To be, to have, to think, to move — which of these verbs is the one you feel most connected to? Or is there another verb that characterizes you better?
I’ve decided to spend the next ten minutes writing. It’s part of WordPress’ Daily Post Challenge. I have to write anything I want, but I have to do it for ten minutes.
Nine minutes to go. I’ve just finished my lunch, reflecting on the afternoon ahead of me. There are a few interesting folks coming to see me. I called one young woman in because she has an STI (sexually transmitted infection). It’s the second one she’s had in 6 months. She admits she’s not using condoms (really? I would never have guessed!), and I really hope this time she’ll take my advice more seriously.
Seven minutes left. Ten minutes is a long time. I’ve started running 10:1 (run:walk) intervals and it can sometimes feel like an eternity. I am finding though that it’s getting easier and easier. I am working my way towards being able to run for a solid 30-45 minutes and to do this I am introducing something called the fartlek. It’s a Swedish term for “speed play”. By running, or sprinting, for a specific time (say, 30 seconds) or distance (say, to that hydrant, or 100 m), it trains muscles to work harder and lung capacity to increase. After a few runs this week where I have incorporated fartleks, I can already feel my stamina improving.
Five minutes left. That’s how long it took for me to realize that she was going to be a friend for life. We had only ever met as acquaintances but one day, I invited her over for drinks with her husband, and we hit it off immensely. That was a few years ago, and today she has reached a birthday milestone. I think she’ll be reading this later, so I wanted to wish her, again, a most wonderful birthday. The best, my friend, is yet to come.
Three minutes left. This morning, my baby woke up happy and talking up a storm. Most of it is still gibberish, but he has started saying “Momma” and “Mommy” a lot more and is even pointing at me when he says it. It isn’t the first time a child has called me Mommy, but damn if it doesn’t still feel so utterly special and thrilling to hear it again from this little boy.
One minute left. Wow, that wasn’t hard to do at all. Thank you, Daily Post!