cardio and hiding away, yes

A year ago I spent lots of time by myself. I do enjoy my own company, but things had probably swayed a bit far into Cast Away mode. Those crayon depictions on my office wall of Greek letters and scenes from Kierkegaard’s life, well…

Ahem. This November things couldn’t be more different. In fact. Today I was home alone two, maybe three hours. I needed that. Stress builds for me after I’m constantly around other people, even those I love most. Y’know, when the kids are little the task is demanding, but a lot of the physicality and cuteness is stress-reducing. This stage of my life requires holding in more, somehow, maintaining composure. At least that’s where I’m at.

So today I cut loose a bit. I jogged outside, something I haven’t been able to do in sooo long. Here’s my lovely river path, where for more than a decade I trotted two or three times a week.

That’s not where I was today. I found one of this city’s softer trails. After dropping my son at the community college I zipped down the hill to the Amazon path area (part of Pre’s trail, maybe? not sure). Arching above streets and cloud-shrouded Spencer Butte an elegant rainbow caught fissures of sun. I stretched and got my feet going.

Every muscle felt rusted in place, or iced over, or something. Two women ahead of me on the wood chip trail walked their dappled greyhounds, and I felt compelled to accelerate around them so the long-legged canines wouldn’t greatly despise my gait. Ugh. Oh. Stiff, stiff, stiff. Definitely a stress effect.

Finally though my knees complained, my legs warmed, and visuals of unhurried trees filled one side-view, while the cars on the other seemed satisfied enough with the morning’s pace. Frog-croaks enhanced the balmy setting (it was sixty-seven degrees, according to Weatherbug, when I got home).

I didn’t do much else today (yay!). People stopped by. Jehovah’s Witnesses first, and although I’ve chatted on other occasions with one of the dedicated ladies, this afternoon I declined to answer her knock. Then a guy from Victory something church rang the doorbell and thrust a pamphlet my way, while I stooped to retrieve the brochure the JW ladies had pressed between doorjam and screen. But then I got a nice visit from Laura, and we conversed on several subjects and looked at the Internet, and I showed her what I know about html (took all of five minutes). Then Victoria came home, then my son, and soon now a friend of Victoria’s may arrive to trim my hair. (Appreciating Natalie.) At last dear Timothy should arrive, as long as the unfathomable blips from transmitters continue without interruption.

Oh, here’s a pic from me goofing off between religious peddlers and Laura’s arrival. You can see, in our “new” TV’s reflection, that I can better spot anyone approaching our front door. So there you have it. A 32-inch benefit.