Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Run

This post is dedicated to the memory of John S., who loved nothing more than his family and his bike rides.

In the waning daylight hours of a summer evening, the problems and worries that plague my mind dissolve into manicured lawns and law abiding drivers meandering down the street. There is no oil spill in the gulf, no war in Afghanistan, no poverty, no imprisoned innocents. There are no abused or neglected children. There is no threat of my career extinction from Healthcare Reform. There are only the bright flowers lovingly planted in front yards, rows of mailboxes, and refreshingly green trees and shrubs.

A man plays frisbee with his dog, and a mother and daughter step aside to let me pass. A dad waves to me as his little girl speeds past him on her bike.

I weave between houses, past private backyard sanctuaries where people enjoy their lives, their most precious moments, away from work and traffic and illness and suffering and and...

But I digress.

Each song changes my gait, just slightly, to conform with the new feeling; Jordin Sparks fades to Amy Winehouse, and Justin Timberlake hip hops his way into my stride. 

Manure and blackberries mesh together in a country perfume that caresses my senses. The grass is impossibly green; a gift of the wretched, tireless rain that plagues us in Spring, and returns like an unwanted visit from a relative in October. Today, the rain has yielded to a sunlit evening that sparkles like a child from a warm bath. Fluffy clouds dot the horizon beneath the welcoming blue sky.

Kanye's 'Stronger' reverberates in my ears and my heart follows dutifully to the beat. The kids are tucked in bed as I stretch the tightly wound cord that tethers me to home. I see the pale green house where my hopes and dreams are kept safe; where my children will grow and dream of when they are adults, just like I dream of my own childhood home.

I am not running away anymore, I'm running towards life.
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This post is also an homage to Linda over at All & Sundry, who inspires me with her determination.

1 comment:

  1. Thanks for sharing this with me, it's very poetic and beautiful! I'm no speedy uber-athlete but finally realised I'd run long enough to call myself a runner. If you run (jog, who decides which is which?), you are a runner too. ;-) Looking forward to reading more. Will catch up on the rest of your blog soon!

    ReplyDelete

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