Eight miles yesterday through clover and wild flowers, twelve and a half miles the day before around the lake. The cormorants have mostly left their poop-spattered aviary of half-dead trees at the north end of the lake and headed back home, presumably to defecate in alarmingly large quantities there as well. The odor of half-digested fish is slowly leaving the lake breeze. Someone spotted a bald eagle near the spillway a few days ago, and everyone’s abuzz. Testing out the new spring sun, glistening turtles slipped off mossy logs into the water as I passed. Early spring, and everything is coming and going.
The first two weeks of my build-up for fall have gone well. Strength training at the gym three days a week again; surprisingly easy to fall back into that routine. The 12.5 mile run on Saturday felt a little more bonky in the last two miles than I had hoped for, but it was the first double-digit run since December 13 or so. And the first energy gel of the year: lime-flavored, that familiar sweet and sour taste of my favorite gels. I’m going Gatorade-free this year, something new. Also carried a water bottle on Saturday for the first time since December. And I’ve ordered a pair of these to try out on my next cross-country run, just to see what happens.
Old habits, new wrinkles, a blend of the familiar and new. Sitting is still sitting, although by the end of June I will have attended more sesshins and zazenkais than in all of 2009. And I’m monitoring zazen on Thursday nights at a local church, a first for me. I’ve always been content to (literally) sit on the sidelines because I didn’t want my sitting to be interrupted, but of course monitoring — timing the sitting for everyone, and leading the chants at the end — is practice too. Everything is practice, grist for the mindful mill.
The optimism I hear in the exuberant mixtapes of the Mockingbird improvising by our front porch is palpable and inspiring. Getting an education from the birds again … it’s early days, but I feel I’ve already recaptured some of my beginner’s mind this spring.
If you have not read Kaye Gibbons, then that is my gift to you. If you have read her, it is still my gift to you.
Sarah(workingonthings)
I haven’t read her, Sarah, but thank you for gifting me. I’ll check her out.
My favourite is mountain rush.
Mountain Rush is lime, I think — isn’t it? But now that I think about it, my real favorite is Vanilla Strawberry Slam.