The Recovering Journalist

Submission

I went to Mass this morning. If I'm up in time, it's a pleasant way to start the day. Today, the church offered gifts of daily reflection books on the the gospel of St. Matthew, the inspiration of our church. The entry I read for today ends with "Dear Father, in every contingency of life, bitter or sweet, I pray for the strength to say: Here I am, I have come to do your will."

Submission to God's will, to duty and responsibility, destiny and necessity, is sometimes easier than others.

For a less Biblical reference, take the movie "Hot Tub Time Machine." Frequently the idea of fate, destiny and "the butterfly effect" is mulled, mused and ultimately abused.

If you had things to do over again, would you take the same actions? If you knew what would happen, would you do what you could to avoid it, despite unknown consequences? Do you do what is right, even when it's not fun or popular or pleasant? Can you summon a sense of peace to accept the current moment, the current crisis, and smile and do what you can to move forward?

A friend recently gave me the best compliment I've ever received. "You're cynical, but you're ultimately an optimist," she said. "You have one of the best attitudes of any of my friends. You always try to see the bright side, even if you're cynical and sarcastic about it."

Those comments have stayed with me and buoyed me lately. I hope that's how the world sees me. Sure, I'd like to drop the cynicism from time to time, but we can't have it all, right?

I'll take a peaceful acceptance of the present. And maybe a touch of divine strength if there's enough to go around.

I hope everyone had fabulous Thanksgivings. Mine was a fantastic moment in time that I'll always be thankful for. The day began with a White family Turkey Trot participation and ended with the tastiest turkey we've ever had, my mom's signature spinach casserole and homemade cream puffs, courtesy of my Grandma Bobbie. The best dish? The family gathered. xo

 

Chestnuts roasting on an early fire

Ever since Starbucks unleashed its stable of seasonal beverages the day after Halloween I'd been musing a post about how every retailer seemed to wordlessly agree on the Nov. 1 holiday onslaught this year. I know Christmas has encroached further and further on Halloween in recent years, but even last year it seemed that retailers were still tentative - a tree here, a wreath there and a hesitant air of "Do you want this stocking right now?" prevailed.

The numbers must've been convincing because the advanced merry-making is definitive this year. Ornaments hung in the store windows of a Boston Body Shop store Nov. 1. I was still carrying around a jack o' lantern purse. It was awkward. And I hate to say it, but they made ME feel like the awkward one.

And while I'd love to slam consumerism and anything that threatens the (albeit very commercial) solemnity of Halloween and all the attention it deserves, I rather like having more time with the holiday music this time around. While other years I've "Feliz Navidad"ed myself into a frenzy, I feel I've been able to temper by approach to savor the season so far. (Granted, turkey day hasn't even hit yet.)

I cycle peppermint mochas in with my nonfat caramel macchiattos. I listen to a few holiday songs on the radio then turn back to Beyonce and Talking Heads.

Jimmy Kimmel tonight sounded refrains that sounded more like Regan of yesteryear. And by that I mean last year. "There's only so long you can roast chestnuts before they turn into raisins," he quipped. "And there's only so many times you can listen to 'Rockin' Around The Christmas Tree' before the human body is programmed to self-destruct."

If you ask me, we need a little Christmas now.

*We'll see where I stand halfway through December.

Pictorial state of the union

Hello, my loves! Too much, not all good, has happened of late. But the highlights include a smashing Halloween with the whores of Wonderland (as well as my sister in her kick-ass, homemade Operation game costume) in Beantown ... 

 

 

And today, technically yesterday, I completed my first-ever half marathon in two hours and 18 minutes. According to my knees, 13.1 miles is the longest distance they'd ever like to run at once. They've put in a request for that to be the going limit. Right now I have to agree.

It was much more emotional than I thought it would be. Tears welled in my eyes at numerous points, and especially when I saw my dad at the finish along with my friend Trish, who had stayed hours after her 5K finish to hand me flowers. Of course I was passed by a blind man (who was fast as hell), a guy with a prosthetic leg, and I kept crisscrossing a guy who was severely disabled - and right at the end, as predicted, I was passed by a woman who could be my grandmother ... if my grandmothers were in wicked running shape. All in all, despite the frigid morning and my wicked headache, it turned into a beautiful, beautiful day.

I'm surprised by how proud of myself I am. I trained really hard for 12 weeks and stayed dedicated to the schedule. I'm proud that my training prepared me well. (I still can't get over how many hills there were - the hill back by Myers Park High School and the hilltop finish were pretty killer.) And because I think of marathons as being the ultimate in difficulty, I'm glad I didn't think too much about this being hard. It was a lot harder than I gave it credit for being. Especially with my little legs and shitty knees.

I plan to keep on running, though. The new running tights I've purchased are super warm and comfy as are my hat and gloves - a stark change from my training in August and September in heat that had me swooning. Thank you to everyone who helped support and encourage me and to all the race volunteers today. It was f'ing freezing earlier and I'm uber impressed by the kindness of strangers. Now, I welcome bedtime.