8:50am 3.02miles 34:30 minutes 11:25 pace 82 degrees and steamy.
I woke to the sound of rain against the glass wall of windows protected by my upstairs neighbor's balcony. My loft faces south and in the month since I moved in, I've never seen a drop of rain on my windows. I've been able to stand on my own balcony and enjoy thunderstorms.
I wonder if the Gulf of Mexico is waking up.
After checking out the soaked park across the street, I crawled back into bed and tried to go back to sleep. No luck. Giving up, I read a little and then caught up on some email, blah, blah, blah.
The rain broke and I got in my 3 miles. Friends, it's taking a lot to be out there when it's this freaking humid.
I'm glad I kept my promise to myself. I've been making a few of those lately. They include:
Getting my eyes checked. Done. I was worried that my difficulty in controlling my blood pressure might be causing some damage to the tiny vessels at the back of my eyes. So far, the exam doesn't show that to be the case. Yay! I have a new prescription in hand and I'm going to try to find some new prescription sunglasses today. I like the Oakley wraps an awful lot but I'm not going to spend a car payment. We'll see...
Cook more at home and eat at restaurants less. Done. Houston has some great restaurant choices BUT after driving home in rush hour traffic, all I want to do is relax and enjoy a healthy meal. My kitchen has super appliances and an excellent workspace. I've got so many grocers to choose from. Since moving back I've been to Trader Joes, Central Market, and Fresh Market. On my lunch hour I can run into Krogers for staples.
Spend more time with friends. Done. Soul-filling done.
Schedule one massage a month. Not done yet.
The commute gives me time to think and I guess that's where my latest list of to-do's has been developing. Concrete goals mingle with ethereal ideas. I'm not going out to eat as often, so should I put an extra hundred bucks in my retirement account each month or should I scrap the entire banking concept and put the money under my mattress? I'm working longer hours and driving more. Is a massage a physical need for a runner, a psychological need for an Oncology clinician, or am I just someone who loves a great backrub?
©Michelle Scofield, July 27, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Revise
4 miles 46:30 11:38 pace 8:30 am 78 degrees
No music or podcast this morning. Nothing with me on the run but an ID band on one wrist, Garmin on the other, and key in my pocket. The air is heavy enough. I didn't want to carry anything.
I decided to cross over to the Rice University trail today. It's crushed gravel (like Hermann Park). There were many more people than at Hermann and the trail is only about 5 feet wide. It's nicely shaded. There are curb cuts and you have to be careful because there's quite a bit of car traffic going in and out of the university. I'd forgotten how people walk 3 across and don't move over for oncoming walkers or runners. (Can't we all just get along?) Anyway...it's a little crowded and not as pleasant as Hermann Park or Memorial. I was also feeling a little cramping in my calves. In short, I wasn't enjoying myself.
I ran a mile on that path, then turned around and came back to Hermann and back home. I didn't eat breakfast before my run (I rarely do). It's just so freaking humid out there and I'm sipping a 50/50 mix of water and G2 now. I've got to plan my electrolytes or I'll get in trouble. I'll have breakfast and cool off the rest of the morning at home.
More and more I find myself saying, "Yeah, this isn't fun. I'm going home." I hope it's a sign of maturity and not just getting old and grumpy. Either way, it...is.
Happy Saturday. M
©Michelle Scofield, July 20, 2013 All Rights Reserved
No music or podcast this morning. Nothing with me on the run but an ID band on one wrist, Garmin on the other, and key in my pocket. The air is heavy enough. I didn't want to carry anything.
I decided to cross over to the Rice University trail today. It's crushed gravel (like Hermann Park). There were many more people than at Hermann and the trail is only about 5 feet wide. It's nicely shaded. There are curb cuts and you have to be careful because there's quite a bit of car traffic going in and out of the university. I'd forgotten how people walk 3 across and don't move over for oncoming walkers or runners. (Can't we all just get along?) Anyway...it's a little crowded and not as pleasant as Hermann Park or Memorial. I was also feeling a little cramping in my calves. In short, I wasn't enjoying myself.
I ran a mile on that path, then turned around and came back to Hermann and back home. I didn't eat breakfast before my run (I rarely do). It's just so freaking humid out there and I'm sipping a 50/50 mix of water and G2 now. I've got to plan my electrolytes or I'll get in trouble. I'll have breakfast and cool off the rest of the morning at home.
More and more I find myself saying, "Yeah, this isn't fun. I'm going home." I hope it's a sign of maturity and not just getting old and grumpy. Either way, it...is.
Happy Saturday. M
©Michelle Scofield, July 20, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Inspiration
3.2 miles 35.17 11.02 pace 8:30am 85 degrees
I slept in this morning. Yes, for some of us, after 6am is sleeping in. I woke to gray skies, gray mood and a deep desire to stay in bed with Steven King, toast and coffee. I knew it would be hot as hell with humidity to add to the discomfort. My joints are achy in the morning and I’m slow to move those first few steps. If I had a witness, he might call me “Old Woman”. I’m certain he would do so with a sweet smile on his face and would make it up to me later. (I like to daydream.)
I switched on my IPad, checked my email, and then checked Facebook. My son is running a race this morning. After reading his status update, I put on my shoes and I got my butt out the door.
January, 2010 started a roller coaster of emotion for our family. The losses have come fast, hard, and heavy. Through this Chris and I have found running to be a sanctuary of sanity. We’ve both felt our bodies ache but nowhere near the pain that’s hit our hearts.
I hope you had a fantastic run today, son. And I hope you had a lot of fun. You deserve that. I love you.
Mom
©Michelle Scofield, July 14, 2013 All Rights Reserved
I slept in this morning. Yes, for some of us, after 6am is sleeping in. I woke to gray skies, gray mood and a deep desire to stay in bed with Steven King, toast and coffee. I knew it would be hot as hell with humidity to add to the discomfort. My joints are achy in the morning and I’m slow to move those first few steps. If I had a witness, he might call me “Old Woman”. I’m certain he would do so with a sweet smile on his face and would make it up to me later. (I like to daydream.)
I switched on my IPad, checked my email, and then checked Facebook. My son is running a race this morning. After reading his status update, I put on my shoes and I got my butt out the door.
January, 2010 started a roller coaster of emotion for our family. The losses have come fast, hard, and heavy. Through this Chris and I have found running to be a sanctuary of sanity. We’ve both felt our bodies ache but nowhere near the pain that’s hit our hearts.
I hope you had a fantastic run today, son. And I hope you had a lot of fun. You deserve that. I love you.
Mom
©Michelle Scofield, July 14, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Saturday, July 13, 2013
The London Chronicle
6:58am 2.76 miles 29:16 10:36 pace 75 degrees
Up at 5:30 this morning. Time to think while waiting for the sun to rise and then time to think while running. It’s been over a month since I returned from (so far) the trip of my lifetime – for many reasons. Since returning to Houston, I’ve hardly stopped to breathe. Until now. I don’t want to let this trip pass without taking the time to chronicle. My Blog is my diary.
Dear Diary,
My London trip changed my life. You know that. I’ll never forget parts of it but I’m afraid I might forget others. Please save this for me. Thanks, M
Nonstop from Houston to Heathrow on British Airways: Movies and television all the way. Meal service. Aisle seat. You bet!
I bought a roundtrip Heathrow Express ticket once I arrived at Heathrow. I’d do it again. What I’d do differently is NOT take a taxi from the train station to my hotel. I now know it’s not necessary but that day I was overcome by the enormity of the train station. I’d just arrived in Europe for the first time and all I wanted to do was get to my hotel.
Hyde Park: My stepping off point. I stayed at the Cumberland Hotel at Marble Arch. It was a great place to catch the Underground or a bus. Twice, I took long walks through the park. There are great walkways and bike paths. That first afternoon I had a strong desire to be outside and explore but felt disoriented. Give me a park and I’m usually ok. I walked to the Serpentine Café, bought a muffin and a cup of coffee and sat shivering in the cold and damp London weather. Smiling.
There was a Prêt a Manger on the corner, just steps from my hotel. The first full day I was in London, I decided that shop would be my way of surviving monetarily while I was on vacation. It worked pretty well for me. I had yogurt and fruit for breakfast, enjoyed tea and a light “something” at whatever museum I hit in the afternoon, and ate a reasonable dinner.
I purchased an Oyster Card for the week. It didn’t take long for me to figure out the Underground system. A couple of times I got off at a station in error and when I did, I just jumped back on a different train or took time to study the map. My biggest goof was thinking I’d take pictures of an “English Garden” at Covent Garden. Imagine London’s version of Bourbon Street in New Orleans. The worst part of my getting off at that stop wasn’t that there wasn’t a garden but that the tube exits consisted of four cramped elevators that took FOR.EV.ER to get to street level.
I fell in love with all the variety at the tube stations. Each had its own personality. The unifying factor was that all had gum stuck to advertising posters. Movie stars’ nostrils in each station sprouted chewed juicy fruit. When I saw one without chewing gum, it looked somehow naked.
The first time I ventured out was to the Victoria and Albert Museum. Oh -the furniture, the fashion. And my first introduction to afternoon tea. It became something I indulged in daily and I continue to do so now.
The Saturday I was there, I made the most of a sunny day. I walked around St. James Cathedral and then over the Millennium Bridge to Tate Modern. Before entering the museum, I veered left and walked through the Borough Market where I found a delicious curry vegetarian wrap and spent some time visiting with the woman who ran the stall, cooking such delicious food. I walked back to the museum and took time to wander through the collection.
May 29 was a bank holiday. I went to Buckingham Palace and waited for the changing of the guard that never happened. Luckily there was also a 10K race that day and I stood at the finish line. I was able to see Mo Farah win the race. I also watched some crazy guy at the start take off in a full suit of armor. He wasn’t 1 mile in when Mr. Farah finished.
One day I stumbled upon a rehearsal of the London Symphony at Trafalgar Square. I sat outside and soaked up the sunshine and the tunes. I didn’t feed the pigeons.
My first stop at the National Gallery was unplanned and unprepared. I stopped in one afternoon after what felt like hours of walking…kind of sort of lost. I wandered around for about 30 minutes and decided I had to come back with plans to spend more time. I’m so glad I did. My second trip gave me the opportunity to luxuriate in the expanse of centuries of visual splendor. A bonus was the Michael Landy exhibit “Saints Alive”. It was a simultaneously fascinating and disturbing take on religious legends. At the National Gallery, I found Rembrandt, Vermeer, and Caravaggio. I sought out Seurat and Pissarro. I wandered into a small room, a cavern of darkness, and came face to face with a da Vinci. There were no signs to point me to it. Nobody nudged me toward this thing of beauty. It was purely by accident that I found it. Stunning. And enough of a surprise to shock me out of my blissful ignorance and force me into picking up a guide at the entrance to the National Portrait Gallery, my next stop.
I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. I have a fascination with many things Tudor. King Henry VIII, his wives, his court, etc. Especially after spending a week in London, I was anxious to put faces to my imagination. There is so much history on the walls of the National Portrait Gallery. Not only is royalty a big part of it, icons of literature, science, mathematics, exploration, and popular culture are all personified. Another bonus exhibit: George Catlin’s American Indian Portraits was showing. I’ve heard about them for so many years. I’ve seen pictures of them in books. Seeing them in person was a thrill. The depth and colors were amazing.
Tours: I took a tour arranged with the help of the hotel concierge. I went to Bath and to Stonehenge. Bath is a lovely little town and I wish I’d seen more of it than the tourism portion. I can now say I’ve seen flying buttresses. The roman baths were quasi-interesting. Being out of the city of London was nice for a day. I also wish I’d taken a smaller tour (like a mini-bus) instead of a big ol’ tour bus. Being a single, I was stuck in the middle back seat and it wasn’t easy to see out of the windows. Next time I’ll know better. I ate at Jamie Oliver’s Italian restaurant but before I could eat, an elderly woman fell and likely fractured her arm. I did a little first aid there in the restaurant. She and her husband were very sweet. I found out how emergency medicine works (in that city anyway). The restaurant called her a taxi and they fixed the old guy a panini while they waited. Everybody seemed happy. Go figure. Oh, my meal? Wild rabbit, fresh pasta and lemon mascarpone. And a glass of red wine. And then I was happy.
From Bath it was back on the bus and on to Stonehenge. Worth the trip. Absolutely. There were hundreds of people there and it was the quietest place I’ve ever seen. To say mystery is to understate dramatically. Go. Well, go if you’re into quiet and meditation and wonder. Otherwise, probably skip it.
The Tower of London: I arrived early and was one of the first people in line for an admission ticket. This was one of the only places I had to pay for a restroom (also Victoria Coach Station). It pays to keep a few coins on hand. I was only planning to stay a couple of hours at the Tower. I was there for six. So much of the history I’ve loved to read and study is tangled up in the Tower. The crowds grew as the day wore on. It was raining that day. The Beefeater Tours don’t let you hold up umbrellas on their tours. Yeah, pretty wet by the end of the day.
Theatre: I bought my tickets online at seetickets.com. Worked like a charm. My seat for “Book of Mormon” at the Prince of Wales Theatre was in the upper balcony and was perfectly fine. The show was hilarious and filthy. I laughed until I cried. The theatre was beautiful. For “Once” at the Phoenix Theatre, I sat in the sixth row. I’d been given a tip to go onstage prior to the show and purchase a drink. I’m so glad I did. The musicians were fantastic. The show was fantastic. It was…fantastic. The main difference I found between London theatre and New York theatre was that I didn’t have to arrive nearly as early in London as New York. Taking the Underground made arriving so much easier than dealing with New York traffic.
And one more thing. My last night I met new friends by way of old friends. We had a wonderful dinner then went back to their flat for champagne. I was made to feel welcome. It was so very lovely. It was the perfect ending to a perfect week.
Did I forget something? Maybe. It’s been over a month since I returned from this trip of a lifetime. I set out to explore on my own. I’m writing this more for me than for you. It seems a lifetime of events have happened since I returned and I didn’t want to forget THAT while I deal with THIS. I hope this makes sense. I owe it to myself to remember how much I enjoyed this trip and that I shouldn’t wait decades to take another. The question is, to where?
©Michelle Scofield, July 13, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Up at 5:30 this morning. Time to think while waiting for the sun to rise and then time to think while running. It’s been over a month since I returned from (so far) the trip of my lifetime – for many reasons. Since returning to Houston, I’ve hardly stopped to breathe. Until now. I don’t want to let this trip pass without taking the time to chronicle. My Blog is my diary.
Dear Diary,
My London trip changed my life. You know that. I’ll never forget parts of it but I’m afraid I might forget others. Please save this for me. Thanks, M
Nonstop from Houston to Heathrow on British Airways: Movies and television all the way. Meal service. Aisle seat. You bet!
I bought a roundtrip Heathrow Express ticket once I arrived at Heathrow. I’d do it again. What I’d do differently is NOT take a taxi from the train station to my hotel. I now know it’s not necessary but that day I was overcome by the enormity of the train station. I’d just arrived in Europe for the first time and all I wanted to do was get to my hotel.
Hyde Park: My stepping off point. I stayed at the Cumberland Hotel at Marble Arch. It was a great place to catch the Underground or a bus. Twice, I took long walks through the park. There are great walkways and bike paths. That first afternoon I had a strong desire to be outside and explore but felt disoriented. Give me a park and I’m usually ok. I walked to the Serpentine Café, bought a muffin and a cup of coffee and sat shivering in the cold and damp London weather. Smiling.
There was a Prêt a Manger on the corner, just steps from my hotel. The first full day I was in London, I decided that shop would be my way of surviving monetarily while I was on vacation. It worked pretty well for me. I had yogurt and fruit for breakfast, enjoyed tea and a light “something” at whatever museum I hit in the afternoon, and ate a reasonable dinner.
I purchased an Oyster Card for the week. It didn’t take long for me to figure out the Underground system. A couple of times I got off at a station in error and when I did, I just jumped back on a different train or took time to study the map. My biggest goof was thinking I’d take pictures of an “English Garden” at Covent Garden. Imagine London’s version of Bourbon Street in New Orleans. The worst part of my getting off at that stop wasn’t that there wasn’t a garden but that the tube exits consisted of four cramped elevators that took FOR.EV.ER to get to street level.
I fell in love with all the variety at the tube stations. Each had its own personality. The unifying factor was that all had gum stuck to advertising posters. Movie stars’ nostrils in each station sprouted chewed juicy fruit. When I saw one without chewing gum, it looked somehow naked.
The first time I ventured out was to the Victoria and Albert Museum. Oh -the furniture, the fashion. And my first introduction to afternoon tea. It became something I indulged in daily and I continue to do so now.
The Saturday I was there, I made the most of a sunny day. I walked around St. James Cathedral and then over the Millennium Bridge to Tate Modern. Before entering the museum, I veered left and walked through the Borough Market where I found a delicious curry vegetarian wrap and spent some time visiting with the woman who ran the stall, cooking such delicious food. I walked back to the museum and took time to wander through the collection.
May 29 was a bank holiday. I went to Buckingham Palace and waited for the changing of the guard that never happened. Luckily there was also a 10K race that day and I stood at the finish line. I was able to see Mo Farah win the race. I also watched some crazy guy at the start take off in a full suit of armor. He wasn’t 1 mile in when Mr. Farah finished.
One day I stumbled upon a rehearsal of the London Symphony at Trafalgar Square. I sat outside and soaked up the sunshine and the tunes. I didn’t feed the pigeons.
My first stop at the National Gallery was unplanned and unprepared. I stopped in one afternoon after what felt like hours of walking…kind of sort of lost. I wandered around for about 30 minutes and decided I had to come back with plans to spend more time. I’m so glad I did. My second trip gave me the opportunity to luxuriate in the expanse of centuries of visual splendor. A bonus was the Michael Landy exhibit “Saints Alive”. It was a simultaneously fascinating and disturbing take on religious legends. At the National Gallery, I found Rembrandt, Vermeer, and Caravaggio. I sought out Seurat and Pissarro. I wandered into a small room, a cavern of darkness, and came face to face with a da Vinci. There were no signs to point me to it. Nobody nudged me toward this thing of beauty. It was purely by accident that I found it. Stunning. And enough of a surprise to shock me out of my blissful ignorance and force me into picking up a guide at the entrance to the National Portrait Gallery, my next stop.
I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. I have a fascination with many things Tudor. King Henry VIII, his wives, his court, etc. Especially after spending a week in London, I was anxious to put faces to my imagination. There is so much history on the walls of the National Portrait Gallery. Not only is royalty a big part of it, icons of literature, science, mathematics, exploration, and popular culture are all personified. Another bonus exhibit: George Catlin’s American Indian Portraits was showing. I’ve heard about them for so many years. I’ve seen pictures of them in books. Seeing them in person was a thrill. The depth and colors were amazing.
Tours: I took a tour arranged with the help of the hotel concierge. I went to Bath and to Stonehenge. Bath is a lovely little town and I wish I’d seen more of it than the tourism portion. I can now say I’ve seen flying buttresses. The roman baths were quasi-interesting. Being out of the city of London was nice for a day. I also wish I’d taken a smaller tour (like a mini-bus) instead of a big ol’ tour bus. Being a single, I was stuck in the middle back seat and it wasn’t easy to see out of the windows. Next time I’ll know better. I ate at Jamie Oliver’s Italian restaurant but before I could eat, an elderly woman fell and likely fractured her arm. I did a little first aid there in the restaurant. She and her husband were very sweet. I found out how emergency medicine works (in that city anyway). The restaurant called her a taxi and they fixed the old guy a panini while they waited. Everybody seemed happy. Go figure. Oh, my meal? Wild rabbit, fresh pasta and lemon mascarpone. And a glass of red wine. And then I was happy.
From Bath it was back on the bus and on to Stonehenge. Worth the trip. Absolutely. There were hundreds of people there and it was the quietest place I’ve ever seen. To say mystery is to understate dramatically. Go. Well, go if you’re into quiet and meditation and wonder. Otherwise, probably skip it.
The Tower of London: I arrived early and was one of the first people in line for an admission ticket. This was one of the only places I had to pay for a restroom (also Victoria Coach Station). It pays to keep a few coins on hand. I was only planning to stay a couple of hours at the Tower. I was there for six. So much of the history I’ve loved to read and study is tangled up in the Tower. The crowds grew as the day wore on. It was raining that day. The Beefeater Tours don’t let you hold up umbrellas on their tours. Yeah, pretty wet by the end of the day.
Theatre: I bought my tickets online at seetickets.com. Worked like a charm. My seat for “Book of Mormon” at the Prince of Wales Theatre was in the upper balcony and was perfectly fine. The show was hilarious and filthy. I laughed until I cried. The theatre was beautiful. For “Once” at the Phoenix Theatre, I sat in the sixth row. I’d been given a tip to go onstage prior to the show and purchase a drink. I’m so glad I did. The musicians were fantastic. The show was fantastic. It was…fantastic. The main difference I found between London theatre and New York theatre was that I didn’t have to arrive nearly as early in London as New York. Taking the Underground made arriving so much easier than dealing with New York traffic.
And one more thing. My last night I met new friends by way of old friends. We had a wonderful dinner then went back to their flat for champagne. I was made to feel welcome. It was so very lovely. It was the perfect ending to a perfect week.
Did I forget something? Maybe. It’s been over a month since I returned from this trip of a lifetime. I set out to explore on my own. I’m writing this more for me than for you. It seems a lifetime of events have happened since I returned and I didn’t want to forget THAT while I deal with THIS. I hope this makes sense. I owe it to myself to remember how much I enjoyed this trip and that I shouldn’t wait decades to take another. The question is, to where?
©Michelle Scofield, July 13, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Sunday, July 7, 2013
Like Rain
8:30am 81 degrees 3.02 miles 35:36 11:48 pace
Back to Hermann Park this morning. To say I'm happy with this move is such an understatement but I'll say it again. I'm happy.
Last night I met up with friends for a free concert at Miller Outdoor Theatre. We sat on our blankets and enjoyed the music of the band War. (A little research tells me that there have been a few disputes about who is War and what constitutes a band when the original members aren't still playing, etc, etc...) Anyway...they still sounded like the War I remember as a kid. And I mean as a kid, like 12.
Above all else, I am a fan of funk.
Laying on that blanket last night, the haze and smog of the city blocking out all but the most stubborn of stars, I was taken back to Riverside Park in Wichita, Kansas. I can remember seeing big gatherings taking place. Some families seemed to have all the fun. There were lots of kids running around, several picnic tables pulled together, and music. LOUD music. It was like a magnet. And I was always physically pulled in a wide arc away from those gatherings. Big crowds at Riverside Park in the late 60's could turn dangerous very quickly. At least that was what I was told. But that music...
And the bowling alley. Crestview Lanes had a grill that wasn't a restaurant, it was a bar. My mom was assistant manager at Crestview. She was also a single mom. Where do you think I spent many Friday and Saturday nights? The music floated out of the grill onto the lanes and I practiced more than one dance move with other kids who had parents who seemed to live at the bowling alley.
My earliest 8-track and vinyl collection wasn't sophistocated enough to rebel in the direction I would eventually land. I had a lot of Elton John and Jim Croce. That's what a straight-A, responsible white girl did. She bought what her friends bought. Then I moved across town and...
...I had a completely irresponsible neighbor named Walter. He was a year older than me and he, in turn, had an even wilder, older sister. Neither went to school on a regular basis. Both spent hour upon hour in their basement in a haze of smoke and music. And I loved hanging out at their house. My perception was that their parents had given up any hopes of them graduating and were simply trying to keep them from getting arrested. As long as they were home and not on the streets, anything was okay. These two had all the food, drink, air conditioning, and music they wanted during summers off. Their house was full of long-haired, pot-smoking, peace-loving deadbeats. Peripherally, I was a fascinated hanger-on and they allowed it.
Jimi Hendrix, War, Deep Purple, David Bowie, Rufus, James Brown.
Hours of the stuff.
Last night, thousands of people sat on a hill and the funk fell on us like rain we'd been thirsting for. And we grooved together.
"The World is a Ghetto"
"Cisco Kid"
"Low Rider"
"Why Can't We Be Friends?"
Indeed.
©Michelle Scofield, July 7, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Back to Hermann Park this morning. To say I'm happy with this move is such an understatement but I'll say it again. I'm happy.
Last night I met up with friends for a free concert at Miller Outdoor Theatre. We sat on our blankets and enjoyed the music of the band War. (A little research tells me that there have been a few disputes about who is War and what constitutes a band when the original members aren't still playing, etc, etc...) Anyway...they still sounded like the War I remember as a kid. And I mean as a kid, like 12.
Above all else, I am a fan of funk.
Laying on that blanket last night, the haze and smog of the city blocking out all but the most stubborn of stars, I was taken back to Riverside Park in Wichita, Kansas. I can remember seeing big gatherings taking place. Some families seemed to have all the fun. There were lots of kids running around, several picnic tables pulled together, and music. LOUD music. It was like a magnet. And I was always physically pulled in a wide arc away from those gatherings. Big crowds at Riverside Park in the late 60's could turn dangerous very quickly. At least that was what I was told. But that music...
And the bowling alley. Crestview Lanes had a grill that wasn't a restaurant, it was a bar. My mom was assistant manager at Crestview. She was also a single mom. Where do you think I spent many Friday and Saturday nights? The music floated out of the grill onto the lanes and I practiced more than one dance move with other kids who had parents who seemed to live at the bowling alley.
My earliest 8-track and vinyl collection wasn't sophistocated enough to rebel in the direction I would eventually land. I had a lot of Elton John and Jim Croce. That's what a straight-A, responsible white girl did. She bought what her friends bought. Then I moved across town and...
...I had a completely irresponsible neighbor named Walter. He was a year older than me and he, in turn, had an even wilder, older sister. Neither went to school on a regular basis. Both spent hour upon hour in their basement in a haze of smoke and music. And I loved hanging out at their house. My perception was that their parents had given up any hopes of them graduating and were simply trying to keep them from getting arrested. As long as they were home and not on the streets, anything was okay. These two had all the food, drink, air conditioning, and music they wanted during summers off. Their house was full of long-haired, pot-smoking, peace-loving deadbeats. Peripherally, I was a fascinated hanger-on and they allowed it.
Jimi Hendrix, War, Deep Purple, David Bowie, Rufus, James Brown.
Hours of the stuff.
Last night, thousands of people sat on a hill and the funk fell on us like rain we'd been thirsting for. And we grooved together.
"The World is a Ghetto"
"Cisco Kid"
"Low Rider"
"Why Can't We Be Friends?"
Indeed.
©Michelle Scofield, July 7, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Saturday, July 6, 2013
The Park
7:45am 82 degrees 3.27 miles 38:25 11:45 pace
No physical pain with my run this morning.
Much to see along the way.
The tiny train wasn't running yet. The zoo isn't open until later this morning. 4 lady geese stood next to the tracks. They seemed to be waiting for a ride.
Just past the fountains, an ancient man in white pants and belted robe silently practiced tai chi sending two massive red fans through swirls and sworls as a chiseled young man sat on a stone bench near him. His head was bowed in what...meditation? anguish? sleep? prayer?
The Park People were rising from their nests. I'm starting to recognize some of them.
I wonder if any of them can achieve real rest out there. In the open. In this heat.
©Michelle Scofield, July 6, 2013 All Rights Reserved
No physical pain with my run this morning.
Much to see along the way.
The tiny train wasn't running yet. The zoo isn't open until later this morning. 4 lady geese stood next to the tracks. They seemed to be waiting for a ride.
Just past the fountains, an ancient man in white pants and belted robe silently practiced tai chi sending two massive red fans through swirls and sworls as a chiseled young man sat on a stone bench near him. His head was bowed in what...meditation? anguish? sleep? prayer?
The Park People were rising from their nests. I'm starting to recognize some of them.
I wonder if any of them can achieve real rest out there. In the open. In this heat.
©Michelle Scofield, July 6, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Choices
7:20am 3.49 miles 38:29 11:02 pace 78degrees
I received no less than 4 email notices for 4th of July races. I saved them for a few weeks but ultimately they were deleted. It would be too hot. I've spent a lot of money lately and I can run for free. I would want to rest on my day off work in the middle of the week. Reason after reason after reason.
I've been running/walking/stair climbing. I ran on the treadmill Tuesday night because it's been too dangerously hot outside to be in the park and my eyes and lungs have been bothered by (I'm guessing?) high ozone levels in Houston. (Possibly by a fire in my neighborhood Tuesday morning. Could be.) Anyway...I picked up some liquid tears and I'm feeling a lot better.
My stress levels were higher than the temperature as I went through American Heart Association Advanced Cardiac Life Support certification this week. It's been several years since I had to memorize heart blocks and cardiac medication doses. I was feeling old and memory-impaired. I was worried. Really, really worried. Without ACLS certification my job would be on the line. (This certification wasn't a requirement when I was hired and I thought ACLS was far behind me.) I passed my course yesterday, stuck my card in my briefcase, drove home, and passed out on my couch for a 2 hour nap. I woke long enough to fix a healthy dinner, watched some trash television and then collapsed in bed and slept through the night.
On waking this morning, I wanted nothing more than to go for a run.
It wasn't too hot and I wasn't too tired.
I didn't miss driving to some crowded venue to fight for a parking spot and standing around on the asphalt - wishing I'd visited the port-a-potty one more time.
I'm enjoying my cup of coffee, half a bagel, and peanut butter.
Happy Independence Day and here's to the freedom to make choices.
©Michelle Scofield, July 4, 2013 All Rights Reserved
I received no less than 4 email notices for 4th of July races. I saved them for a few weeks but ultimately they were deleted. It would be too hot. I've spent a lot of money lately and I can run for free. I would want to rest on my day off work in the middle of the week. Reason after reason after reason.
I've been running/walking/stair climbing. I ran on the treadmill Tuesday night because it's been too dangerously hot outside to be in the park and my eyes and lungs have been bothered by (I'm guessing?) high ozone levels in Houston. (Possibly by a fire in my neighborhood Tuesday morning. Could be.) Anyway...I picked up some liquid tears and I'm feeling a lot better.
My stress levels were higher than the temperature as I went through American Heart Association Advanced Cardiac Life Support certification this week. It's been several years since I had to memorize heart blocks and cardiac medication doses. I was feeling old and memory-impaired. I was worried. Really, really worried. Without ACLS certification my job would be on the line. (This certification wasn't a requirement when I was hired and I thought ACLS was far behind me.) I passed my course yesterday, stuck my card in my briefcase, drove home, and passed out on my couch for a 2 hour nap. I woke long enough to fix a healthy dinner, watched some trash television and then collapsed in bed and slept through the night.
On waking this morning, I wanted nothing more than to go for a run.
It wasn't too hot and I wasn't too tired.
I didn't miss driving to some crowded venue to fight for a parking spot and standing around on the asphalt - wishing I'd visited the port-a-potty one more time.
I'm enjoying my cup of coffee, half a bagel, and peanut butter.
Happy Independence Day and here's to the freedom to make choices.
©Michelle Scofield, July 4, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
