Safe as Houses

Feels good.

Sorry for the long hiatus. Here’s something new:

It’s 9:00 pm. And we’re ready for a run. As I take my first step onto the pavement in front of our house, I breathe a sigh of contentment, or maybe relief. I start to jog while Kent starts to pull, because heaven forbid the imaginary threats in our neighborhood catch his tail. Or are they my demons? I breathe comfortably from my nose and stare at the pavement in front of me. Not another twisted ankle this year. Uh-uh! We run pass families “safe as houses” behind white-washed doors and brick.

It’s time to pick up the pace. I open my mouth to take in more air left baked from the heat of the day. Dry as a bone. Kent leans his powerhouse shoulders right at the end of our street. He knows the way and goes with gusto. He’s also the most trusting and most fearful dog I’ve ever known, rarely both at the same time.

While his anxiety’s high, I’ve let go for the moment. Let go of high pitched ringing that’s returning to my right ear. Let go of the week-long daily headaches that have attacked me since I’ve stopped the steroid and the muscle cramps that return with the diuretic. Let go of the Meniere’s disease and food intolerance. 

I let go of the inconclusive test results and the four pieces of paper that say I have no allergies. Let go of the doctors who prescribe me unrelated medication to take care of sniffles and inflamed sinuses that I’ve lived with for, well, forever. Let go of Google searches for side effects and recommendations that a so called “doctor” conducts in front of my eyes. Will the medicine hurt our future baby?

I let go of the dental pains, the migraines, the thyroid problems, the digestive issues, the rashes, the shingles, the depression, and the cancer in family and friends. I don’t think about these things. Well, maybe a for a little bit.

Instead, I think mostly about rosemary and how extraordinarily it lives in our front flower bed. It just sits there, day after day, soaking up 104 degrees and full sun. Although I can’t run in those temperatures in full sun, I can watch TV at home in 90 degrees. Gives my little mitochondria a workout. But mainly it’s to save up for those crazy/wonderful/harebrained-idea type purchases that Kevin convinces me to make. You know, the ones that at the moment seem like a waste of money, but later become our next hobby that we can’t put down.

I think about how the moon tonight looks like the one in the old DreamWorks promos. You know the one with the boy who’s sitting on the edge of a waxing crescent, dangling his fishing rod into a pool of water below. That could be our kid, in the mountains, in cooler weather, in a few years.

I think about marathons. I know my neighbors see me run. But for those few seconds of consideration as they drive past me or I run past them, do they feel compelled to exercise just like me? Are they as obsessed with staying healthy as I am? Could we do a “couch to 5K” right here in our neighborhood where people show up? Or am I pushing fitness and wellness too much. My bad. It’s my job.

I think about the sprinklers where Kent is getting a drink (and his sticker-riddled coat soaked). Our water is slowly drying up out here in west Texas. What a luxury this little oasis is! I soak my legs it the water and pat me down before carrying on. Can you believe two blocks away and most of its already evaporated?

I think about fame. I wonder if it’s just a job for the people on American Idol, the Big Bang Theory, and 24, or do they get caught up in the superficial whirlwind of it all. It took me forever to find an interest and even mild talent for clothes and appearance, and I have problems with wanting to buy shoes and clothes I don’t need. They’re so shiny! I can’t imagine what a focus on image would do to a person if thought about 24/7.

I think about Lindsey and our first “true” run together on this very street. Gosh she was fast for no training at all! I wish I had a better mind for numbers, distances, and time. I had to ask Kevin the best route to run a mile with her. Good thing I married the man. :)

And I think about God.

How “fearfully and wonderfully made” we all are! Truly, “Your works are wonderful.” And I pray for the strength to focus on the wonderful more often and respect the fearful.

So, pretty productive run.

Thanks for watching out for me little Kent. You got me home safe as houses.