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A three-day- old snow was almost gone on the ground. I left my apartment for my appointment in a fresh crystallized ice falling from the sky. It was one of those chilly morning despite layers of warm sweaters and fleece shirts, you felt that wasn't enough.
When I exited the Park Street subway station headed toward JFK building, the wind whipped strong, spinning the snow flakes in the air before they landed on the ground. I pulled the scarf to cover my mouth, head slightly bent down, and walked toward the coming snow to my appointment site.
Three hours later I stood outside the gray building and watched the falling snow. The temperature had dropped slightly than before I entered the building. I had a gym bag with me and leaned onto a huge marble pillar trying to make up my mind.
Should I stop at the gym? Or should I go home and wait until noon and go out running?
The desire to stop at Border Book store was unbearable strong when I passed it on my way to subway station. I kept walking without giving another look at the store. I knew it, if I stopped at the store:
The snow had stopped falling, but the gray sky made me wondered if I had made mistake for not stopping at the gym. I corrected the thought and changed into a loose cotton pants and Hanes white t-shirt.
By the time I finished selecting the fabric for my current quilt wall hanging project, the sun had just cracked open the dark gray cloud. I put aside the selected fabric, organized the fabric shelves and messy sewing desk.
It was 30 minutes past noon when I completed 15 stretch on the side of over head bridge. I put my right foot forward and began my 8.5 miles run to Charles River. This was my longest run in the winter.
I ran with extra cautious especially when I got to some cracked and uneven sidewalks. A thin layer of ice that look harmless with naked eyes could sent me sprawled on the sidewalk.
I was on a slightly narrow and wet sidewalk on Washington Street when four fat high school girls immediately spread themselves apart when I was about fifteen feet away from me. Three of them were on their cell phones.
Perhaps I was making an assumption when I should've not, but from their body languages and their face expressions, it seemed they did it on purpose. I slowed down and let them passed. The fattest girl on the cell phone slammed her shoulder to her friend on her left that caused a chain reaction.
Sensing their attention, I quickly moved around a trash can and quickly hopped back on the sidewalk that took me behind them. The last girl that was supposed to crash on me, hit a trash can instead.
I didn't know who said to whom, but they cussed , screamed at each other and laughed because one of them dropped the cell phone and one fell on the trash can. I couldn't help smiling to myself.
I think it was the girl who fell on the trash can that turned around and screamed at me,"You stupid fucking Asian bitch. Trying to be white and shit." So much anger, so much bitterness they carried on their young shoulders.
I knew it if I had experienced it ten or fifteen years ago, I would've had turned around and hit where it hurt them most, their archilles tendons. Something about them carried extra pounds of flesh.
I've ran into a couple of incidents where the fat (they weren't big bones or big sizes, but fat) high school age kids walked in two or three. The refused to share a small potion of the sidewalk. They walked with tent-like jackets with their hands in their pockets, elbows sticking out. Girls and boys share the same mentality. A few times I slowed down, stepped aside, let them passed before I sped up again. Saying excuse me didn't seem to work to them.
runbabyrunbabyrunbabyrunbabyrunbabyrunbabyrunbabyrunbabyrunbabyrunbabyrunbabyrunbabyrun
I found my body was easy to adapt by switching my pace every 15 minutes than every 10 minutes. Perhaps my body was telling me to listen to her closely when she was trying to tell what she did and she didn't work with me. Once I hit Tremont Street, I picked up my pace smoothly and I was in my 'çomfort territory'.
I didn't remember when exactly I started to do it, but I discovered when I slightly lean forward my upper body I could feel the sweat streamed down my spine, and that was a scrumptious feeling.
I finished the run in 2 hours and 35 minutes, 15 minutes longer than I planned. I blamed the the trash can. Hah...hah.....hah.... But I was glad I was still breathing.
Posted at 08:05 PM in Run Baby Run | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBack (0)
Thursday Challenge : Travel
When I was a kid taking a ferry ride was half of the fun of getting to a destination. Sometimes I didn't really care where we were going as long as ferry was included in a plan. Before the Penang Bridge was built in 1985, ferries were the only transportation from George Town,Penang Island to the mainland.
I was on the other ferry heading toward Penang when I took this picture during my trip to Malaysia in 2006.
Posted at 09:25 PM in Travel | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
Not long ago I've developed an interest to take pictures of fruits that I peel their skins off. I would start from the top part and gently spiral the knife in my hand forward all the way to a bottom part of the fruit.
It is something with the whole process of peeling a delicate or sometimes a rough texture of the skin of the fruit in my hand that hold my interest.
The knife must be sharp. I hold it gently and yet my thumb is pressed slightly firm against its dull side.
As the flesh of the fruit in my left hand slowly exposed itself, the monkey in my mind has stopped jumping and swinging around from one branch to the next one.
It is one of those moments when the monkey has learned to sit still and watched.
See what I mean about monkeying around?
I hope I didn't chip, crack or break the eagle's tail, Helang Hotel mascot at Langkawi.
Posted at 07:22 AM in Self | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBack (0)
Moody Monday-Colorless
Frozen Charles River in January 2008.
I think I've changed a lot in the past few years in terms of accepting the fact that I live in a place where cold months is longer than a warm month.
It doesn't mean when the winter comes I would be saying, I love winter, I love being out in a cold, but I've learned not to be miserable staying insides my apartment while I could go out and wade in 10 inches snow and enjoy the beauty, the peaceful and the tranquility that only winter could offer.
As long as I bundle myself up from head to toes I'll be all right. Like Bob Marley said, everything will be all right.
Posted at 05:54 AM in Life In The City | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBack (0)
Sunday Scribbling #99- Passion
After I put away clean laundry I did this morning, I began the same process I did yesterday, putting on my running gear in awareness. There was a powerful urge within me that tried to flick my attention on my effort to be in awareness. I heard a drip of water from a kitchen faucet as I slowly pushed up my arm through a left sleeve of my shirt. My first thought was to speed up the process and walked to the kitchen.
Before I turned around toward the bedroom door, another thought came in. Let it be, finish what you are doing. I listened to the voice and by the fifth count of exhale I was gently pulling down the helm of the shirt. The water continued to drip, drip, drip, and I put a second layer of long sleeve fleece shirt.
Only when I was ready to leave, I went to the kitchen and gave an extra turn to the faucet.
The snow was still on the ground, but the sidewalks were 98% free of snow. I was impressed by city workers efficientcy. They've been doing a great job so far.
I did 15 minutes stretch and breathe deeply and put my right foot forward. I didn't cross the field, instead I took a longer route by running on the sidewalk, until I got to the other side and I crossed the soft, fluffy snow on the upper part of the beach. The snow had completely gone on the lower part of the beach.
It was only 9:30 but the sun was already high and bright. Must be a reflection from the snow. After 20 minutes running, my mind start to stray away, I didn't force myself to focus on my breathing like I did before. The thought went away and I was back focusing on my breathing. I was surprised by the smooth transition.
I got to to the beginning of Castle Island ten minutes faster than yesterday. I was pleased with myself even though I didn't plan for it. The sunlight was extra bright by now. The light got into my eyes. I ran backward every 10 minutes to avoid the bright sunlight. My breathing began to get heavier after 8 sets of run forward/backward. When I ran backward I lost the momentum and I dropped the *imaginary newspapers from under my arm, but *the butterflies were still fluttering their wings in my hands. I was very careful not to crush them.
When I finished the first lap around the island , I was tempted to make a second lap and stop at the jetty, but this morning I told myself I didn't want to stop at all. I let the thought float and moved to second lap. As I approached the jetty, I told myself to let my feet made a decision. I wasn't sure if I unconsciously told my feet not to turn into the right side to the jetty.
The sun was already on top my head when I left Castle Island and I was back on the sidewalk. I wanted to take off my wool hat and removed my gloves, but I knew it wasn't a good idea. I had just recovered from a bad cold two weeks ago. I didn't want to get another one.
It was 11:05 when I walked into my apartment. I was surprised at how soaking wet were my two layers of shirts after I removed my hooded fleece short jacket. I made a mental note to wear the first layer sweater I wore this morning. It was 55% acyclic and 45% cotton. Last year I put away this sweater when I accidentally put it in hot cycle dryer. It came out small and exposed my mid rift when I put it on. I learned to day it was a wonderful sweat absorber. And I thought I wasn't sweating enough this morning.
*From Stu Mittleman's Slow Burn
Posted at 04:16 PM in Run Baby Run | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0)
Besides light cough now and then, I slept through the night. I woke up at my usual waking hour, 5:30 a.m. At least 7 inches snow covered the ground and trees. It was quiet, still and peaceful.
After a short stretching I brew the coffee and gathered the fabrics I left on the floor last night. I put them back according to their shades and color. Last night before I went to bed I planned to continue to work on my current wall hanging quilt, but I changed my mind.
I knew it wasn't a good idea to run on the sidewalk, but I was thinking about the beach. In December after the snowstorm, I found out the snow didn't stay long on the beach. They melted away.
I was halfway of pulling up my running thight when Roger D. Joslin's words, dress slowly, methodically, from Running the Spiritual Path popped into my head. I was a little annoyed at myself for a few seconds for not having the thought before I put on the thights, but then I thought again, it was better to have the thought late than not remembering it at all.
When I slid my right arm into a right sleeve, I purposely slowed down the motion. I wanted to see how long could I last. Could I get seven count in and five count out of breathing in sync with my next move? When I exhaled the fourth breathe I was holding the helm of the shirt and slowly pulled it down.
All the way to the beach I moved with extra cautious. I didn't want to sprain my ankle or get hurt just because I was itching to run. I've been living in this city since I was 36 and all those years I never bothered to run in a cold weather. I thought it was stupid to run in cold weather. And the thing I thought it was stupid to do when I was 36, I ended up doing it when I am 50. Am I getting wise or am I losing my mind?
The beach was quiet and clear of snow as I was expected. The tide was low.
After 30 minutes run, I ran to more solid part of the beach and ran backward. I found it was hard to run backward on the semi soft sand, but I could feel my heart started to pump faster. After ten minutes, I continued to run forward and switched to backward after 15 minutes. When I got to the L Street Bath House, I slowed down. As soon I reached to the end of Bath House I sprinted to the beach. I felt the sweat trickled down my spine. I removed my gloves and ran all the way to Castle Island.
I didn't stop at the jetty but continued to run around the island and headed back to the beach. It was 8:47 am when I hit the end of Carson Beach.
When I got home, I put on Keiko Matui's Dream Walk CD and brew another pot of coffee. I toasted two slices pumpernickel toast and had them with cream cheese/almond butter. I was tempted to lie down on the couch and finish the book I was reading, but I knew I needed more physical activities this weekend. Last week, I only went twice to the gym, and that wasn't good.
Last year, in December after we had a big snowstorm, I've made an effort to change my attitude toward snow. I didn't have to love it but I could learn to like it. And I think I've been doing pretty good so far.
I tossed in an extra batteries, workout gloves, sneakers and workout thights into my gym bag and walked to the subway station.
There is something magical about winter (I hope I'm not borrowing some famous writer's words) that I haven't expereinced it in other seasons.
Perhaps the crispy air when I inhaled deeply until my lung hurt.
Perhaps the calmness in people faces that I saw when we passed each other on a narrow snowy paths.
People seemed to be more relaxed when they were out walking in a snow. They appeared to contain the joy, talked quietly to each other almost whispering.
People don't contain their joys in summer.
Perhaps the snow dust that drifted down from the branches and fell on the ground that made it so beautiful.
I think I'm going to use this tree as my next quilt project. I like the way the snow wrapped around the trunk. It's lovely.
After an hour I walked, admired, watched and enjoyed the snow, I walked to the gym and spent another 90 minutes there.
Posted at 05:08 PM in Run Baby Run | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
When I was a little girl, one thing I wanted so much and did not get it was a grandfather. I saw other kids around me had their grandfathers visited them from time to time. Some of the kids had two grandfathers and I had none.
I noticed that these kids were spoiled rotten by their grandfathers. This kid who lived next door when we lived in Kelantan had two grandfathers visited him within a year. Every morning I heard him whining and crying, refused to eat his breakfast until his grandfather took him for a walk.
And when they got home he whined again, refused to take a bath unless his grandfather gave him a bath. What a lucky little devil, I thought.
One thing that made me mad was these kids acted a little cocky when their grandfathers were around. They stopped playing with us. When they were with their grandfathers, they looked at us with a smirk on their faces, which I interpreted as: Look at you, where is your grandpa? A couple of these kids stopped talking to us when their grandfathers were around, as having their grandfathers was the best thing in the world. I envied them .
I looked longingly at a large wrinkle hand wrapped around a little hand when they walked side by side. I looked in awe when a grandfather and a kid came out from the store, stopped near a trash can, the grandfather unwrapped the ice cream cone, threw the wrapper in a trash can and gave the ice cream to his grandkid. The kid licked the ice cream, looked up at the grandfather with a huge smile. He held out the ice cream to the grandfather. The grandfather held the kid's hand, licked the ice cream and they smiled at each other. All of sudden my ice cream didn't taste that good anymore.
"Wait until your grandfather goes home, and you'll be crawling and begging us to let you back in our team. And you will learn a lesson." My head was busy scheming a plan. Of course it didn't happen because we wanted to hear what they did with their grandfathers.
One day I asked my mother if I any of my grandfathers would visit us even I knew the answer.
"You know that none of your grandfathers is still around. They were all dead long time ago."
"I wish TokWan* is still alive."
"Me too."
"I will show off to them how good my grandfather is."
"That is not a good reason to have a grandfather."
"Why?"
"Because you want to show off to them, not because you want to Tok Wan for yourself."
"But I want to have TokWan for myself."
"Then say it."
"I want to have TokWan for myself so I can show him my drawings and my slingshot."
"I know TokWan is smiling right now."
Posted at 01:13 AM in Dreams, Ghosts and Memories | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
One of the residents was upset recently when a staff on duty at the front desk let his mother into the building without letting him know first. The client filed a grievance and the hearing would be held next week.
The staff made three mistakes:
And the third biggest mistake he made was:
The mother was released from prison a couple of months ago. She found out his son was in a facility treatment. She came in with her boyfriend who was two years older than her son. The son has been trying to detach himself from his self destructive mother for years. She gave up on him when she was four. She won the custody when he was seven. Abandoned him three years later. He grew up in seven foster cares. He was physically and sexually abused by two of his foster fathers.
Last year he found out he had a twin brother who was killed in Iraq.
When I put all these things together, all of sudden my personal issues look like just a drop of water in the ocean.
Posted at 07:15 AM in Life As It Is | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
This picture was taken on the third snowstorm we had recently in January. I wonder if we are going to get more soon. But I think the picture is appropriate for this week, Thursday Challenge.
Posted at 06:46 AM in Arts/Ideas | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
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