Run

I am not a runner. I hate running, actually. It's punishment, gym class, asthma attacks....

Even so, back in October or November, I just up and started running. I did it to get away from my own thoughts. There's something about that punishment of you and the road and an i-pod playing songs that sting your eyes to clear your head of everything but the breath in your lungs. Running is for high stress. I've been doing it lately with E. I don't think he knows why I'm running and not at home kick boxing - imagining myself landing perfect jabs and crosses on whomever. I don't think he knows how good the distraction is for me.
When we run there's only this:
Feet on the track in steady rhythm
Sweat
Music in one ear
Conversation in snippets of gasped air
Sun
Air in my lungs
Clarity.

In other news, we had S.'s retirement party today. We just had some cake and punch in the library - low key - though there were plenty in attendance. She'll be missed. I can't believe how quickly this year is coming to an end, and while I'm ready, it hasn't quite hit me that I won't be back....

There will be a flood of bittersweet emotion on the 6th for graduation.... I watched a lot of those kids grow up - 15 to 18 - and love them, honestly do. It's the end of this stage for all of us.

Trying to convince BK she REALLY wants to come here for my birthday, we'll see how it goes.

Off to the track.

PS This is hilarious.