It has been the nicest day. This morning I woke up early but not stupid-early, which is often a problem for me as we creep closer to the solstice, and I had a lovely solitary start to the day. I had been planning to do a reverse-brick workout today, running first and then biking. My last run, on Thursday, was ridiculously unpleasant-- SO SO unpleasant. I headed out today with low expectations, but my run went well. I've posted about this before, the way that you have to keep showing up when workouts feel stupid-hard and eventually they feel easier, but it continues to surprise me.
I was only planning to bike about 5 miles, but you guys, they were the BEST 5 miles. Say, I have a question for you: what is your response when a stranger greets you on a multi-use trail? I was raised in the South, and my parents taught me that good manners meant offering a brief greeting to the people you see while walking. I don't do it on city sidewalks, but it feels weird to me to ignore the people who are using the trail with me. If I am running I will offer a quick wave or nod, but on my bike I almost always speak to the people I am passing. I say "on your left!" because when I'm on foot I don't like it when people just zoom around me without a word, and I almost always append "good morning!" Most of the time I get no response. Sometimes when I wave at people walking toward me I can see them studiously looking past me, like, "I will pretend I cannot see that this weird stranger is greeting me, because that is better than waving or nodding in return."
I know that norms re: greeting strangers vary a lot with region and population density, but it's interesting to see how often people seem put off by the definition of good manners that I grew up with.
This morning I was feeling so cheerful that I not only wished everyone I saw a good morning, I even burst into song at one point. (I made sure that I was alone. I myself might give a wide berth to someone who was cruising down the trail belting out a Jesus-y song at the top of her lungs.) But it was such a perfect morning, and there was a gentle little downhill and a gentle little tailwind that let me push my bike past 20 miles per hour almost effortlessly. The song just came streaming out of me: let the glory of the Lord endure forever, let the Lord be glad in his works!
In honor of Pentecost we had chili-marinated chicken (because fire) cooked on the grill (because more fire). I have thought for a long time that the eating of an artichoke offers a useful metaphor for the Christian life; it reminds me of the way that our prickly outer bits are stripped away over time, slowly exposing a sweet and tender heart. I love artichokes so much, but we hardly ever buy them. Pete is my artichoke buddy and we exclaimed together as we ate, admiring the purple-shaded inner petals and the Fibonacci-patterned upper surface of the heart. For dessert I made chocolate lava cakes (because still more fire) in heart-shaped dishes with the hope that the sweetness of the love of God will always be evident to my children.
And now I am off to bed, because a reasonable bedtime is the best buffer against the unpleasant consequences of waking up stupid-early.
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