Sunday, January 29, 2012

Muddle through

After not running for two days and overall inconsistent runs for several months, I had to escape my house today. Normally I use runs to "work things through" and that is certainly what the plan was today. I intended to simply Zen out, muddle through all of the crazy, and return feeling physically, mentally, and emotionally lighter. Nothing went as planned of course. Lunch from hours before refused to settle, resulting in the closest thing to labor pains I've experienced since, well, labor.

I also planned on 5-7 miles depending on how I felt, which very quickly went to the 5 mile end of the spectrum. However, a bridge that was necessary to complete either run is out. As in literally not there. So I re-routed to a very busy and dangerous road with a very steep no-shoulder curve. Very un-Zen.

Despite this I tried to muddle through. There are a lot of things right now that need figuring out, such as:

How am I going to finish grades before they need submitting? Why am I teaching a dumb elective class for which I have no plans or materials past the first day? How am I going to create this class and stay on top of the AP class at the same time? Why are teachers continually treated unprofessionally? What kind of asshole kids will I have this semester? Are we really going to get our raise next year? When are we going to get our taxes done? What if we owe money AGAIN this year? If we do get some back, what should we do with it? Save it? Pay off cards? Pay down mortgage? Refinish basement? New floors? I would really like a decent workout space in the basement. Or make it an office. Where would we put the dogs' crates? Why is the tax code so f-ed up? Why do we end up owing money? If Mitt Romney is half Mexican, where is the GOP outrage? Why don't people consider him Latino?

And so on...

As I made my way up the final hill towards home, they sun came out from behind a huge wall of low-hanging stratus clouds as the front slowly eclipsed the sky. The contrast between the dark blue-grey of the front and the bright yellow sun was unexpected. I took it as God's way of saying "Not in your time, but in mine".

 I wished I had my phone on me to take a picture, but I had to wait to get the view from my porch: