| It is a cold winter day on 28 December in San Diego--47 degrees at 9 am. I am dressed in black shorts and a long sleeve orange shirt, determined to start training today for my 10 K. for Claire on 11 June. The waves of the Pacific Ocean crash behind me, and I feel a burst of optimism. I can raise money for this scholarship and do so by facilitating my own recovery from BED. I feel I must set the right tone for this first run, and so I turn to classic hip hop: "I Go To Work" by Kool Moe Dee. I was not "with it" enough to have listened to this song back in 1989, when it first came out, but it is a perfect start: "I go to work, like a doctor," the rapper begins, and then kicks in with: Open the door playtime is over |
As I run, I feel the difference between then and now. Then, I weighed in at 130 lbs, and now, I am more than 200 lbs. If you want to imagine what it is like to run with an extra 70 lbs, then imagine yourself dressed in running shorts and a t-shirt...and carrying two fat male cocker spaniels. Can you now imagine how your knees and your lungs--as well as your overall self-esteem--will feel as you bumble down the jogging path awkwardly and very slowly carrying this extra weight. I push on for fifteen minutes, my first run in months. When I am done running, I do my best to engage in positive self-talk, but, fuck it, for just a moment, I allow myself to miss my skinny body!
As I walk back to the rental unit, I think about Maryclaire. I get weepy as I listen to Jay-Z sing "Forever Young." As I listen to the rap interspersed with Mr. Hudson's melodic piano, I come to two realizations that almost make me laugh: 1) I never listened to Jay-Z--or even any hip hop--with Maryclaire, because 2) Maryclaire was a committed Deadhead and yoga instructor, and so the idea of her turning willingly to hip hop when out on a walk is ludicrous (not Ludacris!). I smile just a little at the thought as I give myself permission to not cry just this once. I will just enjoy thinking about how Maryclaire might roll her eyes at the strange choice of music with which I remember her.
As I walk back to the rental unit, I think about Maryclaire. I get weepy as I listen to Jay-Z sing "Forever Young." As I listen to the rap interspersed with Mr. Hudson's melodic piano, I come to two realizations that almost make me laugh: 1) I never listened to Jay-Z--or even any hip hop--with Maryclaire, because 2) Maryclaire was a committed Deadhead and yoga instructor, and so the idea of her turning willingly to hip hop when out on a walk is ludicrous (not Ludacris!). I smile just a little at the thought as I give myself permission to not cry just this once. I will just enjoy thinking about how Maryclaire might roll her eyes at the strange choice of music with which I remember her.