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This is not, "Oh, that sounds good, we're proud of you, honey," support, which is always appreciated. This is, "What do you need to do to get ready? Where can we help? Are you up to date on everything?" Etc, etc.
For one thing, I need to be in much better physical shape than I am now. Best shape I'm in all year is about the third week of June through the end of Camp. Camp just works you hard, you're running and hiking everywhere. It's definitely not a sit-down job. But then school starts. And you're sitting in class. And you walk to class. And you sit and work and write papers on your computer. And you sit and play in the band. Sit sit sit sit sit.
Work, at least, I'm standing and moving around a bit.
Now, let us briefly consider my family. My two younger sisters both ran cross-country for most of high school, and the youngest is heavily into swing dancing (if you don't think this is exercise, you don't know what 'heavily into swing dancing' looks like). My Dad used to do half-marathons, and is the leader of a running club at his workplace. My Mom competes in 5ks.
I ran sprint races in high school, and like hiking. This whole 'running distance' concept is a difficult one for me.
So, today, Mom took me along on what she calls, "The Old Lady Run." It should be noted, my mother is not an old lady. At all. She's older than me, and that's about it. She's pretty, her eyes and smile sparkle, and she has soft black hair that bounces when she runs. She can kick my butt on sax, it should be noted.
The Old Lady Run is, for half the distance, paved bike trail, and the rest, county road, going out of town. You're supposed to run the flats, sprint the downhills, and, since it's the old lady run, walk the uphills.
Maybe if it had been a little shorter, I would have been able to do that. I managed to do that pretty well on the way OUT, and for about a third of the way back. And then my legs just said, "Forget it." I can keep moving, but there's not a thing I can do to make them go faster. I think, "sprint," or even "jack it up a notch," and there's nothing left. My legs cannot go any faster. There's nothing left.
I know this. I need new running shoes. I know this also: My stamina is crud. There are activities where I can last for hours. Running is evidently not one of them. Rollerblading, yes. I've done 29 miles in a day, rollerblading. The furthest I've walked is actually only thirteen miles, to my friend Ari's house. Various other physical activities, I can do for hours. Running, not one of 'em yet.
Nor is swimming. However, I already have free membership at two gyms, I'm not going to get a third at another just for the pool. But I'd really like to
Dude. Foster Arends. Yes, people drown there a lot for being stupid (there's this weird thing with a cold current running underneath), but it's free. As long as the weather's good, I can use that beach, and it's not all that far from school. On the other hand, it's not really ideal for swimming. Playing with friends in the water, sure, but that's different. Hmm. I will consider.
But, I now have my next goal plotted out.
I love Kathryn. I love her with a passion and a longing that...well it's not going anywhere. I would give anything to be with her and that's a problem. I think it's going to be easier if she's some mysterious girl from a mysterious past that I don't ever feel the need to talk about.
I move out to some place and tell almost nobody where it is. Least of all her. I attend a new ward in a building twenty minutes outside of nowhere and get a job. Get an apartment. Make my own way. After a while I even start dating. There's a really sweet redhead I met in Sunday School and I take her to dinner. She asks me where I'm from because I have a funny accent and I give her a very generic answer that doesn't so much as point to what state I'm from, or even country. She asks me why I left and I dodge that answer too. We rent a movie and watch it back at my apartment, with obnoxious roommates in and out of the kitchen the whole time. We don't know each other well, but she gets cold and snuggles up next to me, and that's okay. She notices a picture on the shelf of a gorgeous, young brunette and asks me who it is. I won't say. I take her home. She gives me all the indications that she wants me to kiss her even though this is our first time doing anything outside of church, but I won't. Because the truth is, there's only one girl whose lips I want to kiss, and right now she's a million miles away in someone else's arms, enjoying his warmth and smell. Right now I'm the last thing on her mind, because she has no idea where I am or if I'm ever coming home. I go back to my apartment, pull the picture off the shelf and fall asleep crying silently to myself.
If I'm here, I'm going to talk to her. I'm going to beg her for every scrap of attention she gives me. I'm going to watch her relationships for any sign that they aren't working out, even though she's becoming much closer with other men than she cares to be with me. If I'm here, I'm going to be pining after her, even though I promised myself that I wouldn't take her back if she broke my heart again. The truth is that I would in a second, because I'd trade this heartache a thousand times for one more kiss. That kiss isn't waiting for me. That's why I need to run as far and as fast as I can.
I'm in no condition to serve the Lord. I'm a wreck. I wanted nothing more than to go on a mission since I was five years old but right now I'd give up that dream in a second to make her mine forever. I'd propose to her now if I thought she'd say yes. But I don't, and so I'm going to run. I don't know where and I don't know how but I'm not staying here. I'll join the army if I have to but I can't stay here and not have her. Maybe that will change after a few months. But I doubt it. Because no matter how over her I am, she's always going to be the one I never should have let get away. She's always going to be the one girl that was perfect and for some reason I blew it. I can't live with that. I love her too much, but it doesn't matter to her so I'm running. Don't ask me to give you a call when I get there; I won't. Don't ask for a mailing address and don't ask for a phone number. This life is coming down around me and there's nothing holding me down. So if I don't get around to saying it in person whenever the time comes: goodbye. I hope to see you again someday, but don't go holding your breath.
Silence. It's so loud in your ears that you're deafened by it, and you can't tell.
I'm running. Seven other girls arranged on their own paths, beside the one I've been placed upon. I can feel the tension in me, the heart that tries to leap from my chest, the air drawn in with so much force - a storm in my throat. I see their mouths moving, the girl who drops her nachos, the kid toying with the football, the parents and other teams standing, praising us, making demands of us that we would demand of them. We see, but we do not hear. We feel, but we do not hear. We are deafened by silence. Distantly we feel the surface beneath us, distantly do we feel our pain, but silence rushes by us, around us, letting nothing touch us. Our race is virtual reality on mute.
I fall, and crash, sliding and burning to a stop after the finish line. Second in my heat isn't enough to place, but neither the pain nor the award concern me. I can hear again. With the friction bringing me to a stop, or perhaps as early as the loss of control, I dropped out of the dream. Now shock of feeling air rush back into my lungs, feeling my heart again, hearing all that's going on, really seeing anything that isn't a white line, blocks out the pain of bits of rubber gravel embedded in my knees, my hand, my arm. I'll be smudged for the rest of the day, but the world is real again.
Silence deafens you. You can hear silence. Does silence occur when sound leaves, or does it force sound away?
But if it's something you can hear, it's something you can feel. And thus, something you can dance to, play the accompaniment to, harmonize with.
I think I should like to see the score for silence.
So at about this time, Robin walks in with A. I guess I looked at his face, so she tells me that this weekend he was out of control, and that she had to grab him by the face to get him back to her. I was uncomfortable with the mark, so I told Claudia, who told me to go tell Jackie. I went to Jackie, who told me to bring A down. It took some time, but I got him down. We tried to get him to talk about it, but he wouldn’t. He said mom had hurt his feelings, but she didn’t hurt his body (though she’d admitted to me she had). Then he said something along the lines of, “if I tell mom will get in trouble and go to jail” so clearly, this has been told to him before.
D made threats at A who was annoying him, lost is safe body, and then lost it further by messing with furniture and then leaving the room. OY. Rest of morning wasn’t too incident-y; Z was allowed to go to art with Parker, and then we all went to the caf. We talked to Jackie because while C was in the room with a calm Z, he had thrown books at her and stomped on her foot quite a bit. She said that if he was calm now, we couldn’t send him home because then it sent a bad message. Dammit. Tomorrow, I guess. First thing he does as assault.
I had a meeting with Kate during Erin’s reading time, and then went to Erin’s meeting for a bit. Came back to SS which took some prompting but I got Z and then A to do it (E and D were in T.O. having already done it and doing read aloud). Recess Z and I were outside, and A had been picked up early. Science was…rough start. E had HAD it with Z, didn’t want to hear about Science since it was solid/liq/gas and he ‘knew that already’, and some other stuff. Then Z started being unsafe w/ pencil, so C and P got that away, but he kicked her, so we got him to the t.o. room and it again took a while for him to calm down. He’s escalating.
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