Friday, September 4, 2009

Wheeeeee

Still I say, there's a way for us


I rode my bike to work today. It made me feel invincible. Darting between cars, passing other cyclists, avoiding train tracks - I am invincible. I can pedal faster than the other bike commuters, I can save gas and money and burn calories, I can survive the unpredictable traffic, day-dreaming pedestrians, and late summer heat...I can do anything! Until, of course, my tire does catch one of those pesky trolley tracks and I go down, hard, bruising my knee and my ego. When that happens, I hope to pick myself up, dust myself off, and plant myself firmly back on my extremely uncomfortable bicycle seat. Because it's fun.

Number twenty-five: Riding my bike. Because it makes me say, "wheeee" and feel like I'm twelve, but only the good parts of being twelve. Wheeee. Say it with me.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

I'm okay if you get me at a good angle

I'm okay if you get me at a good angle


Number twenty-four: Running. Moving. Being active.

I used to hate running. Hate. More, even, than I hate coffee. And I really hate coffee. The sweat; the unnecessarily short shorts; the heading toward an end point only to turn around and come right back, or, worse yet, circling and circling and circling - just, really, what's the point?

But as I've forced myself to do it more, and as I've done that forcing in the company of very, very good friends, I've started really appreciating the freedom I feel when my feet are pounding the pavement, probably taking years off my knees. A freedom to move. Forward. Even if I'm not going very fast.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

I do not wish to be pale pink

I do not wish to be pale pink



Number twenty-three: taking my mom kayaking for the first time when she turned 60.

It was awesome. More awesome still was my dad flipping his kayak within the first 15 minutes of the river trip. Into the rapids. And being carried downstream for 5 minutes before having the opportunity to get back in. I wouldn't laugh if he hadn't survived. But he did. Of course, I'm pretty sure that was the first and last kayaking trip of his life. Finally, my mom's end-of-trip tip in the muddiness of the river bank, rounded out the highlights of our fantastic family fun.