Needle In The Haystack

It is probably a surprise to nobody, but I have a hard time sitting still. So does Matthew. This is why we work during the day and spend our evenings cleaning house, gardening, writing freelance articles, butchering chickens, and filling every spare moment with something. Many of the somethings include afternoons at the beach with the kids, yes, but if you have kids and have ever taken them to the beach, it’s not exactly relaxing. Standing guard to make sure they don’t drown, fielding their requests to throw them into the water, handing out snacks and ALL OF THE THINGS.

We spent this past week at Cannon Beach on the Oregon Coast, as we have the past three years. I went into the week thinking that I would do SO MUCH and then … I gave myself the freedom to just. Not.

Our days had a great rhythm. We would wake up, cook a big breakfast of pancakes or French toast, with the obvious side of bacon. And coffee. Oh, Sleepy Monk coffee. We love you.

I went for a run every morning we were there. There’s something about running along the beach while breathing ocean air which makes it seem almost effortless when compared to running and breathing the desert air I’m used to.

This did not apply on the last day. For my fifth day straight of running (I missed Boot Camp SO MUCH)(Really), I was sucking wind. Literally and in every which way but loose. I wanted to run another 8K, but 6K it was.

(I know that it sounds so … pompous? To say that I ‘only’ ran a 5K or 6K run? (Insert Canadian inflection, here.) I don’t mean for it to sound that way. I’ve been back to running for three years now, after a few years away from it, and I had to slog my way through the Couch to 5K and the bridge to 10K. I do not have a runner’s body, and I do not love the act of running itself, but I do it for the health benefits. I have trained long enough that I can (somewhat) easily run for 5-8K. 5K is my ‘easy’ day.)

(All this to say that if you are new to running, stick with it. If I can do it, you can. Promise.)

While I was off pounding sand (Ha!), the kids would watch American TV/color/read. Matthew would answer work emails and read. When I returned, I’d get cleaned up, we’d have lunch, and then head to the beach or somewhere else. In past years, we would only stay for four nights, but this year, we stayed for six nights. SIX NIGHTS. What made it even better is that for two of those nights, we ate out at a restaurant. I love to meal plan, and I love to cook, but eating out is something special.

Aside from running and beaching and eating, we just were. We walked and we talked and we built sandcastles (or sand Ogopogos) and we ate Tillamook cheese and we read books and we picked up seashells and we made s’mores and we watched the sunset. We did everything and nothing. That is what vacation is all about.

Our vacation was as great as we knew it would be, but coming home was even better. As it should be. There really is no place like home.

(More ‘big camera’ (and iPhone) photos on Flickr)(Even more when I have some time to go through them.)

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