Caught in the Crosswalk not the Crossfire

This morning, I went for my usual Sunday 6 mile run. Sunday runs are quiet, slow, and usually a time for reflection about whatever is on my mind. It was a little bit slippery but the blue sky and the shining sun made up for any initial shivers.



Something has been on my mind. With

United Nations Disarmament Statue. UN Headquarters, NYC.

the shootings in Connecticut and being a mother of children who are in the age-range of the children who were brutally and senselessly murdered, thoughts about guns and schools have been weighing heavily on me. Those little faces have been on my mind. I don't want to get into too much talk about gun control---really, own one if you want. This I know, I ABSOLUTELY do not want armed guards at my children's school. I don't want to teach my kids that they need to live in fear and that they need to be protected by firearms against the terrible people of the world. I don't want to live in a police-state where every place we go there is someone standing ready to shoot someone else. Ugh, it's like a bad action movie. I've told my children that we don't own a gun because we don't want to shoot anyone. I'd rather think that I don't wish ill will toward anyone.


In fact just the other day, a friend of mine pointed out, "I thought you were 'Life is awesome Melissa?"' Yes, well, I try to be positive, but it wasn't always this way. Maybe it was working in the service industry in my early years (Taco Bell Cashier, Hostess at a Restaurant in the Airport!) that made me think that people were selfish, cheap, dirty, jerk-faces lacking any sense of manners or ability to treat the people serving them with human dignity. My dad used to say, "maybe working with 'the public' isn't for you??" Indeed, a nice job in the college library was more up my alley.


Nowadays, usually I find it pointless to dwell on the negative. Usually, I think that you have to look for the silver lining when you can because otherwise you can drown so easily in the bad things around you. But, that doesn't necessarily come naturally to me. Those jerks in the world can suck you in, and it's hard not to fall into the "hate-them-back" trap. My feelings about the lowness of humanity can come back even when I least expect it.

Like today.

I was waiting for the "WALK" signal at an intersection. After a few close calls with drivers, I am pretty cautious. So, today, I was on the right side of the road, and noted that there was a car waiting to turn LEFT (which would cross over the crosswalk I would soon be entering). His signal was a YIELD to oncoming traffic. I was oncoming "traffic." The light changed and I waited a moment to make sure this gent was going to YIELD to me. He didn't make a move, so I jumped off the curb and set off running in the crosswalk. I was about 1/3 of the way across AND, then, I saw him headed straight for me. I screamed, "Oh, shit!" put up my hands, and turned quickly to run back to the side where I was. He slowed down, BUT instead of letting me go, he drove right on through. It was my right-of-way. MINE! Adrenaline took over and I yelled a litany of profanities that would make a sailor blush. I was jumping up and down, flipping the bird. Beyond pissed.

My heart is racing just typing this story. Bastard. Mother-F*%ker!! What did he think he was doing? What a huge jerk!

And, it took me about a mile to think about what my friend had said to me. I'm the "silver-lining" person, right? What could I pull from this experience?  I really, really, wanted to think that guy was an asshole who didn't deserve to be driving. He should have his driver's licence revoked. Too bad, I was too busy yelling to notice his licence plate number. I am glad that I was paying attention and not blindly just running through since most of the time, I don't trust drivers to notice me. I didn't really trust this guy either, and that's probably why things worked out ok. I am not going to make excuses for this guy. HE WAS WRONG. But, I thought maybe his mind was elsewhere while he was driving and he didn't see me (obviously). Shoot, maybe his wife left him, or he was late for work, or his dog died?? Dang, sounds like a country song, but really, I am glad that one of us was paying attention. Me hating this guy probably won't make me feel any better.

Deep breaths. It's ok.

Even at the height of my emotional response to potentially getting run over, I didn't want to shoot that guy. Well, I kind of wanted to punch him for just a second. Does that make me a bad person?? Maybe. Thoughts aren't actions. I'd love to be one of those awesome Buddhist types who doesn't even consider retaliation and only looks to love that person who has done them wrong.  <HUGS>. Um, no, if threatened directly without any true means of peaceful escape, I would most certainly try to fight back. However, I'm pretty unlikely to throw the "first punch." Yes, I got mad at that guy today, but I'm not going to keep on getting mad at him. I'm not going to be afraid to run through crosswalks just because there are people out driving like this guy. We can only control our own actions and reactions to a situation.

That's the message I want to teach my children. I feel like I would do more damage teaching them to be afraid. I don't want my kids to feel like someone is going to come into their school to shoot them. That's the only reason why there would be an armed guard outside their classrooms to protect them. So, let's not make children more laden with anxiety and tension. I'd rather teach them an awareness about people who should be avoided, and how to show acceptance whenever possible to others--even those mean peers. Kill them with kindness? Yes, I think so.

Not Sweating the Small (or Big) Stuff

At the beginning of the year I set some, what I thought were, fairly lofty running related goals for the race distances that I generally run. At that time, I hadn't even considered running a marathon. That idea didn't hatch until March. In truth, the marathon training probably was a huge asset to me recently reaching some of my targets.

I wouldn't even call them "goals" as such. It was more of questioning what I was capable of doing racing-wise in 2012.

In January I wrote: "Can I run under 21 in the 5K, under 43 in the 10K, under 1:35 in the Half-Marathon??"

It took almost to the end of this year to reach 2/3 of those time related goals. 5K PR on 11/22 of 20:41; 10K PR on 9/23 of 42:24. I haven't run under 1:35 in the half-marathon distance yet. Heck, I haven't run under 1:37. But with the Holiday Half coming up next week I will have my last chance to see what this body is capable of.

And, speaking of bodies. Mine has been a little different.

I was out running today before lunch. It was so nice out. Perfect temperature, slight breeze, the sun peeking out behind a handful of big billowy clouds.

I run with my iPod clipped to the strap of my sport's bra. It's been a great place for it until today. My iPod would not stay clipped to the bra. It just kept falling off. I tried to figure what the problem was and well, it became obvious to me pretty quickly. My "girls" were bouncing so much that the iPod was knocked off of the strap. Why? Well, I think my boobs are bigger than they've been. I know, I know TMI, Melissa, but really. Just gaining a little extra weight since the marathon has made me bigger...umm, everywhere, but most noticeably today, it was this area.

I don't really care too much, but the extra bounciness making my iPod fall off and down my shirt three times had me ready to chuck the fricken thing into the bushes. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em! My iPod became friends with my rack. I shoved that little thing in the bra and kept going. Worked fine. I'm not sure if it would work for a longer run. Today was an easy 5 miles, but I can imagine  that a 2 hour run would leave that little metal object impaled in my skin.

So, I guess I should...work off the post-marathon weight gain. Let's face it, I'm not running 50 or 60 miles a week, now. The little handful of Peanut M&M's or more drizzles of bleu cheese dressing on my salad adds up, now. I don't want to be obsessive. There's no way I'm going to weigh and measure my food. Nope. Just eat less. Lift weights more. Drink a little less wine. No problem.

So...what is the post about?? Well, it's just been more of mind dump today, but really I think it's about NOT obsessing. I am not obsessing about the race next week. AND, I'm not obsessing about my body. Whenever I put pressure on myself to run a certain time at a race, I don't do as well. Instead, I am not worrying about it, and I'm singing "Que Sera, Sera. What ever will be, will be..." La, la, la.