Grateful Project No. 8

Sometimes luck has a way of falling on your lap without warning, just like that. The knee jerk reaction would be to involuntarily jerk a knee of course, open your mouth in disbelief, and then slowly curl it up into a smile, a really big smile. A few days ago, I did just that. I had recently expressed my thoughts on starting to run, for the sake of my health.  I am not a sporty person, and had never once taken an interest in signing up for any gym or exercise club. But after my close brush with the grim reaper late last year, I've decided to take control of my life and turn it around to something more physically beneficial. 

Then there is the slight angle of vanity, which any self-respecting woman would probably understand, especially if nothing she owns seems to look or feel right on her anymore. She either must surrender to the higher powers of obesity and resign to wearing baggy clothes, or just darn do something about it.   

So, like manna from heaven, my husband gifted me with these beautiful running shoes on Mother's Day. I know that Oliver has got the proverbial good provider quality down pat. Yet  I've got to acknowledge the fact that we are not the kind to splurge on things that seem to be beyond our means. Simply put, we are misers. That's because we believe that a stuffed cupboard is better than empty stomachs in expensive garbs. Or something like that--I know how shite my metaphors can get. But that's my idea of a good provider anyway. So imagine my surprise when I got these. If I hadn't had blisters on my feet, I would have broken in on them at once and made a mad dash to the door and sprinted my way to a trail nearby. And then the rain decided to be a drama queen, too. So I had to wait for a few more days. 

I would like to shout out  a  big thank you to my husband who believes in my capabilities as a woman, who goes the extra mile, who opens up avenues for me, in big or small ways, so that I can enjoy the many aspects of my life---as a mother, blogger, photography enthusiast, and now a social runner--or better put, a health advocate.

Today, I am starting a new chapter in life. I am getting outside!

Big Four-O

Celebrating birthdays every year is gradually turning out to be an oxymoron. How I’d reflect on my 40th birthday, in a nutshell --is bittersweet. Bitter as I get to concede with the fact that some things are inevitable—our   ostensible photo aging, the aggravation of illnesses that seem to plague our bodies at an age when it is touted to be just the beginning of life, my significantly diminished value in the workforce, let alone in the social front.  Life can be fair and square, eh?

And yet, it progressively becomes sweet--- to realize that in every birthday, indeed there is a life---breathing, moving, talking life, where one gets to be the phoenix that burns and rises out from the ashes to start anew. It may not be that obvious to others who consciously try to curb their fascination in foolish things--- but for this day alone, I will gladly suffer the fool that I am.

photo by Gab

So, what is it like to be forty? Oh man, like any other day. I walk to work, sweat under the same unbelievably hot sun like everyone else, grounded in the fact that I am no better than the next person, except perhaps that I have mellowed, that I have a constant song in my head, that I have 360 degrees of happiness around me—that I know I only have to find that little unique indentation on Mother Earth’s crust and dig deeper and deeper so that I can create my own master work of art, that is my life.

At forty, I’d like to learn many things---to play the guitar and channel my inner Mitchell, which my son will probably scoff at, seeing that I am a little late in the game. But why the heck not? I’d like to finally take that driving thing off my shoulder and get my driver’s license. At forty, I know. And because a friend was aghast that I’ve never had a facial in my life, I’d most possibly consider that one, too.  Then I need to get my pair of runners, and scamper off to better health if I had to.  Wax a record, or maybe just get a youtube account and sing my heart out.  Cook my very own cabbage rolls. Learn to use makeup. Get a Lasik. Dress better. Laugh more.  Love more….. 

PS: What I got for my birthday:

a little serenade from my son

love notes from gab and sophia

from true blue artzooka fans, these recycled cards are worth millions for me.