Long Road Home

I ran 19 miles yesterday, and I I just don't know if I'll ever recover. First of all, I did about four stupid things. The first stupid thing was this: I didn't bring any food with me. Two: I ran (what I thought was) ten miles out and ten miles back on flat pavement with virtually no change in scenery. Three: I mistook the distance to Christy's bookstore (my designated turn around point) as ten miles when it was actually eleven. Four: I started running too late and stranded myself in the dark on a woodsy notorious-for-shady-happenings trail three miles away from home (since I had to walk back because I miscalculated the distance).

I am dearly hoping that if I don't do these four stupid things in the marathon, the result will be so great that I can run seven additional miles. This is the plan anyway. That and TAKE THE GU. I know its creepy, but TAKE IT. Food for runners, while arguably not food, is free and mentally helpful since one knows that it should work since it has for so many others for so long. Don't know what GU is? Google the GU.

K. came over for dinner Thursday night and I was euphorically happy. I picked up my clean laundry, washed the dirty stuff and made my bed. I reshuffled my bookshelf, and lastly, I stuffed my stack 'o papers under the couch which unfortunately contains another student loan (my fingers instinctively type 'stupid' instead of 'student') bill, the THIRD which I didn't even know about until it was 90 days overdue. How did they get my address to send me the threat, since they lost it for the warning? But, shoved under my couch, it looked a lot better. Christy bought flowers for the table and the sun showed up right about 5:15 and we opened all the windows. It was a beautiful evening, though the sun has been beautiful for days now.

K. brought a fantastic dessert and Pat helped me pick out the wine and I haven't touched alcohol in about four weeks because of the marathon, so I was ecstatic to share it with her. We boiled water and sauteed squash and asparagus and threw in some vodka sauce. At 7:15 Pat came home from work and dinner was served. It was fantastic-- mostly the wine. Two glasses later, we all had a lot of opinions. And I thought a lot about the world.

There are many things broken, and I hate it. Its true that resources are misused and social structures are corrupt and rotten. But I look at myself. I care a lot about people, but I'm a jerk all the time. I am broken, I feel corrupt and rotten. This doesn't make me depressed and repentant- I'm only human, but it does make me reevaluate. I care about the environment, and I'm constantly making comments at the grocery store about how we handle our resources, and yeah, it frustrates me. But then I look at myself again: how many things have I thrown out this week that I could have recycled just because I was lazy? Have I really done the research about my own city's recycling policies? Every time I get angry about the world, I look into my trash bin.

Along the road last night I saw signs for forest restoration and I thought about eschatology, one of my least favorite subjects. But I realized that in my hope for the future of the planet is a little bit of that reconciliation-talk from college. Part of the reason I both care and want so much to act is that I believe in something.

And that was a little bit of a surprise. Me. Believe. So there you go, you lovely Mormons.