Kat Tales

I love to run. I think that is a pretty well-known fact about me. I love early morning runs, zoning out and letting my legs carry me wherever they feel like going that day. I love the way my body shuffles to get going, waking up every fiber of my being and then easing into a graceful, effortless run—or so I feel I don’t know if my running looks graceful or effortless. I love watching the sunrise, watching the world come alive with color and knowing a whole new day waits to be lived. I like the early morning sweat of summer morning runs; no matter how early I rise to beat the heat I return to the house glistening. I love those occasional midday runs when I really want to work hard and sweat. I love to push my body to its limits. I love workout days just as much as everyday distance runs. I love to call upon energy and strength, pushing myself through intervals, hills, and tempos, leaving me exhausted, smiling and satisfied. I just don’t feel myself when I can’t get out for a run. Obviously I don’t understand why so many people hate running.

I’ve been waking up very early in Hawaii. My body is just a morning body, naturally waking up between 4:00-5:30am. Yes, that is a broad range, but it is the truth. This week I have been waking up at 4:10am, so what else is there to do at that hour except go for a cool run. In Boston I would probably the lone runner, but Hawaii is a morning state. I am still always shocked to see so many people walking, running, riding, and surfing so early in the morning. I always feel safe, and I frequent some of the same paths, so I see my morning run regulars, greeting each other with happy “Good mornings”. I almost revel in the fact that before 6:00am most mornings I have gotten in 8-10 miles. For some reason it makes me feel good, and it makes me feel like I am absolutely living my day to the fullest.

The other morning I ran by a couple of shady fellas–you get those on occasion but for the most part Honolulu is very safe in the morning; there always seem to be eyes watching and police driving by, so I never worry–maybe naively so, but even so I stick to the well-traversed roads. Anyhow I am pretty sure these guys were involved in some sort of shady business so I just told myself to quickly run by, so I started to pick it up a bit more and the group stopped, curiously watched me and then one guy yelled, “Where are you going?” I turned around to him, paused myself, thought about his question, and shrugged my shoulders and said, “I’m just running.”

I love running. Some people may say running is pointless—there is no goal, aim or purpose; you just run. Yes, and that is what I love about running. You just run. And you can do it anywhere and at anytime of the day because all you need is yourself and a pair of shoes—and I guess clothes but they don’t have to be running specific. It is not a technical sport–distance running anyways. You can decide how fast/slow you want to go each day. You just put one foot in front of the other and go. You just run. I love it.

This year marks some very big moments in the transition from careless childhood days to an adult life full of responsibilities, change and new opportunities. My baby sister, the youngest of five children, is graduating high school. When did she grow up? I remember the day she was born. It was a Sunday morning in August, and  my sisters, brother and I woke to find my uncle asleep in my parents’ bed. Macie was the first up, and she roused us all out of bed because she wanted to see her baby sister. Galand, Lael and I had been there done that, got the “big sister/brother” name badge, but still I remember the excitement of our new baby. And that is how Jaclyn was raised–she was ours, our baby.

But I remember when she was 2 or 3 and hated being called the baby. She would say, “I’m the big girl.” So, I started saying “I’m the baby.” And so she called me the baby until she was about 5 when she wanted to reclaim her title. Oh, how she would kick and scream if I uttered “I’m the baby.” She was starting to learn the perks of being the baby. But it wasn’t just because she was the baby that she had us all wrapped around her little finger. She had the biggest blue eyes and cutest, curliest hair that made you instantly love her. Now, I can hardly believe she is a 17 year-old young lady, stunningly beautiful and still with those gorgeous blue eyes.

Jaclyn had trouble with some words at first. She couldn’t say things quite right, and she would get very angry and annoyed when everyone cooed and awwed over her cute little mis-speaks. Germany was always Vermany, and since we lived in Germany from when she was about 1 to 6 years-old she always announced she went to “Verman School.” We would coach her by really innuciating “Geerrrrmany.” She would repeat, “Veerrrrmany.” No, GERmany. That’s what I am saying!! Tr’s as in truck were always said as an F which always got funny stares when she shouted she saw “(F)ucks.” S’s were always partnered with h’s so daddy’s daily sit-ups made us all laugh. She has grown out of all that to become a very poised and eloquent speaker. Who is this young lady who masquerades around as my baby sister? I still imagine her 5 or 6 years-old, frizzy, curly hair, making us all laugh.

I can’t believe it was more than 6 years ago Jaclyn came to spend a weekend with me at Gardner-Webb University in Boiling Springs, NC. Mommy, Daddy, Jaclyn and Macie were moving to Korea, so Jaclyn came to have a big girls night at college before leaving. Now, she is the college girl who will have her own dorm,  friends, and fun times. I’ve protectively  watched Jaclyn grow up, but I missed several years of her life. She was in Korea while I was in college, and now I will be in Boston while she is running and studying at Winthrop University in South Carolina. What I wouldn’t give to be there to watch her compete and grow, listening to all the new things she is learning and the people she has met. Thank goodness for skype, text, and email! Still there is something about physical presence that cannot be satisfied by any form of electronic communication. There are days when I just want to hug my baby sister, or tell her a bed time story that will have her laughing tears. I want to go out for a run with her, and hold her hand on roller coasters that scare me but thrill her. I want to be able to do the simplest of things with my sister, but we are growing up and in our mobile world today that often means moving apart.

Childhood days seemed to have slip by in a rush; time running away with precious memories that seem forever ago, yet present with me still as I refuse to grow up completely. If Jaclyn is going to college, how old does that make me?! I don’t want to think about it. I want to go back to cherish those days of Barbies, dress up, playgrounds, bunkbed tents and endless hours of pretend. I guess those days might be gone, but many new memories will be made, and even though we’re several states apart she will always be my baby sister I completely adore.