Running Commentary: 1
June 10, 2012

     Laura is a terrific educator. Her dedication to teaching causes me to wish I had a son or daughter sitting in her classroom. Of course, mine are long gone, having marched through a public school system, many years before the time spent in school buildings was given over to the mundaneness of measuring what's learned by drilling into kids the answers to standardized tests. I think of Laura as a 'Kick-Ass' teacher. Full of creativity, dedication, and hard work. It's only the mean rules of bureaucracy holding back the implementation of her great teaching skills. The losers: the students.

     This is only a fractional element of the Laura I've come to know, and this is the beauty of a running partner. Running provides the freedom to talk--to share--to listen--and often, not remember a damn thing the other person has said. From here on, though, I'm going to try and remember the topics touched and share with you. Your feedback is welcomed.

     First, I'm just thankful Laura will run with me, as she is 32 years my junior. My running group trickled away over the years, mainly succumbing to bad knees and a preference for late afternoon wine. "Run by yourself," you say. Well, you try making it up a steep hill all alone in 100 degree Texas heat, with equally high humidity. Can only be done with a Laura behind you yelling, "Iron Will! Iron Will!" These words, of course are what got the young, Will Stoneman, through the fierceness of the 1917 Iditarod.

     I'll admit it. I am a competitive person--but, only with myself. However, I am not the braggy kind. Though, I don't mind telling people my running partner, now, is the daughter-in-law of my former, long-time, running partner. In all fairness, she dropped out due to a debilitating illness; not knees or wine.

     Second, I like to believe, given the age difference, Laura and I have lessons to teach each other and lessons to learn. We represent different generations. Although there are no distinct, agreed upon, definitional boundaries, Laura seems to be a Generation Xer; I am a Silent Generation baby.

     So, what did we talk about Sunday morning? I was the babbler, verbally pushing Laura out of the way. I'd just come back from a visit with my 84 year-old aunt in Oklahoma, filled with tales of the increasing dangers of driving IH35 between Austin and Dallas. Highway 75, and then 69 into Tulsa, is no picnic. Trying to stake out the right to be on the road with all the semi-tractors is highway madness.

     Laura and I brushed by the dangers of keeping family secrets. Out of the blue, I told Laura about my grandfather missing a curve on a lonesome road and running into a tree, dying instantly. No one saw the accident. He was alone. I've always thought he killed himself. Did you know my uncle, his son, was murdered? He was the only son and eldest to four sisters. Two of these sisters died of Alzheimer's. My mother, one of the four girls, did not. It was the baby sister, the survivor, I'd made the trip to visit. Their mother, my maternal grandmother, was known as a healer. People knocked on her door, late at night, for help. The family said she had 'the 6th sense.' She told my mother I did, too, but my mother was told to discourage the ability. I then told Laura, my younger sister, when she was about three years old, drew a very accurate picture of a naked man, showed it to my grandmother, who tore the drawing into pieces. I then stopped the ramble and told Laura that I didn't know why I'd blurted out all these stories.. I'd never shared them with anyone before. Twenty minutes down. Time for a a quick water break.

     Talk slid along into the importance of maintaining friendships in different age groups; school being out and what Laura's two grade-schooler's and one junior-higher would do during the summer; how to lose weight; how to keep from gaining weight; Laura considering a goal of training for a marathon--eventually; cultural differences between small towns and cities; and, our old stand-by, what exactly was pop culture. We settled this week on a distinction of the battle between the Kardashians and the Shakespearians. Or, we supposed, some people, paying attention to these things, would say, the battle has been won. There is no difference. Mass media has total control of the minds of the masses and dictates thought.

     Before we finished the 2nd twenty minutes of running, the question of why people have headaches was brought out for Sunday morning examination. Laura's explanation--we American's focus too much on ourselves--what's on the inside--our inner space. We spend too much time on 'I' and 'Me.' It's dark in there, stress filled, mucking around in that inner space. Gotta get the self out into the light.

     Laura decided on a repeat loop for the final twenty minutes. We paid more attention to the neighborhood. Any new houses on the market? What freshly planted bushes and flowers had the deer eaten during the week. What oaks needed trimming and saying 'Hi' to neighbors. That was it. Run finished; a final drink. I felt good and at peace. "See ya Wednesday!"