3.31.2010
3.30.2010
3.29.2010
levity
a while back, a teller at my credit union told me, "i love your earrings. are they foreign?"
me: "yeah, texas."
teller: blank stare.
me: trying VERY HARD not to laugh at my joke. the level of hilarity increases directly with the lack of response from the other person.
i can't help it. i'm a dork like that.
me: "yeah, texas."
teller: blank stare.
me: trying VERY HARD not to laugh at my joke. the level of hilarity increases directly with the lack of response from the other person.
i can't help it. i'm a dork like that.
Update
One of my two readers told me that although she likes the photos I've been posting, I need to write. Ask, and you shall receive, no?
Here's my monthly report in six words: I ran, I coughed, I read.
The El Paso marathon was at the beginning of the month. After being around people the week before with varying levels of illness, I started to not feel well the Friday before the race. I managed to sleep pretty well that evening and made the drive down to ELP. The day of the race, I didn't feel great, but I didn't feel unwell, either. Since the race was paid for, I decided to do it.
I thankfully had my mile nine even before I hit mile two. Nearly the first four miles is straight uphill. There are a few ups and downs but for the most part you're climbing. I noticed that my heart rate started to skyrocket, so I walked about a mile. A slow mile. Aside from being told multiple times before a hill, "It's all downhill from here," the race was fun.
El Paso holds a special place in my heart, the place where all the toxins have congregated. Seriously, the soil under the Asarco plant was black. Black. Look at the mountain off in the distance to see the color in the rest of ELP. The plant's smokestacks are visible.
Okay, this is not the greatest picture, but you get the idea. Nevertheless, I got sick after the race. (I do like El Paso, considering... See the line of cars? Those were people going to the race. We stayed two blocks from the start line. 9 flights of stairs was my warm-up.)
Yes, folks, the never-ending battle with the microbes that won't leave me alone. It was worse than a marathon. My endurance for this crap is wearing thin and my inner adolescent has been unleashed. I'm tired of it disrupting my life and having to forgo things because I don't feel well. I'm finally getting my energy back, though.
I've had more time on my hands to read. Part of the month I didn't have much energy to do much else but read. When I went to Las Vegas last month, I came upon a book entitled The Solace of Fierce Landscapes: Exploring Desert and Mountain Spirituality by Belden C. Lane. It mixes death, life, and stark landscapes. I've had a hard time getting into certain parts, but there was a quote Flannery O'Connor that he referenced: "...sickness is more instructive than a long trip to Europe." There may be some truth to that.
Lane also discussed books by Kathleen Norris. I had heard of her when I read Anne Lamott, who quoted Norris in one of her short stories. Last week I read Acedia and Me and Dakota. Both were good reads, but Dakota really hit home. Although the land that I'm from is not as stark as the western plains, many aspects of the culture she described hit the mark. Right now I'm reading The Cloister Walk. Maybe I'll write a post about all the things that are coming up reading her works.
Next month I'm headed to Colorado for another training for the leadership program. My sister will be joining me for part of the time, and we'll likely be able to catch up with other family members. I have a long weekend starting Friday. My plans for the weekend didn't pan out, but I feel like I need the time to emotionally get over the malaise. Retreat and renewal.
Welcome, Spring.
Here's my monthly report in six words: I ran, I coughed, I read.
The El Paso marathon was at the beginning of the month. After being around people the week before with varying levels of illness, I started to not feel well the Friday before the race. I managed to sleep pretty well that evening and made the drive down to ELP. The day of the race, I didn't feel great, but I didn't feel unwell, either. Since the race was paid for, I decided to do it.
I thankfully had my mile nine even before I hit mile two. Nearly the first four miles is straight uphill. There are a few ups and downs but for the most part you're climbing. I noticed that my heart rate started to skyrocket, so I walked about a mile. A slow mile. Aside from being told multiple times before a hill, "It's all downhill from here," the race was fun.
El Paso holds a special place in my heart, the place where all the toxins have congregated. Seriously, the soil under the Asarco plant was black. Black. Look at the mountain off in the distance to see the color in the rest of ELP. The plant's smokestacks are visible.
Yes, folks, the never-ending battle with the microbes that won't leave me alone. It was worse than a marathon. My endurance for this crap is wearing thin and my inner adolescent has been unleashed. I'm tired of it disrupting my life and having to forgo things because I don't feel well. I'm finally getting my energy back, though.
Lane also discussed books by Kathleen Norris. I had heard of her when I read Anne Lamott, who quoted Norris in one of her short stories. Last week I read Acedia and Me and Dakota. Both were good reads, but Dakota really hit home. Although the land that I'm from is not as stark as the western plains, many aspects of the culture she described hit the mark. Right now I'm reading The Cloister Walk. Maybe I'll write a post about all the things that are coming up reading her works.
Next month I'm headed to Colorado for another training for the leadership program. My sister will be joining me for part of the time, and we'll likely be able to catch up with other family members. I have a long weekend starting Friday. My plans for the weekend didn't pan out, but I feel like I need the time to emotionally get over the malaise. Retreat and renewal.
Welcome, Spring.
3.28.2010
3.27.2010
3.26.2010
3.25.2010
3.24.2010
3.22.2010
3.21.2010
3.20.2010
3.19.2010
3.18.2010
3.17.2010
3.16.2010
3.15.2010
Reprive
(i'm not sure why the photos lose resolution when posted. that's the moon near the branches at the top.)
3.14.2010
3.13.2010
3.12.2010
3.11.2010
3.10.2010
3.09.2010
Recovery
I ran a half marathon this weekend. Since then, what were just hints of getting sick have turned into a full-blown cold. Yuck. At least I have a cool medal to show for all this.
3.08.2010
The speed of my life
This picture reveals more about my life than I want to admit. Frenetic pace, at times. Blurry. Too much of it spent in a polluting machine.
3.05.2010
Caminos
The past two days I've been reviewing photos I've taken over the years. I've decided to post some of them here on my blog as a way to help them to come to life. I don't know much about photography; it's all intution. Something propels me to capture a moment, to bear witness. I'm drawn in when a picture reveals a dimension forgotten or missed entirely.
This photo got me thinking. There are strong beliefs in this culture about forging your own path, but this one is hundreds of years old and worn smooth by countless feet. Perhaps it might be wise to know when to take a well-worn trail or when to go out on your own. I think one can even forge his or her own path following the steps of others. You just have to make it your own, whatever it may be.
This photo got me thinking. There are strong beliefs in this culture about forging your own path, but this one is hundreds of years old and worn smooth by countless feet. Perhaps it might be wise to know when to take a well-worn trail or when to go out on your own. I think one can even forge his or her own path following the steps of others. You just have to make it your own, whatever it may be.
3.04.2010
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