Dandelions and Daydreams

When I was a senior in High school, it was bomb threats. Every Friday afternoon for about 5 weeks straight we had a bomb threat. I think by the end of the year we were at 11 or 12 for the school year. We all made a joke of it. The fact is, I didn’t know any other way to cope with the fear. I had to be at school, I had to face the danger.

Last night at Books-a-Million, I overheard some high schoolers talking about trouble brewing at the school. Some of the students enrolled because of Katrina were causing trouble and threatening to bring guns to school today (Friday). I could hear the same fear in their voices. What is tomorrow going to bring? And I saw the same joking confidence used to cope with the fear.

What will tomorrow bring? I don’t know. Only God knows.

I am a runner.

I am not a runner because of the length of time I can run.
I am not a runner because of the incredible speed I have.
I am not a runner because of my lean muscular body.
I am not a runner because I have always been.

I just started running. I am slow, out of shape, and easily fatigued.
I am a runner because I finish my run and want to start again as soon as I catch my breath.
I am a runner because I run out my frustrations.
I am a runner because I plan my day around running.
I am a runner because I have a date scheduled with myself 3 days a week and sometimes I go out more.
I am a runner because I can.

“From the moment they wake they devote themselves to the perfection of whatever they pursue.”

I’ve been thinking about this quote. How much could we accomplish if we work dawn to dusk towards perfection.

Sabino Canyon Dusk
Image by Eyz via Flickr used with permission CC-BY-ND 2.0

I thought it might take a long time to get there. Several weeks of agony, seconds seemed like hours. I could only focus on getting more oxygen. I gasped for breath. I forced my leaden legs to take more steps to finish my time. Somewhere on the back stretch, as I turned into married student housing, everything faded away. Suddenly breaths came easier. The road seemed less crowded. It was just me and the road. The sky above and the pavement below. I lost myself in the trance of hearing my feet hit the pavement. I meditated on the weightless moment between one foot rising and the other foot hitting the ground. Suddenly, I knew…I was in the zone.

Some days, I just want to travel. There are so many places I’ve never been, so many things I’ve never seen. I think it may be something about the weather. The weather was like this when I turned 16 almost 7 years ago. Gas was 79c per gallon. I had a little Mazda B2200 with a stick shift. It was super fun to drive around in the North Georgia Mountains. This weather makes me feel sixteen again. It makes me want to test my wings out again. It makes me wonder if I am ready for this world.

It’s a fresh and exciting new feeling. I don’t feel quite so stale as fall comes along. I feel like listening to all those old songs. How could I forget that the song of the year was “Sunny Came Home.” 1998 was a very good year.