|
Winspeed Stretches
Sheri Bedford
November 1, 1999
"You can't attack me for having a plan," Betsy Winspeed's
blue eyes
flashed with annoyance.
"Well, you're always telling me just what you're going to do in
the next
few minutes, days, weeks…You plan too much!" Daisy Idlewood was just as
miffed. She had known Betsy for years. Her friend had always seemed the
docile middle class housewife until her husband had died. Now Betsy
seemed to be a different woman. It was disturbing.
"At this time in your life, you need to be more relaxed…laid
back, as
they say."
"Honestly, Daisy, I never knew you to be so unfocused before. You
have a
lot of time on your hands and you're trying to make me use time your
way…I won't do it…That's not me. I need a plan to accomplish my goal."
Betsy leaned over and finished tying her running shoe. It was blue,
green
and yellow, matching today's spandex ensemble. She was going out to run
ten miles on the beach and Betsy figured she may as well blend in with
all the colorful tourist swimsuits there.
"Betsy, we're women of a certain age. People in our category don't
run
mountains, scuba dive, learn trapeze…Women like us certainly don't go out
on the beach to run ten miles in rainbow lycra!"
"If I want to achieve my goal, I need to have a clear plan and
implement
it," Betsy stood up, her chin jutted out. She surveyed her outfit in the
hall mirror while, at the kitchen table, Daisy continued to sip her cup
of coffee in a disapproving way.
"Part of that plan involves wearing the appropriate attire for
running
long distances…For me that means spandex. It keeps my legs warm while I'm
running and…" Here Betsy smiled her warm blue-eyed smile, "… it stops
them from wobbling too much."
"Honestly, Betsy!" Daisy rolled her eyes. She wouldn't be
caught dead in
spandex. Her plump figure was heavily swathed in a flower print. She was
content to shop and eat in her comfortable flowing outfits.
"Well, I'm ready to go. You want to come sit on the beach and read
while
I run?" Betsy invited.
"No, I have some shopping to do." Daisy stood up and rinsed
her cup out
at the kitchen sink. "I'll see you later." She gathered up her roomy,
straw purse and went out the front door as Betsy pulled on her
windbreaker and closed the door behind her.
"OK, Daisy…call me."
At the beach Betsy shed her windbreaker, piling it on top of the other
sports equipment in the trunk of her convertible.
"I don't know why Daisy thinks I've changed so much…I've
always been a
planner, long-range and short-range. I don't think I'm tied up by
planning. I find it a freeing experience to have a goal, devise a plan,
and then put it into practice."
Betsy started jogging slowly, watching the pelicans skim effortlessly a
foot above the surface of the wavelets. The breeze was gentle; the day,
cool for Florida. A perfect day for a long run on the beach.
"I want to finish the half-marathon with strength and a consistent
pace…That's my goal. Why doesn't Daisy understand that women in their
60's are not yet dead? We can participate in strenuous physical exercise
along with the younger folks. We're still alive and active…Why should I
knuckle under to someone else's view of what a 60-something woman should
be? I'm me and proud of it!" Betsy picked up her pace a little with this
thought. She pumped her arms a bit. Her breath came a little faster.
"Steady, girl," she warned herself. "You have seven more
miles to go
here. Don't get too excited. Keep the pace."
Betsy was planning to run the Disney Half-Marathon in January. Her
millennium accomplishment. It would be her longest distance since she had
started running.
"I want to keep pushing the envelope…Is that the right
expression?" She
wondered to herself. "To me that means that I'm going to keep expanding
my horizons. I don't want to become static. I definitely don't want to
become a stereotypical retiree, using shopping and lunching as my
recreation. I want to be alive…move…think…and plan."
Betsy felt rather defensive.
"It IS OK to plan isn't it?" She asked herself as she made a
U-turn at
the end of the beach and started her way north again. "Maybe if I was
taken over by planning, or used it as a crutch or a security blanket,
that wouldn't be right. But all I'm doing is outlining my workout
schedule in order to achieve my specific goal of finishing the
half-marathon…That's certainly OK." She checked herself mentally. Was it?
"Of course nothing is written in stone…If I want to change
something I
can…Can't I?…Wouldn't I?"
Betsy started to think carefully about this. In the time she had, three
months, Betsy had worked out a schedule. She had planned to do 25 miles
a week, including one ten-to-twelve miler. She had followed this
faithfully, not allowing dinner parties, personal errands, house projects
or anything else get in the way. Had she become too rigid? Was she
letting her running schedule dictate her life and feelings?
She jogged on quietly for awhile, allowing her thoughts to skim along
like the pelicans. Maybe she did need to loosen up a bit.
"I guess it wouldn't hurt me to go shopping with Daisy every now
and
then. I don't have to be inflexible…and judgmental. I'm defending a
planned workout schedule…Am I also defending filling up every moment so I
don't have time to consider what's really going on in my life?" Betsy
stopped.
She had arrived at the parking lot. She stood still and inhaled deeply,
stretching her hands over her head and leaning back to gaze at the blue
sky. There was a lot of space up there. Space…and time.
"I have enough time," she decided. "Time to plan, time
to do, time to
focus on what's really important in my life at this moment…."
She paused, breathed, and began to stretch.
Copyright © 1999 Sheri Bedford
|