Speaking at Well Spring

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My friend Pam and I spoke last night at Well Spring Assisted Living Community on the topic of "Passing Down Your Family Stories." We gave an hour-long talk on how to find the inspiration to write, how to stir memories, the importance of adding details and the five senses to your work...

It was great. I always feel a little jittery when I go into a retirement community. Blair's dad was in assisted living, but a lot of the people in his home were far gone, mentally. That was not the case last night. These people are brilliant. One woman has 40 years of college professorship behind her and has published hundreds of articles on speech pathology. She is also a psycho-drama coach and shared stories of how she would engage high school kids in Shakespeare and Beowulf when she briefly taught high school English.

Another woman said she didn't think she had anything interesting to write about, then proceeded to tell us about the five kids she'd raised. Another woman taught senior yoga and had the outlines of a book in her mind and was ready to start writing. I gave her my card so we could talk through her project.

Several of the attendees had already started jotting down stories or memories and just weren't sure how to organize them.  Overall, it was an incredibly fun evening for us, and inspiring. As I said, after I found out the background of people there, I felt like they should be the ones standing up and lecturing. There were several that are natural storytellers that I could have listened to for hours.

Well Springs is a beautiful community. Lush grounds, gourmet food, and we spoke in a stunning auditorium. I'd welcome the chance to return.

Hail, Oil Light, & No Underwear...

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200880-1559793-thumbnail.jpgThis trip is cursed. That was the thought going through my mind for about the first three hours of our trip to DC this weekend to see my mom.

To begin, Blair and I were on different wavelengths about dinner. Since we didn't leave for DC until almost 6:30 Friday night after Blair got home from work, we decided we'd just grab Wendy's for dinner. Blair pulled into the parking lot and I said, "What are you doing?" His plan was to run inside and eat, mine was to gobble food in the car so as not to waste a moment's time. He won (he had the car keys) but being such a time-oriented individual, it started the trip with a bad taste in my mouth.

Then came the underwear. We were about an hour on the road when for no reason I can pinpoint I suddenly thought of underwear. And realized I had forgotten to pack any bras OR underwear for a 2 day trip. S***. "We'll find a Wal-mart or something," said Blair. Fine, but cheap Wal-mart undies just aren't fun for a vacation get away, you know?

But the underwear didn't matter because soon after that, the oil light came on in the (new/used) Toyota. We found a gas station and added oil. The light went away. For 10 minutes. Then it was back on. We were still a good 4 hours out from DC on rural roads and we just decided the hell with it, we don't want to drive tense with an oil lamp on at midnight, so we turned around and went home. That's right. Three hours on the road Friday night and the only place it got us was home.

We're in bed by 10:30 but at 10:50 I fly upright because someone is dropping small bombs on the house. That's what it sounded like anyway. I look outside and there is hail the size of my fist coming down. I have never seen hail that big. I was worried the skylights were going to crack open from the weight and force of it.  I flipped on the back porch light and all I saw was a swirl of wind and what looked like sand and hail.

"Are we under a tornado watch?" I called to Blair, who, freight train noise or not, hadn't budged from our bed.

"I don't know," came a muffled reply.

I turned on the TV but there was no weather warning and in two minutes, the whole thing was over. Even the rain moved on.

So we got up at 4:30 am on Saturday, showered, packed some underwear, and took a new car and tried again. This time we made it to DC. And were so glad we went. We went to the Spy Museum and took a good 6-7 mile walk around the mall and monuments. I hadn't seen the FDR monument yet, which was incredible. Then we walked and walked and walked looking for an Indian restaurant, because we'd both decided we wanted Indian Food. And when we found it, it looked like a little hole in the wall but upon entering, it was glorious. Small space, great food, attentive staff. Perfect.

We had brunch the next morning with mom and her best friend and then headed home.  And even though we'd had a great trip and had only been gone really about 36 hours, we were so happy to be home. We are the ultimate homebodies. We like our home, our food, our shower, our bed, our stuff.  Love being home.

Now, of course, we've got to get the Toyota into the dealership.  Just praying it's something minor and we didn't just waste $$$ buying a clunker car. We shall see...

First Run After the Marathon

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I felt a little nervous as I approached the treadmill today. I remember feeling the same way about my first run after the Kiawah marathon. Even though all I had planned was a slow and easy three miles, I felt jittery. Like, what if I couldn't do it? Or what if it hurt so much that it made me not want to run?

[Quick side story. On Sunday after the marathon I woke up and felt great. Minimal soreness. We spent all day gardening and then went for a walk. I was like, "I am a running God.  I must be in phenomenal shape to run a marathon and feel nothing the day after!" Then I woke up Monday morning and set foot out of bed and thought, "Ohmygod." I clutched my legs and hobbled around the bedroom. Boom-a-rang karma for bragging.]

But my treadmill run this evening was fine. Nice, slow 9:30 pace to some of my favorite music. My legs felt strong and, even better, I'm breaking in new shoes and didn't even notice them. They feel like I've been running in them for weeks.

The plan is to take it easy for a couple of weeks. Have a couple of 15 mile weeks then build back up to 25 miles/week by mid-June. Mid-June to mid-July will be semi-serious training, where I'll start throwing in some hills and long runs. Then July 22nd is D-day. That's 18 weeks out from the Richmond Marathon. From there forward, it's focus, focus, focus.

I've been thinking about why I'm so taken by running and have decided it has to do with control. Hi, my name is Dena and I have control issues. (Hi, Dena!) To a great extent, I control my running. I can improve my speed and strength by a series of planned exercises. I do the work, I see the results.  It's as simple as that. This is almost in direct opposition to my life as a writer, where I do the work  and maybe, if I'm lucky and know some people, and the stars are aligned, I might kinda-sorta land an almost book deal. I do the work, but whether a payoff will occur is quite often questionable. It's one of the things about my chosen career that both frustrates and intrigues me. (Give me a challenge and dare me to back away from it. Can't be done.)

Anyway, the beany enchiladas I have in the oven are almost so done, so this concludes our deep thoughts portion of tonight's blog. Here's wishing you speed, strength, and control in your path in life.