The Only Way to Feel Like You’re Running
2/25/2010 10:19 AM – 10:39 AM
It’s snowing outside. Really snowing. It’s a snowday day of snowing. I just sat and I got that weird sit buzz/fuzzy/fluid thing. I think it’s the first time since I started sitting again. My rules are less this time. Sit. Stare at something though half-closed eyes. Count your breaths.
When you realize that you’re not paying attention to counting your breaths, start from one again. Do this until the bell rings. When the bell rings, count your breaths to ten. Say a prayer of whatever comes to mind. Get up. Put your cushion away and go on to what is next. I’m only at ten minutes. Someday, I’ll work it up to a half hour. I should probably do it before I go to bed. This is fine. This is good. Do you get it – it’s really, really snowing. In a few hours, I’ll go to work. In a half hour, I’ll start my lifting session. I didn’t work on editing today. I didn’t work on it yesterday. I did sign up for a doctor’s appointment yesterday and start to fill out the paperwork. I did watch the latest episode of Lost this morning.
I spent some time yesterday reading about getting in shape. One website asked what you wanted to get in shape for, positing that it was good to have a goal. I don’t really have a thing to get in shape for, not a project anyway. Well, other than the whole life project. I want to be a writer. I want to live in a cottage in the woods. I want to read good books and watch good movies. These are things that I know or know some things about. I do know a little of what it feels like to run three miles up a hill and then three miles back down. Your leg muscles hurt on the way up. Your knees hurt on the way down. Between the near constant thoughts of how awesome it would be to stop, there is a subtle ecstasy of doing something as hard as that. I have not yet fully lost myself in a run for the whole run. I’ve lost myself for little parts of it. It is odd how much running can be like sitting. Now to figure out how my whole life can be like running and sitting. Beautiful girls, beautiful girls, somewhere out there, somewhere over the next rise. And maybe the girls aren’t girls. Maybe the girls are only girls. It will be a while before I’m fit enough to even get those little snippets of running being running. When I stop, it’s because I find that I don’t need the running. It’s for a little while only that you can get away with it, but it feels like you can get away with it forever. But one day you wake up and you remember that the only way to feel like you’re running is to be running.
It’s snowing outside. Really snowing. It’s a snowday day of snowing. I just sat and I got that weird sit buzz/fuzzy/fluid thing. I think it’s the first time since I started sitting again. My rules are less this time. Sit. Stare at something though half-closed eyes. Count your breaths.
When you realize that you’re not paying attention to counting your breaths, start from one again. Do this until the bell rings. When the bell rings, count your breaths to ten. Say a prayer of whatever comes to mind. Get up. Put your cushion away and go on to what is next. I’m only at ten minutes. Someday, I’ll work it up to a half hour. I should probably do it before I go to bed. This is fine. This is good. Do you get it – it’s really, really snowing. In a few hours, I’ll go to work. In a half hour, I’ll start my lifting session. I didn’t work on editing today. I didn’t work on it yesterday. I did sign up for a doctor’s appointment yesterday and start to fill out the paperwork. I did watch the latest episode of Lost this morning.
I spent some time yesterday reading about getting in shape. One website asked what you wanted to get in shape for, positing that it was good to have a goal. I don’t really have a thing to get in shape for, not a project anyway. Well, other than the whole life project. I want to be a writer. I want to live in a cottage in the woods. I want to read good books and watch good movies. These are things that I know or know some things about. I do know a little of what it feels like to run three miles up a hill and then three miles back down. Your leg muscles hurt on the way up. Your knees hurt on the way down. Between the near constant thoughts of how awesome it would be to stop, there is a subtle ecstasy of doing something as hard as that. I have not yet fully lost myself in a run for the whole run. I’ve lost myself for little parts of it. It is odd how much running can be like sitting. Now to figure out how my whole life can be like running and sitting. Beautiful girls, beautiful girls, somewhere out there, somewhere over the next rise. And maybe the girls aren’t girls. Maybe the girls are only girls. It will be a while before I’m fit enough to even get those little snippets of running being running. When I stop, it’s because I find that I don’t need the running. It’s for a little while only that you can get away with it, but it feels like you can get away with it forever. But one day you wake up and you remember that the only way to feel like you’re running is to be running.
posted by Spike at 7:44 AM
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