Well, my mom and sister have left, sigh, sigh. It was so great having them up here. I hadn't realized how much I had missed them.
Isn't my sister beautiful? She looks like a model.
In Seward, we went to Exit Glacier and did tourist stuff.
My mom's 76 and walked all the way up the mountain to the glacier--so proud of her!
My favorite thing, though, was running with my sister along the bay here in Seward. I can't begin to tell you how wonderful it was to run behind her, the waves crashing the shore, mountains in the background and our legs moving together. My sister and I are very different: She's big city, I'm rural Alaska; she wears designer clothes, I wear my son's old Nike sandals. Yet we share this love of running, and it's really a beautiful thing.
On the way back to the Anchorage airport, we stopped at Portage Glacier along Turnagain arm. I love, love, love the mountains around here, they are so green and lush.
We also got cozy with a famous bear.
And saw bears and moose and elk (oh my!) at the wildlife conservation area. This elk was fascinated by my sister, I think it was love at first sight.
After I saw my mother and sister's plane off (and all the tears!) I stocked up on foods I can't find in Seward, visited a friend and her cats and then drove back home in the twilight.
Here in Alaska, it never gets truly dark in the summer. Instead, the sky is bathed in a lavender-silver-blue twilight. This twilight energizes me.
Back in Seward, I took my dog for a swim in the bay.
Then I tackled my 15 mile marathon training run, and it went SO well. I was so happy the whole time. I love running distance. It is so me. I love how the first few miles always feel awkward until my body finds a flow. And how after 7 or 8 miles, my mind wanders and I lose myself. It's almost like a meditation, I think. Sometimes I look down and see my legs moving and I think: Oh legs. Wait, those are my legs. I love when that happens, love how still and complete I feel doing this simple thing called running.
Running: 15 miles
Reading: "at the sign of the naked waiter"
Writing: Almost, almost done