I have a lot of things that I want to do this year. I want to do something with my writing. I want to run more. I want to spend more time building cool things out of Lego. There are other goals, but these are the three that I am most frustrated about right now. It may still be January, but I’m feeling like a bit of a failure on these three fronts.
I went for another long run this morning. Just like last week’s long run, I looked off into the distance and couldn’t believe that I would make it. I did. I ran my eight and a half miles. On the way though I spent a lot of time thinking about writing. Last night I had a few friends over to talk about NaNoWriMo, and as I ran I couldn’t help but wonder what running could teach me about writing.
While I was out on a run Monday, I had three things going through my head. I was disappointed that I didn’t have a blog post scheduled for Monday, but I’d spent my evening playing Civ V and I really didn’t have much to kvetch about. I was steeping in my usual disdain for cyclists who wear black from head to toe in low-visibility conditions. The biggest thing on my mind was the run though, and that really came into focus as I turned a corner and saw a bridge in the distance. I thought for a second that there was no way that I could run that far, but then I realized that I’d actually be running past that bridge and over the one after that before beginning to turn home.
Sometimes life takes you places you’d never expect. Suddenly you are walking the apocalyptic aisles of a rural Target, and you just have to wonder at the strange series of seemingly unconnected choices that lead you there. For me, the strange journey has brought me to the foreign shore of running.
A month has passed since I last posted here. During that time I had one of those milestone birthdays that is supposed to make me feel old. I must say that it worked. About the same time I managed to sprain my ankle while running. This lead to close to a month of pain and weakness. I used a cane for a couple of weeks in concert with a brace. What a way to ring in my new-found old age.