First friend

I remember my first friend. Tanys. Inseparable. We thought she would marry my brother and we would be "REAL" sisters forever. My mom sewed us identical outfits in different colours. Tanys was always yellow, me pink. Our moms coordinated birthday and Christmas gifts so we always had the same things. I was heartbroken when Tanys moved on in life to new friends and boys and schools. We called each other's parents by their first names. We played on the same softball team from t-ball until after we could drive ourselves to our games. We were both pitchers. We both played piano. We loved the Blue Jays and had posters of our favourite players up in our rooms. Our entirely pink rooms.

We are still friends, though mainly over facebook. When I became pregnant she sent me all these gifts, some of them being things that were just SO Tanys, meaning I would never have picked them out. Tanys LOVES Disneyworld. Her grandparents lived in Florida growing up so she went there a lot, and over the years I think she found different, new ways to love the experience, from sharing it with her husband, her daughter, etc. Either way, do I like Disneyland? Meh, not really! I may even be "against" Disney in what it has to offer in the way of consumer capitalism. But I love that she loves Disney. Because it was originally a way of being. A happy place where kids are forever. Innocent and joyful. Like Tanys.

When Tanys sent a huge (HUGE!) Mickey Mouse in the mail from Saskatoon to Charlie, I could only giggle. SO Tanys. I love her like a sister. Only a sister can be so different from you but not be offensive in any way. "Mickey" is one of Charlie's best pals now. He loves hugging him and biting his big nose. For a long time, Mickey was bigger than Charlie. I think it helped their relationship.
Some of my granola friends are a little surprised Charlie has a Mickey Mouse friend. But that makes me love Tanys even more. She is a nurse and so loving and giving.

This morning Charlie walked into daycare with me and his little buddy Paige came up and gave him a big hug. A couple weeks ago I learned Charlie had a friend named Riley at daycare who he was following around the slides and little plastic houses. Now Paige. Both girls (my little ladies man).

Seeing Charlie develop a friend or two makes me miss Tanys so bad it hurts my heart. In the best possible way.

Reason to Jog Reminder #816

Getting caught in a flash rain/hail storm on the lunch break. I can't think of a better WakeUp Activity than running AND a shower!
Refreshing, adventurous and uplifting.

Why I run: Reminder #416

I went for my lunchbreak jog alone today. It was drizzling outside, high teens, and of course, perfect running weather. However, so many days can be cancelled due to the following excuses, all of which occurred for me this morning.
I'm sore from (blank) and the run will be painful, long and bring me no joy.
I'm having irritable bowels (again) and the run will make it worse.
I should be doing (blank) instead.
I shouldn't take a lunch and leave early so I can pick up the kid from daycare a little earlier.
I won't lose any weight, binge later in the day, and it won't make me feel good.
I will have really bad hair after running in this humidity/rain.
I will be really sweaty for my meeting.
I will probably stink for my meeting.
I can't jog alone because it is too boring.

But today, I went anyways. ALone to confront my stressed out thoughts, sore body and bad humidity hair.

I never time my runs, or care how far I go. I aim for my "loop" and that's about it. Which at times makes the whole thing feel pointless. Why do I go? What is my goal? When will I run a race? Get a personal best, join a jogging group, improve, improve, improve.

Today, lost in thought running through the old-growth trees on St. George's Island, without any people in sight, the traffic noises barely audible along Memorial, suddenly I came upon a Merganser duck mom. She was taking her ducklings, about 8 of them, out of their tree nest, across the sidewalk and into the river. I arrived just as the last few were flopping out of the tree from way up high, right in front of me.

I stood completely in awe.

No longer was I constrained by thoughts. Thoughts of my life. Self-pitying thought of being a tired mom, a sore renovator, an insignificant office worker, a cranky and often angry 31 year old woman.

All in that one moment of seeing the rare duck and her duckling, I felt like a complete creature. I was a creature mom waiting out of respect for this duck mom to move her kids along. I was completely absorbed in this scene.

 The rain drizzling onto me, warm from my jog, air fresh, plants dense and green, it was a scene of Mother Earth, of the nature that is just a quick jaunt from any downtown or suburb. It was a reason to be alive to be witness to this. To be whacked upside the head by beauty and be reminded of my physical essence on earth as just another creature. It pratically had me in tears, which is the obvious touch of pure sublimeness, being a sense of both pain and pleasure. 

I waited for them to disappear into the plants, then with a sudden vitality of energy and life in me, I sprang back into my jog. My hamstrings and quads had a strength that could only be brought on by true and pure inspiration. Not owing to nutrition (a sugary mocha being my only that morning), not owing to hydration (certainly not considering the beer and wings from last night), and not owing to any complex carb-loading/running shoe technology/lululemon-jogging gear, I ran back to the office at a breakneck speed. Like a disciple spreading the word, I felt I had a mission to share this with another human. To let them know the secret to life. The secret just over there, just behind the plants bordering the downtown. Just beyond the pedestrian bridge that takes you into the real life.

 I'm glad I jogged at lunch. This is why I do it.