The Playground

  As the years go by; time and responsibilities can make it almost impossible to have a moment where you are as carefree as a child. Especially, when your, "child", is a full blown teenager! Time has a way of slipping up on us while we are cleaning and doing laundry and driving our little people from here to there over and over again. It can leave us exhausted, both our bodies and our hearts to see life pass us by so quickly.
   We soon find that more times than not; their rooms are left empty as they celebrate the joy of growing older with those that are closer to growing older with them. We miss them, but find happiness in the sound of teenage giggles as laughing girls come to rescue them from a quiet day with Mom.
     Sometimes as I watch them drive away; I try to remember what it felt like to be without a care and laughter so extreme that you have to grab the friend beside you by the arm to keep from falling down. I have to smile to myself as I think of the ridiculousness of adolescence. (I definitely couldn't do it again). I sigh as I sit in the quiet house that fleeing teens have left behind. The room with posters I'll never understand and a half wrinkled blanket holding only a lonely cat and a half eaten bowl of Cheetos; anxiously awaits their return. I'm tempted to go on one of my cleaning binges but remember the humiliation it brings my drama filled teenager so I dig deep to find the strength to walk away.

     As I'm walking away I see them there staring at me; my new shoes with less than 4 miles wear on their spiffy new tread. I smile to myself as I remember that I am the only one home. I even get a bit giddy as I remember that everything that needs to be done is done. I'm happier than a teenager with her best bud as I lace up my happy feet and make my way to the car.

      Driving, I can hardly wait to get out of the car and dab a little sunscreen on my shoulders and nose. I strap on my music and place my ear buds in my ears and walk to the starting point of my favorite running path. I am a kid and this is my playground. I walk a little to warm up my happy legs and I'm off. Running like a kid that was just told to go play on his favorite swing. I'm swinging and sliding and running up the big hill that beat me up a week ago. My mind is far away from anything grown up that troubled me an hour ago. I am as carefree as a kid at camp or a teenager escaping to laugh the day away. I have escaped and played to exhaustion; I even giggle to myself when I see that I've finished the same path that has beat me up in the days before with little effort. How amazing it is to stop thinking so much and just play. Run on my friends....

Somewhere Over the Rainbow...

     I'm not quite ready to call myself a runner yet, despite my sunburned shoulders and nose, from my lunchtime feast of climbing hills and patting the much too warm pavement. I've always been my very worst critic; harder on myself than any person should probably even be on a stranger. I stopped a few times; just to walk for a minute; I actually looked at the 60 seconds pass as I caught my breath at the top of the hill and started running again. Ahhhh, running again; it's all I've wanted to do since I stopped running.
I felt the wind in my face as my feet pounded the hard sidewalk; nothing was better than coming down the hill that you struggled to climb at the start of your run. Nothing was better than your legs and feet gliding back to the start with no pain; well except for maybe the cold bottle of water that was waiting at the finish.
Running has always been a place for me to go that delivered a sense of peace. It's always much the same; the start is not that fun; waiting for the body and mind to come to life. It usually takes me about 8 minutes to feel alive and just like that; rainbows and fireworks! No, seriously; rainbows and fireworks, and if you don't believe it; you must download Josh Groban singing, "Somewhere over the Rainbow", as you tackle your hardest hill and truly feel like you can fly when you finally realize you've reached the top...

I'm still battling my old 4 mile loop; the same loop that I was running as a young soldier, a young mother and now as a daughter recovering from the loss of my wonderful father. Sometimes, life becomes so not full of "Life" that we completely forget what brings us to "Life". Today I remembered and hopefully, too many days won't pass again where I will allow myself to forget. Maybe I will even consider calling myself a runner again after all. Surely, if Home is Where the Heart is then a runner must also be the product of where his happy heart is  as well.
Run on my friends...