I’m reclaiming my space. Well, it’s not completely my space—I do live with other human beings who have their claims on it too—but let’s not count them for the time being.
Years ago, my good friend Reid, father of two and husband of one, told me, “I’d prefer not to have roommates.” And yet he lived with three other women, all of whom he’d chosen. We got a decent laugh at the conundrum he had for a life.
To get my space, first came a toy switcheroo from last season, where, in exchange for putting toys in the attic, Evelyn could take some down. It’s not that she has massive amounts of toys—it’s just that some of the sizes of those Hot Wheels contraptions, especially four of them, do not store well in closets or under beds.
At that same time, the bins of magnets, Legos, and odds and ends that had overtaken the living room shelf were either stored in the attic or moved to the closet in her bedroom. Which, I haven’t the foggiest why I hadn’t thought of sooner. Maybe because the idea of imaginary toy play happening in the living room feels much more magical than ouching with bare feet on embedded Lego men and their tiny swords.
So yeah. I’m back, baby. The living room is mine!
Remember how I’ve been running the past couple of months, and for the past three weeks I’ve been doing it practically daily, with a rest day on Sunday? Well, just today I’ve decided to learn how to run.
Midway through the first mile of today’s run, my knee felt destabilized, and I worried about it. Trying to feel stronger, I experimented with a couple of different things, imagining one tweak or another might help. Nothing did, and by the end of the 3.1 miles, I could tell I’d aggravated it. I haven’t yet called it an injury, but I am elevating, icing, and watching professionals teach running posture.
Each one is blowing my mind.
You mean I need to pick my thigh up and carry my foot over an invisible rod hooked to my ankle with every step forward?
I’m hopeful that getting the mechanics right will change my experience of running. I already enjoy it, but it’s been feeling like a slog, even with my heart and breathing getting stronger. I want to change the slog.
And perhaps—if I’m doing that bouncy gazelle move fancy runners seem to do—I can lead a pain- and injury-free existence while continually improving my speed and capacity.
We shall see.
There’s a minute and a half until intermission in the Kraken game. Dave and my current evening ritual is an episode or two of Seinfeld, and it’s almost time. I need to finish this and get it posted, because that dang show is too good to half-watch and half-write to.
See you tomorrow.
Love,
Jaclynn
Going On 40 