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| Finally outside again and so glad! The sunset was spectacular. |
Hello; my name is Katherine and it's been two weeks since my last walk.
Two weeks. That's the longest time between walks or workouts that I've experienced since getting back on the road to healthy. Part of becoming fit was the realization that as much as I'd like to, I'm not able to actually do everything I want to do. There are simply not enough hours in the day or days in the week. So when I started making better choices for myself in the food and exercise departments, I also started making better decisions for my after-work schedule. I've tried hard not to overbook myself so that there is plenty of time to shop, prep dinners and lunches and walk, either outside or inside (with Leslie). But I lost control of the calendar last week and the previous one as well and wound up having 8 evening obligations in 11 days. Add in several long days into evenings at work and my life quickly became a flashback to drive-through dinners, sleepless nights with no decompressing time and no time to work out.
Despite the cold, it was a relief to get out. I did my usual dusk/dark route--one with sidewalks and streetlights. But it was still pretty light when I started out and made my way down to the river. Knowing it would be dark by the time I reached my usual picture place at McCarter Park, I paused at the river's edge at the park several blocks from my house. The empty, still swings said as much about the cold as the thermometer. So did the ice on the very shallow water. I'm grateful for the shallowness, though, as the 2 - 4 inches of rain predicted for this week could really do a lot of damage otherwise.
A couple of hundred feet more and I'm saddened to see yet another house is gone. So strange to see these empty lots. There is really nothing that says a home was once there except for the emergency fencing and a small bit of rubble. It's almost as though a giant crane dipped out of the sky and plucked them up. It's only about a dozen houses that will ultimately be razed in the wake of 2011's Irene. A small number compared to the houses that were lost elsewhere in New Jersey last year during Sandy and the whole towns that were destroyed this month in the Philippines. I can't help but think of how powerless people are in the face of these natural disasters and how strong the communities are that overcome them. My mind wanders back to the days just after the hurricane (or tropical storm) and how amazing this town, my friends, colleagues and neighbors, and my family were in the days and weeks after it.
No time to look back though. Knee is feeling not awful so I try running a little--emphasis on "a little." But it's more running than I've done in months and shortly I'm enjoying a gorgeous sunset at the pond. The purple aura of the setting sun isn't as vivid in this picture as it was while I paused to admire it. It was pretty dramatic. I headed off to the back of the park as the light quickly began to fade but then thought better of completing the circle around the pond. The other side is wooded with rocky, rutted paths, hostile roots and wicked stray branches. And I know the bears aren't all asleep yet--we've had a lot of evidence of their bulking up at school lately and had to order more "bear-proofing" on our dumpsters. Probably not a good idea to wander alone in the dark in the woods. The Girl Scout leader in me prevails.It's about two miles to the pond from my house and another mile and a quarter to get back downtown. No running on the way back. It's weird but when I run I look ahead, watching for each little milestone and enduring the dialog in my head (go as far as the orphanage, run to the church, you can make it to the spring ....). But on the darkened streets and sidewalks, I'm mostly looking down, trying not to trip on broken concrete or miss a curb. The last thing I need to do is fall.
Turning onto Broadway, I walk along the river to the bridge and then turn for home. The snowflakes are up on light poles and glitter and glow so warmly and our homespun candy canes line the sidewalks of the retail district. This is such a special time of year in this town and this weekend coming up will be a lot of fun with a downtown open house and holiday parade. These local traditions make living here such a sweet experience--they create a certain rhythm of promise and comfort and spell "home" to me. Oddly, as I took this last picture, my trusty walking companion (known as iPhone) powered down for no good reason that I could tell. Forced to walk the last half mile without music, my thoughts seemed to grow louder in the silence. Of course, there's always music in downtown Denville. There are speakers all throughout downtown and by this weekend, there will be Christmas music all day, every day. Tonight there are familiar old standards. I don't know of any other town that does this (although I'm sure there must be some). You just have to smile when you're here. There's music in the air plus coffee on three corners. And much, much more.
So good to get back out. I hereby promise myself not to sabotage my schedule, whether by accident or by my inability to say no. Three nights out of five is the limit. I can't afford for it not to be.
~~~
Soundtrack for a Monday night--members of Team Katherine, those who helped me so much last year. Perfect for getting back on track.
Colbie Caillat's new single, Hold On
Andy Grammer's EP, Crazy Beautiful.
Chris Wallace's record, Push Rewind. Listen to Keep Me Crazy--fun song.
Tyler Hilton's record, Forget the Storm. Loaded Gun: best running song.
Team Captain Gavin DeGraw was not on this walk (iPhone #fail) but his new album, Make A Move is in my head almost all the time.
3.88 Charity Miles for Nothing But Nets. Malaria still robs a child of his or her life every minute.
