Mountains and Miles

This weekend, I drove from Tulsa, OK to Urbana, Illinois to celebrate the 40th birthday of my dear friend Kristin, whom I met 20 years ago. We met at the Jersey shore in the summer of 1990. We were hippie Christian college kids with our worlds before us. During that intense summer living in community with a dozen or so other students, studying our faith in an academic but delightfully fun environment, it was only natural that enduring friendships would spring up. One like ours.

Our friendship continued while she finished school in Michigan and I finished school in Pennsylvania. Our lives crisscrossed the Eastern side of the country as we married and birthed babies and moved to where the jobs were. In a conversation, back in the day, we talked about how we were always connected, over mountains and miles.

We are still separated by miles and mountains. But when her sweet husband asked me to come in for the party, I knew I wouldn't miss it. I met so many fantastic people: Lorna, Dorie, Rebecca, Jubal, Renee, Havah, Rachel, Becca, Paige, Lawrence...the list goes on. Kristin and I did exactly what we needed to do. We talked. Over gorgeous meals, in the car, in the dining room, in two cafes and one bakery, in the mall, at the door, in the kitchen, on the stairs... a blur of voices tripping over each other, urgent at times to get it all out, slow and pensive at others, reaching for understanding.

I have so many thoughts to process from this trip it can't all be summarized here. We talked a lot about friendship, real, true, fast adult friendship. The kind that happens organically and strikes deep roots. Kristin explained how some deep friendships had met rocky, unsatisfying ends. She talked about a few relationships whose fragile buds were still getting used to the idea of spring. There was a sense of the inevitability of shifting lives and friendships that can leave us feeling unmoored.

But at her party, looking around the room full of diverse, truly interesting people, I saw how deeply she is loved.

Here is a woman who knows how to connect, to choose her friends wisely and well, to find what she needs and be what others need. She laughed, and hugged, and talked some more. Through all the curves our lives have taken, this could have been one of those disposable friendships of youth. It isn't. We still connect, are still connected, across mountains and miles. I am honored to have celebrated a big day with my dear, "old" friend.

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

In my life long battle of the growing and shrinking belly, I have done my fair share of workouts. It ebbs and flows with the pace of my life; I've never been a terribly gung-ho gym rat. After training for (and not running in) a 15k in October (thank you dear Ellen), I took some time to well, to sit on my hiney.

The effort to get back on the fit horse is daunting because really, who has the time? After completing the five alarm drill of getting the kids out the door, tidying up the clutter, and prepping for work days, I am barely motivated to stand much less make my legs move quickly and start to sweat.

Also, I'm cheap and I despise the idea of paying for gym membership.

In passing I picked up a booklet that listed all the offerings at the Tulsa County Parks. Less than a mile from my house there is a park center with a fitness center and it is open during reasonable people hours. And it's totally cheap. I bought myself a twenty visit pass and went after it. This will be a fun adventure.

The kind man at the desk said that MWF between 7:30 and 9 are the busiest times. Of course that's when I can go. What he didn't tell me was that this was the blue haired workout club. Yes, I was the youngest gal in the room, by a good three decades.

At first I was nervous and felt a little awkward, what with the lycra and the failure of my ipod to charge. But once I started my elliptical training, (yes, training, this is serious), I could listen to their talk and watch them in the full length of the room mirror. (And what is with those?)

One group of men near me were discussing the Super Bowl. This interests me as I love football and I LOVE the Steelers, who are in the big game this year. They must be coaches or former coaches because they were talking about packages and plays and x's and o's. Another man in his bald later years was actually strutting about with his muscle shirt and weight lifting belt. Then there was the precious woman in her matching pink sweatsuit and blue eyeshadow who came to bless me with "health and abundance." I blurted a thank you to her her through my gasps for air.

Finally, a rather large older man climbed aboard the treadmill near me. He started walking and was barely upright as his forearms rested on the handles. In the supremacy of youth I felt smug and fit and young and vibrant. The smugness wore off.

Walking in there was like entering the gym version of Cheers. They all knew each other so there was this light banter and cheerfulness. I could get used to that. I expected to be the new girl working off her Christmas in her thrown together sweats and coffee breath amid the perky cutie-pies in their matching sets.

I won't be dyeing my hair blue but I think I like this place. The more time I spend writing these posts, the more I am seeing community just about everywhere. Why does that surprise me?

As a side note, if you live in Tulsa, you must go here to check out the fabulous classes being offered around our city this spring.
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