The Suite Life

Being kicked out of one's home for an indefinite period of time, for lack of better words, sucks. For me, it's more about homesickness than anything. At the end of a long day at work, I'm looking forward to coming home and relaxing in my own home. Knowing that I can't, that I'll be living out of a suitcase, almost like a vacation, but nothing like a vacation at the same time, upsets me. I seem to be stressed, although I don't feel stressed. I noticed this morning that I've been clenching my jaw for about 3 days straight. While I feel at ease (at as much ease as one can be while being displaced from their home), my subconscious seems stressed beyond belief. I've woken up the past 3 mornings, jaw clenched tightly, with a terrible headache. I wish my subconscious would catch up with my conscious, unstressed, laid back. And soon. Before my conscious, unstressed, laid back self catches up with my stressed beyond belief subconscious.

At the moment, we are staying with one of Kurt's friends from softball. He and his wife and their 3 kids live about 5 minutes from our apartment, in a rural area populated by more horses than people. They have an in-law's suite they have graciously let us use until we move in with my friends on Monday. (PS - I'm not sure either couple will ever realize just how grateful we are). While I can't wait to get back into my home, it's a pretty nice set-up. On Monday, my office was closed due to flooding and power outages, so I was stuck at The Suite. If you know me at all, you'll know that I HATE relying on other people or mooching off them in any way. I don't like the feeling that I owe someone, or that I'm a burden. (I do, however, know there is a time and place to ask for help. And that time and place is now and here.) I had to get out of The Suite for fear of turning into That Girl That Hangs Around Our House But Doesn't Live Here. So I went for a run.

A few weeks back, I signed up for a half-marathon with a friend from work, which has resulted in all of my money going to running shorts, running pants, running shirts, sports bras, and (next up!) power gel and a hydration belt (for those extra long runs), and Kurt complaining about my new found dedication to running four days a week. I've been pretty good about training. I ran the Broad Street Run in the Spring without power gel, and without proper training. And almost didn't make it. I am extremely competitive, especially with myself, so there was no way in Hell I was going to stop and walk. I ran the whole ten miles, but I swear on all that is Holy, I almost passed out. At mile 2. (No I'm just kidding. Mile 2 was a breeze. Mile 7 was the point where my legs turned to lead, and my face turned that horrible white/red splotchy color. So attractive). Whoever tells you if you can run 10 miles, you can run a half-marathon is lying to you. In fact, I want to pinch those people. Really hard. I JUST made it to the finish line, and at that point, my body was so dehydrated and weak that it kept going only because running instead of walking meant I'd get to the soft pretzels and bananas that much faster. There's no way I could've made it to 13.1.

Considering the amount of storms and weekend vacations we've had, my training hasn't suffered too badly. I've been running 3-4 days a week, with one long run per week. Monday, with the need to get out of the house, I went for an 8 mile run in my new neon orange shirt (I had to run on the street, so you know, Safety First!) I can honestly say, I don't think I've ever enjoyed a run so much. Given the ridiculous distance, that's saying something. I usually run in the park in town. It's a beautiful park, with a mile-long track surrounding a field with some trees, but I've been running there for 5 years. After that long, the scenery becomes a little boring (unless that scenery is a giant buck running through the field at a full sprint, which apparently I missed because I was so into my run). This run was so scenic, I got distracted every few minutes and I had to remind myself to breathe evenly. I even stopped a couple times for a few seconds to take pictures. I couldn't resist! (if you're picturing me running with a huge Canon camera, stop giggling, right now. I run with my iPhone, which has a better camera than my camera).

I saw a HUGE snapping turtle crossing the road and quickly snapped a

picture of him before he snapped my arm off. Farms, corn fields, and horses went for as far as the eye could see. Besides a few cars not giving me a wide berth (thanks for that!), and the rustic smell of horse manure permeating my nostrils as I ran (not fast enough) past farms, it was a perfect run.

I felt strangely at peace. It's one of the reasons I love to run. I can relax, focus on my breathing, and let everything go. But this was even better than usual. I wish every run could be that peaceful and that breathtaking. It was the perfect way to spend that morning, with the bluest sky and the greenest fields pushing away all thoughts of floods and suitcases. And now, I share that perfect run on that perfect day with you in the hopes that you find some peace in these pictures. Enjoy.