Windows of opportunity

"I need to be home when they get back or I'll miss my window."

Last summer, my cousin was explaining why she would need to leave our family gathering a bit early. Her husband and 13-year-old son would be returning from a week-long boy scout camp, and she wanted to be there when they arrived.

But what was the window she was referring to?

She explained. Her son, like most adolescent boys, doesn't relish giving her long detailed accounts of anything. However, she knew he would be most excited and willing to talk right when he got home. Wait a few hours and he would be immersed in his video games or out with friends and back in his normal life. Camp would already be a dim memory. That time right when he arrived home was her window of opportunity to connect with her son.

Thanks, Joan, for your explanation on windows. Harrison and Laurel are coming back from camp today. I want to meet them at the bus so I can hear all about it.

Locker room talk and REO

Before the concert Tuesday night, my husband's friend asked me where I was back in the day of REO Speedwagon, so I told him my favorite memory of the band's music.

I was in the middle school locker room, changing after 6th grade P.E. (I don't think any of us showered, and that's not the point of this blog. Sorry, guys). Someone had shared a piece of juicy gossip and I belted out, in my best REO "Take it on the Run" imitation, "I don't believe it, not for a minute!"

That got a big laugh.

Getting big laughs INTENTIONALLY in a 6th grade locker room: priceless.

Finding a clever way to steer conversation away from damaging gossip: also priceless.

And memorable, even 31 years later.

Writer's High

I've heard that sometimes runners will experience a brief euphoria called a "runner's high." I've run two marathons, three half marathons, dozens of 10Ks, and miles and miles of training runs, and I can't say for certain that I've ever come close to feelings of elation--except, of course, when I finished.

I have, however, experienced "writer's high."

When I've been working on an article or column and just the right word clicks into place, I get excited. When I come up with a clever twist of a phrase, I laugh, even though it's my own joke. When someone tells me they read my article, I'm pleased. When someone adds a clever comment that shows we really connected, I get a boost that can last for hours.

In college, I loved the day "The Tabor College View" hit the mailboxes. Students everywhere had the four-page newspaper in their hands and were reading the results of our late-night efforts. I took note of the ones who I could tell were on page 2, bottom right. They were reading my column! I floated through my classes.

One time a Christian band who performed on campus used one of my stories for a local angle to the point he was making. Ecstasy!

Blogs are wonderful because I can get comments in minutes. Throughout the day, I can check to see how many hits I've gotten. People are reading my stuff!

However, deadlines are wonderful, because they force you to actually sit down and get something written. Since my blog is simply for fun, I've gone further and further between posts.

I've run consistently for the past five years, and I've said many time that never would have happened if I hadn't had Kristen, my running partner. We've set up a schedule and adjusted it through the years. When my alarm goes off at 6 a.m., I get up, because I know she will soon be on her porch waiting for me (if it's a Monday or Tuesday), or she will show up on mine (Thursday). Neither one of us wants to be the one to text "I can't make it today."

However, I'm having to lay off for a while. On our first regular training run after the April 29 half-marathon, my hamstring tightened up, and it's been giving me trouble ever since.

So, right now while she is running, I am writing, exercising my fingers and brain instead of my heart and lungs. And searching for that elusive high.