Experiments in Life
Rocks and roots, Sinead O'Connor, and Andre 3000's trash bag
Hi loves
I thought I might do another round up of daily thoughts for the newsletter this week but . . . that did not happen. What DID happen was I went for a run and need to tell you about it! Was it the elixir of spring? A strange cocktail of adrenaline, timing, and caffeine? Who knows! I love this about life / myself, though. I haven’t run since before my second surgery last year. Truthfully, finding out that my surgeons wanted to HAVE a second surgery kind of put the kibosh on some of my physical excitement. (My balance is just going to be wiped out soon or I’m going to be laid up with painkillers again, what is the point?!) But yesterday after a brief trip to Ann Arbor visiting (and crying with) my old doctor (not the oldest doctor, a man so wonderfully experienced he’s got benevolent patriarchy vibes), I came home, prepped dinner, and grabbed my daughter for “a little jog.”
Shrug emoji, miracle emoji, tulip emoji. It had just rained, the air felt amazing, robins splashed in the puddles. My daughter kicked my ass with her strides and I didn’t care. (I’m sooooo used to my kids schooling me in sports at this point.)
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