Well, it's a big week here at the Seinberg training camp. I am employing a mantra of consistency and gratitude to fuel my endeavors.
The consistency goes like this:
Monday 4 miles
Wednesday 5 miles
Thursday 5 miles
Friday 5 miles
Saturday 6 miles
Sunday 10-12 miles
Also each day features going to work. Other highlights include last night's fresh baked bread, work on producing a new opening slide show for the 2010 Sister Spit Tour, dog care for my beloved Gus because it looks like he will be undergoing surgery for a hurt knee, a birthday brunch for my friend Tara, a stop at acupuncture, a dance party, writing the novel, laundry, and the doing of taxes.
The gratitude goes like this:
I am gainfully employed at a great job that fosters health, community, and rock star health insurance. Last night Ginger arrived home to a house reeking of freshly baked bread and we ate a whole loaf right out of the oven. Mostly I ate it, truth be told. It's one of my favorite smells in the whole world, right up there with freshly cut grass, gasoline, rain, and campfire. I am also continually psyched to have Ginger to eat the bread with, some of the best company a girl could ever desire. The slide show means I get to go on tour with Sister Spit in some small visual way, which I am so honored by. And little Gus can have his surgery and be ok. I will cancel my 40th birthday trip to London and Paris and I'm actually not even bummed out about it that much. Gus has spent years taking care of me when I've had a hard time, and now I can show him a little appreciation. There's certainly nothing wrong with spending my big four-oh in San Francisco, one of my favorite cities of all time. And now I have the opportunity to plan a big ass party instead. And I have clean clothes.
In the midst of all the busyness, people have been slipping me the nicest messages and talks. Really I am so stunned at the amount of encouragement and cheerleading people have done. Some total strangers even. I ran past these EMT guys on Market Street the other day in the 9th mile and I was really hurting. They were walking almost as fast as I was "running". And they just started yelling their faces off like Come on girl!! Keep it up. You're doing great! Only eighteen more miles! Which was hilarious because I realized his number was a joke to him, but it was actually kind of close. But it helped. These dudes just fell into my lap when the burn was at its peak, and I made it a few blocks further, and then a few more.
I also want to send out a hearty congratulations to all the people who made it through the Oakland Marathon last weekend, and all those who didn't but tried anyhow. Right over there across the Bay, you all got up, got out there, and put one foot in front of the other. You weathered uncertainty, pain, time management problems, loss, injuries, cancer, and fear. You kept going. You were an enormous gang of beauty over there, and because you kept on, so will I. Congratulations to all the finishers, but more importantly, to each person even making the attempt. As my friend Ann told me while she watched the 7th hour of people not giving up, the magic is in the people who aren't too sure, who hope and stretch and reach for things they are told they aren't supposed to have. every time you leave your house, you are that person.
It's really true. I am that person. I'm never too sure, never quite comfortable, and forever lugging a heavy treacherous doubt around town with me. Today I am grateful for the doubt. To have it and to try anyhow. To be the awkward woman in the sausage outfit with incredible support from people, a stalwart pool of love to draw from, and thick thighs to carry me as far as they can. This is an opportunity for me to do a thing I can't imagine still, and even when I don't want to and I don't think I can, that too is a gift. Thank you Ann.
Please stay tuned for the inevitable loss of optimism. Because it'll come back. And I'm kind of funny even in the dark spots.