The gigantic footrace of life

Once again I, a simple solitary sufferer doomed to failure, am lying here on my bed staring at the ceiling and thinking about life, the meaning of it all. Lately, I have been viewing life as a footrace, a gigantic footrace. As the truth arises, I suspect most of us see life as some kind of gigantic footrace. Billions and billions and billions of us plunging along, thundering along, charging forward. And there is a great cloud of dust that rises up in the sky and glints in the yellowish sun. A fantastically exhausting race. It is a race that seems to have no end at all. But it is a race, and everyone is thundering along together. And every once in a while, one or two or maybe three poor, unfortunate souls are thrown off to the curbside. Gasping and out of breath and greatly out-distanced within the next 30 seconds. This is the concept of life that I suspect is most valid for people in our world today. A gigantic footrace. Have you ever had the feeling that if you stopped to look up at the sky for a moment, that they would catch up with you and pass you? Go right on past you, thundering on by. I have this friend, who, every time he goes on a vacation, he brings his cell phone with him and has his little earpods plugged into his ears. He is connected to the office by a cell phone and a set of earpods. His boat is never out of touch with the world. Never. And constantly, they are sending messages to him. Constantly. Because he wants to stay in the race, but at the same time look at the sky. Which of course is an impossibility. You see, the kind of sky that I am speaking of is the kind of sky that has no messages being sent to you by the other runners. This is the sky that we are all afraid of. We can’t get out of touch. We just can’t seem to disconnect. And the footrace goes on. The great, thundering herd. The crashing and the roaring. You take one look at that sky and you are done with, my friend. It is over.

Things I'd do if I was a caterpillar

One of my running heroes, Charlie Spedding, said that he likes to envision himself as a caterpillar when he trains.

Here are some of the things I would do if I was a caterpillar:

If I were a caterpillar

Much of my time would be spent hiding from birds of prey

Hidden beneath a shrub, I would nibble on leaves all day

If I were a caterpillar

I would prepare all through June

Knowing that by July, I will be a cocoon

If I were a cocoon

I would realize that this is only a phase

Only a phase, these dark lonely days

If I were a cocoon

I would hang from a branch way up high

Imagining what it will be like, once I become a butterfly

If I were a butterfly

I would have gorgeous wings

Floating a mile above the ground, I could see everything

If I were a butterfly

Life would really be neat

Happy and content, I would feel complete

Things I'd do if I was a puppy

If I were a puppy

My voice would be high

Yip, yip, yip, I would cry and cry

If I were a puppy

My fur would be soft

Master would take me up into his loft

If I were a puppy

I would chase down that ball

Sometimes I’d forget to bring it back when he calls

If I were a puppy

I would chew on my bone

Until I get sleepy and go off alone

Things I'd do if I was a squirrel

Kiddly da, diddly dee, diddly doo, kiddly da, diddly dum, kiddly da, kiddly dee...

I've been sitting at my window, drinking bottles of New Glarus Fat Squirrel Nut Brown Ale and watching these two squirrels chase each other around a tree for the past half hour. I'm feeling kinda squirrely myself right now. I wish I could turn into a squirrel and join them. They look like they're having a helluva time.

Here are some of the things I would do if I was a squirrel:

If I were a squirrel

I would chase after other squirrels

Around the tree, I would whirl and whirl

If I were a squirrel

I would have a collection of nuts

I’d keep them locked up in my little wood hut

If I were a squirrel

I would live in the cozy oak trees

My big bushy tail would keep me warm so I wouldn’t freeze

If I were a squirrel

Life would certainly be fun

All day long I would play in the sun

Out for the count

Christmas and New Year are over and 2025 is having trouble getting started. I had some trouble getting started myself this morning. After drifting into and out of the void for most of the AM hours, I finally pulled myself out of the sack, over the wall, and into that bright sunlight of consciousness. At quarter after ten. Waking up is so much harder when you can’t run. I have tried running a few times over the past couple weeks, but after a minute or two, my right knee inevitably starts screaming at me to stop. I’m pretty sure it’s fractured. This is, by far in a way, the most frustrating injury I’ve ever had. Partly because it wasn’t really even my fault. I had a green light, the “walk” signal was on, I looked both ways, didn’t see anything, and proceeded across Johnny Nollen as I had thousands of times before. Then bang! Out of the dark fog a car must have come through and the next thing I know I’m on the ground and my head is bleeding and my knees are fubar and I don’t know what just happened? The car never did stop. I doubt the driver even knew they’d hit me. Probably they were texting or gushing on their cell-phone. I sometimes wish I could kick the a-hole who blew through that stoplight on the morning of November 25th. Okay, I’m kidding. I’d never wish to inflict harm upon anyone. Vengeance, appealing as it seems at times, is not the solution.

It’s sort of depressing, having a running blog and not being able to run. I get a lot of thoughts when I run. It is while I am running that my creative juices really flow. Most mornings, I have been able to drag myself out of the sack and walk a measly mile or two. But walking doesn’t seem to do it for me. The juices can’t seem to get warmed up in this cold weather. Now that I’m injured and can’t run, my creative juices have nowhere to flow. The juice just sits there on the shelf in the dark and grows sour. So don’t expect any good writing to come from this blog in the near future. Not until I’m up and running again anyway.

Resolutions Take 2

1. Do unto others as you would have others do unto you. Or not.

2. Kick the two liter a day Everclear habit. Or at least switch to something a little less potent, such as vodka or rum.

3. Be patient when confronted with human frailty. Remember: good things come to those who wait.

4. Keep the monthly mileage under 400. No point in risking any preventable injuries.

5. Learn how to play “Dallas Rag” and “St Louis Trickle” on the acoustic guitar.

6. Start something new and stick with it.  “2025- the year I finally learned how to play by ear!” Sounds nice, doesn’t it?

7. Crack 2:00 for the 800m.

8. Floss thy teeth. At least once a week.

9. Develop a sense of entitlement.  (whether I deserve it or not)

10. Throw away my entire wardrobe and start over. By popular request

11. Make donation to the American Liver Foundation. Just in case.

12. Get over this silly running thing and get back to blogging. Before it's too late

Resolutions

1. Don’t fuck anybody, ever. It’s not worth it.

2. Kick the three-pack-a-day smoking habit. Or at least switch to the less-harmful filtered cigarettes.

3. Get even with all the assholes. Remember: vengeance is the best revenge.

4. Up the mileage to a cool 600 a month. All of it quality.

5. Learn how to play “Elite Syncopations” and “A Breeze From Alabama” on the piano.

6. Start something new and stick with it.  “2025- the year I finally learned how to sight read!” Sounds nice, doesn’t it?

7. Crack 2:00 for the marathon.

8. Floss thy teeth. Everyday.

9. Develop a sense of entitlement.  (whether I deserve it or not)

10. Throw away my entire wardrobe and start over. By popular request

11. Return a few phone calls once in a while.  Just to keep ‘em guessing

12. Get over this silly blogging thing and get back to running.  Before it’s too late