tunnel helmets on

  Did you ever play that game when you were young? You know the one: you're riding in the car on a trip with your family, you're approaching an endless looking tunnel, and your dad yells "TUNNEL HELMETS ON!". You put your imaginary helmet on your very real head, hold your breath, and count how many seconds it takes to get through the tunnel. But you better be careful, because you know what happens if you don't make it on one breath!
  That was probably one of my most favorite games to play with my dad and brothers, and to this day I still can't drive, or walk, or run, or bike through a tunnel without holding my breath and putting on my tunnel helmet. I had kinda sorta forgotten about it until my run the other day. Next to our itty bitty living quarters is a nice little forest path that takes you right to canal that runs next to the Potomac. This creepy tunnel, with all its glorious graffiti toting obama's supposed advocacy of your mother, takes you right under canal road and spits you out right where the bike path intersects with the canal path. It stinks, terribly, of mildew and stagnant water. It's damp, and cool, and you feel like your life is in danger up the whole time you're in there. It's the perfect tunnel to wear your tunnel helmet and hold your breath. So back to my run...I realized about the point that I was climbing the steps to take the upper canal path right after this tunnel that I was quite light headed. I stopped to catch my breath and was suddenly aware that I hadn't taken a single breath since entering the tunnel several seconds earlier. I guess maybe running isn't the most appropriate time for not breathing, eh?
  It got me thinking (all my best thinking happens when I run) of the things from my childhood that I've continued into my adult life. Not much people, not much. My whole life has changed since I left home and struck out on my own. My ideas are different, several of my core values and beliefs have altered slightly, I don't think the same, I don't do work the same, I don't analyze every little detail like I used to, my anxiety is mostly gone, my perfectionism is slowly (yet surely) dissipating, I dress differently...I feel differently...about everything. It's funny how growing up works, how everything changes.
  Not that I don't appreciate the life I had when I was young, I most definitely do! But I'm also grateful that I've learned and been taught to think for myself, to decide who and what I want to be, to change the things I can and learn to handle the things I can't change. I like myself better now than I ever had, so I'm glad everything is different now.
  But I sure am glad that I still hold my breath and wear my helmet when passing through tunnels, because I sure like remembering how much fun we had on road trips, and I sure don't want to end up like that one girl who was too old for silly games, refused to wear her head protection, and demanded that she breath normally. I'm pretty sure she met a terrible end...though to be honest, I'm not sure my dad ever told us what would happen if we didn't play along.