Thursday, April 1, 2010


Six years ago this September, Shawn and I were in the Twin Cities in search of an apartment. We were married the previous May and I had just taken a job at Bolger and needed to find a place to live. By myself. That weekend was fun, adventurous and scary. Luckily I landed in charm ville, otherwise known as Cathedral Hill. Despite the happy ending, Shawn and I ventured into some interesting neighborhoods that day. We were done looking at a rather dull, cookie cutter, carpeted square when we decided to do a little sight seeing. Just down the road from this bland apartment emerged the loveliest park we'd ever seen. It had a lake, runners, walkers, dogs, a cafe, a golf course, a zoo, a place to rent paddle boats, a place where they play live music in the summer, a few docks, anglers and plenty of ducks and geese. I remember sitting on a small rocky "bluff" on the lake and fantasizing about Shawn and I living and making a life in this brand new state and maybe some day being near a great place like Como Park. Wouldn't you believe it, Ruggles Street stands one mere mile north of yes, Como Park. While my first and one of my fondest memories of becoming a Minnesotan circles around this haven, I now have a love/hate relationship with Como Park.

Case in point: Tuesday I took the day off work because Shawn is on spring break this week and frankly, the weather was forecast to be much too gorgeous to sit inside on a computer all day. So, I charged my iPods, cut up some fruit for a picnic and Shawn and I headed to Como Park.

Said iPods

Said fruit: grapes, strawberries and honeydew
After the iPods, before the fruit, yep, that's me there below. Welcome to the dark side of Como Park. The running. Shawn and I run around Como lake because if you circle it twice, it's exactly a 5K or 3.2 miles. Needless to say, I hadn't ran in a while and hadn't ran outside around the lake since last fall. I, was, spent. I managed to run the whole thing but not without chocolate regrets and headache consequences. I have run every day since and am reminded of that fact every time I take a step and tiny invisible creatures run at my quadriceps with ice picks and hammers and pretend they're in a drum line. Stairs? Impossible. I'm walking like a cowboy because I have to rock back and forth to put weight on my legs. My freshly pedicured feet are shot. Either my shoes are too small or I run kiddywampus because I'm rubbing my big right toe raw. To top it off, my face and especially my forehead is, well, kissed by the sun as they say. Funny I never pictured us participating in this part of the park that special day six years ago. I do love Como though. I suffer all this because of my love for Como Park. Well, that and because of my love for Oreos.
Me, or what's left of me.

1 comment:

  1. I miss Como park. I'm glad I read this entry about your first memories of becoming a Minnesotan. You get it, don't you? The "something" about the place that just eases into your heart and makes you whisper "home." I miss home. Mostly, I miss you. Love,me



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