The Patina of Experience

It has been a tough couple of weeks; a dear family member has cancer, work continues to consume more than it's psychic share of time, and we seemed to have skipped spring and jumped right into summer.  Although it feels nice in the moment, the snow will return or the tornadoes or the hail and will pound the daffodils back  into the earth.  And so it goes. (apologies to Vonnegut for plagiarism)

This time of year brings the annual I-have-been-skiing-therefore-I-must-be-in-running-shape runs.  Those runs hurt.  There was no snow this year in New England so the skiing was sparse and yet again did not keep me in running shape.  Maybe the skiing as training philosophy is a false path.

As I was coming up on a hill that can only be described as gruesome, I spotted this by the side of the road.  The next time I ran that course, it was still there..... where it remains.  I look for it now, and smile when I think of my new talisman, a rusty chain.  I'm tempted to pick it up but am hopeful that it is providing fortitude for other runners or walkers.   

WCE said at dinner tonight, "I think I just like working with older people."   I think we are becoming the older people, actually.  Our parents are aging, our bodies are complaining, and our kids are beginning to think we are decidedly uncool.  My daughter actually has a specific look, only used for the special occasion for when I dance.  I want to say to her "Have you won 50 dollars at a dance contest with your gay boyfriend?  No? Then shelve the look sister" but instead I smile wisely and say nothing.  Her day will come.

So is it rust?  I think not.  I prefer the patina of experience.