What can I say? Everything was good about the 2010 Akron Road Runner Marathon. The weather was absolutely perfect from start to finish that many people had PR performances. I was high on post race endorphins for a good week, which helps to bear the pain from delayed onset soreness. Runphoto.com displayed running photos just a few days after the marathon. My friend Suzanne called to tell me she saw my pictures and said that each one looked like I was having a personal love affair with the cameraman. Yep, after 7 years of running this race, I've identified every place on the course the photographers set up. She's right, on one point, about the love affair, but it has nothing to do with the men behind the camera--I've had a love affair with this race from the get go. I might even break out the wallet and buy a few this time. I like the one I had taken with Bob--we look redheaded wholesome, and like Suzanne said, cut straight out of cream cheese. I'm finally at peace with this race, it's dogged me for so long--finally feel a sense of closure with my most favorite course in the world, yet I've set a new bar, however, and now I can spend the next seven years trying to reach that. It's what I love most about running--there are always new goals to attain, so the journey is never done. I'm finally starting to get that through my thick head, about goals and life's journey, in general.
I've always been a goal setter, never liked being mid-way attaining a goal, never liked transitions and my life for the last two years has felt very transitional. In my apartment complex, Transition Central, I call it, there is a U-Haul trailer every weekend backed up to someone's apartment, moving couches and wide screen T.V.'s, in or out, the kids faces change, the dogs and cat running around the complex change, but I'm one of the regulars now. The big Siamese cat that used to sit in the middle of the driveway licking his balls is now replaced by a grey terrier named Rascal that barks his head off at me every time I get out of my car. I'm the big haired redheaded woman that pays her rent on time, grows tomatoes on her balcony, and requires little maintenance, except for periodic hair de-cloggings, with the sunny little daughter that knows all the kids, and the quiet son that rarely goes out. I could buy my own place, but trouble is, my name is still on my ex's mortgage.
I've finally accepted that I'm not in an exclusive relationship with anyone and that's OK. I'm dating a few very nice men, vastly different, taking it day to day, avoiding speculation about the future or their suitability as a long term mate, because cause what's the point? Only God knows what that holds, so I'm trying something different--taking things as they come. I'm finally settling into transition, if that makes sense, and accepting my new status as a capable divorced woman, free to date whomever I please, even if they fall outside the rigid Match.com specifications I initially set up for myself, which specifies a man between the age of 35 and 50, between 5-9 and 6-3, college educated, runner, gainfully employed, cause I've met a lot of men that fit that mold and don't chemically commute despite following the recipe.
I used to think I was a pretty non-judgmental person, but after yesterday's service at the Chapel on judging and forgiveness, I realized I've been harshly judgmental of those closest to me, and of myself, especially. Finally, I'm settling into transition, if that makes sense. I'm taking down the barriers and running for fun with no particular destination in mind. Acceptance really is the key to most everything.