Time Moves On
Those of us born into Western culture experience the passage of time as linear, and are comfortable saying "time moves on." I do know I have trouble conceiving of time as existing in any other configuration, Einstein (a Westerner remarkably free of Western ways of thinking) notwithstanding. So I say, time has moved on since I last posted. And then I say, "Have I?"
The answer, sadly, is, "not much." My race is a week from yesterday. I haven't run since a week ago yesterday, having been stricken by consecutive viruses, which gleefully turned most of my normal body functions upside down and sideways. Well, I'm crying uncle and saying I'm through with being sick.
So this morning I headed out the door for a wobbly 3.25. I'm in Westbrook, Connecticut, right now for the celebration of my mother-in-law's 90th birthday. Most days (including yesterday, when we all went to a 5-hour-long St. Paddy's Day party), she has more energy than I do. In short, she is wonderful!
As for heading out the door on this day, I put on about 20 layers of clothing. All right five. It's cold and damp and breezy on the shores of Long Island Sound, so I was motivated to keep moving. It went fairly well, well enough that I'm still committed to the upcoming half.
The morning light here, as in most other places I've had the luck to run in, is lovely. I think being on the water makes it even better, especially when the sun rises and adds its glow to the unsullied day.
So I went down by the water for about a half mile, and then cut inland to see what I could see. What I saw was more water, this in the form of a small, half-frozen-over pond. I was half frozen over myself, and could relate.
The answer, sadly, is, "not much." My race is a week from yesterday. I haven't run since a week ago yesterday, having been stricken by consecutive viruses, which gleefully turned most of my normal body functions upside down and sideways. Well, I'm crying uncle and saying I'm through with being sick.
As for heading out the door on this day, I put on about 20 layers of clothing. All right five. It's cold and damp and breezy on the shores of Long Island Sound, so I was motivated to keep moving. It went fairly well, well enough that I'm still committed to the upcoming half.
The morning light here, as in most other places I've had the luck to run in, is lovely. I think being on the water makes it even better, especially when the sun rises and adds its glow to the unsullied day.
Before coming East, during the brief period between the two scurrilous viruses that set up shop in my body, I went to Phoenix with my boys for our annual Spring Training pilgrimage. (Go A's!) I ran there and took pictures there--a flashback to that interlude will be my next post. Stay tuned if you're inclined--although if you get too inclined, you might fall asleep. You'd be better off going out for a run!
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