Sunday, May 24, 2009
It was raining this morning and I enjoyed feeling my shoulders get wet. I admired the low clouds cloaking the green mountains. I let my eyes linger upon the rain-darkened tree trunks. I thought clearly. I thought how nice it was to be the sole person out on the street. I looked up the canyon where I went hiking yesterday with Margie.
Rainy days make me just as happy as sunny days do.
I must remember that as I leave now for church meetings (not that they don't make me happy...I suppose I let myself become less happy when I let the stress crowd out happy things).
Life is grand.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
Joyeux anniversaire, mon frere!
Andrew is fancy because he wears pink hats on family road-trips. This particular fanciness was not even a direct result of an epic saga about Lewis and Clark; it evolved naturally. Fancy.
Je t'aime. Gros bisous et a bientot.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Saturday I completed my first official running race since running in one cross country meet in high school. I didn't quite know what to expect, so I just ran with all I had. And it didn't turn out too badly.
Highlights of the day included:
- live band playing at the start, jamming out Neil Young's "Long May You Run" (pretty much one of my favorite songs)
- the gorgeous route: waterfalls included
- keeping track in my head and on my fingers each mile's split
- feeling extra strong all through the canyon
- pushing through to the end
- Margie cheering for me (she's just the greatest!)
- getting a far better time than I anticipated
- cheering, close to two hours, for people I don't even know
- running the finish again, this time with Lisa
- drinking heaps of water
Last highlight: getting a little plaque. I debated mentioning this because I don't want to boast or be seen as pompous etc. etc. etc. But I just feel like I really earned this one. I didn't simply breeze through it. I don't know quite how to explain it. Hmmm, I've long ago thrown away most of my swim plaques and medals; this one means more to me right now. Plus I like the saying on it:
Friday, May 15, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Ben Folds: Time
Death Cab for Cutie: Grapevine Fires
Guster: I Spy
Coldplay: 'Til Kingdom Come
Eight days of school left for me. Yikes. In 48 hours I will be on the starting line for the Ogden half marathon. Also yikes. In two weeks, bonjour la France! Already missing Si and Eli. I will be putting up a few pictures from their visit as soon as I find a spare moment.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Here’s my side of the story in case you happen to hear it from someone else (cough, ahem: Nantsu, Guya). I feel I need to let my voice be heard. Why? Guya has taken it upon herself to link my blog to hers with the following label: My Graceful Sister.
Not so. Not so much. Not at all.
Honestly. I don’t know quite how it started, but two of my lovely siblings took it upon themselves to deem me as graceful. They incessantly commented,
“Oh, Analyn, you’re so graceful,”
“Wow, look how gracefully Analyn does the dishes,”
“I wish I was as graceful as Analyn.”
These remarks always made me almost-retch, and by that I mean: they rather irked and bothered me because I am not one-cent-worth graceful. Siblings, though, do have a fancy way of precisely and pointedly irritating. I still loved them despite my new label. I simply felt quite at odds with grace.
These graceful statements began last summer and continued into our trip to
As one of the ones prepared to cycle away, I had already adorned my head with my helmet. As we puttered around, I needed something from the back of the van. I turned to retrieve the item and smacked my head straight into the back door of the van. Usually when it’s open all the way, there’s more than enough clearance for my head. But, alas, it was not open all the way. It hung down a few inches more than usual because of the car-topper. Bam. Smack. Bang. Insert any sound effect and it would probably do the job. Luckily, I had my helmet on, remember? I was a little dazed, but not harmed in the least bit. No one laughed for a couple seconds, and I knew what was coming after the startled silence. So I started, “Don’t say it,” just as my brother and sister simultaneously began, “Wow, look how gracefully Analyn handled that.”
Laughter ensued and I even smiled while trying to keep up my frustrated glare. It didn’t work for long.
I still fight the graceful label, but I try not to give as big of a reaction when such is applied. I’m trying to take it all in gracefully.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Climbing yesterday has left me without words. It was such a gorgeous day and I learned lots of new things about setting the rope and such. I'm certainly addicted and I'm going to hit up the R.E.I. sale this weekend for some gear. Smitten I am. Not too many things can beat working your way up the rock, sun on your face, slight breeze coming in from the right, friends below, blue sky above. Everything and nothing comes into focus at once, even though that seems contradictory.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
1. Morning run.
2. Climbing--real, authentic, outside climbing.
3. Ultimate frisbee.
Yes, I'm lucky.
Also, I finally let myself look at the calendar and count how many days left I have of school. 15. Holy junk monkey! I can't believe this school year is really coming to such a quick close.
Listening to Mr. Tambourine Man (Bob Dylan) and just enjoyed a Neil Young song I've never heard before--Thrasher. I could listen to Neil Young all day long.
Monday, May 4, 2009
When night comes early and darkness
fills the streets, all the way
from the cold road past roofs and chimneys
to the colder stars, he takes
his tennis ball to the circle of light
beneath the street lamp. And begins. He taps
the ball from one foot to the other, walks
it about the iron standard, patting it
with deft little directives of his shoes,
never letting it out of his easy reach,
as Con Holland had taught him.
Now he is trotting, the ball
two smooth inches from his toes,
never getting away, never breaking
the rhythm of the circle
around the lamp-post. And he
dances after it, swaying from side
to side, feinting with hips and shoulders
so that imaginary tacklers sprawl
behind him, and the little
grey ball veers minutely
in its steady circling as he steers
and strokes it.
‘Be in control,’
Con Holland had said, ‘Keep the ball
with you, protect it, push it and pat it,
left foot and right foot’.
So he runs around
in the ring of light, a small thin boy,
until his running is automatic and the ball’s
response is to something other than his feet,
something different, a sudden unity,
a harmony, like happiness.
Knowing he can do anything,
he pounces two-footed, traps
the ball between his feet, throws it
a yard in front of him, and lofts
its bounce head high, holds it a moment
on his forehead, allows it to drop
to his lifted thigh, pause, and fall,
soft as a mouse, to the ground.
He repeats this again and again, until
it is perfect beyond anticipation.
And goes home.
Although it is dark
he can almost see his white shorts
folded on the bedside chair, with
his new stockings. His shirt, red
with gold sleeves, is on a hanger
behind the door. He is straight
and calm in his sheets. His bed
is flat as a field.
‘Be aware’, Con Holland had warned,
‘of every man on the field. Protect
the ball, move it safely. Know
where everybody is. And best of all,
know the spaces between them.
Keep the ball until you know those spaces.
Push the ball at exact speeds
into spaces your men can run to fill.’
Almost asleep, he imagines the green game
in the morning, how the ball will roll
into the spaces between his friends,
intricately connecting them,
a web, a moving thread of playing.
And on the touchline fathers and brothers
and people who leave their cars
to watch boys play soccer, they too
have their spaces, move into them,
shouting their support.
And behind them are the spaces of their homes,
the places they work, the places of traveling,
all to be filled, people moving at exact speeds,
all intricately connected.
who’s gone to Australia, there’s a huge space.
We are connected,
he thinks, turning into the warm darkness,
we are all the same.
I adore, love, and admire this poem. For one, I'm simply in love with true football. Also: We are connected. We are all the same.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
May is National Bike Month
May 15th is Bike to Work Day!
Why Ride your Bike?For your health, for the world, for our future, for 2 miles or less
With the world facing skyrocketing obesity rates, escalating traffic congestion and the concerns of global climate change, the bicycle is an underutilized solution.
For your health
The average person loses 13 lbs. their first year of commuting by bike.
Just 3 hours of bicycling per week can reduce your risk of heart disease and stroke by 50%.
A 140-pound cyclist burns 508 calories while pedaling 14 miles in an hour.
For the world
The U.S. could save 462 million gallons of gasoline a year by increasing cycling from 1% to 1.5% of all trips.
Each U.S. rush-hour auto commuter spends an average of 50 hours a year stuck in traffic.
In 2003, cars idling in traffic wasted 5 billion gallons of fuel.
For our future
In 1964 50% of kids rode to school and the obesity rate was 12%…in 2004, 3% rode to school and the obesity rate was 45%.
Between 1960 and today the average weight of a 6-11 year old has increased 11 pounds.
For 2 miles or less
60% of the pollution created by automobile emissions happens in the first few minutes of operation, before pollution control devices can work effectively.
24% of all trips are made within a mile of the home, 40% of all trips are made within two miles of the home, and 50% of the working population commutes five miles or less to work.
I got this from a fellow teacher yesterday. He emailed it to everyone in the school. Made me happy to know that I rode my bike to school the first day of May without any knowledge of May being national bike month. I love biking!
Friday, May 1, 2009
Lua and Marie are holding hands.
They look like they're so happy, just inside this moment, watching the kids and the lights on their old fibro house.
Lua kisses her.
Just softly on the lips.
And she kisses back.
Sometimes people are beautiful.
Not in looks.
Not in what they say.
Just in what they are."
What do I know, then? All I know in this moment is this:
I love staying up past my bedtime to read a delicious book.
I love grapefruit.
I love that it's Friday.
I love my bike.
I love my family and friends.
I love that in a month I'll be bashing around Europe with my family.
I love people and the beauty within them.
I love listening to Band of Horses.
I love going to gallery stroll with lovelies (tonight! can't wait).
I love hope.
So that was more a list of love rather than know, but there you have it. Laters and loves.