is time to post it.

It isn't about one thing in particular, and yet, today, it is, about something I love that is changing. But I'm not going to elucidate what, because I want you to allow you to read it broadly enough to be about changes in life in general, and not just one particular thing.

If you have an excellent memory, you may notice that, yes, it uses some words and phrases from something I posted a year ago. But there is nothing like a little change to necessitate additional ruminations.

Galaxial Fables

Fern fronds frolic across the carpeted terrain of a deep-space merchandiser, the writhing corpuscles announce their unbiased censorship, and the earth sheds her misgivings like a sub-Saharan stargazer. My darling, your nonsense vaporizes my retina in a cranial conflagration reminiscent of a red giant: the hitherto hidden hope for nebulaic stardom.

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I'm welcome to receiving feedback on this piece! Feel free to let me know your reactions/comments/feedback in the comments or in person/email!

10k

Last Friday I read an article outlining the upcoming Dexter-Ann Arbor Run. I found out I could still sign up for the 5k, 10k, and half marathon races even though they were only 2 days away. After reviewing the route maps, I saw that the 10k started and finished right next to my work place, where I could park ridiculously conveniently and for free. The weather looked decent, I felt in good health, and I could think of no further excuses for why I shouldn't attempt my first 10k race.

As I've only ever once run that far without stopping, I didn't want to make a big deal about it and freak myself out. I've been running at least 3 miles/week for several months, but my legs sometimes feel like rigid planks the entire time, and I never know if running is going to feel good on a given day or not. Matthew thoughtfully looked up race day advice on the internet and made sure I packed protein bars to eat before and after as well as dry clothes to change into. I almost succeeded in not getting myself too nervous except for the dreams I had the night before about being late to the race and having to cover the ground with words as I ran (a conflation with NaNoWriMo, no doubt).

When the time came to finally awake on Sunday morning, I felt so excited to get out there and start running. I wanted to challenge myself, and I came ready to battle with God the whole way, struggling with the mental and physical pursuit. I arrived right on time to find over 1,000 runners lined up to run the 10k with me!

At the start, most people stood in groups chatting with friends. I felt a pinch sad that I had come alone, but extremely glad to not be lining up with my friend Yuri at the half-marathon start, her daily training having better prepared her for such a feat (Perhaps another time I can talk her down to the 10k...). Eventually, we runners in the back noticed that someone was singing the National Anthem and quieted down just in time for "the land of the free..." Not long after, the group began walking forward, and I couldn't tell if the race had begun or we were crowding to the start line. Perhaps both. I crossed the starting line about a minute and a half after the race had officially commenced.

Runners took up both lanes of the road as we headed north on Main Street. I started out slower than my usual running pace, partly out of fear of the miles to come, and partly because of the difficulty of running amongst so many people. By mile 1, where a volunteer band sat playing the Rocky theme on repeat, we started to spread out and the running got easier without as much jockeying for position. Just after mile 2 is where the guy in the lead passed me on his way back to the finish line, almost at his 4th mile. Some people in front of me clapped and cheered for him while the rest of us pressed on further north.

It wasn't until I made it to mile 4 that I gained complete confidence that I could make it the whole way, at which point I picked up my pace to at least the 10 minute/mile pace at which I train on the treadmill. I knew it would be uphill at the end (one of the features for which the Dexter-Ann Arbor run is known), but the finish would be nearly in sight, and I would manage. I realized I hadn't had to coax the steps out of myself the whole way like I sometimes do when I'm running at the gym, and it felt amazing. With so much to look at and so many people to watch, I was happy with my decision not to listen to music or carry a phone to check the time. Some people chatted while running, and I enjoyed hearing snippets of their conversations. But it felt so free to just be me, my legs moving like running was my modus operandi, nothing to carry, following the herd towards triumph and the rest of a beautiful summer day.

As I ran toward the finish, I took a moment to thank God for all the parts of me that work. My flexible ankles keep me from falling when I take a misstep, my leg muscles contract and release to pound the pavement repeatedly for over an hour, my healthy heart pumps blood to and from my extremities, and my lungs take in the fresh air to supply the blood with oxygen as the whole machine that is me motors on down the road.

I finished with an energizing sense of accomplishment in just over an hour with a 10:04min/mi pace, placing 559th out of 1,147 runners. The rest of the day as I wore my finisher's medal around the house, I felt something akin to invincibility, and when I met up with Nick, Yuri, Matt, and Andrea at the Taste of Ann Arbor for lunch, I felt like I could eat anything because I'd run 6 miles and gotten over 10,000 steps all before 9am. I'd do it all again, and I fully intend to. As I continue to run for fun and exercise, as well as strive to keep myself in good working order, I hope I can remember the unexpected joy I found in completing that 10k. I won't get a medal for my efforts every day, but I do daily get a chance to choose perseverance over resignation and adventure over fear.

Gambling with Vegas

When Matt was invited to speak at a work conference in Vegas, I got excited about tagging along so that afterwards we could head out into the desert and see some stars. I'd been reading a book called The End of Night which had gotten me really geeked about dark places and preserving the ability to star gaze, even though I don't know anything about what stars I'm gazing at. I could think of someone who does, though, and thought my vacation experience would be greatly enhanced with his presence. With little more than a month's notice, I took a chance and emailed my astronomy-loving friend Josh whom I hadn't seen since grad school:

"What are the chances you and Kristen want to fly towards Vegas the weekend of May 2nd to drive out into the desert and look at stars and dirt and rocks and stuff? In my ideal world, you're looking at your calendar holding a wad of spare cash and thinking "gosh, it's been like 9 years since I saw those crazy Dulls--we should plan a trip in May to hang out with them!" In my slightly less ideal world, you're reading this email chuckling to yourself about my persistent ignorance and naivety in life, but you're a nice guy and so will at least set me straight on my star gazing plans. In my living nightmare, you agree to come but only if we stay at the Clown Motel. So give it to me straight: what kind of world am I living in?"

Several hours later he responded:

"I definitely would like to see those crazy Dulls and regularly wish they lived closer to us for hanging out. Game-playing, craft-beer-loving, home-ownering librarian-type couples being in relatively scarce supply. Well, get this. By coincidence it so happens we are going to be in Arizona for a trip to the Grand Canyon area right around the time you guys will be in Vegas. I am very scared of that clown motel."

I did my best to compensate for Josh's characteristic understatement by replying to his email with no fewer than 6 "omg"s. Las Vegas is a mere 4 hours from the Grand Canyon and Arizona is a perfect place to view the stars! Jackpot! Vacation plans quickly fell into place.

A little over a month later in a brew pub in Sedona, Arizona, we Dulls reunited with Josh, and met his fantastic wife, Kristen, for the first time. In addition to being enjoyable company, they are also excellent planners, and Matt and I pretty much leeched on to their vacation plans in lieu of researching our own (Librarian friends are so useful!). Over the next several days, we would meet up in Flagstaff to play games and drink local beers, and take a day trip together out to Walnut Canyon and Meteor Crater. We also stopped by the Lowell Observatory to view the moon, Mars, and Jupiter through the observatory's sizable telescopes. It all made for a great vacation! Click through to my Flickr album to see our pictures.

Right Now's Favorite Things

Drinks with friends.

Wall of inspirations at my studio.

Kitty peeking out the window in the morning.

Tall, pretty shoes.

A day's FitBit graph that looks like this.

Hind Sight

Sometimes I narrate my daily goings-on to myself in my head to practice describing things even if I never write it down.

This morning when I walked into the bathroom at my studio building, I thought it smelled funny, but I didn't know like what, so I went about washing my coffee mugs before heading to the stall. The first stall, I noticed, had not yet been cleaned (oftentimes the toilet seats are still up when I go in there in the morning) but also had not successfully been flushed after its last use. A #2 was still in the pot from the day before, or perhaps over the weekend, given that it had largely disintegrated and turned the water the murkiest of browns. I decided to be a good lass and go in there and try to flush it. It's the kind of toilet that you have to hold the handle down on, so I could imagine how the remaining turd was an honest mistake. I held my breath and the handle, waiting to see the outcome. Alas, it didn't all go down this time either, but at least most of the brown water had been replaced with clean. The toilet bowl was still really stained and the room still smelled rank, so in a split second decision I decided to leave the turd as an explanation for the custodian, who I had seen in the hall prior to coming into the bathroom. I proceeded to the next stall to make my own deposit, but made sure everything flushed completely down.

I returned the the bathroom later in the morning, and only then did it occur to me that I should not have left a turd for the custodian to find, for he would be as likely as not to think it was mine since he had seen me go into the restroom. And he would think it had been a doozy, too, given the lingering putrid smell! Worse than not knowing that I had done him a small favor, he would now think I'd left him a trap!

"Hind sight," I thought. "Which would make a perfect title for this narrative if I wanted to blog it." So I did. You're welcome?

Another analytical post about friends

When in a group of n friends, where n is greater than 2 and less than or equal to 5, the conversation depth and style often default to the level of the least strong relationship, in order to be inclusive and polite. Topics and comfort levels of the deeper relationships among subsets of the friends are checked at the door, and efforts are concentrated on bringing the newest friends up to speed, or at the very least courteously not conversing only in inside jokes. However, the more established relationships should continue to be nurtured or they will tend to regress. Ideally, this nurturing can happen outside of designated group activities and in a way so as not to exclude or devalue the newer relationships, but they must be given the opportunity to experience their previously attained depth of connection or risk abandoning it altogether.

These are my general observations, at least, and the models fit much of the personal data against which I compared it. Have you notice similar dynamics amongst groups of your acquaintances?

I have experienced these situations at various times from different vantage points. I have been the new girl hoping to join an established group, and I have been the old friend sacrificing a part of my long-held relationship hoping it will expand to include another. My time as the new girl reminds old friend to not be selfish, and my time as old friend reminds new girl to be patient and not so jealous. I am grateful to have had enough friends in my three decades of life to allow for the gathering of this empirical data, and I assure you that my frequent analysis of friendships has not detracted from my enjoyment of them in the least!