looking back, moving forward

Yesterday, my husband and I ran a half marathon at our alma mater, Rutgers University. I have now learned the hard way that a half marathon in the spring is not a good idea. Whatever my intentions, the poor weather and lambing schedule conspire against me, or at least handily defeat my pitiful level of motivation. I did finish, and I did not walk, but I am mighty sore today.

On the way to the starting line, on a Rutgers bus;

I estimate I spent at least two months of my life, possibly more, on such buses.

As we ran around (and around and around) scenes from our past lives, I had plenty of time for reflection. I ran past the buildings where I took physics and calculus and biology and all manner of other classes that I can't remember now. I ran past fields where I tailgated and/or watched soccer, and the stadium where I watched football (after the tailgating), and dorms where I visited friends and/or partied, and libraries where I studied (occasionally).

At the starting line on Busch campus; it was COLD.

Some of the students came out of their dorms to cheer us on, which was quite nice of them for a chilly Sunday morning, and I thought, I was once in their shoes. I was so sure of what the future held. And guess what? I really had no clue.

At the finish on College Ave, after a little less than two hours of running.

Amazingly, he is still with me despite my less-than-stellar attitude.

That could be a reference to the race or our marriage.

As we try to guide Primo as he contemplates his next move, into college, it bears remembering: the future insists on remaining a mystery wrapped in an enigma. Sometimes it goes more or less according to plan; my husband is a good example. He was pre-med when I met him our senior year of college. However, the path to medical school took a few detours, and the best psychic in the world couldn't have predicted that he would be delivering lambs during his lunch hour.

On the College Ave quad, after the race; 

I remember meeting him here after a class.

Sometimes, naming no names, you are still left trying to figure out what you are going to do with the rest of your life well into your (ahem) forties, as life carries you along like a cork bobbing down its stream. That may be OK, too. It might be enough to be curious about the world around you, to keep learning new skills, to keep trying new things and meeting new people and thinking about what happens next.

Either way, you still don't know what the future may hold. The best you can do is to keep moving forward, one foot in front of another. As it turns out, this is also a pretty good strategy for a half marathon.