No Such Thing as the Same Run Twice

I find attempting to chronicle my running life in any regular manner is about like trying to chronicle life itself--time moves on, moments (and runs), when closely examined, do not repeat themselves, and the nature of time's passing makes closely examining any experience that's in the past akin to nostalgia (that is, pretty lifeless). 

I found a track!

Here's how it goes: I do a run. I take a couple of what I think are interesting photos. I plan a fascinating blog post. I get home. I stretch, eat, shower--and along comes life. I get busy. A week goes by, and more than once during that week I do a run. I take a couple of what I think are interesting photos. I plan a fascinating blog post. I get home. I stretch, eat, shower, and--well, you know what comes next.

When I try to set down the events of my running life, I am always working in the shadow of James Boswell.  Little-known fact: I did my master's thesis on Boswell, way back in the day. I fell in love with his journals when I read his justification for spilling the most minute details of his life onto a page for the public to read: "I should live," he wrote as young man of thirty-something, "no more than I can record, as one should not have more corn growing than one can get in." This is not an amazing observation; however, how close Boswell came to examining and recording every interesting moment in his life is amazing.

I have read pretty much everything Boswell ever wrote, including his best-known work, his huge biography of Samuel Johnson (although that is such a tome that even an enthusiast such as I ended up reading an abridged version). 

I was lost and so didn't stop for conversation--although it was tempting, and I did need a haircut.

I tell you all this as prelude to touching on a run I went on yesterday, a wandering kind of thing I did while on an overnight visit to Sacramento. It was a 4.5 miler that morphed from the intended distance of 3 miles because of my tendency to get turned around when running in an unfamiliar locale. Oh well. So this, my friends, is a brief record of that particular run in my particular life. Already it's time for the next run!

Realized that the only thing that stands still, be it time or human endeavor (such as a run), is an entity that has somehow been frozen into immobility. Don't I sometimes have endeavors that I wish I could bronze!