Thinking about the amount of work I have piled up sort of takes my breath away. But I have no meetings today and should be able to put my head down and just get stuff done. Last week I made a list at the beginning of the week, and at the end of the week the list was virtually unchanged. So, that’s one thing I don’t have to do today – make a list, I already have it!
I walked down to the race yesterday to cheer my friend. I missed her altogether. Later she told me she had a horrible day and was sick for most of her 50k (that’s 3 miles!!). Her time was not at all what anyone expected, that’s how I missed her. But I stood along the trail for a little more than an hour and clapped and cheered for the runners going by.
Having done that particular race twice and maybe a hundred other races over the years, it was so interesting to be a fan! I got to see the mid-pack and back of the pack half-marathoners and the elite 50k, 50 mile, and 100k runners. I was in awe of the elites. Some of them just looked like perfect human beings, with perfect running form, on a perfect day in the end of September. I just stood clapping and saying “awesome.” And then there were the struggling half-marathoners. Either red or white in the face (I worry about the white faced ones) every step a painful labor. I wanted to go hug them. I also wanted to say to them the very least favorite thing I ever hear when I am racing: Looking Good!!! I managed to refrain from that. People tend to know when they look pitiful and being told they look good just sounds phony and condescending. I found something cute or funny to say to everyone. Several thanked me for my energy. Most of them smiled or laughed. I know how much a laugh or a smile can mean when you are at mile 8.5 of a half marathon. Although I have no idea what it feels like to be 18.5 miles into a 31, 50, or 62 mile run, which is what the elites were doing.
I went and spent the rest of the morning with my little grandchildren while their parents prepare their house to sell. My granddaughter and I walked to the park while her baby brother was sleeping.
On Saturday I had agreed to watch the kids while my son and his wife went out for dinner. They made reservations at a very nice steakhouse nearby. Somehow I totally forgot about this and was at church when they got here. Oh my dear Lord. When I got out of Mass and saw the text that said they were on their way an hour earlier, I immediately remembered and felt sick! Sick! Sick! I called and apologized. “No problem Mom, we just went out for dinner with the kids.” DAMNATION! I got home and cried for hours. Loud, sobbing, crying for hours. I could not believe I could forget such a thing! I was beside myself.
I think there might have been years of tears I had stored. They all came pouring out. It was dreadful. Finally my daughter got home from work and got me to stop.
I promised that I will write everything in my calendar. I must do that. It shows me how overwhelmed I am, but still, how does a grandmother forget a date with her grandchildren? Horrible.
Who knew you could ever feel guilty for being at Mass instead of somewhere else? It has to be better than missing your grandkids because you were drunk. And that’s about all it could be better than.
And now another week. It should be a good one. I have my grandkids one day this weekend too, and I don’t think I am going to forget it. But it is on my calendar just the same.