Saturday, January 1, 2011


"For all that we struggle 
For all we pretend 
It don't come down to nothing 
Except love in the end 
And ours is a road 
That is strewn with goodbyes 
But as it unfolds 
As it all unwinds 
Remember your soul is the one thing 
You can't compromise 
Take my hand 
We're gonna go where we can shine"
-David Gray, "Shine"

There is no gentle or nice way to put it.  For me, the first hour of 2010 sucked and the last hour of 2010 sucked.  Those 2 hours sit on opposite ends of my shelf like evil, gargoyle-shaped bookends, sneering at me, daring me to move them away.  In between them are stacked volumes of experiences that occurred during the year.  Some are shiny and new, standing tall, calling out to be read. Some are worn and used, with tattered bindings and dog-eared pages, re-visited over and over again, the lessons still not memorized.  Others are filled with memories and snapshots of accomplishments, races and runs, reminders of what worked and what did not. Still others are in the discard section, maybe to be burned in a beautiful bonfire, or maybe to be passed along to someone who can benefit from the words.  These chapters, stories, experiences and manuals all come together to form quite a year.  As it ended, it felt mostly like a year in which I closed many doors and left behind the things I no longer need in my life. 

The good news is that I feel the new energy, and the first hour of 2011 was already better than the last hour of 2010.  Maybe it's all in my head, or maybe things have really shifted.  The sun is shining brightly, it is warm for 1.1.11 here in NY, and I had a gorgeous 6+ mile run with Jen.  Part of our route takes us past the waterfront, across which we can see the Manhattan skyline.  Today, as we rounded that bend, I looked out at the sandy beach, grey-blue water and city to my right.  I looked ahead at the black pavement, outlined by  the white piles of snow, leftover from our blizzard, the sun reflecting off its melting puddles.  I noticed how warm I was and how good the air felt to breathe, and I had only one thought: "Man, we are so lucky to be able to run here, like this..."  

And now, it feels so good to replace one of those bookends.  

1 comment:

Behavior Diva said...

Wow Jen.... I love this! Here's to a a wonderful shelf in 2011,