time

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time [tīm] noun: the thing that’s sooooo not on your side…but it is…just not for too long. #fallen

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here is nothing like time to help you deal with a thing you think you might actually live long enough to feel the real and defined (in this) definition of regret. I swear Carl Thomas was singing my life. Like why did I have to suffer through that mental fatigue? How about if I never even met you, I would have been just fine. And by just fine, I probably would have been over-nonsensically-thinking about something or someone else. Point is, it would not have been about you.

But I am okay now. By okay, I mean, I have placed you in a place that doesn’t mentally assault me. In this time, I got distracted by someone else. And that person did a terrible awful thing to me. And, I really don’t know if I’ll ever feel any of those feelings again, so thinking about you doesn’t uproot my nerve endings like it once did. I think I might understand what you were meaning that day #hurtslikehell #thewayitis #leavethepieceswheretheyare #itaintworfitmisscelie. The pieces just don’t fit anymore, right? And you begin to wonder if they ever did. Anyway, I’ll just leave this wreckage right where it is. I hate cleaning.

Welcome Back, Tho.

I’m at a new airport, living in a new (not really) place, waiting in baggage claim again. Feeling awkwardly anxious in the best way. Confident. Calm. Collected. Everything about this is new to me – hello, you’ve met me! You know how I work. This is working out quite nicely.

I walked around in circular heeled two-step, wondering if I spent too much time in the hectic craziness before that point. Leaving work early. Picking my sister up. Making a pit-stop with her. Dropping her off. Phone suddenly not working. On my way to the airport. No way to tell him where I am. Parking, forgetting to remember where I’ve left the car. And moving as fast as humanly possible in these red Jessica Simpson pumps, because in all that, I had to skip changing from my work clothes. Time was on my side tho. Yes it was. 

He caught a glimpse of me, after the gentleman he was speaking with caught a glimpse of me, and we smiled. It felt like relief. I forgot everything about each fret before that moment and got lost in the seconds between our smiles. There was this deep remembrance of a feeling neatly tucked away. I lived there for what seemed like ever after.

We had the most perfect weekend. Like literally, perfect. The calamity about my phone turned into a conscientious purchase of a new (temporary) one so I would have time to decide what kind of phone I really wanted #anothernotsmartphone. The craziness of traffic gave me time to carefully (read: carelessly) navigate us to all the awesome sights in my sunny city. The cold morning waiting for our corral to begin running, brought us closer together as we inched toward the start line. My curiously convoluted behaviors and questions never once disturbed his calculated responses or reactions. We even catnapped.

I got everything I never knew I wanted. And for once, I didn’t spend a minute worrying about if his needs were being met. Hell, I didn’t even fret for my own needs. I was just there. In time.

Time was so kind to me.

And when he kissed me, there were no fireworks. Okay, fireworks, kinda. There was no explosion or activation of every sense in my being. Okay, there were some explosions and activations, kinda #Candor #UnhookTheLieDetector StopFactCheckingMyDictionaryDammit! I used to wonder why. I don’t anymore. See, when you are lost in time, there is only a deepening. A careful understanding of life. Like the man knowing something, knowing that he knows nothing at all, right? No? Maybe?!?! See!!! And all that never made sense about us, was clear. It was never about there even being an us to begin with.  Just being – in shared time. #ThereIsNoSpoon

I was a being intertwined in another being, and we were given time to be whatever we wanted to be…or not even worry about having to classify what our being was.

I did not want him to leave. Lord knows I shed a thug tear in the car on the way back to work. But it was for selfish reasons. I wanted to exist outside of my reality because it wasn’t this. The only thing being deepened, as that tear fell thuggishly was the longing for my somebody’s son[1]. Mostly because I imagined that he felt something like this.

Like being lost in time. 

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[1] my somebody’s son: shout out to KJONESY for that awesome phrase to describe the man I’ve been waiting on my whole entire life.

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Can I Get A Medic?? #RnRSJHalf

I didn’t even have a good reason for running the San José half. Like seriously. I decided very early on in the year that I wasn’t doing the California Coast Challenge again, because, like, I already own California. Running it a 2^nd year would be like showing off. And, let’s face it, I wouldn't show off.

But there is something about a running event happening in your backyard that pulls you in. It’s the worst kind of peer pressure, because literally everyone is running – why aren’t you? Sure you’ve been super busy (read: stressed the complete eFF out at work) and life has kind of been happening to you. A day of rest is probably the one thing that you need.

But nah. Medals.

Last year around this time, I had the bright idea to stay on campus because campus is walking distance from the start line. And, anytime you can walk to the start line, that’s almost like *does advanced calculus, carries the 4* 30 extra minutes of sleep. Sure you didn’t get those extra 30 minutes last year, but this is a new year, right?

Wrong. See, what had happened was, the football game was a night game. And I was totally supposed to go to the game. Because, support. I didn’t actually make it to the game, but somehow I thought if I stayed up all night watching the game, but from the comfort of a two-seater, not as comfortable as a bed…couch, that I would be super well rested in the morning.

I should just not think sometimes.

Start: You know the lovely thing about running. You can legit sign up to do a running event, and run into someone you know! This is awesome… *smile for the camera Jay*

Mile 1: I can’t believe I acted all outside my mind at that Race Expo for this. I’m so sleepy Jesus.

Mile 2: Did I fix my Fantasy Football line up? I’m pretty sure I did. Right? No?? Maybe?!?! FAWK!

Mile 3: Here come the battalion of little children running like they have no worries. Because, they don’t. Like this is the only thing they’re worried about right now. And really, they’re not worried. They’re having fun. #TheDarkConOfGrowingOlder

Mile 4: Is all this running worth the wine I give up? I mean, I still drink it, but not like I would if I didn’t have to run. I don’t think it’s worth it at all. I should figure it out… *starts doing the math*

Mile 5: C’mon! Positive Energy! You can do this. You can also turn at the 10k loop. #JustSayin

Mile 6: I was about to lie to myself and say I feel good. But it’s Sunday. This sucks.

Mile 7: I seriously don’t want to do this anymore. Not like fake serious like I am other times. Like really effing serious! I should have turned around at the 10K loop!

Mile 8: This little old lady won’t let me be great. Like not at all. She’s pacing me like, eff yo run…i got a least 50 years on you and you look like you’re about to die fast walking next to me. #HellaRude #OldPeopleAreRudeAsHell

Mile 9: Lord Jesus be a medical aid tent. Or one of those dudes on a bike. When you said something about a fire being shut up in my bones, did it have to be today, and have to be my knee??

Mile 10: Did I take that dress back to Banana Republic? It’s soooo cute. I totally need the belt or it’s just not gonna work. Wait, didn’t I just go through this yesterday? #5k #Mile3 #ImLosingMyMind

Mile 11: Seriously? Did everyone get a memo with my picture on it like, if you see her, beat her…I’m like EVERYBODY’s Pacer! Yo…I’m not that good son! #WellPlayedRnRSJ

Mile 12: I smell cinnamon rolls and bacon. I probably don’t really smell the bacon. I think my nose just wants to smell it. And because I smell the cinnamon rolls, bacon pairs well with them, so…*sniff*sniff*

Mile 13: HOW CAN I NOT BE FINISHED YET?!!?!?!!?! #ImNotAngry #OkayALittleAngry

Mile 13(0.1): I’m not sure I’m going to be able to make that walk back to campus. Why is the 0.1 literally always the hardest mile? And why is she so damn happy cheering for me???

Finish: Good Grief & Great God it’s over!!!!!!! *internally passes out, but stays conscious enough to get my medal*

So, I’m hobbling now. Because there is no point in trying to look good. My knee and my ankle are like, she’ll never run again! WE. ON. STRIKE! And for the first time, in any running event ever, I checked myself into the Medial Aid tent. I mean, there is no glory if you can’t make it to the restaurant for your mimosa, so, let’s wrap this ankle and knee up in the iciest ice you got homey. Like Antarctica ice.  

As I looked at the weary runners and other body parts abdicating their owners, I see a young, adorable, black man (read: one of my students) smiling back at me.

I should have known you’d be here! I almost left!!

I’m glad you didn’t it *not here for the reunion* What’s good on some of that ice tho?

He pulled out a chair for me. Wrapped my knee and congratulated me on a job well done. It didn’t feel like that. It never feels like that. I’m not sure if I am ever going to feel great after a run. I’m looking for something magical, something Narnian almost. I always feel like everyone else can do so much better than me.

Our catching up didn’t last long. Another runner needed medical attention. He disappeared in a flash, gripping that stethoscope about his neck. Face ready for whatever medical dilemma the runner had. Then I became the proud one. In this line of work – adultbirth – we don’t always get to see our babies in action. You know, like Joe going to see Susan at the hospital #DrewWasHellaPissed #JoeWasLikeTakeThatTakeThat. You know, the same way we never get that recognition for all you’ve sacrificed along the way. He’s going to make a fine young doctor one of these days. And if I didn’t nothing more than let him practice on my knee and ankle, it was worth every weary mile.

I’d do it all over again.

#15ThingsIn2015 Challenge

5 new states (Louisiana – 1 down, 4 to go) #iShouldWorkOnThisOne

4 new friends (OldieButNewbie #RunningHubby; My Child; WickedWineRunCrew (6 people!) – 8 down, -2 to go)

3 new running events (Shamrock Half; St Charles Road Race; Orange County Half; Wicked Wine Run – 4 down, -1 to go)

2 back-to-back running events (Rock N Roll San Jose 5K & Half – 1, 1 to go)

1 Half Marathon PR (Rock N Roll San Diego! 6 minutes! – 1 down, 0 to go)

regret

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regret [re·gret / rəˈɡret] noun: that time you overthunk for almost 36 hours, nonstop ruining what could have been the best living alive experience of your entire life you big dummy.

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 weekend lived alive in fear…of my feelings. Yo, them joints crept up on me like little kids waking up their parents on Christmas morning. You were sleeping all comfortably and whatnot, then just like that, you weren’t! It was one of the oddest moments of my life. I had not considered what he might feel about me (which could have been absolutely nothing) and what I might feel about him (which feels like it’s something, but haven’t felt anything in a while so I don’t know if this is a leg cramp, hunger pain, or glaucoma, or OMG – an actual feeling).

So, instead of being fully present as we adventured below sea level, I was living inside my mind trying to determine how I felt about him so I could behave in a manner that aligned with that feeling. Because, that’s what adults do, right? No? Maybe?!?! See!!!

We hung out at my place, explored the city, went to the mall (you’re not surprised by this), and like old times, watched random movies. I attended to his needs as best I could, and offered as many suggestions for activities as my weary mind could muster amidst all the (over-nonsensical)thinking.

Our final meal was at a local joint the guys and I meet up for drinks and games and such. We talked about love, the subject I avoided like I avoid going to the Doctor’s Office #ugh #iHateGoingToTheDoctor #TheyMakeMeSick #LikeIGetLegitSickAfterIGo. That was when I finally got my answer. At the end of the trip. He revealed to me his broken heart, and how he planned to not clean up the wreckage. Because, when your heart is broken bad enough, you’re okay with not busying yourself with putting parts of it back together again for something or someone (read: YOU, you big dummy) else.

Like, it is legit possible for someone to hurt you so bad that you give up. Like the best and most motivated among us, Type A’s running around us, will just quit. Not have it in them to do it. 

He, like me, wants to be loved so deeply. Not by everybody – but just one body, one somebody. And, it’s possible to think that you found them. That the search, the wait, is over. Then poof! Like humidity to a good Sunday morning press in a Texas summer. Gone. *queue up nsync*

That feeling will cause you to forgo all the lovely things you dreamed for yourself. And you will replace it with a life that was never meant for you. But, one that minimizes the risk of feeling all those wondrous things that ended up having you feeling this terribly awful thing. #TheKeyToWinning? #DontPlayTheGame

We’re just friends. And somehow, I don’t feel the way I thought I was going to feel about it.

♪…don’t leave me with regret…i hope we haven’t finished yet…♫

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alive

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alive [a·live / əˈlīv] noun: when you finally take Red’s (well, Andy’s) advice and decide not the busy yourself with dying; when you look into the mirror, after having grieved a loss that was inconceivable and you remember when you wondered if you were living or existing, and you realized what you had been, and no longer want to be.

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ut after too many years.

We didn’t hold them back or anything. They just kind of took us to different places. And we never even bothered to bother about that conversation. Mostly because of me. Which is the real story of my heart. I never bother to believe the most amazing things could happen to someone like me.

So, I did what every person does just passing time – log on to Facebook to see what’s going on in the world. Because when nothing is going on the actual people breathing world, you know something is happening in the matrix. I mean social media.

He was there. Grown all the way up. Using the same big boy words he used back when my imagination was too small to compute the speaker. He was there looking for somewhere to go at the exact same time I was looking for someone to do something with.

A comment turned into a message that led to a phone call that prompted the purchase of a plane ticket which navigated me to the airport baggage claim. Choice. He and I both made choices, without taking pills, to be in the same place at the same time.

But for very different reasons.

I believe now, more than ever, that he was certain about his choice, his for being there. I was completely unsure of my choices and reasons #why. I did not know how to be alive. Hell, I still have trouble with it from time to time. After existing…after busying myself with dying to my grief for so long, all I knew was that I needed to do something different, because insanity be repeating stuff over and over again. And it was impulsive and not well planned to comment on that post. And I felt totally strange at the airport, walking to baggage claim, just then realizing the gravity of what I had done.

I had no idea what I would say, or if I would fumble at hugging a hand extended for a shake, or if the adult thing to do was to kiss somebody, because well, we’re grownups now and that’s what grownups do now, right? No? Maybe?!?! See!!!

I think myself down the rabbit hole. Regularly.

Everything about that moment was an awakening. I knew then that I had been on autopilot for so long. So long that it wasn’t like riding a bike at all #CantSeemToBalance. So long, just like the years that passed from the last time we embraced until that moment I was locked away in his arms.

Strange how you can be tasked to educate and develop someone, only to have them return the favor in kind. Years ago, I was tasked to prepare him for life. Who knew that years later, he would be the one to show me how to live it? Our first lesson was held at the airport. I wasn’t five minutes early #causethatsontime like I used to tell him to be to training sessions. #Yup #IWasLate #WalkingFastInHeels

It was like I had never known what it was for a man to want to be in my space. On purpose. Just because. Without any need for me to feel any specific way about that decision. It was like that because I had not ever known it. Not like this.

And it scared me to death.

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The Bruin Reunion #RnRSJ5k

I keep telling myself that I’m going to stop doing all these repeat running events. But there is something to being hella loyal, and well, you know me. Of course I had to make it back for Rock N Roll San Jose! I mean, I live like a handful of miles away. I can walk to the starting line from my friend’s place. So, yea, I’m totally going to do that. Again.

And, I totally do these events like all the time, so basically they are expecting me to be there, right? It’s like, they roll out a special purple carpet for me because this GirlieGurl is definitely going to grace this running event with her presence, right?

*enter the expo*

Well, that’s weird. There are two races, and I only have one race bib number. Surely someone just got things mixed up. Surely. I’ll just go to the Solutions booth and get this worked out.

*waiting in line*

Hi, can I help you?

Yes. I was trying to get my race bib numbers, and there was only one coming up. Can you get me the race bib number for the other event?

I’ll take a look. *goes into the Matrix* Well, actually we only have you registered for one event.

Wheetttt? *surely you must recognize me, there has to be some mistake…did you not see the processional?* Um, there are two races. Why would I just sign up for one?

The person next to me can check into this for you. She can see more stuff that I can.

*waiting for the next person*

Yes. The woman next to you said that I was only registered for one event this weekend.

*looks into the Matrix* Yes, I see you are a tour pass holder. You’re registered for the 5K and you registered for the Half in San Diego and Las Vegas.”

Uh…and San Jose.

I don’t see that here. I see that you have another tour pass registration to use.

Well, I register for these things all the time. I literally pay for other people to run these events without them knowing, so um, why in the world would I not *make sure I’m getting all my medals* register myself?

We can totally get you registered today. If you take this card to the registration booth, they’ll get you registered for the Half.

*they better…or this will be the 10^th and final year of this event homey…ask about me in these streets*

Okay, it was actually more dramatic than it seems. Like for real. You know I am a snob about my running. And yes, while everything was taking care of, this was the year of bacon themed race bibs…so that awesome bacon name I came up with is forever lost.

…and you cannot replace that. #PRandBacon #NeverForgetSanDiego #iWasGreat

Okay, so the 5K…

Start: Okay, let’s get this money. I mean medal. I’m hungry.

Mile 1: I’m glad I stretched. Cause that would have hurt if I didn’t get that good stretch in. #iDidntStretchWellOrMuchAtAll #iHurt #ForReal #ItsNotAnApp

Mile 2: Good thing you’re almost done and you’re not running anymore this weekend. Because you didn’t almost show your entire arse in the Expo trying to get registered for a Half Marathon the next day. #YouDid #YouCouldHaveSleptIn #ButYoullBeBackHereRunning #YoureSoSmart

Mile 3: I need to take that dress back to Banana Republic. Or see if they can replace the belt. How did I buy that super cute dress and not get the belt? It came with a belt? It was there when I tried it on? What happened to the belt? #ImDeliriousAtThisPoint

Mile 3(0.1): I’m going to need that beer. I think I just used my last carb.

Finish: Bruh. -_-

I do not know how people stay so committed to their training over the summer. I mean c’mon, the sun is out! Sun dresses have been collecting dust ALL the other seasons long. I mean, it seems almost criminal not to, well…you know, live it up.

So another summer of limited running and training. I mean, sure I got the Wine Run in, but let’s face it…wine.

But that’s not what makes this awesome. I got to see one of my favoritest people I never get to see at these events. A fellow Bruin. It’s so interesting all of the people that intersected into my life during that time. And this guy, class act. Kind. Funny. Caring. Thoughtful. Genuine. Real.

Who happens to have a brother who is a running rockstar! Like, accomplished like none other. You know, the guy that helped me to figure out the winning in running?! Yea, that dude. 

Who was also the dude that took our group usie.

Because, no matter how famous you get, that sibling connection trumps all medals. You could be the person to cure cancer *hey, totally do that*…and your sibling could have you, minutes later, doing their laundry…because ‘member when you came in the house past curfew and you scratch the car?

And that medal ain’t saving you from Mama so…. what angle you want this usie? … fluff and fold, right?

#15ThingsIn2015 Challenge

5 new states (Louisiana – 1 down, 4 to go) #iShouldWorkOnThisOne

4 new friends (OldieButNewbie #RunningHubby; My Child; WickedWineRunCrew (6 people!) – 8 down, -2 to go)

3 new running events (Shamrock Half; St Charles Road Race; Orange County Half; Wicked Wine Run – 4 down, -1 to go)

2 back-to-back running events (Rock N Roll San Jose 5K & Half – 1/2 down, 1.5 to go)

1 Half Marathon PR (Rock N Roll San Diego! 6 minutes! – 1 down, 0 to go)