Blogging on the Powwow

If you follow me on Facebook, then you know that things have gone south with my running injury. In fact, there is some evidence that things may have gotten worse, despite the fact that I still have not run since Thanksgiving.  So, on Friday when my doctor told me that I had to revert to the dreaded surgical shoe and that I couldn't use the elliptical machine or a stair climber, I knew that I had to find a way to swim. I couldn't face 8+ more weeks on the stationary bicycle. I just couldn't do it. I like to think of myself as a pretty simple person. I prefer older cars, I don't have the latest technology, we have a modest-sized house in an even more modest neighborhood, I hardly ever wear make-up, and I don't use any special products that promise to improve my aging body. Hence, I like Planet Fitness; $99 for the year and all the basic cardio and weight equipment that I could ever need... until now.  Since there is no YMCA nearby, I hauled myself and the surgical s

I really don't like going to the gym, but I go. Almost every day. I dislike it even more when I have a running injury. I greatly resent exercising indoors next to many other people. I feel deprived of sunlight, vitamin D, fresh air, solitude, and keeping up the with going's-on in my town that I usually monitor on daily runs. And, of course, I just feel deprived of running, which can make me slightly miserable. The running injury has gone on so long this time that I have had a chance to "get over myself." Once I stopped feeling sorry for myself, I started to take in the larger scene: dozens of people, sweating it out on machines that run for most of the day, so that we might achieve what nature had in mind for us -- the muscles, heart rate, flexibility, and endurance of a hunter-gatherer.  Now, when I am panting along with everyone else, towering above the stinky masses on one of the two, old stair machines with steps that run on a belt, I see the irony of this

My 40th birthday turned out to be great. I planned what I hoped would be a wonderful day for myself and indeed, it was! When I was 29 and about to turn 30, I attended a conference in San Diego. I spotted a colleague, who I had only briefly met back at the research center at UNH, at one of the conference sessions. I wasn't as practiced at making friends back then, but I pushed through whatever hesitation I had about approaching this colleague and was greatly rewarded! I discovered that Wendy and I had so much in common: we loved rural areas, mountain hiking, similar foods, exercise, and were both partnered with men much older than ourselves.  Wendy and I had both, independently, planned to leave San Diego on the same day at similar times; in fact, we shared a taxi to the airport very early on what was my 30th birthday. Wendy and I have remained good friends, hiking together in the White Mountains, sharing marathon strategies, and having dinners together with our husbands. Thus, it s

In the coming week, I will turn 40 years old. Finally . I think that I have been waiting almost forever  to be the age that I have felt most of my life. Even when I was a young girl, I just wanted to be "grown up." To add fuel to this instinct, from the time that I entered my early teens until even last week, people have always thought that I am much older than my actual age. When I was 13, people used to mistake me to be the 17 year old in the family. They would bypass my sister and say, "So, where are you applying for college?" You can imagine the delight this gave a 13 year old and I am sure that I am made sister aware of it every possible moment.  When I was in college, we had a guest to the Psychology Dept. This individual saw me carrying around some papers and addressed me: "Are you a secretary here?" "No, I am not." "Well, then you must be a graduate student?" "No, I'm sorry." "Then...are you a facul

I think that it all started with the "penny bowls" - you know the ones: "Take a Penny - Leave a Penny." When did that start...20 years ago? I think that I was a teenager, so maybe 25 years. You're at the register and your tab comes to $3.31. You have $3.30 and don't want to break a new bill, so go ahead - take a penny to bring your total to $3.31. And, when you get 1 penny back from handing the cashier a 5 dollar bill for something that came to $4.99, you leave the penny in the little bowl. When this tradition started, I remember liking it, thinking that it was a nice gesture. It somehow seemed supportive - a common recognition that we all need a penny from time to time! Looking back, I'm not so sure that it was about helping your fellow man or woman...I think it was just a sign of the truer coming trend - the limited value of the penny. The more recent trend has surprised me, though. Somewhere in the past few years I was a penny short and there was