Friday after a long week....

Hot Cocoa -- except I want the hot and not the cocoa. Or maybe I don't want the hot at all? Maybe I want the warmth... the comfort of hot cocoa on a cold and blustry day. Because the voices in my head are pretty clear. They do not want sugar and they do not want chocolate. My stomach and my tongue win.... but my inner eye still sees snowflakes and red cheeks and hot cocoa. Such is the falibility of appetite.
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Making a conscious choice to let go...
I had a blast last year at the WACO 1.0. And I had a come-to-jesus moment so powerful that it rocked me to the core of everything I am. And I really wanted to go back there, because it's beautiful and very different from the other trails we run. But the truth is, that going there and pushing through the 10 miles will not make me a trail runner any more than staying here, driving the 1.5 miles to my home course, running the number of miles/minutes I should be running (and getting to take the dogs) and not using a tank of gas and a whole day to do it.
I value my friends in the Ultra community so dearly that there is a voice reminding me that I will not see them if I don't go. But Ihave to be satisfied with how much I have been able to see them lately and do the grown up, rational and flexible thing. And actually, I'm really OK with that -- now that I've gotten it out into the world.
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The other things I get to do include "not rushing." The voice says I can slowly get the things done that I really want to accomplish.I don't have to sweat. I don't have to be tired. And I don't have to stay focused... I can daydream. Or watch T.V. Or not. And it will be OK.
It's funny, but the things I want to accomplish have nothing to do with the rest of the world or anyone else's sense of accomplishment -- but I want to wash the drapes, vacuum, refold my clothes, polish the leather furniture, cook, straighten out my cubboards and wash my 'fridge. And I don't want to feel like these things are chores -- but rather luxuries that will allow my to find peace, center, and eventually even joy.
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Perhaps on Sunday I can ride my bike.
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I miss Roberto. And eating by candle light. And feeling like I can handle physical things like construction.
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Maybe I'm chunking too big?
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There is a difference between critical and negative.
My sister can't stand negative... I always feel like maybe I am... but then I realized, I'm probably more critical than anything... Negative I can deal with -- 'cause it's not me. Critical is like a mirror held up in my face. It says "look, this is who you really are. This is what you're really like. And it's not a good feeling at all."