Burning Man. California Trip. Rio del Lago 100 Miler. Another two races I ran poorly in. When will my running pick up again? My apartment’s a mess. My cat’s eating my plants. I have to kiss more ass at work. I have to think about strategy more. I have a mountain of dishes to wash. I have to spend more time with my grandma and my family. My sister is pregnant and far and I can’t even get to help her that much. I’m scared of my bank account. My Macy’s bill is overdue. I have a really long to-do list. I am trying not to think of all that is overwhelming.
But sometimes I get in these periods of decompressing. And I pull in closer to myself. I pull away. I spend days at cafés, in bed surrounded by fuzzy blankets and a good cat, writing, editing, making my manifesto. Baking, cooking. Food will heal.
Jenny and I swore we would change the world. That’s what we were gonna do. Sixteen with those smiles, we were confident we’d make a difference. And now, we sit, chopsticks in our hands, and think, “What have we done? What’s next? Will we accomplish all that we wanted to?”
And I wonder, will we?