Wednesday, August 12, 2009

The Return of the Spork

After a long absence, I have been reunited with an old friend. To eat lunch with my spork is to recall my ascent of Mt. Whitney, that trip with Andy to the Channel Islands, camping with my daughter, adventures too numerous to count...all bound up in that featherweight utensil. Lately, I had been using this indispensable piece of backpacking gear to eat my lunch at work. Instead of wasting a disposable plastic spoon, I began relying on my spork. Then it was lost. Our crack cleaning crew had cleaned off my desk and, along with the moldy coffee cup, my spork entered the mysterious system that somehow results in restocked cupboards filled with personal mugs. It is always a scramble to find out where my favorite mug ends up. But my spork! I couldn't find it anywhere...for months. Until today, when my dear friend told me where it would be. Saving my life again. Over a simple mouth tool. Another tale for my spork to bind to its titanium tines.

Monday, August 10, 2009

To and Fro

for Sara turning twenty

Like most things regarding fatherhood,
It came to me accidentally
at the school playground.
Toddler you, on the swing,
born knowing what to do and
me, wordless, trying to find a way to make you laugh.
I forget now,
where you were in the arc:
to or fro?
Were you flying backwards while I said “stay back there!”
Or were you at my fingertips when I said “stay here!”
…knowing that neither was possible.

Now, still hoping the words come,
not sure to beckon you to leave or beseech you to stay.
Still concerned with happiness.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

My Longest Run

I am halfway through my marathon training program. Each week I look at what my schedule demands and each week I feel more and more confident that I can obey its commands. "14 mile easy run" was on the docket for this weekend. My longest run yet. The toughest three miles for me: the first one (always), the middle one, and the penultimate one. This was certainly true today, but still I finished strong, feeling I could have gone another two miles easily. But another twelve? Again I look to my schedule. I believe in my plan.
Chicago here I come.