My posting is a little delayed, not because I've lost motivation exactly (I've had two or three good runs since my last post), but because we've adopted a new addition into our home, and she's very hard to ignore when you come in from a run. (Mike named her after this penguin ). This is our Cookie:
Well, to be fair, this was Cookie last Friday, when she was all about hiding in our bookcases. 4 days later, she's much more interested in running around our 2 bedroom apartment like a little maniac.
She's only 6 weeks old and therefore too young technically, to be adopted by us, however her mother disappeared 3 days before we picked her up, so there wasn't much support in her original home either. I just hope she'll develop properly despite this. Because of this then, I spend an inordinate amount of time coddling and cooing at her.
However, yesterday I took an evening run around 5pm - it was cool, but bright despite a little cloud cover. It was June 20, yesterday, making today the first day of summer.
June 20, 5:11p.m.-5:39 p.m. (28 minutes), 244 calories, 3.76 km
Walking briskly up Putnam, I saw two elderly people help each other get out of a car. Though the woman looked slightly younger than the man, they were both well up in their 70s, and more likely in their young 80s. The man carried a walker in his arms, but actually walked fairly well. The woman got back in the driver's seat on her own, at which point I noticed a much older woman in the back seat. She was small, like a child, so at first I hadn't even seen her there. As I ran past the words on the car became clearer: this is a driving service for the elderly. The youngest woman, still easily in over 75, must be driving these other people home. I thought a few things about this as I carried on: most obviously, this must be the future. I should get used to thinking about my 55 year old parents caring for their 80-year old parents, and realizing that my generation and I will certainly be 70 year olds caring for our 90 year old parents. It's a medical miracle that our parents will live so long, and that these single people can equally live on, and continue to care for each other. But the second thing I thought was how scary it is that the elderly will be burdened with the need to take care of each other because at this point there is nothing else in place. I worry, under the current regime, that there won't be anytime soon. I know we're healthier longer, for the most part, and my own parents are a good example of that. I recognize the compassion and kindness of these people in the car, caring for each other, and I hope it will be the rule rather than the exception, but not in that generation alone. I hope my own generation will be able to care with sincerity. I hope I will remember this when it is my turn. I hope I will be brave enough to recognize my turn.
Because my brain is all cat-oriented these days, I noticed the two grown shorthairs on Dufferin, digging under the governor general's fence. They were collared and jingling, but had clearly killed something in cooperation. They were no longer exactly cooperating, and the white one carried something away with it through a hole in the heavy, ornate fence, into the restricted lawns and woods of the estate. It seemed odd somehow that that would be possible, but I thought about what keeps me from those woods, and realize it's a very Canadian honor system. I abide by a sign that politely asks the public to keep to the first two thirds of the estate, and not to explore behind the estate house itself. Given that Will and Kate will in all likelihood be visiting this place and perhaps spending a night or two in that very house, I find it hard to reconcile this hole in the fence with the precautions taken all around the world. I feel a lot of gratitude about this, and carry on.
It's 10 minutes later, when I'm running through Stanley park, where there is a children's playground, that I realize I left something out of my project. I consistently ignore children, avoiding eye contact, trying not to engage with them because I don't know what to do about it. I used to do this with dogs. I don't treat children like people. But I will try, now, to do better. I also see two children jogging. This doesn't seem right. Shouldn't they run to play - like Cookie? I worry they are thinking about thighs and pace. I think about thighs and pace, and try to think about playing instead.
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