I often feel the need to apologize for disappearing off the blog for long periods of time, but you all (if you exist out there) need to understand that much of what I do these days has little to do with actual technology and much to do with museums and administrative tasks. So I don’t blog until I feel I’ve learned something or have a message to share. Today is going to be a little more personal and even less related to technology than most of my blogs but there it is–it’s something that’s been at the back of my mind for the past couple of weeks and I’m going to exorcise it.
Mine is the “Cronedom”
For the past several years I’ve been not-so-easily transitioning, in my working life, from being one of the Bright Young Things (BYT) in this field to being one of the crones. For better or for worse, women in this field turn into crones while men seem to turn into the “grand old men.” Fair or not fair, this is what it is and just in the past few months I’ve embraced my inner “crone” and found life considerably easier by following a few rules:
–speak when I have something to say and not just to hear myself speak
–tell the truth
–don’t get angry
–Never ever be harder on others than you are on yourself
On the whole, it’s easier being a crone than a BYT because the only pressure it the pressure I apply to myself. Crones are, on the whole, invisible and that allows one to accomplish a lot more behind the scenes. I won’t say I’m a happy crone, but I will say I am a happier crone because….
“I am a winner!”
This past June, inspired by my son and some colleagues (you know who you are), I started learning how to run. Went from sloth to running a 5k over the summer, which is huge for someone who’s never been at all active. The official culminating 5 k was the first week in September–and I finished, slow but I finished.
Just to keep myself running I’ve been signing up and running some local 5 ks and a few weeks ago ran one called “The Cats in the Flats.” Now, if you know anything about Cleveland, and I’m assuming most of you don’t, you’d know that “the Flats” is the Cuyahoga River Valley where it meets Lake Erie. The city of Cleveland is at the top of a moraine deposited by a glacier and the Flats are at the bottom of the moraine. Should have realized that any run which included the word “flats” was going to involve running up and down hills–not something novice runners are particularly skilled at.
Nonetheless bright and early on a Sunday morning I was out at the starting line with 150 or so of my new closest friends. Next to me in the back of the crowd was a 4 year old girl and her mother. She explained that they were going to “run” the 2 mile walk (Cats in the flats is a 2 mile fun walk, a 5k, and a 10 k–all of which start at the same time). I wished them good luck, the gun fired and we started off.
I finished the damn 5 k. I did not come in last. I did come in about the same time as the 10 k runners were finishing. I did come in behind two 11 year old girls (also running the 5 k) who I had passed at one point on the 5 k when they stopped to pet a cat! Nonetheless, I finished the damn thing–up hills and down.
As I was walking around cooling down I ran into the 4 year old and her mother. I asked if they’d won the 2 mile, and her mother said she thought so. The little girl, all of a sudden, threw her arms in the air and shouted out “I am a winner.” I replied “Yes you are, well done” and as I started to walk away I threw my arms up in the air and shouted out “I am a finisher.”
Fast forward a couple of weeks. My son and I are watching Patient Long-Suffering Spouse (PLSS) playing baseball on his over 40 league. Watching Dad play baseball is a great way to have a conversation with your son–they forget they are conversing with a parent. All of a sudden like it was the most natural question in the world my son asked me, “Do you have a race tomorrow, Mom?”
Last May that sentence wasn’t even in the family vocabulary.
You know what. I am a winner.
