So, I had this whole long post written up about how I haven't written in forever and I tried to give a bunch of reasons and excuses. I actually wrote it up freehand on the back of a pre-departure report (paperwork that gives the flight attendants pertinent information for each flight, like mileage, passenger counts and if there are any special assistance passengers) and then carried it around in my purse for a week without typing it up.
I talked a little bit about how wedding planning had eaten my soul (it did, a little, but I'm back to being excited about it instead of resenting the whole thing) and about how I've been flying more than I would like and that commuting is the bane of my existence. I wrote the same "I don't know in what direction to take the blog" drivel that I think I've written three or four times since the fire. The fire. I wonder sometimes when I'll stop using that as a crutch.
Speaking of the fire, I had a long Minneapolis layover last month and I decided that after a 12 mile run, a great thing to do would be to walk past my building. There had been talk early on that it would just be torn down, but some of the residents came together and petitioned to have it be made a historical landmark and then some guy stepped in and bought it and is renovating it. I had heard all of these things but I don't know what I was expecting to see or how I thought I would respond.
It was amazing to me how easily my feet took me through my old running routes. And how, even after a year, I ran up Franklin and didn't even have to think about turning left onto Nicollet and then right onto 19th and then left again onto Third. It was automatic. And as I approached 17th, I slowed my pace but my heart started beating faster. I turned left and walked up the block and pretty soon, my building was in sight. And there was a roof on it. And there were new blinds on all the windows and the windows all had glass. The front door was still boarded up with sooty-looking plywood, but otherwise, the building didn't look much different than it had when I lived there.
I was prepared to tear up a little. But I thought, somehow, that after a year, I would be able to keep my shit together. Shit did not stay together. Shit fell apart. Hard. I started straight-up sobbing. As in, completely unable to hold my body upright, doubled-over, heaving, wheezing sobs. I was physically exhausted and completely unprepared mentally for the situation. I had just sort of assumed that no one would be there and that I could have my breakdown in peace, but there was one guy who was moving building materials in and out of the side alley door and I was making rather a lot of noise. He threw me a "You okay?" and a wary look and I decided I should probably move along. So I did.
Then I went to Target, red-eyed from crying and covered in dried sweat. I've apparently lost all sense of decorum when it comes to after-run activities. In DC last week, I went for an awesome 6-mile run and then decided to go to Starbucks on my way back to the hotel. The thing about running outside is that when it's 58 degrees and sunny, you feel totally great & not too sweaty. But the minute you step inside anywhere, your body is like, "What the hell, dude?" and starts POURING sweat out your pores. It's pretty sexy.
So that is really all I have been up to lately. Flying, planning and running. I'm running a half marathon in 16 days and getting married in 29 days. That's something I'll get to check off the dusty 30 Before 30 List. It hasn't been totally languishing, so I'll have some posts about that soon.
I know I keep saying it and I know I keep not sticking with it, but I really miss writing here and I really want to get back into it. Being the total nerd that I am, I do a lot of reading on various topics and I was reading on a weight-loss blog or in a magazine that when you set a goal, instead of saying, "I'd like to do that" you should say, "I will do that." And it makes total sense. So here's to that. I will be update this blog more consistently.