Six Weeks to Post time

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May 1st. May Day. It'll be here in six weeks. This year, 2011, it holds a special event for me. No, I will not be dancing around a pole. That's something I've never done. When I was a child, I tightrope walked across my mother's clothesline. And I once escaped a house by climbing out a third story window, and walking across the hydro line. When I stepped off the hydro line, it acted like a rubber band, and flung me backwards. I was alright. My favourite event of all was with my friend, Larry. Let me first tell you about Larry.

I've never been into crime, in spite of my unconventional ways. Larry, however, has spent time in Millbrook. We lived in the same rooming house. It was as though it was my house, b/c people would come and go, but I stayed and rented the attic. At the end of Larry's stay, the OPP visited me and showed me a handmade map that said 'Sue's House'. They wanted to know if I had ever seen it. My look of shock must've convinced them of my innocence.

Anyway, I like to meet all kinds of people and Larry was always a gentleman, with whom I felt safe. His habit was to walk into people's homes while they were there, and steal. I don't agree with it, but I can relate to the thrill seeking behaviour. We lived in Peterborough, Ontario which is famous for the Festival of Lights. It's kind of cool. The sailboats are ornamented with lights, and classical music is played while the boats waltz. Larry and I drank a bit of lemon gin, which in and of itself is fine, but should not be taken straight. I'm guessing it was Larry's idea to watch the show from the top of a seven foot train bridge. We climbed up and sat in the middle, waiting for the show to start. And that's when I experienced the favourite event of my life. A train came toward us. There was nowhere for us to go. If we jumped down, we would've ended up in the water. As it happened, I was the one closest to the oncoming train. It was awesome.

I could feel the bridge vibrating underneath me, and the train advanced ever so slowly...the conductor was so ticked off. After that, we watched the boats waltzing on the water, and the closing presentation of fireworks. Then, we walked home. All the excitement finally caught up with me. It was Larry, the former prisoner, who kept me from sleeping on the beautiful green grass of my neighbour's lawn. That was pretty admirable of him. I was adamant that it was the best place for me, but he never gave up on me.

This next event will probably not be as exciting. As far as I know, it doesn't involve any ex-cons. Or trains. 'It' is the Sudbury Marathon. My first marathon was run in 2004. Over the past seven years, I've experienced post race depression. That's when it feels as though there is nothing worthwhile left to complete. Speaking chronologically, I have also not been able to hold a permanent full time job. I've relocated to a place where I know no one, and I have put on fifteen pounds. Hardly comparable to that moment where I sat with nowhere to go, watching a train come towards me. Then again...