Thursday, February 24, 2005

Running to the rescue.

I went down to the Athlete’s House (don’t let the name lead you to assume ANYTHING) @ Belmont to buy some new running shoes. I’m an Asics Gel man, myself. Well, the reason I went there instead of some Giganto-we-have-it-all-in-stock Store was because the owner first talks me through where, why and how I run, then has me slip the shoe on, with the required arch support insole, and talks me through how it all should feel. That, and she gave me some kick-ass insight on stretching and the I.T. Band. I digress.

I had Ella with me, which made this all quite a process. While I tried on shoes, Ella used a rock she picked up outside to roll down the foot ramp on the funny stools they use to lace up a customer’s shoes. Unique to most stores, the owner sends me outside to walk/jog/run in the shoes. So, out we went – Ella and her rock, me and my potential new running shoes.

I stood her on the sidewalk and coached her on what was about to happen. I would run away from her, down the sidewalk for a block, and then run back as fast as I could. Before I allowed for questions and discussion, I darted off, expecting surprise to be the best tactic in this case. I ran down a block, watching her stand there and curiously observe my actions. I stopped short of a block, turned around and waved. She smiled, and I sprinted back, grabbing her as I ran by. This brought a BIG case of the giggles.

“Again!” This went on for 5 or 6 more times, with her finally not able to stand and wait. After a few turns, she'd give up and run at me as I came towards her. After 10 minutes, I was sure they’d called the cops looking for a rather expensive pair of running shoes on a shaggy guy with a sweet little girl.

I just returned from taking out the trash with my daughter in tow, wearing my new running shoes at her request. After dropping the cans on the street, she further suggested that she wait for me to run and run back.

It seems like there’s something wonderful, frightening, and exciting about risk and love. Swooping in and also swooped towards. We could have done that all afternoon. But, geez, I’m tired.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

32 Eskimo Words For Love

I did a lot of flying recently. Had a weekend to remember. Still trying to unpack it with loved ones. Part of the joy was reading. I left my computer/email-appendage at home, so it left me with a good amount of time to read.

I consumed Sue Monk Kidd's book The Secret Life of Bees. Not only did I fall in love with this great story, many of the expressions, and the characters, but I also came to love how she wrote it.

She had a small interview segment at the back of the book that dealt with this. It started with some images. Images and a few specific scenes. And it grew under her watch. I like that about creating - it feels like so much is in the immediate gift or natural brilliance of an artist. Not so much seems made about the tenacious ways of following a project, sometimes dropping it and picking it up, and finally seeing it grow to a size and shape never expected in the beginnning.

This enriched the weekend for me.

OK, that and hot saki, sushi brilliance, and chatting up and/or getting my picture with ?uestlove, Cyndi Lauper, and Triumph the Insult Comic Dog.

More to come on that, for sure. Pictures, too, if I figure that out.

Thursday, February 03, 2005

The Internet is useful, Part 2

One of my favorite traditions around Valentine's Day. Here's a new spin, and quite a creative way to get us in the mood.