Thursday, June 28, 2012
Oh Man! Does this capture it or what?!
Let's embellish that simple Nike slogan, "Just Do It," shall we?
I love this woman's pensivity. Even though she's exerting a lot of energy instead of thoughfully looking out a window, the brain is dwelling and thoughts are flowing back and forth. I can read her mind.
She gives off the vibe that she's capable of handling it all. Her life is an act of spinning plates. That is to be taken figuratively and literally. Dinner at six, seven, and sometimes eight o'clock. The times vary but she can count on pulling a rabbit out of a hat when it comes to serving up vittles for her family.
In between the mental grocery list, she pants and starts praying a rosary. The Apostle's Creed she begins to recite and tries not to rush through it mindless. It's difficult when keeping pace with rising cardio. She counts on her fingers, the Hail Marys'. She purposes her feelings, her thoughts, the demands of her life towards Christ, leaning on our Blessed Mother for companionship.
She keeps in balance the fact that her life is about 1/2 over and a slowing metablolism makes it difficult to keep those fickle five pounds off. If she could just drink water, eat veggies and fruit and skip dessert tonight, she could find 500 calories between the run and her diet. She ponders a cliche' that her daughter mentioned, "Abs aren't made in the gym, they're made in the kitchen."
"What do you want for almost 48?" She asks herself. Vanity, vanity...all is vanity.
She wonders about her sons and tags them on the end of each decade: Oh My Jesus, Forgive us our sins and save us from the fires of hell, and lead all souls to heaven, especially those in most need of thy mercy. She adds some people from the "dire straits" prayer list.
After the rosary, she listens to her IPod and cranks up her average mile to the tune of Tom Petty's, Chasing Down A Dream. The drums are like her feet, pounding the pavement. She swings her ponytail to the beat, when no one is looking. The lyrics are so apprapo for running and writing.
Oh running down a dream, that never would come to me,
Workin' on a mystery,
Goin' wherever it leads...woo hoo, woo hoo, woo hoo...
The water aligning the dam, down the mountain at Lake Chatuge is a bluish-green, like her youngest daughter's eyes. She imagines what it would feel like to jump in. It is 90 degrees and climbing higher tomorrow.
Sometimes she feels defeated. She wants to quit, but really that is immature. Instead, she knows that it is God who gives her breath in her lungs and spring in her step. She reckons with the detail that since she's committed her life to Christ and He lights her path, there is no reason to give up. It's all his work anyway. He's responsible for the outcome.
All she has to do is "RUN HER FEELINGS."