God would want a front porch

Last night I had a chance to walk the West Central neighborhood with about 20 folks and kiddos from the Porch, Branches and New Community (local churches). Together we answered questions and reflected on the lifestyle, stereotypes and vision for the area. It is common knowledge that West Central is the poorest neighborhood in the city...in fact, last I heard, the stats were that it was the poorest in the state! But as I walked, I paid particular attention to one thing (of many) that was strikingly different than many upper-class neighborhoods...the presence (and the actual use of) a front porch.

One of the children that attended the walk last night was asked by his dad what they thought was different from what they see in their neighborhoods. His response was, "The houses are rusty and they have couches on the front porch...Why are there couches on the front porch?" I grinned because I had an idea....but his dad didn't quite grasp it. Saying something similar to the idea that couches were supposed to be indoors.

My involvement at the Porch constantly makes me wonder what it is I am to be learning. Why do I attend a church in one of the toughest, poorest neighborhoods in the state? Why do I feel more at home when I'm there than when I'm with friends and family located in more socially acceptable and visually appealing 'hoods? Where the primary concern is where the next meal is coming from or how the heck a single mother will get her laundry done when it takes 2 bus rides to get to the nearest laundry mat? I'll tell you one thing that I am learning and absolutely loving: Community. Walking those streets, I saw community. People, regardless of their race, religion, social or economic status, are together...and many of them on their porches.

What is important? To me? To us? To God?
For me, I think it's the front porch and I have a feeling God likes the idea too.

skip more

I still get wildly enthusiastic about little things.... I play with leaves.  I skip down the street and run against the wind.  I never water my garden without soaking myself.  ~Leo F. Buscaglia, Bus 9 to Paradise


I think skipping could be the answer to many of our adult health problems.  ~Jeanne, as posted on iskip.com


If you've lost your enthusiasm, there's no better place to find it than on a skipping excursion.  And, you might just find your lost youth as well!  ~Jessi Lane Adams


I found myself skipping down the middle of my street yesterday and in an instant, I was giddy as a little kid. Of course there were other people around me...and wouldn't you know they looked at me like I was an idiot. An idiot they loved, but still an idiot. So the question arose...
"Why not skip?" 


The feelings I felt brought up a fond memory of mine. I used to be a greeter (don't laugh) at a local casino (of course I did other things! don't be silly) and I used to work closely with the security guards that would stand at each entrance. One in particular, Richard...aka Dick (yes, it's worth mentioning that I am/was slightly immature at that time and found it hard to call him by his preferred name...I still don't understand why anyone would do that). Dick was a 70+ yr. old, quick-as-a-whip man that always had a fun/funny story to tell. Honestly, the relationship I had with him was very similar to a grandpa/granddaughter...he looked after me and I looked up to him...not always for advice though because he more often than not, he had something feisty to say that would most likely get me in trouble. 


One day, I found Dick to be standing at the south end of the building and particularly moody. His chatter was cut a bit short and the light was lost from his face. When I inquired as to the problem, "What's with the long face?" a grumbly grouchy answer is what I got (I don't recall the details of his issue...but I think it was something to do with his boss...this was usually the case) I don't like to brag about myself but to this day, I am still impressed with my own actions...
At this time in the building of this casino, there were revolving glass doors on the south end of the building. We'd often find multiple people twirling round and round in them, eventually spitting themselves out with enormous smiles on their faces. Remembering this, a light bulb went on in my head. I casually walked over to the doors, knowing that Dick's curious eyes were following me. I threw myself at the doors with gusto and round and round I went. I didn't realize at the time what this would do to my mood but I was elated! Who'd have thought that revolving doors would give you the giddies? So I marched up to Dick and presented a challenge..."your turn". 
"What?! I'm not going through those doors!", he snorted.
"Sure you are! It'll brighten your mood, I guarantee it!" I said.
By this time, his face lit up a little. You could tell that he was debating... keep his cool card or do what he thinks would be funny. So I pressured him. 
"DO IT". 
He giggled (yes, 70 year olds still giggle...which makes me happy) "NO! I'm not going through those doors!" 
"Just go around twice...see what happens." 
He hesitated...but this told me I was getting to him. The next thing I knew, he uncrossed his arms marched toward the doors and round and round he went! Once, twice, three times! And like all the other folks we've seen, he spat himself out with an enormous smile on his face. Walking back to me he says, "I can't believe you made me do that." 
"What do you mean? I didn't make you do anything.", I quipped. "But it worked, didn't it?" 
I was as happy as a bird with a french fry...and I'm convinced he was too.


I hope to always remember this story and hold it dear to my heart. It amazes me the adults I run into that have lost their childlike abilities. I don't know if this is something we can blame our society for or not but for me, I want to remember the simple joys in life and never take for granted how these little things can make others feel. 

So for no reason, skip! Roll around in the grass! Sing Disney songs with your friends and for heaven's sake, take a trip around the revolving glass doors for once! Your heart will thank you. 

banana slug

"My friend asked me if I wanted a frozen banana. I said `No, but I want a regular banana later, so... yeah.`'

"It's not about how fast you go. It's not about how far you go. It's a process."

Amby Burfoot, The Runner's Guide to the Meaning of Life

A process indeed. I am currently in my first full week of actual Marathon training. I am no longer in my base training phase...which scares the crap out of me.

For one thing, with Ali and Jen, I visited our dear friend Beth in Seattle last weekend (Memorial weekend). I promised myself I would run my scheduled 7 miles on Sunday 'no matter what'. Apparently, there were loopholes in that statement...

'no matter what unless...'

unless there are huge hills in Seattle (check),

unless we walk 500 miles all over downtown (check),

unless we stay out until 3am dancing and grubbin' out at IHOP (check and check).

I wouldn't normally beat myself up for missing this run since I really did a lot of activity while we were in town. But this day set the pace for the rest of the week. Somehow I became too busy and too darned tired to run at all for the rest of the week! My only legit excuse fell on Thursday when I had to work extra early AND late then rushing out to grab yummy Veraci pizza for our small group that we host. Otherwise, I was just too darned lazy. Not the way I wanted to spend my last week of base training.

I wrestled with thoughts like, "is this it? Did I just ruin my chances by being lazy?" and "will I be ok after this entire week off?" The answer? YES, silly girl. In fact, I was soooo ok that when Bobby accidentally dropped me off 1 mile too far for my long run on Sunday, resulting in a surprisingly fast 8 mile run, I didn't even feel as though I'd been MIA. (it should be noted that this 'accidental' 8 miler was a lack of communication on both parts and failure to pay attention on my part...but it's a funny story now so who cares?)

I'm supposed to be swimming on Mondays but I just haven't gotten my act together the last 3 weeks...the longer I'm there by myself, the more I feel like the solitary beta fish I used to keep as a pet...back and forth, back and forth, round and round...I've got nothing to look at but the bottom of the pool and the occational unenthusiastic lifeguard when I come up to breathe. But I know it's good for me, this going round and round, so pick it back up I must!

Tuesday's run had the typical 'bag of rocks' feel to it...I think my body just hates waking up at 5:30am and this is the way it retaliates. But I encountered an obstacle course that looked like strikingly similar to Canadian geese and a slimy slug upon my return home that prompted the kid in me to poke it with a stick.

Apparently, they have 4 noses.