mental blocks

Everyone who does this sort of thing must go through these mental blocks. For me it starts with the fact that I'm 50 pounds overweight and I've only jogged once in the last decade. Right now it's midnight and it's raining and chilly out and the economy sucks and I'm on my last shred of energy, but preparations must go on if I am going to run this marathon.

I can't find my sneakers. Also tonight I smoked a cigar with my father-in-law and I just ate a half a bag of cheese curls and yesterday I stubbed my toe pretty hard on the wall trying to turn a corner too fast to get to the fridge. Training for a marathon requires you to hone your reflexes. Razor sharp reflexes, or sharper if possible. Note to self to Google sharper reflexes.

Blogosphere, I'm getting nervous about this marathon. I know it because my reflexes are a little off. The other day I was washing a wine glass and I accidentally put my hand through the glass -- breaking it into about 5 pieces with just the joint of my left thumb. I don't want the bleeding to be a distraction, so I've got to keep a good supply of Band Aids at the ready if I'm going to run this marathon. Thumb removal might be a faster way to heal. Or sports medicine? I also know I'm nervous because when I'm nervous I eat and surf the web a lot. Mostly looking at boring shit that I hate. The more boring the more nervous I am.

But when you're running you aren't nervous (unless you're nervous you're going to keel over), you're an eagle, a gazelle, leopard, etc. You are everything Apple has ever named an operating system after. When you're running you become one with the landscape, with the wind, and in the rhythm of the wind (of the you) you can beat your demons.

My demons are pretty boisterous. One of them is wearing an Atlanta Falcons jersey. Another is dressed in a speedo and drinking Boone's Farm and I think he's the asshole who hid my running shoes. I could run in my dress shoes and that speedo and the old Falcons jersey. Determination. Fuck you, demons.

I'm not going to go running tonight, I'm going to go to sleep. As everyone who's ever run a marathon knows, you have to get a good night's sleep the night before. And eat a boatload of carbs first. Head start on that.

bright new atmosphere

perhaps i'm going to have to do this nyc marathon 2031 thing last minute. sinking feeling that the night before I’ll be lacing bobo running shoes for the huffing first mile of practice, "wracking" my brain to figure some adrenaline-laced recipe for success only to end up the next morning sprawled on my 300-pound ass in a pile of crushed gatorade cups on fourth avenue in the gray November light looking up at the clock tower thinking it's the empire state building, drooling into the cracks in the concrete.

i keep getting signs from the world that i need to keep it simpler. that i need to find comfort in my own skin and not spend every waking minute trying to escape.

when i was a wee plus-sized i learned to "dodge" reality through books, a strategy that made good sense then. even if books can't tune out your childhood's screaming violence, they can help one you make it through the aftershocks. stick a book in front of your face and a) it acts as a simple visual shield b) it fills your brain with other elements, other compounds, a bright new atmosphere. ignoring for the moment that what i loved to read then was horror.

"the" problem being that decades later i don't know how to turn off that winning escape instinct. dodging reality has served me well enough to this point, so why suddenly believe in the here and now. deep down i do, i do, i really do, though its been hard to get a brain quorum on that.

Doogie Howser diary entries aside the late-or-non-bloom curmudgeon will lace up shoes this morning, not for a jog but for the subway steps, up to the summer street and on to numbing work.

{P.S.: mountain goats sunset tree on the train in this morning, and how that guy has really learned to reckon with his memory, to find his pain and use guitars to anesthetize it, if not beat it}.

birth signs of a new world

Today I jogged outside for the first time in ten years or more. Although the goal I set was modest I didn’t make it. Early on I thought I was going to have a heart attack. You know when you're driving in your car and you see somebody trying to convince themselves they're running but really they're walking in a stupid way. Today that was me. For about an hour after I kept thinking I was going to pass out. All day since I've felt more grounded than I have in 5 months.

This afternoon N. and I went grocery shopping together. We just needed parsley, strawberries, and milk. You know when you're shopping and some idiot keeps getting in your way trying to have fun with his kid? Today that was me.

Right around mall closing time I went to get my hair cut. The woman who cut my hair had a lot on her mind. She said Jesus conquered death and defeated Satan and no other God had done that. She said his name was on every tongue. She said recent events told her that the end times were close. She said earthquakes and storms and even the President in power now read like signs and wonders straight from Revelations. She got in my face and peered into my eyes to see whether I saw her point. She said these were signs but more were yet to come, that they were birth signs of a new world.

You know sometimes it does feel like the end of the world and you could almost agree with a person who spoke to you in such a manner? Today that person wasn't me. This world doesn't get to end on my kid. I gently made my case against her vision and we left it as friends who disagreed but in respect. The haircut's pretty good.