Friday Ramble 02/19/21

Icy runs, gratitude, farm shares, and crossword puzzles.

Each week, the Friday Ramble offers a training snapshot along with whatever else is going on in my brain: This week’s theme is gratitude. 

The runs have been uneven lately. There’s too much snow and way too much ice to make any kind of headway in training. The schedule has been shuffled and rejiggered to the point where I’m really not sure what I’ll be doing from one day to the next. Even if I wanted to find a consistent groove, which I desperately do, it would be impossible given the meteorological variables of mid-February weather in New England.  

Still, there’s runs to be had and I’m trying to fit them in where I can. A few miles here, a bunch of miles there when it makes sense. They may be slow as hell, like the 5-miler that took 80 minutes after some genius forgot his spikes and wound up tiptoeing over sheets of solid ice, but they’re something. Forget maintaining, I’m reminding myself that just getting out there really is good enough. 

In looking back over the last few weeks of Rambles, I’ve noticed a pattern emerge. One week I’m down in the depths, and the next I’m soaring back among the spirits with energy renewed and purpose clear. And then the cycle repeats itself over and over. It takes so much effort to pull out of a downward spiral, but it takes so much more to keep a consistent focus over days and weeks and even months. 

I feel like it used to be easier. It had to be, right? 

I’m tired of the roller coaster, as I’m sure a lot of you are too. In my latest attempt to make peace with circumstances and focus on what I can control, I’m making an extra effort to be grateful for the things that are going right, such as having food, shelter, and a loving family around me. Even though I absolutely take those things for granted on a daily basis, I’m trying each day to express gratitude for their existence. 

One way to show that gratitude is to help others in need. If you can make a donation during this brutal winter to folks in Texas or anywhere else that needs assistance, now is an excellent time to do so. (I donated to the Houston Food Bank earlier this morning.)

Another thing I can do is run. Not as much as I’d like to, or in the manner I most enjoy (i.e. not in an outdoor ice skating rink), but my body is able and my spirit is still strong. I say that with all due respect because I’ve heard from a number of RP readers who are not able to run right now, whether because of physical injury or mental setbacks or a combination of both. My heart goes out to all of you. 

One of them is Devin Kelly, who you may remember from an essay we Iinked to in late December. Devin’s latest piece is called Repetitive Stress and I’d encourage everyone to set aside some time and read it in full. It’s a tough read, but beautiful and eloquent. This graf, in particular, shook me: 

For my whole life, running served as my way to relieve myself of the stress of living in this world, a world that made me feel like not enough — or too much — at all times, a world that kept me in the in-between of who I was and who I thought I needed to be. I ran to feel in control of a life that sometimes never felt like my own. I ran to bring my parents back together. I ran to show my brother I loved him when there were years we hardly said a word to one another. I ran to lose weight when the world made me feel fat. I ran to feel loved. I ran to tell others that I wanted to be loved. I ran so far. I ran so fucking far. I have run around the world. And for what, for what, for what? Now, after all that running, I’m still here. And I cannot run at all. Where is the place for that in this world? Is there a word for being scared of the fact that you can no longer do what you do when you’re scared, and yet, you’re still scared all of the time?

Damn, I don’t know. I wish I did, but I just don’t. It’s a recurring nightmare that wakes me up from a deep sleep and haunts my days. What if I can’t do this anymore, not because of bad weather or time commitments or life stuff, but because my body won’t allow it. Given the way I run, and my own structural imbalances, I know that day is coming for me eventually. 

If it’s any solace to Devin, his words provided some much-needed perspective for me and maybe they will for you too. Within that perspective is the capacity for hope and that’s what I’m trying to keep in mind these days. The difference between now and a month or so ago, is I’m not chasing hope. I’m simply making room for it to happen on its own.  

The other day, on that icy “run,” I came across a little patch of dirt where the snow had melted in the sun. I put my foot down in the patch and let my shoe sink in the mud until I felt the familiar squish of spring. It was good to be reminded that the trail is still there, buried under an inch or two of ice and as you read this, several more inches of snow that were dumped on us overnight. 

It felt, for just that second, like it was alive. I won’t take that for granted. 

Farm share shoutout

The last people we had over to our house before the pandemic hit were our friends Brian and Caroleen. (Hi guys.) They’re one of our favorite couples and not just because we had a hand in bringing them together. (Our one successful attempt at matchmaking!) We also love them because we sublet their farm share from Siena Farms in Sudbury, Mass. 

They had been getting deliveries every two weeks, and folks, that’s a lot of turnips. The arrangement works out perfectly. Once a month we have a box delivered to our front door packed to the brim with all kinds of goodies. There’s multi-colored carrots and bodacious beets and varieties of veggies we’ve never seen before. 

The fun part is figuring out what to do with the bounty. Celeriac makes a fine soup, it turns out. The farm share pulls us out of cooking ruts and allows us to broaden our culinary horizons. It can make even the most normal meal come alive with bright colors and interesting flavors. Take, for example, the humble crab cake dressed in fresh microgreens and sriracha aioli with cookie sheet cabbage, roasted carrots, and broccoli on the side.

CSA’s often have seasonal signup windows, so if you’ve been thinking about going this route now is a perfect time to get on it. 

A fun way to pass the time: Crossword puzzles 

My wife and I have been together for 15 years. In all that time we had never once done a crossword puzzle together. That was true until a few weeks back when she declared her intention to work on the puzzle in New York mag. 

One of the reasons our relationship works as well as it does is that we have a completely different range of interests. It’s almost comical how little overlap we have, whether it’s music or movies or other cultural touchstones. That dynamic is ideal, however, for working through crossword puzzles. 

After starting the puzzle, she left the page open on the counter and I took that as an invitation to fill in a few answers. We work on it separately while our kid does Zoom school and then we set aside some time to work on it together after dinner. By the way, anyone have a 14-letter word for: Breakfast pastry enjoyed on an African river? 

In addition to giving us a common purpose and something to talk about, the crossword puzzle also provides an analog respite from continuous digital interaction. Of all the things I’m eager to leave behind from the past year, this is one I hope we’ll continue in the future.

How about you guys: How’s the running been for you lately, any pandemic distractions that help you pass the time?