Talking Trauma

Written by on August 30, 2009
August 30, 2009
 
When a person has been through a traumatic experience, it takes awhile before he or she is ready to talk about it. Hence the silence regarding my half marathon.
 
Two weeks ago I rode a bus at 5 am to Point Loma where I disembarked and hung out while the other eight thousand four hundred people were also bussed up there in the dim light of the sun rising. It might have been beautiful, but we were so packed, like San Diego sardines, that I was too busy wondering at the trust people exhibited, sitting on blacktop doing the pretzel while people milled around them. My faith in humanity was renewed as I saw not one person step on or trip over these trusting souls. But, I completely missed the view.
 
Oh, and I was busy trying to figure out who I might be able to beat. But those of you who have done this sort of race know, it’s hard to tell. Everyone worried me.
 
Of course, I wasn’t competing, NO! I was running to be able to say that I completed a half-marathon. In record time, for me.
 
Except I had already completed a half-marathon. Granted, it was was 25 years ago, another lifetime ago, but still. So, while waiting for dawn to break and the starting gun to go off, and that obnoxious man with the bull horn to stop reminding me to pre-hydrate, I wondered what exactly I was doing there.
 
Every time I looked at my shoe, with the paper with my name, age and sex on it, staring me in the face (the claim is that this is how they track your time but I’m convinced this is how they identify the body) and the number 43 laughed at me (not my name or my sex), I wondered what exactly I was doing there.
 
The fact that my friend talked me into it had something to do with it. She convinced me we weren’t worried about our times, just finishing. When we practiced together, she even stopped early, claiming her knee hurt, tricking me into thinking I needn’t worry.
 
Then at mile eleven, she ditched me. Maybe because I waved her on, being the good friend that I was. I kept thinking –  okay hoping - that her knee was going to start to hurt and I would catch her before the finish line. But I didn’t. She’s so … what’s that word that starts with a B … better at uphills than I.
 
Then I got to the finish line and collected my medal, one of eight thousand four hundred passed out, and looked for my friend. I found her and asked her time.
 
She beat me by three minutes. THREE minutes in two miles. I consoled myself, looking back at me shoe to remind myself of my age. swinging my medal around victoriously, not at all aiming for my friend and felt totally … what’s that word that starts with a F …. finished.
 
This week I will wear my accomplishments proudly, like a headband with the medal in the middle of my forehead!

Categories: Weekly Affirmation

Unexpected Jaguar Features

Written by on August 23, 2009
 
August 23, 2009
 
The really cool thing about a new car, is getting to know the car. Playing with all the knobs and handles and buttons to see what they do.The jag has some cool features, like a memory button for my preferred seating arrangement. I push a button and the seat adjusts back to my saved settings automatically. There’s also a button I can push which tells me how many miles I can go before I have to call AAA to let them know I ran out of gas.
 
The unexpected feature is the accident magnet the car comes with. Everyone and their neighbor tried to run into me this week.
 
On Monday I drove the jag to Orange County. There were four, yes, I counted, questionable lane changes right in front of me. Each time I yelled, “Whoa, take it easy!” while using the brakes judiciously so the car behind me didn’t ram me but I still had enough space to cushon the blow I was sure was about to happen. Luckily none of them did.
 
Then when I got to the parking garage, a car backed up toward me even though I was tooting, yes – tooting – it was the Orange County Jail Parking garage and you never know who may be backing up into you so you toot, you don’t honk, never honk, trust me – the horn. Finally I parked.
 
When I was leaving the parking garage, another two cars decided to back up into me. I began to think that invisibility was one of the jag’s features. Or perhaps the horn could only be heard by me? I wasn’t sure, but I keep tooting, even backing up a bit myself.
 
On my way onto the freeway a nice looking work truck towing a trailer carrying a nice looking corvette decided it had way more speed than I would ever have in a jag, pulled in front of me twice, both while I was atttempting to accerelate around the truck-and-trailer-with-corvette train.
 
Once I got back to my home town, another nice looking car decided to change lanes into me, even though I was there, tooting away. (In my hometown… yes, you still toot!)
 
I went into the pool supply store and the owner commented on what a great car I was driving. He knew more about the features than me.
 
“Have you tried the Sports setting for acceleration?”
 
“No.” I must have looked a bit dismayed.
 
“You do like the car?”
 
I stared at him.
 
“It’s a great car.”
 
Finally, I broke down. “I’m exhausted. It seems everyone wants to run into me.”
 
“Oh, that’s the accident magnet. Everyone sees a jag and begins to drive crazy around you. They figure you must have great insurance. Be careful.”
 
On my way home, I took side streets and kept my hand on the horn.
 
This week I will remember that usually you get more than you bargain for…

Categories: Uncategorized

Our New-to-Us Car

Written by on August 17, 2009
 
August 16, 2009
 
So we did it; we bought a new car, well, new to us.
 
It’s a 2006 Jaguar. How’s that for jumping from a useful 1985 Ford Ranger and economical 2005 Honda Civic to the big times?
 
The car is beautiful. I fell in love with it while test-driving options when we were deciding to turn in our clunker for some cash. I love the tiger-eye paneling on the dashboard and the leather interior, the dual control air conditioning and the moon roof, the tinted windows and the built-in garage door opener. Plus, it looks good and it’s all about looking good.
 
But I did not fall out of love with my economical Honda Civic or with my useful Ford Ranger. In reality, I just couldn’t part with either of these cars because of my appreciation of all they do in my life. So we kept them.
 
So, there are five cars in a household with three licensed drivers.
 
There is a house down the street we thought about purchasing before we bought the one we eventually did buy. We were dissuaded from the other house because the neighbor’s yard “looked like a used car lot”. We were told “it would diminish our home’s value”.
 
Now I’m wondering if having a used car lot in your own yard diminishes your home’s value or makes others think you’re rich because you can afford so many cars.
 
Or stupid because who needs five cars when there are only three drivers in the family? I know, the family with four televisions when there are only three viewers. You never know when you might want to finish watching that show in another room!
 
This week I will appreciate something old, something new, something borrowed, a jag that’s grey!

Categories: Uncategorized

Cash for Clunkers

Written by on August 10, 2009
 
August 10, 2009
 
This week we decided it was time to turn in our faithful 1885 Ford Ranger for a new vehicle.
 
The allure of $4500 put us over the edge because we have been rather fond of our truck.
 
It is perfect for taking the dogs for a run. We ran a cord along the back with hooks. The dogs jump up and we hook them up to drive them to our favorite trails.
 
It’s great for those odd jobs around the house. Yes, we do have another truck with leather interior and a lift kit and you should hear my husband scream if it looks like you might just scratch the paint job with that piece of lumber. No worries with the Ranger which happily accepts all manner of wear and tear, like a favorite pair of worn jeans.
 
Finally, the Ranger is great for those trips to Swap meets, garage sales and other times you want to wheel and deal. No one would suspect we could afford any more than we were offering with one look at our wheels.
 
But $4500 put betrayal in our hearts. We dreamed of a radio that worked without static. We dreamed of air conditioning. We dreamed of not breaking down every few weeks. We began searching for a new car.
 
I looked at cars with better gas mileage. The Ranger gets 22 miles to a gallon. My car search narrowed  because few new cars get better gas mileage. We also found out that we would not get $4500 for the Ranger, but only $3500 because it got such good gas mileage.
 
Next we looked for a car with so many uses. I wondered how I would get my plants home from the nursery. I wondered how we would take the dogs to our favorite trails. I wondered if a 2x4x10 would fit in the car even if I laid down the seats and opened the passenger window.
 
We did test drive several cars and fixed the Ranger for $400 in the process.
 
By Friday, we’d decided that no amount of money would or could replace the Ranger and it sits proudly in our driveway, dripping oil on the old piece of carpet laid out just for it, waiting patiently for us to load the dogs and take them for a run, and Sunday it brought home a load of plants, planter mix and potting soil from the nursery.
 
It just goes to show, I suppose, that not even the allure of cash can change the heart of a woman in love with usefulness.
 
This week I will appreciate the things money can’t buy, like the no worries of an old Ford Ranger.

Categories: Uncategorized