On the Bike Path
Early one morning last week, I ran on the quiet bike path over by the town border with Cambridge. My stale legs refused to commit to tempo pace. I willed my breath steady and fixed my gaze straight into the western sky before me; dawn broke along the horizon, illuminating the commuter rail train tracks parallel to the nicely-pathed path. On the iPod Shuffle played this moment’s favorite song, Adrianne Kenker’s mellow and joyful “symbol”:
As I stared into the clear cold dawn, directly in my focal point materialized a shooting star: an initial blaze of white light, followed by a searing twinkle that descended to the horizon in a gentle arc, sparkling madly along the way. I have seen more than a few shooting stars in the past, but this by far the sparkliest. And I was staring directly at it.
It was such as intense and magnificent thing to see. It was also so fleeting.
As I jogged home, daylight came quickly and morning traffic was picking up. There was a time, not even two years ago, when I’d do an extra .7 mile loop around the high school pond on the way back from the bike path, so I’d have an even 8 miles total. But, I had already gotten what I needed from my morning run and wanted to go home to start my day.
As I ate breakfast (my standard weekday eggs/spinach scramble with white toast and butter slab), I posted my run on Strava and scrolled through my Strava feed. A runner in New Hampshire who I follow had also posted his morning run, and titled it “Saw two shooting stars.” This dispelled my fears that what I had seen was just falling space junk; it was a legitimate cosmic experience, and a reminder of nature’s ephemeralness.
Not So Little
Little Boy has been 10 years old for awhile now. He amazes me about once a day. Mostly, in a good way. He is artistic, athletic, and musical. He likes math over reading/writing, thrives in group situations, and has a silly sense of humor. These days, he can be moody — I can literally smell pre-teen seeping out of his skin — but he still has moments of incredible sweetness and empathy.
When I look back on Little Boy’s childhood and his journey to 5th grade, parts of it seem just as fleeting as the shooting star on the bike path. I have these bright, brilliant, flashing memories of him when he was younger:
Reading picture books to him with jacked-up inflection and excited expression, only for him to ignore all my words because he was so absorbed in the illustrations, noticing every little detail and occasionally pointing out mistakes.
Taking him on nature walks and making games out of throwing pine cones and hiding behind trees… anything to motivate him towards forward progress!
Buying him Lego kits that he’d sit in his room for hours assembling, content as can be… so I could clean the house, likewise content in his contentness.
Soccer games when he was in Kindergarten… This year, he started refereeing soccer for younger kids. He gets paid ten dollars a game — his first real job! Watching him run alongside the Kindergarteners as they ran after the ball in a herd is so pleasing, a real reminder of how much he’s grown and matured.
Reffing the Kindergarten soccer herd
I am at a point in my life where I’m more interested in helping Little Boy achieve his dreams than I am in achieving my own dreams. When he was younger, I used to think that when he got to be older, he’d be more independent, and I’d more time to do selfish things like train for 100 mile races, work on this blog, finish my graduate degree, even do some freelance writing to help set myself up for future work when I’m older and burnt out from my current career. But as he gets older, I’m actually doing less and less of those things, and spending more time with him.
His award-winning pumpkin dungeon, which won him a gift card through a school contest. So much fun to create!
There are so many moments that we can’t capture. But oh, how we would like to try!
Soccer Glory
Little Boy plays travel soccer with a town team; for the second year in a row, he made the A team. He’s pretty good at soccer, but I honestly don’t think he likes playing it all that much — not when I see how pumped up he is after playing basketball. But he plays soccer because many of his friends are on his team, and because he’s always played soccer. And he probably enjoys the positive reinforcement and praise.
Little Boy mostly plays defense, so he rarely gets into scoring position, but because of his speed, agility, and footwork, he’s a bit of a fan favorite in the parent’s section. Here’s just a taste of last week’s defense, in a crazy muddy field under persistent drizzle:
So I got that bit on film and I was pleased, and I stopped filming so I could put my hands in my pocket. Little Boy’s team was up 4 to 1 with three minutes left, and his coach subbed him into offense. The other team had pretty much given up, allowing one of Little Boy’s teammates (and good friend) to dribble up to the goal, then pass it to Little Boy, who was lurking on the left.
Little Boy smoothly kicked the ball and it arced magnificently over the goalie’s head and into the bottom right corner of the goal, bobbing in the net. GOOOOAAALLLL! It was incredible; after a year and a half of playing mostly defense, of contributing but never getting to score, he got a goal.
Normally, if a team is up 5 to 1, the parents do not really cheer… but all the parents on our team clapped, very happy for him. I wished so hard that I had been filming, but the goal had happened suddenly and was over just as fast. There are so many moments that we can’t capture.
