I am planning an escape. I don’t know where I’m going to go, but I am going to go, for a handful of days, somewhere, alone.
I want to visit a National Park, but I can’t decide which. The closest, that I haven’t visited in adulthood, are as follows: Cuyahoga Valley National Park in Ohio, Great Smoky Mountains National Park in North Carolina, and Congaree National Park in South Carolina.
Mostly I just want to get lost in the woods for a little bit and take some time to just be with my thoughts and whatnot, and I’m pretty sure any of those parks would facilitate that, but I can’t decide.
So far, being 30 has been pretty terrible. I’m not ready to call bullshit on it being such a great decade or whatever, but these first few weeks have been primarily filled with rage and sadness, one half marathon PR, one speeding ticket and a lot of beers. It’s not all terrible, but it’s far from great.
I’m over on the Hooray Collective Day, writing about breaking. Here’s a snippet:
It is impressive the measures the head will take to save the heart.
It doles out reality in digestible bites, keeping the full weight of terrible things from settling over us. It still hurts, the parts and pieces it feeds us, but it holds back, the head, from giving us more than we can swallow.
It’s called denial, I suppose, that heady phase of grief that stops us from swallowing all the parts at once and choking on the full weight of the thing. It is the head’s best defense in protecting the heart, I think.
Read the rest here.
On Saturday I’m running the Monument Ave 10k, which is one of my favorite races. It’s very Richmond, an easy and flat down and back on one of the most beautiful streets in the city. There are tons of bands and spectators and great signs and there’s a costume contest and people take it pretty seriously. I’ve felt a little off since getting sick right after the half, but I’m hoping to impress myself at the 10k on Saturday and run hard, especially if it decides to rain.
Also, if it could stop calling for rain every time I have race over 3.1 miles, that would be super cool and spiffy, although, that said, racing in the rain is sort of great, and even though I will bitch about it before hand, running in the rain always makes me feel like a legitimate runner, like I’m a badass for braving some sprinkles or some shit.