this link says it all
and don't forget to check out the related sites on that page as well, a big factor why i love bbc =)
mos of my tears tension and sweat were wrung out here, though, to close out my sunday afternoon *beams* i was especially active in the sets 3-5 entries, making some "friends" in the process, one of them a sampras fan and another a dutch girl who gave us blow by blow scores every freaking three seconds or so.
what a day!!!
*doc emer shared a wonderful photo of rafa's post-winning moment which i featured here
14.5.06
3.5.06
one foot in front of the other, over leaves and over bridges
more than a year has passed since i last ran laps around the oval at the sports centre. it was a time of starting an MA i can't bring myself to love, a time of getting pregnant with my second son and bringing him to the world in a miraculous VBAC delivery, a time of entering moments of calm and peace in my european adventure.
i've Never run cross-country. i've worn out a couple of cross trainers in my lifetime, too few to ever be considered a serious runner but still more than anyone with a sedentary lifestyle can ever have.
until today. batjay wrote about his brisk walking adventures in orange county over at blogkada and i tried to go the same route, only my way dove into the forest near the arenberg castle in heverlee just outside the ring of leuven, quiet in the middle of the morning under a gray sky. the track was muddy from the previous night's drizzle and i was afraid that any one of my footfalls would betray me and my ankle would crumple beneath me. in spite of the hush, spring's irrepressible energy was jumping from the tree branches and tiny yellow and white flowers growing wild on the forest floor.
more than one year of no physical exertion and my heart wanted to burst out of my chest. the football field next to alma 3 was a sea of undulating green grass, the goal posts reminding me fleetingly of the coming world cup on june 9th. (go brazil!!!)
i wanted to talk about moving on yet now that i'm seated in front of the computer screen, words fail me. words, the very things that define my career as an english teacher, the one thing i wield with confidence, yet they escape me now. right now, all i know about moving on is that sometimes, a rabbit has to run so that eagles will not take him for dinner. i can feel my whiskers twitching. i need to dive into my hole now.
happy birthday, andy.
i've Never run cross-country. i've worn out a couple of cross trainers in my lifetime, too few to ever be considered a serious runner but still more than anyone with a sedentary lifestyle can ever have.
until today. batjay wrote about his brisk walking adventures in orange county over at blogkada and i tried to go the same route, only my way dove into the forest near the arenberg castle in heverlee just outside the ring of leuven, quiet in the middle of the morning under a gray sky. the track was muddy from the previous night's drizzle and i was afraid that any one of my footfalls would betray me and my ankle would crumple beneath me. in spite of the hush, spring's irrepressible energy was jumping from the tree branches and tiny yellow and white flowers growing wild on the forest floor.
more than one year of no physical exertion and my heart wanted to burst out of my chest. the football field next to alma 3 was a sea of undulating green grass, the goal posts reminding me fleetingly of the coming world cup on june 9th. (go brazil!!!)
i wanted to talk about moving on yet now that i'm seated in front of the computer screen, words fail me. words, the very things that define my career as an english teacher, the one thing i wield with confidence, yet they escape me now. right now, all i know about moving on is that sometimes, a rabbit has to run so that eagles will not take him for dinner. i can feel my whiskers twitching. i need to dive into my hole now.
happy birthday, andy.
1.5.06
when poetry takes over
not only was langston hughes born in february, OUR month, but he wrote the following poem:
i remember reading this in my 7th grade textbook for language arts and i have never forgotten it since. the poem is light and gossamer, resting softly on my eyelids. when they flutter open, the poem vanishes, as did my friend.
then there is li po:
only this time my horse was on a modern platform in the middle of brussels and his steed was a red and silver train that would take him away from me yet again. how many times can one endure parting of this magnitude? i used to think that airports were the most lonely places in the world, especially when you were the one left behind. today i saw that beautiful modern train stations can be just as stark and lonely, if not more.
i had a friend:
he went away from me
there's nothing left to say
i had a friend:
i remember reading this in my 7th grade textbook for language arts and i have never forgotten it since. the poem is light and gossamer, resting softly on my eyelids. when they flutter open, the poem vanishes, as did my friend.
then there is li po:
Blue mountains lie beyond the north wall;
Round the city's eastern side flows the white water.
Here we part, friend, once forever.
You go ten thousand miles, drifting away
Like an unrooted water-grass.
Oh, the floating clouds and the thoughts of a wanderer!
Oh, the sunset and the longing of an old friend!
We ride away from each other, waving our hands,
While our horses neigh softly, softly . . . .
only this time my horse was on a modern platform in the middle of brussels and his steed was a red and silver train that would take him away from me yet again. how many times can one endure parting of this magnitude? i used to think that airports were the most lonely places in the world, especially when you were the one left behind. today i saw that beautiful modern train stations can be just as stark and lonely, if not more.
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