Good morning! I am having to come into work early to post because our computer is still broken. If I haven’t commented lately at your place it’s because of this inconvenience, not because I’m not reading you here and there.
Were you surprised last night? I was surprised that Phil went, although I agree with Karen Leigh who said, “Why did we like Sanjaya? Because we could watch him on TV in our cold apartments and feel some sort of connection. I never got that feeling with Phil, nor did I ever feel he was one of this season's strongest singers.”
Although Chris seems like a genuinely nice young man, I never cared for his singing. But the tears get me every time. Even his grandma was crying! When you have kids not too far from some of these contestants’ ages, it makes you a little softer. **Footnote: This further proves that I am not mean and that I even cross over to the sappy side sometimes! [see post below].
I also figured out why I didn’t like Blake’s beat box thing. It seemed to be contrived, trying too hard to be clever or unique, and it zapped a rock song into a softer version, sort of like a smooth jazz rendition. Remember when Mandisa sang “Shackles,” a gospel song, and Simon smacked that down with a vengeance, saying that she was being manipulative and contriving? I don’t know how he didn’t feel that way about Blake’s stuff. Anyway, I know I’m in the minority who didn’t care for this performance.
This afternoon I will ride with Husband to Indy to pick up packets for everyone on my Discipleship “Team” doing the Indy Mini Marathon, which is Saturday. There will be 30,000 people there, some running a 5k, some walking the 13 mi, some running the 13. Some will be riding the pick-up shuttle that comes along to scrape you off the road when you are dragging butt and headed toward an unintentional marathon by completing a mini in marathon time. Hmmm. Which group will I fall into?
I am not where I wanted to be training–wise. What can I say? Life got in the way. Sanjaya got in the way. Your entertaining posts got in the way! Plus laundry, the ever-present domestic behemoth, got in the way. Bad weather, sickness, allergies, track meets, holidays, church obligations … you get the picture: basically everyone and everything else in the world but me is to blame for my lack of readiness. Yep, that's the picture. About now you should also be getting the picture of the great scoop-up of ’07, where I am stretchered onto a bus labeled, “Loser Express. Get Out of the Way, but No Need to Hurry.” I’m sure the horn would sound like a wounded manitee.
This week I have walked 1.5 hours on two nights. My legs are a bit shaky, but not as shaky as my belief that I can finish this “race.” I’m expecting it to take 3 or so hours to complete. For me, “complete” is the key word.
As we sat around our table at church planning for Saturday, I began to share some tips that have helped me in the past (when I ran a little), such as when your hands tingle and swell at your side, lift them to waist-height, clench and unclench your fists, rub your middle fingers and thumbs together to get circulation going, etc. This spurred on a bunch of other tips about applying Vaseline to combat chaffing under the arms and at seams on shorts, about wearing sock liners, chapstick, sunscreen, sunglasses, discussion about whether to try to carry cell phones, cameras, extra socks, underwear (!), whether we should break down and wear—fanny packs--you can see that fear and loss of dignity was growing by the minute. I looked directly across the table at a young mom in her twenties whose face was turning pink and lips were pursed. I said, “Becky--are you LAUGHING at us?!” in disbelief. She lost it, and through her laughter said we sounded like we were planning a treacherous climb in Nepal. She was picturing us dragging rolling suitcases behind us. Easy for her to say—she is a is a tall, reed-thin runner who has no “junk” to flap in the breeze on the backs of her arms! I promised her that she will someday have "mud flaps" on the backs of her arms, too! **Footnote: Wishing junk onto the back of a young girl’s arms may counter any claim I had to niceness. Clearly, I am a complex individual, with a dual nature of evil and tepid congeniality.
There is a point to us doing this together besides boosting Becky’s morale and confidence to unparalleled heights. We are raising money for two people in our church who have ALS, which brings a short life-expectancy, and both are failing fast. They need expensive machines and expensive help. We have done a benefit concert for one, and one mini-team member is a personal advocate for another. Not only do ALS patients have to face increasingly challenging days practically each day, but they have to struggle financially, too. This is not easy when you are the single mom of three kids, two with severe disabilities such as autism. How much can one family take? So that’s why we’re all in this together. And to provide comic relief for Becky, of course.
I have to say that in the small amount of training I have managed to work in, I have become very appreciative of the abilities to simply walk and breathe on my own.
So I should have a lot to blog about after Saturday, but you may not read it until the following Saturday, because I may take a week to recover!
And here's how I'll probably look at the end of the race because I've trained so hard.