Last weekend, my good friend Christina offered to take Freya for three hours to play at her house with her son, Evan. The big day arrived yesterday, and at nine o’clock I dropped my daughter off for her morning of fun.

The first thing I did was to drive to the local high school track. I jogged two continuous laps, then walked about 1/4 lap, then jogged another two laps, then cooled down for a total of a mile and a quarter, a mile of which was running. I was extremely proud of this achievement. My problem with running has always been endurance. I recall trying to run on this very track almost exactly nine years ago, still in my 20s, and finding it a huge effort just to complete even one quarter-mile lap, and feeling like I was dying at the end. For whatever reason, it was a piece of cake this time. Which shows me that running is 50% mental. I really believed I could do it, and then I did it. The weather was perfect, too. Each time I came around the backstretch I was greeted by a panorama of crisp, clear, snow-covered mountains on the horizon.

Then I went home, showered (bliss!), and dressed. I headed outdoors again, this time to my town’s little downtown, where I am usually found with a stroller. This time I just had my handbag on my shoulder, containing Desert Solitaire by Edward Abbey. I bought an iced Americano and sat down at a table in the coffee shop to read. I found myself frequently distracted, as I am not used to this sort of thing as I once was, and I kept thinking about Freya. But I did get through one magnificent, lyrical chapter of the book. And I sat there at my sidewalk table, looking around at the people passing, taking it easy, feeling the breeze on my legs, remembering how much I used to do this back in 2007, when we first moved here and I was without a job. But then it was Fall, cold, and I sat indoors and wrote in a journal and drank my coffee from a mug.

I got up to wander Front Street and window shop for a while. Nothing much interested me. I did buy some treats for Christina as a thank you. And before long it was noon, and I headed back to her house to get my baby. I walked inside and could hear them playing in the back bedroom. Freya heard me come in, and hurried into the room. “Mommy!” she said, and walked into my arms for a hug. Sweetness. Then of course she wanted to play some more. 🙂

Christina has offered to make this a once weekly date. Having these three simple hours alone filled my cup more than I thought it would, and the reunion with Freya at the end was just as I’d hoped. She wasn’t upset that I was gone so long — she is very used to this family and has been to their house dozens of times. She’s a pretty confident, secure, and well-attached girl. But she also loves her mommy, and was excited to tell me about all the things they did while I was away. I’m so proud of her.

So next time, I think I should work on my book. And I also am going to avoid the temptation to do housework on these afternoons. Maybe big room organization projects, sure, but no doing the dishes or vacuuming, etc. This is supposed to be personal time for me, something I no longer take for granted.