Earlier that morning, but not early enough to have missed the hot morning breath of summer, we met LB who was up building bouquets and wearing floral for a dear friend's wedding (See: BLACK FOREST LODGE). I like getting her, a lot, perfectly sweet, a bounce of bright blonde hair, a lot of laughter & understanding. The three of us each did a workout tailored to our needs, beginning on railroad trail which has evoked Fall more closely than any other pocket in Bellingham - the ground covered in leaves and the smell of baked blackberries. We did it, finished, showered. I made a weird protein smoothie, pretending I'm like some pinterest success story, with coffee grounds, chocolate protein, frozen bananas and coconut milk. Got a call from the shop that the Focus would not be safe to drive to Entiat, accruing a list of to-do's, thus we piled in the food, brewskies, towels & running gear into Ber's car and headed South to spend a night at Aly's A-frame down there past Rocky Reach Dam.
Aly had organized the team trip months before. I dbl-booked and had a wedding planted in the middle. Ber was on the same page as I; we had the joy of one another in a back-and-forth, non-air-conditioned drive. It was like feeling young again, and Yes's meant Yes's despite the discomfort & beers are colder & you feel powerful and sweaty and on the come up. We stopped in Leavenworth for lunch & to cool the hot damp from between our legs. I had a bratwurst/hamburger hybrid on a pretzel bun with sauerkraut and a fuzzy navel beer. Driving in through the confluence of the Entiat and Columbia rivers, where the water reservoirs against the eastern foothills of the cascades, we fell from the car in a bloom of sweat, piled our simple belongings into her parent's gorgeous home and cracked back the satisfying snap of beer. Aly's father is unknowingly my anal retentive guru. How the insides of his fridge looks, how his garage is organized. It's like, who I am when I try. Each thing I set down, I thought of him.
We had that great fiberglassass time with Aly before the others arrived, dangling our legs into the cold water, watching schools of fish and the long handed sway of green kelp beds. I cannot not think of arms reaching through the muck, finally released from the kelp, a dead hand tickling my toes, when I get in any water. And it was in thinking of such a tickling that it took me forever to finally, Jump. Goosepimpled glory. A cold I had not felt in a long time. It made me feel like a better person. As they laughed at how I swim.
Sitting around, snacking on the ever-relished foodstuffs of Nikki, talking about commitment and the development of them; how they happen whether we know or not. Compiled a fajita station line, limes in beer, all the fresh cut up vegetables and fart-tastic fibers. Fell asleep like lumps in a line on the deck, under the bright stars & the blue moon, to the sound of the light waves lipping the sand, to the hum of conversation in neighboring homes, thick in dreams and sleeplessness, waking to the dogs' thrill in wildlife night chases. Creaky in the morning.
Aly made us espressos, which we had over overnight oats and lemon poppyseed muffs, because Nikki, because she knows how to make you feel good. Because they all do. Pulled the little shorts over the sting, laced up, packed up, and we drove into Wenatchee to run the circle of Confluence State Park - the tradition of the birthday miles, now run in k's, because I'm old balls. I'm perched up in the back in the middle of the 28k admiring my friendz' bodies. Such incredible bodies for what we do, what we've done, for sleeping on decks, for over-drinking or under-drinking. For never stopping. It was brevitous & worthful. Dunking in that chill one last time before the ride home, to a Bow wedding while the rest of 'em water-skied and cliff-jumped and got to be a mixed bag of life and running.
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