The Writing on the Street

“You have been weighed in the balance and have been found wanting.”
Daniel 5:27


“Gulp.”
Mommy


Less than 48 hours until the marathon.

Mene mene tekel parsin. This was the writing on the wall that appeared in the Persian palace at the time of Belshazzar. Daniel is the one who interpreted the meaning of the writing. I am named after this ancient sage and well, great minds think alike. I’ve been quoting this to mommy in the last few days as the writing on the street has ominously appeared in various locations around Jerusalem. Will mommy be found “wanting” during this run? Let’s not dwell on that. 


(P.S. Check out my new poll! Voting must be done before the race if your opinion is to count :))


The writing to which I refer is the kilometer markers for the marathon. We’ve been seeing the markers for the past two weeks, eerily laying out mommy’s fate for March 25. She will be near our own apartment at 14 kilometers and then leaving the area at 21 kilometers, exactly halfway through her run. Gulp.


I know my training is going to kick in with aplomb, however. My long-run training has involved leaving the apartment, being placed in my stroller and navigating the way as abba strolls me to meet mommy. I’m a pro. Although the weather may present a challenge. Abba and I haven’t trained in the cold and rain and that is forecasted as 40 percent likely. 


This brings up a new concept I am learning in my young life: relativism. Apparently the idea of a perfect day has different definitions according to each person and time. While abba and I are looking for the return or our faux summer days, mommy is okay with the cold and rain.


Another relativism - Mommy runs in miles, because there are fewer than kilometers, but the race is measured in the metric system. The question I have is whether I will be a metric person or a typical American. My mother is American so metric baffles her, but Abba and the rest of the country (and world for that matter) relate in metric and Celsius. Maybe I’ll be fluent in both. For now I’m just confused.


Anyhow, it will give mommy something to do while running - converting kilometers to miles and then figuring out  minutes per mile. If you run for upwards of four hours, even math can be exciting I guess. 

Unsuspecting but cognizant that something was about to go wrong.

Here is another relativism: This is supposed to be good for me. A shot to inoculate me against RSV. I don’t know if the means justifies the end in this case. Ouch!

Not nice.

Completely uncalled for.

We made our last visit (ever I hope) to the clinic where I get my RSV. On the brighter side, we were accompanied by the gracious and courageous U.S. Sgt. Jason Everett who is in Jerusalem simply to run the half marathon. He took his leave from tour of duty near Kabul to coincide with this race. Almost as odd as mommy who is running her first marathon. Nevertheless, he is very cool, and I’ll probably be spending a lot of time getting to know him waiting at the finish line for mommy. Ho hum.


Yet another relativism: We are carbo-loading this week - mommy’s dream come true and abba’s worst nightmare. Mommy = Italian and loves pasta and bread. Abba = meat eater and does not consider a meal complete if there wasn’t meat nearby. So the line-up this week is: Sunday - pasta; Monday - Thai noodles; Tuesday: pasta (and steak, courtesy of Tony’s cravings); Wednesday - risotto con funghi; Thursday - pasta. No Atkins in this apartment this week although abba did manage to sneak in some steak!

Risotto con funghi, made by abba under
supervision of mommy as I ate my dinner

This diet is taking its toll on all of us about now. After a couple of days of withholding, I took an apocalyptic dump today rivaling world events.


Speaking of apocalyptic events, in case you were wondering, the news coming from Jerusalem today will not affect the race. The show will go on.

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