"So bury your burning hatred like a hatchet in the snow
Darlin' do not fear what you don't really know
If you have a broken heart or a battered soul
Find something to hold on to to let go
to help you through the hard nights like a flask filled with hope."
-Brett Dennen
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Saturday, April 25, 2009
And the Pavement Sparkles like the Snow Used to
I've never liked running inside on treadmills. There is nothing to look at but the amount of time that has painfully passed since I began, or if running in front of a mirror, my knees. After watching them bend and straighten countless times, they begin to look strangely foreign to me, like they don't belong to me. After that weirds me out, I turn to my feet. The initially mesmerizing rhythm the humming treadmill forces me to adhere to, eventually gets a little old and I return to my knees, and so it goes.
It has been warm enough to run outside for a little while now and I never want to step on another treadmill.
I'm glad I don't know Rexburg that well yet. I can still run out into an unknown area and just get lost for a little while. I keep my phone with me and I usually know about where I am, but I LOVE not quite recognizing my surroundings as I run by them. When I know where I am and exactly how far it is from home, all I think about is how far I have left to go. It sucks the fun out of it entirely. When I'm surrounded by unfamiliarity I feel like I can just run forever, further and further into nothing. I can become lost in my imagination as well as my surroundings. I close my eyes for seconds at a time and try to just feel myself run. I sometimes think I could fall asleep while still pumping my legs. I remember times in my life that made me laugh, or smile. Then I wonder what the good people of Rexburg think about a girl running down the street with a smile slapped on her face. I imagine what people I know and love are doing at that moment. I imagine conversations I could potentially have with someone in the world. I think of ways I could have said or done things better. If I had the choice I wouldn't change much. I think about my future. I occasionally wonder and hope I'll somehow end up back at my dorm at the end of my run. I see things and wonder how they came to be, like a bench sitting on the sidewalk outside a wood shop. It's massive, looks like it's made out of a tree trunk, and costs $250.00. Who would buy that? I don't say that critically, I really would just like to meet the person who buys it. Other times I move my lips along to whatever song is playing in my ears. I sing along in my mind and make the appropriate facial expressions, which I suppose also looks fairly silly.
I speed up as I get closer to home. My legs hurt. I go faster. I feel fast, but I'm not. I run past the door and slow to a stop. I don't go inside right away, instead I collapse on the ground. I lay on my back with my hands behind my head and feel like I'm absorbing something, but I'm not sure what. Maybe it's the endorphins talking. I wait for my breath to slow, until all I can hear is my heartbeat, I actually feel it pumping. I lay in the shade and stare at whatever is directly above me, occasionally closing my eyes and thinking about how good this feels, until I start to get cold and stiff. I suck whatever pleasure is left out of the grass I'm laying on, then I pick myself, drag myself inside, and start a blog entry.
It has been warm enough to run outside for a little while now and I never want to step on another treadmill.
I'm glad I don't know Rexburg that well yet. I can still run out into an unknown area and just get lost for a little while. I keep my phone with me and I usually know about where I am, but I LOVE not quite recognizing my surroundings as I run by them. When I know where I am and exactly how far it is from home, all I think about is how far I have left to go. It sucks the fun out of it entirely. When I'm surrounded by unfamiliarity I feel like I can just run forever, further and further into nothing. I can become lost in my imagination as well as my surroundings. I close my eyes for seconds at a time and try to just feel myself run. I sometimes think I could fall asleep while still pumping my legs. I remember times in my life that made me laugh, or smile. Then I wonder what the good people of Rexburg think about a girl running down the street with a smile slapped on her face. I imagine what people I know and love are doing at that moment. I imagine conversations I could potentially have with someone in the world. I think of ways I could have said or done things better. If I had the choice I wouldn't change much. I think about my future. I occasionally wonder and hope I'll somehow end up back at my dorm at the end of my run. I see things and wonder how they came to be, like a bench sitting on the sidewalk outside a wood shop. It's massive, looks like it's made out of a tree trunk, and costs $250.00. Who would buy that? I don't say that critically, I really would just like to meet the person who buys it. Other times I move my lips along to whatever song is playing in my ears. I sing along in my mind and make the appropriate facial expressions, which I suppose also looks fairly silly.
I speed up as I get closer to home. My legs hurt. I go faster. I feel fast, but I'm not. I run past the door and slow to a stop. I don't go inside right away, instead I collapse on the ground. I lay on my back with my hands behind my head and feel like I'm absorbing something, but I'm not sure what. Maybe it's the endorphins talking. I wait for my breath to slow, until all I can hear is my heartbeat, I actually feel it pumping. I lay in the shade and stare at whatever is directly above me, occasionally closing my eyes and thinking about how good this feels, until I start to get cold and stiff. I suck whatever pleasure is left out of the grass I'm laying on, then I pick myself, drag myself inside, and start a blog entry.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Spring? I think not.
There has been a lot of talk of spring being on its way here in Idaho in the past two weeks. It has been warmer and a lot of snow has melted revealing smashed brown grass and mud.
I like the warmer weather, but brown muck does not make me feel at all spring-ish; however, I know that spring IS coming, because I inexplicably break out in hives and swelling daily when the seasons change. If you're wondering, the bottoms of my feet are itching and slightly swollen at the present time. So, if you ever see me dragging my bare feet around the carpet, I am simply trying my best to satisfy the annoying itch that plagues my poor footsies. It is a difficult task for those who have not had the pleasure. You press your feet into the carpet and move around any way you can and as fast as you can to stop the itching, but if you press to hard or move to fast, your feet literally start to burn. Walking on swollen feet is almost as annoying. It is the constant feeling that something is stuck to the bottom of your foot and should be removed, but cannot be. My feet are not the only part of me that go through this. I frequently wake up with hives on my knees and or elbows. It all usually goes away in an hour or so and it is much more bearable than it has been in previous years and season changes, but it is a nuisance. Well the point of all this is to excuse myself from being too excited for spring to be on its way. Spring and summer are my favorite months, but brown muck and hives would bring anybody down.
I like the warmer weather, but brown muck does not make me feel at all spring-ish; however, I know that spring IS coming, because I inexplicably break out in hives and swelling daily when the seasons change. If you're wondering, the bottoms of my feet are itching and slightly swollen at the present time. So, if you ever see me dragging my bare feet around the carpet, I am simply trying my best to satisfy the annoying itch that plagues my poor footsies. It is a difficult task for those who have not had the pleasure. You press your feet into the carpet and move around any way you can and as fast as you can to stop the itching, but if you press to hard or move to fast, your feet literally start to burn. Walking on swollen feet is almost as annoying. It is the constant feeling that something is stuck to the bottom of your foot and should be removed, but cannot be. My feet are not the only part of me that go through this. I frequently wake up with hives on my knees and or elbows. It all usually goes away in an hour or so and it is much more bearable than it has been in previous years and season changes, but it is a nuisance. Well the point of all this is to excuse myself from being too excited for spring to be on its way. Spring and summer are my favorite months, but brown muck and hives would bring anybody down.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
More Golf Clubs
Today after practice, I walked into the sport's equipment room and I saw several sets of golf clubs. None of them appeared to be missing one club. The mystery continues.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Just Wondering
Today I saw a young man walking using a golf club as cane. I wondered what happened to his leg. I wondered where he got a golf club. Does he have a whole set? I assume he is a college student, so why did he bring his clubs to a place that does not have a golf coarse? Maybe he only has one club. Why did he buy just one? Maybe he just found it somewhere. I wonder who lost that one golf club. Would they be offended by its being used as a cane? I'm sure they would feel sorry for the limping young man. If they knew, would they buy him a cane? Maybe they would just demand the club be returned and leave the youg man to hop around in the snow. He could have stolen the club, but that is doubtful simply because he is at BYU Idaho. He is probably LDS. Maybe he stole it a long time ago and brought it with him to remind himself of his guilt and to never steal anything ever again. I wonder if I'll see the young man with the golf club again.
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