April is a good time to start over. So I’m abandoning this blog and starting over, over here.
But I sent my intentions for February:
I had set intentions for other months, and my biggest accomplishment is… NO LAPTOP IN THE BEDROOM! I had to give up Netflix, because, OMG: 3 degrees below zero + hard day at work + dangerous (icy, snowy, poor visibility) driving conditions coming home from work + lack of sunlight = jammies, dinner, bed with a laptop binge watching episodes of My Name Is Earl. But not no more! My name is Patti and it’s been 18 days since my last Netflix binge.
I am determined, with the help of regular therapy, clean eating, strenuous exercise, and various mood elevating supplements, to enjoy the rest of winter.
I will read more library books, make more stuff, play more, give gifts, and be kind. (I’d like to work on my Facebook addiction, but I rely on it for connection with a couple of important social circles. And I have started 2 art projects there, Mudge Says and James A. Garfield Friday.)
One of my intentions for February is to blog 2 times a week, at least. Lucky for me my week starts on Monday and ends on Sunday. As long as I post tomorrow, I will not have disappointed myself.
I woke up at 5 am, which is not notable. You know that special kind of insomnia that won’t let you sleep past a certain very unreasonable early morning hour? I suffer from that. But I am aware that not everybody does, including my roommate for the conference. So I carefully and quietly put on my running gear and snuck out of the room.
I love old hotels. I love staying in the middle of the city. The buildings are all marble and granite – substantial and beautiful. There is movement and energy and purpose outside, all the time. Even in the pre-dawn hours.
I had uncomfortable feelings about going for a run this early, I’m sure it would have been safe, but I thought I should hold off going outside until more commuters filled the streets. So I asked the desk clerk, “where can I find the gym?” 3rd floor, end of the hall. I smiled when I saw the fitness room; a converted hotel room with a rubbery floor and a couple of treadmills. I had planned on playing with weights and using the elliptical for 10 minutes or so.
Instead, I ran for 15 minutes inside before venturing out to State Street smack in the middle of the capitol district. I felt wind from the mountains on my face while streetlights competed with the dark. Diesel bus fumes, deliveries, people walking with satchels and lunch bags. The steady beat of one foot in front of the other. Breathing hard. Sweating. Feeling amazing.
Time to turn around, return to the hotel, and get ready for another day of learning how to teach math.
Running up capitol hill to Empire Plaza past the capitol building. Learning more and more about teaching math.
Other than moving around the building today at work (the hallways are long and our classrooms are far apart), I did not exercise. We left right after work for Albany. NTI Institute, common core math, math modules. We drove and saw a fantastic moon-low, big, and red. It lit up the way, all the way to Albany.
Our hotel is fancy and old. It started in 1819.
In the car, it was fun talking about math with someone who understands how I feel about it. We solved multiplication problems of decimals and whole numbers out loud with area models. Our solutions dissipated into the air, with our heads nodding in agreement.
I will get up early and go for a run around this old city. Unless it rains. Then I will visit the fitness center on the 3rd floor before showering and walking to the conference center.
To dance class.
And the moon followed me all the way home.
Light of The Moon
I run. Sort of.
No, I run really.
It started with my New Year’s list in 2013, I decided to participate in A Run for Their Life. I had my surgeries (except for the plastic surgery) and treatments here in my home town, but most of the doctors commuted from Upstate. I wanted to run a 5k and raise money for breast cancer research at this hospital. I am very grateful for the care I received, and I am very grateful to still be here. My plan was to train for this event, raise money, run it, then never run again.
I bought an app, some-wrap-around-your-ears ear buds, and a new pair of shoes. I followed the directions of the voice on the app. I ran through town, I ran by the river, I ran along the lake shore, I ran on the railroad tracks, I ran in the woods. I ran and ran and ran.
I became addicted. To the wind in my face. To the steady rhythm of putting one foot in front of the other. To noticing my surroundings. To the endorphins. To the improvement of my appearance. To new strength.
I’m still running.