birds of a feather

i don't have good luck with birds.

i was standing by the see-saw in elementary school when i felt something hit my head. curiously, i put my hand up to see what it was. i found a substance that looked curiously like my sandwich that day, and for one weird moment i thought, "i ate my whole sandwich...so how did i get it in my hair?" and then it hit me. bird poop.

i figured it out at about the same time as all the other see-sawers who kindly pointed and laughed as i ran off to the school nurse. she tried her best to wipe it out with those smelly brown paper towels. but i had to go the rest of the day with crusty crap on my head.

it doesn't end there.

in fifth grade on a fishing trip, i got bird shit on my leg. fortunately my dad was there to save the day.

fast forward to adulthood. while on the beach with my parents, more bird poop on my head. this tme i had a very adult reaction, i cried. why me, birds? why me?

even further into adulthood while driving to disney, john shouts "duck!" so naturally, we both duck in our seats. in that moment i see an actual duck struggling to get out of the way of my windshield and failing, cue thud. i didn't know if i should laugh or cry so i did both. john had to ask me to run the windshield wipers to get rid of the big wet streak that poor duck left in its wake.

this is not that duck. although i was assured it was ok.

a few months later, i was doing some christmas shopping outlets. it was a windy day and as i took my next step i saw the wind blow something under my foot. i tried to change my footing but as my right foot went down i felt something soft and squishy under it. i was afraid to look back, and i never should have.

i had stepped on a bird. don't even ask how that is possible.

i called john. i called my sister. i cried. bless her heart, she said the bird was probably sick and i put it out of its misery.

and it doesn't even end there.

back in disney last weekend we were walking from canada to england when i felt something hit my head and then saw bird poop hit the ground in front of me. it was the see-saw all over. john pointed and laughed as i shrunk off to the bathroom and wiped it out of my hair with toilet paper.

i text my sister who gave me the standard "that means good luck" reply. everybody who has NEVER been pooped on, says this.

now, i don't have a bad life by any means. i feel pretty fortunate. i wouldn't mind being a little richer, but who wouldn't. i don't even dislike birds. (well with the exception of lunch-stealing seagulls). everytime i see a cardinal, i feel my grandma nana close by. i wouldn't change anything about my life.

no, i just wish i had better luck with birds.

back in the game.

i took a whole week off from running. it was fabulous and frustrating at the same time. some days i enjoyed the lazy afternoons, others i had to stop myself from lacing up. i can't say i was any more productive with my time. some days i was even less so.

and then i needed it. i needed to get out there and "pound that pavement."

sunday morning the dog went 4 miles with me. i hadn't taken her in a while because of the distances i had been going. i could tell she missed it by the pace she kept and the way her ears flopped around from her bouncy stride. she makes running fun. most of the time.

last night i needed to get out there and just run my butt off. i think best when i run and then sometimes i run not to think. last night was one of those nights. one of my favorite phish songs repeatedly sings that "you've got to run like an antelope out of control."

that was me. i was that antelope.

i ran as fast as i could for 3.25 miles and just enjoyed going fast and thought of nothing else. it felt so good. and while justin timberlake and the killers belted it out on my ipod all i could hear was "run like an antelope out of control."

their are good runs and bad runs, fast runs and runs that seem to be endless. their are runs that clear the head and other that fill the heart. and there are the runs that will just plain kick your butt.

but i'd still rather get out there and get going.

a half marathon is not half as hard.

yesterday i completed my sixth half marathon.

it was not nearly my favorite or fastest. in fact it was my third worst time coming in four minutes behind my second half marathon, and fourteen behind my first. every once in a while a person needs to be humbled.

in the past few weeks i was looking forward to this half as if it were just another long run. i thought i've done this five times before, i know i can do it. and while that was true, i can do it and i did, i thought it would be a lot easier than it was.

perhaps it was the frantic search for porta potties with toilet paper and the incredibly long line we waited on that left me no time to psych myself up at the start line. there was that cramp that kicked my butt (or really my stomach) from mile four to six. or maybe it was the 40 degree warmer tempurature and 100 percent humidity change from the last time that made the difference. i could even blame it on the lack of good music and cheering on the route, although the grand piano on the top of the bridge was a nice touch. or maybe that gummy bear i almost choked on did me in.

but i don't want to make excuses. i know i was in better shape last time. but a girl can dream.

it started out almost like any other race. i still got the same excitement at the countdown and as my feet started moving i said a little prayer as usual. my ipod helped start a good pace. i tried to remember all the reasons i run. repeat mantras like "do work" and "every step is one step closer." but then each mile seemed longer than the last and it was all down hill from there.

don't get me wrong, it wasn't all bad. it's just that the last race i ran, i felt awesome almost the whole time. i could have danced my way through those 13.1 miles. granted, it was in disney, where the crowds were 100 times larger and the weather was so cold i couldn't feel my legs. i just didn't get that high on life feeling this time around, and i missed it.

but it can't be all sunshine and roses.

at mile 13 there was a man down. oxegyn, stretcher, paramedics and all. i can't stop thinking of how close he was to get that finishers metal. how cruel it must feel to be that close to the end and to fall short.

so i should be grateful to have crossed that finish line. placing 28 out of 70 in my age division. i am thankful for the ability and strength to run those long 13.1 miles (and yes, that .1 does make a difference!). i gave it my best and i'll give it more next time.

when i picked up my race number at the expo the day before, i saw a shirt that said "13.1, i don't go all the way." what a load of crap (sorry mom). just because i don't run a full marathon, doesn't mean it isn't hard.

just because it's half the distance doesn't mean i put in half the effort.

not every race can be your best, but you should take pride in the effort. in crossing the finish line. heck, in even getting to the starting line!

it had to be.

i've always been an advocate of the saying, "things happen for a reason, just believe." there is some larger force out there putting together all the pieces of your life like a jigsaw puzzle. sometimes it takes a few pieces to come together before you can see the larger picture.

i used to joke that my last name was "with habitat." i always was introducing my self as "jessica, with habitat." the thought of trading in my last name for a new one was incredibly frightening. i had so ingrained my persona around my work with habitat. not being on staff anymore made me feel like i was leaving the cool kids table at the cafeteria.

this weekend as i became a true habitat volunteer and spent the morning painting in the glorious florida sunshine, a little voice in my head kept saying "it had to be."

it was a peaceful thought after a lot of struggle and a big dose of change. to know that the choices i had made were right and good and fit in my life puzzle.

and being a volunteer was wonderful. it felt good to commit my saturday morning to something i believe in, not just something i get paid for. standing in the sunshine painting baseboards all morning was a joy. then i took my "little" out to the library (first time i've been in 4 years, long story), to sonic where we pigged out, and to the beach to make a sandcastle. in january.



and i thanked my lucky stars for all of the pieces that have come together to put me where i am today and i know, it had to be, and it will be okay. great, even.