Except that I felt under the weather yesterday, it was a very nice Mother's Day. Mark and Harry planted a weeping birch tree for me in the front yard, and Mariel called me from a taverna on the beach somewhere in Ecuador. The day didn't start off so well, considering that I felt the world was listing to the left, and couldn't keep down Marty's lovely waffles with strawberries. For once I didn't think: could this be leukemia? It could have been any of a number of questionable things I did on Saturday which included sitting in the cold windy stands at the Hartford Invitational Track Meet, followed by a celebratory meal at a restaurant in Mystic. Marty thinks it was the fish. Mark by the way PR'd in the mile at 4:19:84, placing first in the unseeded heat and seventh overall.
The queasiness didn't stop me from going to the nursery with Marty to pick out the tree. Nor did it keep me from having a short but sweet visit with former Brooklyn neighbors Roxi and Mike who dropped by on the way home from their eldest daughter's softball tournament at Rhode Island College. It's nice to keep up these connections from a past life.
I had planned to go on a long run yesterday, but since the ground kept sinking away from me, I decided it was a bad idea. This morning, however, I was determined to get out and jog before the rain sets in. I still wasn't 100%, but I was no longer listing so I went for it. I kept it short and oh so slow, but I did it, showing once again who's boss.
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