Running…(88 of 90)

If I’m not careful with myself, I loop.

My mind works in an odd way, one that I’ve written about here and there before. It’s not anything crippling or debilitating, but it’s certainly a thing. The world in my head works in a very specific way. There’s no getting around that.

Still, it’s not entirely a lost cause when I’m paying attention to it. Which I don’t do enough.

But I’m trying to change that in my Year of Change. My Year of Health.

In the year before I came to Muncie, as I sat in the offices of doctors who tried to figure out what was wrong with my heart, I knew that whatever it was – whatever it was – it could be traced back to me. The smoking. The drinking. The decadence and indulgence of my life.

There comes a time when the body simply can’t handle the weight of it all anymore.

My doctor told me that my mind works the same way. I can push it, prod it, ignore it and run it around. But only for so long. Before the crash.


I’m one week into my serious training after six weeks of warm-ups.

I am past the point of dragging myself off the couch. Of dreading the runs. I wake up every morning energized to go. The battery inside me humming, my legs tingling. Even as I sit here tonight, on my off day, I have to forcibly keep myself from running.

My body was made for motion. Maybe everyone is like that. I can’t speak to that. Mine was. My mind and my body are, when I am taking care of them, always revving. I don’t have mental blocks, really, because of the way my mind works. It becomes extremely focused. I lose track of time and space. I become about the moment.

I have to consciously remind myself, when I am running, that I need to turn back. That I need to stop. That I need to take days off. That I can’t simply run myself into the ground.

Because I will – have – done that.


When I finally stopped seeing the doctors and the specialists, they couldn’t figure out what was wrong with my heart. In all likelihood, they said, it was nothing that a lifestyle change couldn’t fix.

I know better.

It wasn’t just the lifestyle. It was my life.


Because the thing I just typed was mean and nasty. And that’s for me. Alone. A pointless endeavor to send it out in the world as I have in the past.

It brings nothing good, really. Momentary relief followed by the crushing-ness of it all. Not because I fear them anymore. Because I fear the me that un-leashes that.

It’s taken some time to realize that my heart problems have always been about me.


I run now because my body feels in its natural state. My mind is fresher. Cleaner. Everything feels right.

The off days are hard. As the off days will always be hard.

But, as Nicholas Negroponte says, it’s a hard fun. The kind that comes just calm.

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