Last week I started a blog post about my favorite indoor workouts. I haven’t finished it yet. It’s long. I didn’t mean for it to be, it just became long as I was writing it, because I tend to overwrite, and also sometimes I write super long sentences that could easily be broken up into several smaller sentences but it’s fun to draw them out without an end in sight and I do it because writing can be whatever you want it to be.
This morning’s Ted Corbitt 15K in Central Park could not have gone any better. With the exception of a couple very minor hiccups in my METICULOUSLY PLANNED PLANS, everything went well.
Heads up: this will be a long post and I took a LOT of pictures. Settle in. Grab a snack. Hell, grab dinner. We’re gonna be here a while.
LOOK AT THIS FRONT-FACING CAMERA!
We threw my mom a party yesterday. Not a wake, not a funeral. A celebration of life. A party. That’s actually how I entered it on my google calendar: “Mom’s Party. Noon to 3pm.” A gathering of friends and family. Talking, laughing, reminiscing, drinking, eating. Vegan food only, as per her wishes. A ton of it too, from local restaurants Batata Cafe and Purple Elephant. (I highly recommend both.)
I just did a li’l old 3.18 mile run this morning. I overslept and got up at 6:15. SO LATE. I only had time for a shorty. Wait, can I use “shorty” to mean “short run?” I guess I just did.
I thought my post-run picture would be of my new leggings. The brand is Moret Ultra, a company that is not paying me to write this. I’m used to plain old boring running tights, and the three pairs I bought over the weekend have cool little designs on them. Simple designs, though. Nothing crazy. I am a very plain dresser. I hate patterns and do not own any clothing with patterns. They make me dizzy. So for me, this is really LIVING IT UP.
This post is about my mother.
My long runs are usually Sundays. Today is Saturday, but I very badly needed a long run this morning. Having someone you love die, it turns out, is stressful. I wanted to go 10 miles. Maybe more. It was 30 degrees out. Good.
This blog is supposed to be about running. It is not supposed to be about the death of my mother. But ever since I began writing on here, I knew this day would come.
I moved from L.A. to Long Island last December because my mother had been diagnosed with cancer a week before Thanksgiving and we were told she wouldn’t be able to drive for two, maybe three, months while she was undergoing treatment. So I thought I would move in with her and do her errands for a little while.