Mind Over Matter

I find myself in a precarious position...

needing to take a dose of my own medicine.  And, I don't like it.

Upon completion of my first half marathon race in May, I immediately signed up to run the Chicago Half Marathon in the fall.  I thought it would be a really fun experience to run down Lake Shore Drive with 20,000 other people in a city that never sleeps.

I also hoped to reconnect with college friends that I hadn't seen in over a decade remembering my time in Lake Forest, a northern suburb.

What I didn't count on was the logistics...or, I should say my fear of them.

Let me back track.  I have absolutely no pathfinder gene...no navigational talent.  Maps look like gibberish to me and even when I had an internship in the windy city, I had friends help me navigate the path to get there.

To bring the point even closer to home, once when I was a little girl, I actually got lost in the locker room at the swimming pool unable to find the exit to get out to the pool.  My older brother had to send some sweet mom in to try and find me.

I know...you may want to disown me now that you know the truth.  Seems like I can write a master's thesis...but I can't navigate my way to Starbucks.

And so, I've been having nightmares about getting lost on the subway, stranded at the race, unable to find my way back to the airport.

I've been stressing my husband out with my tears and my silliness thinking that an iPhone will be a silver bullet.  But the truth is it won't.  I just have to be brave and face my fears.

Sometimes, we choose the journeys that will bring us the greatest life changing lessons and other times they are thrust upon us.  Either way, no matter how silly or futile they may seem at the time, they need to be endured.

So, that at the Chicago Half finish line and on the plane ride home, I can say, I did it.

My Heart Longs to Travel

Lately, I've been consumed with an overwhelming desire to travel.

2011 was the first year in a long time that I did not board a plane. 

So, when my Sunday New York Times arrived this morning and the front page of the magazine was a special issue entitled, "Voyages" with a homage to pilgrimages around the world...I was in love.

The first narrative juxtaposed to the gorgeous photo on the front cover is "My Debt to Ireland," a magical piece that takes you back to James Joyce and makes you long for sheep wool and a Guinness.

Another one on the ensuing art world in Istanbul made me nostalgic for my travels to Turkey in undergrad.

The essay on a tree in the urban concrete jungles of New York City encouraged me to reach out to a friend out east to see if I could cop a squat on their couch...I still can't believe that I've never been to Central Park.

But most powerfully, and probably because of my love of all things literary, was the piece written about an animated tour done in England reenacting the time period of Charles Dickens right down to the smell of rotten cabbage.

I'm convinced that travel is good for the soul.  It jolts you out of your comfort zone and engages you with a fresh set of eyes, ears and of course builds lasting memories.

I am still resolute that my money and energies will be spent trying to get to Italy first...but in the interim, and especially on a cold winter's day in Omaha, Nebraska, I'll be dreaming of packing my suitcase.