Happy Inauguration Day!

It's about time.

Our family joins the world today as we watch the Inauguration of President Barack Hussein Obama. We pray for his safety, and the safety and well being of his family, our nation and world. We eagerly await his Executive order to close the doors at Guantanamo Bay and end this era of American shame.

This is the first President our daughter will have any personal memory of. It means so much to me that it will be Barack Obama.

I was describing to my wise Auntie today the difficulty I was having with telling my two year old baby about Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. The "problem" is that she is innocent of any idea about racism or racial disharmony. In her school there are children from all over the world; many speak different languages at home. She has no idea that this could ever be considered unusual, or problematic. My wise Auntie told me to tell her that Dr. King was a good man and talk about what he did for all human rights. Good advice. So I told my baby that Dr. King was a good, brave man and he helped everybody learn to love each other better. He wanted all the children to grow up feeling strong and loved. Oh, she says, like Jesus!

Yes, I told her. Like Jesus.

So we pray for peace tonight and in the days to come. Especially for the safety of President Obama and his family, that he not be one of our young martyrs. We want him here for the long haul, for the lifetime of service and inspiration he can provide for the fierce urgency of now, and tomorrow.

Happy Inauguration Day. Joyous return to the Declaration of Independence, the Declaration of Human Rights, the tenets of the Geneva Convention. Happy birthday to Dr. King. Raise a glass with me to a better future for all of our children, wherever you are today.

Here's a link to Dr. King's "I Have a Dream" speech, if you'd like to take a moment and remember where we have been and what we have hoped for.

Friends and French Toast

Time: Saturday morning, 9 am
Weather: crisp, cold, 36F with some overcast
Trail: soft surface, well maintained, great trail. The one that loops around the wetlands refuge area.
Baggage: None

No baggage? Nope, the friend that slogged with me makes me feel so right, so totally at peace in my world, that even the extra pounds seem to disappear. She is certainly essential to me, but as she carries her own self so well, she can hardly be described as baggage. Or perhaps we are each other's baggage... what I'm sure of is that it all evens up in the end. All I carried was the auto key fob for the car... not even the cell phone.

DH kept all our (3) beautiful children safe and fed while we slogged for about an hour. I have to admit it was more talking than running... but some, slow running happened along the river. Okay, it was about my usual pace, but my friend's femurs are about 3 inches longer than mine... she can walk at the pace I "run." As she demonstrated. Did I mention that I love her and that it's a good thing that I do, 'cause she's obnoxious?

Apparently, local convention is to ignore the "dogs on leash only" signs on Saturday mornings. This works for me. We got to stop frequently to greet dogs big, small, wet and merely moist.

And then we drove home and opened the door to toys everywhere, constant giggles from all three kids (ages 10, 5 and 2), and the smell of french toast and bacon. Mmmm, bacon.

What a great morning.

We spent most of the rest of the day in a shopping marathon. It's odd to me that the aisles for things like birth control and menstrual products make me cringe a bit. They aren't just aisles of stuff I don't use (like the automotive section.) They remind me of how my body has changed, post cancer. Right now, that reminder causes some pain, even some shame. As though I am less a woman (to myself) than I was before.

Lucky for me, this same lovely friend, who saw me through infertility and adoption angst, has told me for years "You are more than just your uterus!" As her mother just died from the same type of cancer that isn't killing me, this carries some extra weight now. I am more than my reproductive ability to her, to my family, to anyone that matters.

And the fact of my infertility, now total, does color my relationships with my husband, daughter, parents and myself. It does. Because it's part of my story, because it made adoption necessary once and will again if we decide to have more children. Because we'll never have sex again while hoping for / welcoming a baby. Because my parents will never see their genetic material propagated into the next generation.

All of that is true. And none of it matters to the people who love me. Not as much as my continuing presence in their lives. I know that. It's one of the reasons I opted for an immediate hysterectomy, though the oncologist offered the option of waiting and trying for pregnancy before treating the cancer. Because I am more than my uterus. My relationship with my daughter is about far more than her adoption.

So I'll run again tomorrow morning, at little faster pace. I'll probably have my daughter and dog with me, and all of their stuff. I'll probably feel all of those extra pounds again, plus a couple more contributed by my special pecan baked french toast. But I'll be out there.

Rain and Morning

Time: 10 am
Weather: cold rain, becoming a perfect, crisp 50 F morning with high clouds and slanting sun.
trail: lovely, groomed soft trail along a river, through a wildlife resource area.
baggage: best ever daughter, bundled against the cold, stroller, rain cover, keys, call phone, snacks, sippy cup, flashlight, toy frog, nook (pacifier).

Gorgeous run this morning. We earned good runner karma for being willing to go out in the rain and then everything cleared and became perfect for a long run. We were out for an hour. I casually alternated 1 and 2 minute runs with 4 and 3 minute walks until I was warmed up, then alternated 5-8 minute runs with enough walking to catch my breath. Best daughter sang to herself, pointed, babbled in sign language and giggled when we went over a bumpy section of trail.

We saw a train, and waved to the engineer. We saw a flock of cormorants drying their wings in a tree, looking like bats that have been unaccountably turned right side up. We saw coots, Canada geese, mallard ducks, squirrels and a red tailed hawk. There was a chorus of sparrows and finches in the tree tops. The drops of rain falling from the trees formed a soft percussion with my footfalls and the sound of my breath. All I wanted was to go farther and faster.

I am longing for the day when I can run without pain for miles, propelling myself along new trails at a speed I choose. I can't wait to see what new sites are just beyond the next bend, and the next.

Classes started again today. Physics, chemistry and calculus, and laboratories. Going well so far... the physics prof is a nut, so that should be a fun class. He made me feel more hopeful than terrified, which is great. Considering that I took the prerequisite for this class 12 years ago... and then wiped it from my memory.

Blue Sky

Or, I can see clearly now, the rain is gone.....

(Sorry about the earwig.....you may be humming it all day)

time: 3pm
weather: Gorgeous. Blue Sky, wisps of cloud, 45 F.
trail: woodchip, less deep mud.
baggage: dog, leash, bag, keys, extra pounds, dread of classes starting Monday..... that's it.

Today held lots to be grateful for:

The sun (of course)

Husband and darling daughter in playground adjacent to trail

High- fives from daughter whenever I slogged past

The absolute sweetness of my TJ.... he's dumb as buttered toast, would rather tie me up than defend me and "forgets" to heel whenever a new smell wafts past (that would be, um, always). But he is a sweetheart and a fun companion.

Moving my body, in spite of cancer, gravity, schedules, everything

We caught the cancer early

My Spanish speaking neighbors, many of whom use the same trail. I can practice my (breathless) Spanish on them as I run.

Today's slog was 2 minutes running, 3 walking. My shins were hurting, so I reminded myself to lift with my thighs and stop pushing off with my toes. I wiggled my toes to keep them relaxed and the shin pain stopped. I finished with 8 minutes of running, once I was warmed up.

I may have overdone it with the final 8 minute run, but it's all okay. The husband and I decided to (finally) celebrate our anniversary tonight.... so we rented a hot tub and soaked for an hour before dinner and a movie. The hot tub was just what my sore legs needed, time together was just what we needed, dinner was good and Daniel Craig makes a great James Bond, in my opinion.

It was a good, problem solving run, and a good day. I am learning to work with my body again. It feels like I am beginning to move back into myself. The cancer, and the pain after surgery, was alienating. My body wasn't a place I wanted to live in. Running is helping me reintegrate myself and my body.