Holi-Blog: Blue and Green

I'm sorry this blog is so confusing. I'm kind of in a rush, holiday style.
I've always been real nostalgic during the holidays. Christmas, in particular, makes me feel warm and makes me bake (more than the usual) cookies and makes me love loving. I love the tiny glow of tiny lights and the fresh smell of artificial balsam and even the uneven cuts of wrap.
I especially love the color blue at Christmas. Partly because blue is really unexpected during the holiday season. Whether there are sparkles in the Christmas blue or not, it certainly does shine differently than during the rest of the year. Especially when that blue is smartly interrupted by cartooned Santa's and Frosty's or, dressed handsomely with the classic wreath, soft red velvet bows, and vintage-y, cheesy, Kinkade-y scenes with horses, cabins, perennially fresh trees, carols, soft glows and, ghosts. I love all that nonsense.

I also totally love my version of mediocrity, especially at Christmastime (okay, I'm of nihilist persuasion). I love the blue, especially because it secularizes everything in one fell swoop. Now that I'm thinking of it, I haven't time for exaggerated emotions or schmaltzy overtures and epilogues to my everyday. It's okay to be mediocre. So what if Christmas for me is all about the presents? Christmas cards? And, divvying up evenly on behalf of Santa? Then kicking back with some egg nog and roasting chestnuts?
Unexpected segue:
Having opportunities to know you (the many you(s) is really the important measurable gift I find under the all-year-round-tree
Did you know I have a pear tree in my yard? It's green and, I bought it, while green on Earth Day just two years ago. Green things [that grow, or so they claim], requiring watering regularly and the occasional fertilizer stake, are rarely successful for me!
But, there is satisfaction found in stuff that grows. There is a finesse, too, a know-how, a delicacy needed to observe the difference between that thing which grows because it can and the one that grows because it wants--green and otherwise.
Oh crap... now I've done it:
Here's the thing, the more blue you have around at Christmas, the better, and, I don't mean the little pink trees (though, they are fabulous!).
We all know Christmas is in an open relationship with the mediocre, and, this is good news for some of us.

So, remember to cruise through Christmas, right into New Year's where some important stuff can happen if you want it to. Deciding not to be mediocre (or, how we display our varying levels of mediocrity) has nothing to do how we deck the halls; it's really about who and how we are each and everyday. Being brave and looking forward to New Year's with an awakened commitment to self and loved ones, reinventing, rediscovery and reworking, moving to the core of a new sense of humanness, and, loving/being in a better, more effective way, is the right answer for the mediocre.

Happy New Year to you!
Love,
Sarah

The Night I Ran Wicked Fast

This post is welling up inside me. I've been waiting patiently for a subject to hit me just right. THE boots, I thought, had it all. I should probably wear THE boots while throwing down the lines in this post, but I'm too tired to get up.
It took all day to run on December 8. A quick and casual change in the schedule had me pacing the floors for hours and, ahem, scrubbing the baseboards? This is a job that is not sexy. Imagine choosing to clean something that no one will ever know got cleaned? What is the reward in that? Well, for starters, I knew I cleaned it and I felt good about it; the nice thing about a blog is having a format where I can mention the things I've cleaned and get a little recognition. So there you go, I cleaned the baseboards in my kitchen.
That day I got a lot of baking done and was readying the house for company. I played with legos in a way that I like to occasionally. I prefer my brother's legos from the 80's. The pieces are mostly gray and spacey-with that intergalactic ring and speed of light and shit. I'm also partial to wheels. I have constructed some of the most intense lunar rovers complete with key boards, missile launchers (although, at once, we come in peace), steering wheels, windows, stealth windshields and roof shingles that came from the farm set.
I knew I could head out on my run at 4:30. Around 3 pm, I started getting ready. This is not typical to have this much time. I was not rushed but I thought about running the run....and didn't think about route or distance--no specifics. I was actually distracted by the fact that it was going to be dark and I needed to be prepared in two ways: 1, dressed for chillier temps and 2, lit up, easily detected, reflecting, etc.
The light I chose, I bought at a Dollar Tree on Hawthorne Blvd. Back in August while in Oregon for the Hood To Coast Relay. This was actually the last time I used it for the purpose of running. Levi likes to take it and shine it at Elijah and say, "I'm gonna punch you in your ffface". He's just trying to survive.
And I wear my compression socks on my arms. This is excellent!
I like the fact that my arms can be warm without stacking another layer on my core.
On goes the arm band and i pod. In goes the braid, uniform and snug. And I exit an excited, loud and noisy household ready for the reprieve. I head out left at the end of my dirt road and see that traffic is backed up to the traffic circle. Bonus!
I get to chase cars/race cars!
When I'm hauling close to them, the cars will purposefully drive along side to clock, it's kind of fun for me so I gave them something to shoot for...this was when my fastest mile was achieved.
I love approaching the outside turn of the traffic circle. I stay close to the line and it's raked slightly downward so I can accelerate and move quickly through. It's almost like going through a check point or running a track...I need to get through it quickly so I don't cause any problems for motorists. I know running into the circle is not ideal, but it's part of a killer loop and I'm only in it for an 1/8 of it.
But I was off to a great start. Sometimes, on certain days, running is for me, then, there are other days when running is not for me. I wonder if that half marathon was not the right day for me to run. That almost every other day could've been better for some reason.
Once I was told that racing ruins everything about running...this is probably likely. But I love running too much not to try racing occasionally.
I waited ALL day to run. When I got into traffic and moved fast through the circle, I started a climb that goes on for about 3 tenths of a mile. I climbed and climbed without dropping pace or breathing quickly. At the top of the hill I turned right onto a dirt road...quiet. And I kept the pace steadily. Sometimes I'm just so happy to be out of the house, away from all the chaos of raising 2 boys, who are hardcore boys (will the fighting ever end?).
Someone once told me if you raise 3 boys, you can do anything. I'm hoping some of that can be reserved me as I am raising 2 boys. Oh, and I'm not going to have a third boy just so I can qualify for the 'anything'. I'll gladly do 33.333% less of 'anything', because I don't think I could handle 1/3 more noise, dirt and gas in the house.
Anyway, the run that night was speedy overall, most likely because I was itchy from being cooped up all day and because I thought about it all day, and because I am so grateful for my time alone and because I love my athletic self that I'm amazed daily and, finally, I wanted to get home and out of the dark as fast as possible.

Sarah Eaton ran 6.5 mi PACE 7:20 SOTD Ramble On - Led Zeppelin gotta find the queen of all my dreams
New PR for the mile: 6:45

The Importance of Fantastic Boots

Today, while shopping, I found THE boots.
Brown? yes. Wooden heel? yes. Slouch? yes! Not too ornamental? yes. Good price? yes! Smart looking? Yes! Yes! Yes!
Want to know how I knew they were THE boots? First, my heart rate went up a bit when I saw them.
Easily this can be measured. It's not something I'm making up about our physical response to something that strikes us just that right way.
Second, as I scanned the boxes for the right size, I felt a really warm surge come over me, like that moment just before you sip the second cocktail and everything in your body just smooths over.
Yeah, so those boots were in my size.
I was psyched when I opened the box and discovered that the insides of the box remained undisturbed since leaving the manufacturer. Even more awesome!
I lifted the paper and saw the left boot and knew right away the task that awaited me. I needed to extract the cardboard stabilizers from inside.
Being versed in the process of readying a new boot, I reached deep inside and drew out the tissue used to stabilize the toe, as well. All systems go!
Grasping the boot by the top of the shaft, I slid my foot in. At any moment this attempt can be sabotaged by an ill cut waist of the boot that prevents the glide of my foot. BUT it went easily, unlike the first pair. Whew!
The first pair was an ankle boot with a two inch heel. That boot really lacked at the waist and so while trying to get my foot in there, because what was intended to be one fluid motion was sadly brought to an abrupt halt, I lost my balance, hobbled, bounced, jumped a bit, kickin' up dust and causing a silly scene (and causing my toddler to laugh at me, which is hardly ever a good thing).
BUT something should be said about the ease of putting on a boot...this could be hot or not hot. The better fitting boot can be determined as to how good you look getting it on. I need practice. I will work on this over the next couple of weeks. This is not unlike perfecting any craft like folding fancy napkins for the 5 star restaurant (the candle roll or the fan fold) or painting using stencils or making a jig saw an extension of your hands, or perhaps it is more similar to tying a necktie for your lover.
I couldn't get out of the store fast enough. I wanted to go home and wear them while I baked a batch of cookies or watched my bread dough rise. See? Sometimes the right boots can make even your cookies taste better!

To wrap this nonsense up here is a fun little quote by a woman whose book I think I should read titled The Female Eunuch:

“Yet if a woman never lets herself go,
how will she ever know how far she might have got?
If she never takes off her high-heeled shoes,
how will she ever know how far she could walk or how fast she could run?”
Germaine Greer