Featured in skirt! Magazine
The story I am about to tell has nothing to do with children, and very little to do with life as an expat. Those are my typical topics, but this week school started back; and well, I need some ME time.
ME time typically involves shopping, a hair appointment, or a yoga class. This time it involves sex. It wasn supposed to, and certainly did not start out that way, but it did. So, after getting the children out the door, picking up a bit in the house, starting a load of laundry, and making the traditional first week of school hair, nail, and facial appointments for myself, I put on my jogging shoes and hit my favorite jogging trail. It has been a while since I last jogged. In fact for the past two months I have been working hard to master the art of relaxing while three children and most of their friends wreak havoc around me.
I leave the house, water bottle strapped in my belt, iPhone in hand and Nickelback blasting through my ear fobs. The air is cool and crisp. The thought that it is barely August and autumn is in the air saddens me, but I quickly sweep that thought aside. I begin to pick up my pace to a steady rhythm I hope I can maintain for the next fifty or so minutes. I turn left and see Mjøsa, the largest lake in Norway, and continue towards it. I love to run beside the water. My mind begins wandering again as I wish this were the ocean and not a lake. I am not a lake person. I like the smell of salt in the air, and there is a peculiarness about beach people I relate to. Upon reaching the path that goes along the water, I notice how tall the grass has gotten, and assume it has not been mowed because of the rain. As the rest of the world complains of high temperatures and drought, Norway has had one of the rainiest summers ever.
Anyway, my feet fall rhythmically on the dirt path keeping pace with the tunes flowing from my iPhone. Then the first notes of BITCH by Merideth Brooks come on, and suddenly I was transported to another scene another time in my life. Funny how music does that, and this is where the sex comes into play.
A couple of years ago, as I was jogging on this very trail and listening to this very song, I found myself in an uncompromising situation. I had my camera with me and was snapping shots here and there. The trail is that pretty. Anyway, in one particular area, I decided to stop, set the camera on timer, place it on a large rock, and get in the picture myself. I did, taking my sweet time and when I went to retrieve the camera off the rock, there was a couple making whoopee on the ground beside the rock my camera was upon. How I had not seen them before is beyond me. They were yelling but because I had my music so loud, I did not hear them. I was embarrassed. I grabbed my camera, picked my chin up off the ground, and started jogging, no, running home.
When I was certain the couple was far behind me, I slowed my pace and began to giggle, then laugh. I was still surprised I had not seen them before. I had fumbled with my camera several times getting the timer thingie right, then the focus adjusted. I had even messed up by being too slow and had to redo the entire thing again. How was it possible I did not notice these people? Well, it was. And who were they to yell at me? I was not the one naked on a public beach! For a moment I considered going back and asking them. Then I decided it was just another fabulous story to share, and I made my way home listening to Toes by Zac Brown.