Musing and Running

For those of you living under a rock, I've recently (well, since Easter) started training for a half-marathon. Why? Because I'm a sucker. My sister told me to, and I said ok. Seriously. That's all it took.

So, three nights a week, I hit the sidewalks in an ever-widening route around my house and try to improve my endurance and pace. I have an app on my iPhone that tells me when to run and walk, and I listen to my iTunes for upbeat music or an intriguing book. But sometimes, I am ill-prepared and my battery dies prematurely. Which sucks. So my mind wanders.

My route meanders through Overland Park and Prairie Village. Now, Overland Park used to be THE place to live. That distinction has now drifted east and north to Prairie Village. And no one's really interested in taking the title back.

Don't get me wrong, Overland Park is an excellent neighborhood. It's safe and clean and pleasant. Here's the difference. I saw a sign that proudly proclaimed:

Prairie Village Homes' Assoc

HOME OF THE

MONTH

Wow. And my first thought was, "I bet they've had that honor a few months in a row. Heh, heh, heh." But then I looked around. And that neighborhood was pristine. Like, they would kick us and our unruly children out. Swimsuits on the clothesline? I think not! Bikes on the patio? Disgusting! Grass not mowed four times a week in a rotating pattern with a highly maintained machine? The horror! I sped up a little. I was nowhere near dressed appropriately to be running through Prairie Village that evening.

My favorite night to run on? Trash night. I just love dodging ginormous trash cans, swarming with flies and sucking in that smell that can only come from a trash can. Love it. One time, I almost threw up. Speaking of smells, there's that house that you can tell is cleaned obsessively, as it smells like fresh laundry. From the sidewalk. Poor woman.

Then there's the house with the overgrown yard, no landscaping to speak of and no personality. And there in the driveway is a shiny, new truck that you know is someone's baby. That's a young homeowner.

The house with a perfectly manicured lawn, nurtured landscaping and artful additions to the house. Haphazardly parked in the driveway is a land boat that is no one's baby. That's an old homeowner.

With all this judgement, I wonder, what do people think of me based on my house? With it's overgrown lawn, toys strewn about, unwashed vehicles and overgrown landscaping. Hopefully, they see a family with active, little ones and therefore no spare time. They see a Daddy that spends time playing with his kiddos instead of obsessing over the lawn. They see......

Ok, ok. We need to spend a little more time in the yard.

I'll get Branden right on that.