« I wish all existence could be described in equations | Main | 5k »

June 1, 2009

three people ago

Things I worry about, great and small:

1. That my viola teacher is going to yell at me for buying a new bow. She is convinced that I'm not capable of buying a bow unless she is right there with me. I am so glad I don't work for her.

2. Tiny stinging sensation right where the stress fracture used to be. This is weird, feels like something just under the skin rather than at the bone. I feel it when I rub my leg lightly. I mostly don't feel it when I run, only toward the end of the run and only if I push hard, and then it still doesn't hurt really, but I know it's there. I'm going to give this a few days, but in the meantime I'm worried because of the location of the discomfort.

2. Yesterday I called my mother and talked to her for the first time in almost 19 years. We were never close, not ever, and I think there was much relief on both sides when we lost track of each other in 1991. During the late 90s I tried to track her down using various online searches. Eventually I obtained a phone number, but once I dialed it I realized I had nothing to say, and I didn't want her to think I wanted anything from her. I figured she'd certainly arranged her life around her absent children, and who was I to disrupt that? I've tried 4 or 5 times to describe how I actually decided to call her yesterday, but I can't. Suffice it to say that after some initial confusion she was dee-lighted to hear from me, and she wants us all (my brother and me) to be a little fambly again, and she's plumb crazy. The whole conversation might well have been between me and one of my 70yo fibromyalgia clients, and thanks to my massage-therapy training I was able to listen sympathetically and let her rattle on, and not divulge too much about myself. Of course, I had a glass of bourbon at hand the entire time. Mike came home in the middle of all this and I mouthed "it's my MOTHER" and he nodded sympathetically and fetched me a refill. Later, we were talking about how weird it was attempting to "catch up" after such a long time, and he remarked that 19 years was like 3 people ago. I'm glad I talked to my mother, but I really have mixed feelings about this intsy-family thing. I don't hate families at all; on the contrary, I really enjoy seeing my friends happy with their families. But I've been without one for such a long time that I don't miss it or need it. Or want it, and that's what I worry about.

Posted by joe positive at June 1, 2009 8:37 AM

Trackback Pings

TrackBack URL for this entry:
http://www.running-blogs.com/mt/R-B-tb.cgi/1742

Comments

Post a comment




Remember Me?