J'Espere

Okay, so I have a situation. Maybe minor, maybe not so minor. It all begins with the City of Oaks Half Marathon. A couple of weeks ago, I ran my first half-marathon. It was great. But the day before, when I removed my toenail polish, i realized that my second toe was completely blue and black. Yikes. In a panic I went to Doc in A Box- an emergency place located down the street from my house. And I spent $200 for the doctor on call to tell me there wasn't anything that could be done, that the nail would probably grow out, yada, yada, yada. So I went home, ran the half marathon and bought a new pair of shoes to begin training for my first full marathon. This is where it gets a little hairy. One subungual hematoma can be caused by just about anything- dropping something on your toe, trauma, whatever. But I noticed that the second toe of my left foot now has the exact same issue. And the craziest part? They no longer hurt. Which actually worries me more than it would if they did hurt.

Last night I told my final story for storytelling class. It was a personal narrative, which may or may not have been a good idea (yet to be determined). It was about love, and tryst, and getting pulled for the first time. And everyone laughed at the right times, and everyone was sad at the right times, but it felt like I was reliving a high school weekend. I think that what I didn't consider before was what it would be like sharing something so personal that I had not really shared with that many people before. I didn't think about the implications or exposing yourself to people. Not that it was bad, but I haven't felt that vulnerable in a while. It is a very funny story, and one that has a lot of heart and warmth in it, but it is also the story of a love gone terribly awry and mistakes that I made at 17 I don't think I would make now. People enjoy my stories because they're so ridiculous. I have to say what's strange is how true they are. How I rarely have to

Delightful, calm, kind, loving, slightly destructive, finicky, determined. I can think of a thousand different ways to describe her. She wasn't even supposed to be mine. When she was born in a litter of six or seven, she was slated to go to another little girl. I had selected another kitten- DC (after That Darn Cat). Then the little girl who picked her found out she was allergic. Then she contracted a terrible wolf worm. Then she ended up staying. D.C. disappeared after about a year, but Prissy stuck around. The name was selected on the way to the vet as my mother determined it would have to be done before walking in the waiting room. The fact that there was a giant hole in her neck did not bother her as much as the idea of an unnamed pet. Prissy was outside the first couple of years. Then, when we moved, another cat moved onto our farm. He wouldn't let her eat, so my parents started letting her in to eat. Soon she was sleeping on my bed. I have not had another cat since that

So, the best part of finishing my first half-marathon on Sunday? That I crossed very soon after the marathon winner and had tons of people cheering for him, and by proxy, me. It was a gorgeous day and a gorgeous route. Made me think of high school and how much I enjoyed hanging out in downtown Raleigh and around Hillsborough Street. I can't believe that it's been eight years since I lived there- that is a crazy concept to me. Best parts? I smiled almost the whole way, felt my body working with me instead of against me, and got to eat whatever I wanted leading up to the race. And Waffle House afterwards- not pancakes, but somewhat close. Worst parts? The pain, oh the pain. I've decided to definitely put some focus back into yoga and see what comes of it. Oh, and the part where I thought we had been running all morning but were only at the six mile marker. Mainly I'm just so happy I did it. I feel like it was one of the most cathartic things I have done in ages and it