So, it's Valentine's Day. Men everywhere are racing to the greeting card section of every pharmacy, grocery store, big box discount store and yes, even that neighborhood car wash, where they have the spinning rack of cards to peruse as you eat the free popcorn and await an underbody wash and hand dry on your vehicle. Do you see them? They are desperate. Desperate not to blow it. Again. They already feel shame for the long list of holiday violations they have surely committed over the years. There are just so very many things to remember, after all....birthdays, special foods eaten during first dates, anniversaries of said dates, clothing worn on various occasions and charming stories of good times in the past that they can only smile and fake their way through for so long. Really, where does it end. These men are doomed to be disappointing, expectations will never be met, and yet off to the card section they go, trying to avoid shame and holding out hope for the possibility of getting laid later if they just get it right this one, damn time!
I love being surprised with flowers. And with unexpected notes. Not so much with chocolate (*see 'weight' blog). But, I don't at all enjoy these surprises on Valentine's Day. After all, they aren't surprises on Valentine's Day, are they? Oh sure, my feelings might have been just a little tainted by the fact that my ex-husband wrote me a gushing sentiment in a card one Valentine's Day, only to leave me for good less than 4 weeks later. But, marriage-ending Valentine's Days notwithstanding, I still think I'd rather have Gerd donate 75 meals to starving families in Africa than bring me flowers just because he "should".
But then.... there's the love. And no matter how contrived, no matter how scheduled, no matter what its Hallmark holiday motives may be, Valentine's Day provides us an opportunity to pause and think about love.
And love is really the thing, isn't it?
If you've lost love, you know. There isn't any other pain like the pain you felt on those nights you were alone, certain you would never again be loved. Or when you were forced to acknowledge that you'd never again hear the laughter of the person you love or touch their face or kiss their lips.
But, you will always find love again. It won't always be the same love, but it's there. It's everywhere, love. There will be the dog, bursting out of the garage toward the car as you drive up the driveway arriving home from work, happy beyond reason to see you and never crabby or holding a grudge about anything at all. There will be the friend that shows up at 2am to hug you and console you and stay with you all night, even though they have to get up for work early the next morning. There will be the child, that you somehow managed to raise to be this amazing person, despite your own shortcomings, who will make you proud over and over and over again and you will love with an intensity that can not really even be described and for whom you would throw yourself under a train in a heartbeat, if only to save their life. And, there will be the new lover, who reminds you that you don't just get the one chance and love can be found in places you might never have imagined and just might get stronger and better, every single day.
No matter how threatened conservative Christians may feel about the sanctity of marriage being destroyed by gay men and women having the right to marry, and no matter what types of laws they put in place to prevent public recognition of these relationships, they will NEVER be able to diminish or suppress the love that my gay friends feel for each other.
No matter how hungry, oppressed, persecuted or impoverished people are in places all over the globe, they will continue to love.
No matter how abused, neglected or mistreated; animals and humans everywhere continue to give and seek love.
No matter how under paid or under appreciated, I see loving workers in nursing homes, schools, social service agencies and hospitals, loving complete strangers every single day.
Love is the thing, folks.
I hope you find and give a little love this Valentine's Day and every other day, too.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Only in Minnesota
So, it's official. I'm a true Minnesotan. And if I wasn't before yesterday, I damn well am now.
Yesterday, I awoke to my alarm and spent a few minutes in bed listening to the wind howling outside my window. My phone told me that the temperature was 1 (yes, one degree) and the sound of that wind told me that there was going to be some suffering during the Valentine's Day 5k at Lake Harriet. I was tucked safely into my bed, warm and toasty under multiple layers of covers and Gerd was still sleeping next to me. What the hell was I thinking signing up for a 5k in the middle of winter?? Maybe I should skip it. I mean, I had already picked up the free t-shirt the day before. But then, I remembered that I had committed to doing this with my son (who as it turns out was doing his own over-sleeping in the bedroom downstairs). Plus, I could really never wear that t-shirt if I didn't show up... When someone sees me in it and says, oh, you ran the Valentine's Day 5k? Wasn't it cold this year?! What am I supposed to say.... uh, I wimped out and stayed in bed because of the wind chill? HELL NO!!! I can do this thing. So, I dragged my ass out of bed, put on multiple layers of clothing and woke up Jake.
The family came along to cheer for us. This is true love, folks. Long underwear were located, promises of going out to breakfast after the race were made, and though sidetracked by a brief snafu about Jake's sweatpants (or potential lack thereof), we were soon off! Jake and I listened to pump up songs. We felt camaraderie at our foolishness. What were we thinking, really?
I couldn't help but wonder if anybody would actually show up for the race. But, there they all were!! We stood huddled together, waiting for the race to start. We waited in line for lukewarm apple cider. The temp soared to 4 degrees just before the start of the race and I dashed into the port-a-potty for a quick pee. Have you ever dropped your pants in 4 degrees? Exactly.
They called us to the starting line, and our eyes were watering and our lashes were beginning to freeze together and our mouths weren't operating properly, as our soft tissues began to harden with cold. There were throngs of people and we moved like a giant amoeba, attempting to retain some semblance of body heat, while taking our appropriate places at the start line. Only, in all the frigid disorientation, I didn't take my appropriate place at the starting line. I took an inappropriate place FAR too close to the front of the pack. The Star Spangled Banner was sung (with a little more enthusiasm than I thought was necessary) and the lady next to me sang along (badly). The gun was fired and we're off. Of course, the amoeba all moved en mass for the first 100 feet or so. This is to be expected at any holiday 'fun' race, and quite frankly, who fucking cares if you get your big fast start out of the gate at a race where we aren't even chip-timed and a lot of the people are wearing pink tutus and shiny boxers shorts adorned with hearts over the top of their running pants.
But, there is always "that guy", isn't there? And there he was, coming from somewhere behind me, all serious about the day. He shoved me, yes SHOVED ME out of his way so he could scramble to the front of the pack. Dude, you just shoved a middle-aged woman out of your way, brushed past a guy wearing purple leg warmers and tripped over the cute 12-year-old wearing a stocking cap embroidered with the name of her elementary school to get to the front of the pack at the Valentine's Day 5k. Seriously? Because we are all out here just trying to survive, the windchill is minus ten and you are an asshole. Oh, and here's a newsflash: your finish at this race isn't going to qualify you for the Boston Marathon and the next race like this is the Get Lucky 7k with beer and Irish Dancers. Clearly you belong someplace else.
But, I wasn't able to dwell on rude guy, because first of all, what was I going to do, catch up to him? Ha! And soon enough, the amoeba broke up anyway, and there I was running along with my ipod music, trying not to be completely demoralized by the people who continuously passed me the entire rest of the race (note to self: next time start at the back of the pack, where you belong).
There were a few moments of glory. OK, glory is a bit strong. Maybe 'moments of moderately good feelings' is a more accurate term. One was at the south end of the lake, where it gets mildly hilly, and people started to struggle a bit. I run on ridiculous hills all the time out here in suburbia, so this didn't seem all that bad to me. I think I passed one, maybe two people (who later passed me) during this stretch. The second moment was just as I turned to the north and began the last half of the race. One of the traffic control guys said, 'keep running, because there is a whole sea of humanity behind you!'. A sea of humanity behind me? So, I'm not last, then?
These small victories were soon forgotten, however, as I turned north and the wind blew across Lake Harriet from the Northwest. For the love of God, why?? WHY?!??!?!?!? What little feeling I had in my thighs was soon gone and I began to wonder, has anyone ever died in the Valentine's Day 5k? During this stretch I was so grateful for the tags they had us wear on our backs, which read "Taken", "Single" or "It's Complicated". The idea of this was that people could meet and fall in love and not have to wonder if the person was actually "available", all during the race. Cute, huh? Well, when you can't even tell if someone is male or female because we are all wearing so much clothing, it might be difficult to zero in on your potential love interest. However, I was grateful for the distraction every time somebody with "It's Complicated" ran by. So, what's their story? Did they just break up last night because the other person in the relationship was tired of these endless 5k races? Are they married, but hoping to meet someone who doesn't care and wants to have an affair? The possibilities were endless and all of this thinking about it got me through most of the rest of the race.
Just as I began to wonder if my family has dashed to the nearest coffee shop, and would later claim that I just "didn't see them", there they were! Gerd was taking a video of me running by, Harm slapped me five, and Emily/Raena were screaming their lungs out that I was doing awesome. And then, the 7 other spectators who actually came to the race were cheering to us all as we ran in.
So, I made it. Jake finished five full minutes ahead of me even though I've been training all winter and he has run one time in the past three months. But, I made it!! And today, I have full feeling in all my extremities, and the front of my thighs as well.
And having run this race, on the very coldest day of the winter of 2011-2012, I think I now understand why Minnesotans cut giant holes in ice and jump into frigid water. Why we sign up for outdoor athletic events that originated in Mediterranean climates and have no business being held here, but are. Why we have a carnival during which we hunt for plastic medallions hidden in parks at a time of year that has the least amount of daylight, requiring floodlights and torches and vodka and who knows what else.
We do it because we can!! We are Minnesotans. We will endure merciless (albeit accurate) jokes about our clipped vowels. We will endure misrepresentations about our climate, and correct persons everywhere else in the country and most of the world about the fact that it is not actually below freezing here year round. We will tolerate the fact that our friends and family on either coast don't like to visit us. And we will continue to perform acts that defy all reason and explanation.
And now, would somebody please book me a ticket to anywhere else but here? I'm from California, you know.
Yesterday, I awoke to my alarm and spent a few minutes in bed listening to the wind howling outside my window. My phone told me that the temperature was 1 (yes, one degree) and the sound of that wind told me that there was going to be some suffering during the Valentine's Day 5k at Lake Harriet. I was tucked safely into my bed, warm and toasty under multiple layers of covers and Gerd was still sleeping next to me. What the hell was I thinking signing up for a 5k in the middle of winter?? Maybe I should skip it. I mean, I had already picked up the free t-shirt the day before. But then, I remembered that I had committed to doing this with my son (who as it turns out was doing his own over-sleeping in the bedroom downstairs). Plus, I could really never wear that t-shirt if I didn't show up... When someone sees me in it and says, oh, you ran the Valentine's Day 5k? Wasn't it cold this year?! What am I supposed to say.... uh, I wimped out and stayed in bed because of the wind chill? HELL NO!!! I can do this thing. So, I dragged my ass out of bed, put on multiple layers of clothing and woke up Jake.
The family came along to cheer for us. This is true love, folks. Long underwear were located, promises of going out to breakfast after the race were made, and though sidetracked by a brief snafu about Jake's sweatpants (or potential lack thereof), we were soon off! Jake and I listened to pump up songs. We felt camaraderie at our foolishness. What were we thinking, really?
I couldn't help but wonder if anybody would actually show up for the race. But, there they all were!! We stood huddled together, waiting for the race to start. We waited in line for lukewarm apple cider. The temp soared to 4 degrees just before the start of the race and I dashed into the port-a-potty for a quick pee. Have you ever dropped your pants in 4 degrees? Exactly.
They called us to the starting line, and our eyes were watering and our lashes were beginning to freeze together and our mouths weren't operating properly, as our soft tissues began to harden with cold. There were throngs of people and we moved like a giant amoeba, attempting to retain some semblance of body heat, while taking our appropriate places at the start line. Only, in all the frigid disorientation, I didn't take my appropriate place at the starting line. I took an inappropriate place FAR too close to the front of the pack. The Star Spangled Banner was sung (with a little more enthusiasm than I thought was necessary) and the lady next to me sang along (badly). The gun was fired and we're off. Of course, the amoeba all moved en mass for the first 100 feet or so. This is to be expected at any holiday 'fun' race, and quite frankly, who fucking cares if you get your big fast start out of the gate at a race where we aren't even chip-timed and a lot of the people are wearing pink tutus and shiny boxers shorts adorned with hearts over the top of their running pants.
But, there is always "that guy", isn't there? And there he was, coming from somewhere behind me, all serious about the day. He shoved me, yes SHOVED ME out of his way so he could scramble to the front of the pack. Dude, you just shoved a middle-aged woman out of your way, brushed past a guy wearing purple leg warmers and tripped over the cute 12-year-old wearing a stocking cap embroidered with the name of her elementary school to get to the front of the pack at the Valentine's Day 5k. Seriously? Because we are all out here just trying to survive, the windchill is minus ten and you are an asshole. Oh, and here's a newsflash: your finish at this race isn't going to qualify you for the Boston Marathon and the next race like this is the Get Lucky 7k with beer and Irish Dancers. Clearly you belong someplace else.
But, I wasn't able to dwell on rude guy, because first of all, what was I going to do, catch up to him? Ha! And soon enough, the amoeba broke up anyway, and there I was running along with my ipod music, trying not to be completely demoralized by the people who continuously passed me the entire rest of the race (note to self: next time start at the back of the pack, where you belong).
There were a few moments of glory. OK, glory is a bit strong. Maybe 'moments of moderately good feelings' is a more accurate term. One was at the south end of the lake, where it gets mildly hilly, and people started to struggle a bit. I run on ridiculous hills all the time out here in suburbia, so this didn't seem all that bad to me. I think I passed one, maybe two people (who later passed me) during this stretch. The second moment was just as I turned to the north and began the last half of the race. One of the traffic control guys said, 'keep running, because there is a whole sea of humanity behind you!'. A sea of humanity behind me? So, I'm not last, then?
These small victories were soon forgotten, however, as I turned north and the wind blew across Lake Harriet from the Northwest. For the love of God, why?? WHY?!??!?!?!? What little feeling I had in my thighs was soon gone and I began to wonder, has anyone ever died in the Valentine's Day 5k? During this stretch I was so grateful for the tags they had us wear on our backs, which read "Taken", "Single" or "It's Complicated". The idea of this was that people could meet and fall in love and not have to wonder if the person was actually "available", all during the race. Cute, huh? Well, when you can't even tell if someone is male or female because we are all wearing so much clothing, it might be difficult to zero in on your potential love interest. However, I was grateful for the distraction every time somebody with "It's Complicated" ran by. So, what's their story? Did they just break up last night because the other person in the relationship was tired of these endless 5k races? Are they married, but hoping to meet someone who doesn't care and wants to have an affair? The possibilities were endless and all of this thinking about it got me through most of the rest of the race.
Just as I began to wonder if my family has dashed to the nearest coffee shop, and would later claim that I just "didn't see them", there they were! Gerd was taking a video of me running by, Harm slapped me five, and Emily/Raena were screaming their lungs out that I was doing awesome. And then, the 7 other spectators who actually came to the race were cheering to us all as we ran in.
So, I made it. Jake finished five full minutes ahead of me even though I've been training all winter and he has run one time in the past three months. But, I made it!! And today, I have full feeling in all my extremities, and the front of my thighs as well.
We do it because we can!! We are Minnesotans. We will endure merciless (albeit accurate) jokes about our clipped vowels. We will endure misrepresentations about our climate, and correct persons everywhere else in the country and most of the world about the fact that it is not actually below freezing here year round. We will tolerate the fact that our friends and family on either coast don't like to visit us. And we will continue to perform acts that defy all reason and explanation.
And now, would somebody please book me a ticket to anywhere else but here? I'm from California, you know.
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