Running

As most of you know, I have decided to run a half marathon this June. I was initially very worried about this mostly because I hate running. I had agreed to run with a friend because my current fitness routine lacked any type of meaningful motivation. I reasoned that the thought of crawling my way through 13.1 miles would motivate me to actually get myself out of bed and onto the treadmill.
So I signed up and I checked out like 12 books from the library about training. There are books on marathon training for women, for lazy people, for slackers, for the clueless, and even for people who hate running. I think I fall into all of those categories.
Or at least I used to.
Something very strange has happened in my measly 2 weeks of training. I have come to like running. I am verging on loving running. It’s kinda sick. After completing my mileage for the day I often want to keep running. I have started to judge music by how motivating it would be during a run.
I really want a running skirt.
Now in the spirit of full disclosure, I am really more of a jogger than a runner. But when you say that you jog it conjures up images of leisurely making your way down a sunny park path. If you were to see me jogging around my neighborhood you would see a woman with her dog tied to her waist, stomping through mud puddles, mumbling the words to whatever song is playing on the iPod in a breathless, tone def, attempt to “sing.” See why I think it is crazy that I have come to enjoy this as a pastime? I have even decided that now that I like running, I will do a triathlon in August and If I still like running after all of this, I will just keep right on training and run the Portland Marathon in October.
My insanity is reaching new levels of stupidity.
I was discussing this running trend with Aarwenn. We have both noticed that, all of the sudden, everyone we know is a runner. The peer pressure to join this cult is enormous. I had come to terms with the fact that I would eventually have to give in a run a 5k just to prove to everyone that I do indeed hate running. Unfortunately, I have proven quite the opposite. Our conclusion? Running is the new crack. The peer pressure, the addiction, the weight loss . . . its all there. Its so sad to watch yourself become a statistic.

friended

I was recently friended by a girl I knew in high school. High school and middle school actually. She was, in my mind at least, significantly more popular that I was. This would not have been hard. I was the parliamentarian of MESA club. The point is, I was surprised she remembered me and I was even more surprised that she wanted to be my facebook friend. But why not right? So now she and I find out little tidbits about each other.
Boy is that weird! Here is a person who to me was represented the entirety of my teen angst. Now I did not have a dramatically terrible time in high school. I rather enjoyed myself through some of it. But every time I started to be myself and have a good time with it, there was this girl (and maybe 12 others like her) jolting me back to the reality that I would never be good enough.
Even still, I see her picture and think that she must have at least a lingering sense of superiority the way I have and lingering sense of inferiority. But the really oddball thing is that she seems really nice. Nice in a really “the universe is full of threads of grace and kindness” kind of way.
She took a quiz the other day about her spirit animal.
In a way, I know so much more about her after being facebook friends for 3 days than I ever did when we were in classes together. And she doesn’t scare me anymore. In fact I am a bit concerned that I might offend her. I mean, right now she is “allowing possibility to guide her day.” While I informed my husband that “My love for you is like diarrhea; I just can’t hold it in.”
When did I become the scary one?

"A Sunday Rant" or "Pure B.S."

So yesterday we went to a vow renewal celebration. There was an amazing desert bar and some pretty touching moments but we really only know the husband and we have only known him very well for a short while so we knew very few people at the event. But I felt sort of strange about the whole thing when we got home and I actually stayed awake in bed thinking about it last night.
Since marrying my husband and especially since moving to Portland near some of his closest friends, I have been half forced, half inspired to explore my relationship with religion. This is mainly because, to be perfectly honest, a whole lot of things his friends say and do, really make me feel very uncomfortable. I have been attempting to delve into the causes for these feelings as they occur. Looking at the context and the concepts involved.
Many things about this event last night were triggers for feelings of discomfort within me but the thing that I got stuck on, the thing that kept me awake, was the concept of purity and is usage in their ceremony.
I have spent so much time and effort in my adult life seeking balance and forgiveness and compassion. Striving to make it possible in my life and in my actions for those things to be guiding principles. There are many other things I consider valuable such as goodness and understanding and gratitude . . . the list could go on. But balance and forgiveness and compassion are all things I find both valuable and difficult, personally.
I have to say that purity is not on either of those lists anywhere. I can see that purity as a concept has a place in religion but I FEEL that it can be so harmful the way it is applied in many mainstream American Christian contexts. Purity is a standard of judgment and it inspires people to search for flaws in themselves and in others. The concept of purity asks us to search for those flaws and find ways to eradicate them. Sorry, but I just don’t think that is a very healthy way to live or think.
Flaws are in intrinsic part of the human condition. God has made us flawed. God challenges us with the flaws in ourselves and the flaws in those we love. I see the beauty and value in that challenge being appreciated through acceptance and understanding and creativity.
Acceptance that as a human being you are not perfect but those flaws with which you struggle are opportunities for growth. Understanding that those around you have their own struggles and challenges. And creativity in coping with these imperfections or even seeing ways to turn them into advantages.
A pure thing is untouched, unspoiled; it is not marked by anything. I don’t see how that could describe an authentic person and I don’t see how an unauthentic life could honor God.

Poetry

Well I have finally succumb to the overwhelming temptation that has haunted me since starting this blog a few years ago. I figure I have lost the majority of my audience with the combination of my woefully sporadic posting and somewhat abrasive personality so really, I can start posting my self indulgent poetry if I damn well feel like it. What have I got to lose? Last I checked I had 2 semi-regular readers and both of you are somewhat obligated to care what I say simply by your relationship to me. The quality of the drivel I throw on this site should really have very little influence upon your reading habits.
Right, so on to the poetry.


There is an inherent grace in liquid.
I have begun to investigate the parallels
That exist between the
Flowing and swirling
Of watery things
And the seemingly senseless
Arcs and flows of
My trajectory.

If grace is essential
And included in
all those parts of
all those things
that are as simple as
water
sky
love
faith

If grace is mathematical
And science is so very
Elegant

The elemental connection
Between my
Body
ground
inspiration
realization

is complete
and knowable
without
my knowing completely
whatever that means.

As I touch the surface of the water
The ripples carry me.
The art of life
Is to see how everything contains Grace
(Def: The fusion of those things we call God and Science.
Def: Things witch are elegant and correct by the laws of each.
Def: The embodiment of that which brings one closer to the divine.)
And is contained by it
And all that is excluded
Is possession