Friday, April 24, 2009


3am.I awake in a pool of sweat, unable to swallow. Do I go into work? Mom and her 30 years of nursing look down my throat with a flashlight. Swollen. No white patches. Into work. No lunch break.

4pm. It's sunny. 68 degrees. I'm itching to get outside. The sore throat has turned into drainage and sneezing.

5:30pm. Home. Arguing via text about whether to throw His things in the dumpster or give them to Goodwill. I change into shorts, bike cleats. Strap on my helmet. Suspend the conversation. 75 mins on the bike to clear my mind. 75 mins to be out on the road, away from the chaos. 75 mins to not engage in argument. 75 mins to not worry about a thing. 75 mins to breath the fresh air. And the middle 25 were focused. Intervals. Those are 25 minutes for me to be in control, to be strong, to dig deep.

7pm. Back home. Check the phone. Respond. Laugh at myself. And Him. We're both crazy. Take off the cleats, slip on the runners. Re-apply Body Glide. Ditch the sunglasses. Dig out the iPod. Grab a few jelly beans. Out for a 45 min run. Push the hills, relax all else. I charge the hills, minutes 6 to 13. At the top, I relax. Easy. I sing along with the music blaring in my ears. Sing out loud. 25 mins in and I feel as though I could run forever.

8pm. Walking the pup. Talking training with the neighbor. Texting with Him. I know I'm crazy. I'm also a little a excited.

8:45pm. Showered and fed. He arrives. It's been over a month since I've seen Him. I get a kiss on the cheek, gifts from SA, conversation and stories. I'm given compliments, niceties. He tells me I seem different - relaxed, but fun, comfortable with myself. I know I'm just detached. We laugh. We eat pop-tarts. He watches the muscles in my legs as I crack my ankles. He holds me close. I keep from getting too close. We stay up past midnight. And I fall asleep in his arms.

5am. The alarm sounds. We both hit snooze. I get up and make "the best coffee in the world". He still doesn't put the peanut butter jar away when he's finished. We swim a few grand at Mercy. He resists criticizing my stroke. He lets me swim my prescribed pull set. He joins in for my 8x50. He's quiet on drive home. Tired. I ask questions. I'm granted honesty.

8am. He breaks the news He was hired for a coaching job in FL. I make breakfast. Get ready for work. Brew Him more coffee. Help him construct an email. It's like nothing changed, but it's all so different. He smacks my ass. He tells me I look cute. He likes my hair. He leaves me with a few things of his. HE APOLOGIZES. He hugs me in the parking lot. Doesn't want to let go. He whimpers. We each drive away not knowing when we'll meet again. Unclear of our status. But I feel safer than I have in weeks.

4:30pm. Sitting in my cubicle. 80 degrees outside. List of food and gear in hand. Going home to do laundry. Have to pack my bags, my car. Big training weekend at Shawnee in preparation for TTT. He dropped out a few weeks back. Had only signed up to impress me. I don't know anything about where this path may lead, but this is my path. And He is on His. And that's exactly how it's supposed to be.


Judi said...

you are so damn crazy.

p.s. you have a marathon to run in a week and 2 days. do you taper at all next week?

Eileen Swanson said...

The greatest thing about life is not knowing where our paths may take us, but making sure to have a great time along the way ;-) You sound HAPPY ;-))