showtime

in keeping with the marathon's green theme, this, from february 2005, gets recycled.



no iPod necessary tonight. i'm at the bar at halcyon, lovely cold amber bubbling in a glass before me.

tom petty's playing - an american girl. earlier, journey, separate ways.

the songs of my youth. my youth - what a weird phrase to use. few memories exist where the radio isn't playing. i remember life marked out in time with music, with rock and roll, on KLBJ, on Z-102, on cassette tapes and eventually cd's.

i'm riding high. i feel myself rushing towards the surface from the depths, like one of the bubbles in my beer, driving smoothly upwards towards the heavens.

i went to take this picture after work, a mission that has bugged me for days. my coworker felipe went with me, walked part of the way, stayed behind to make a phone call. i ran across and along the access road, free on our first clear and crisp day in weeks, running past the people and the cars mired in rush hour traffic. i ran instinctively to a point on the grassier verge, turned, brought the camera up to my eye, and there through the viewfinder was the sun, low in the sky now, backlighting a glowing brushstroke of a cloud, and there, the sign, yellow, saying simply, "showtime."

on tuesday, i was awash in emotions. maybe illness or fatigue, but a few times that day, i was overwhelmed, and i felt the warmth build up behind my eyes, before i'd push it all back. but one moment that day hit me more squarely, more firmly, as i drove up to the Runtex Store for Psychotic Running People, and saw the sign.

i had run my first half-marathon a couple of weeks ago. and as important as it was, as an accomplishment, and a catharsis, it still seemed like a part of the preparation for the freescale half-marathon.

so, i didn't understand why, as i saw the sign, but even now, thinking of it, i feel again the same warmth, the same tightening in the throat. and this time, the words on the page blur in my vision, and the ink itself begins to blur in drops on the page.

there is so much in a life, so much to feel and know and remember, but nevertheless, there are those moments and events that we single out, that resonate more deeply for us, that we know will linger.

so much of life is preparing, so often for dreams, worthwhile or misguided, that may or may not come true.

this thing, preparing for this run, is a small thing for some runners, a small thing in this life, certainly a small thing in this world, but still... so many miles. so much effort, so much wanting and needing. so much love and encouragement from so many people, lifelong friends, new friends, old loves, even strangers, even from a friend now gone. so much wanting to help, to be a part of something, so much help from people for that friend's daughter, for a little girl they may never meet.

i hear all the footsteps run, all the pavement and trail underfoot, i hear all those voices, i hear my own, cursing myself, praising myself, i feel everything of the last four months, i feel the echoes of preparations and hopes of a life already long but not done, all saying steadily, confidently, now, "showtime."