Same As It Ever Was

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Just got back from my first run in about a month.A slow 5K in the chilly Syracuse November. It felt good. I'm trying not to think beyond this one run and as I ran tried not to think of anything at all. It's no good thinking about the possible next runs. That's the way to failure. Instead, I want to be okay with the simple fact that I ran today and felt good. That's all. That's enough.

It's the same every time I run after a long layoff. I wonder, why haven't I done this sooner? But I know. It's because running felt impossible. It's not just that I feel unmotivated. Even at my lowest I a run will feel good and take me out of the darkness. I understand that as fact, but I just can't run right then. I'm know that just as sure. Of course I could run except that I can't.

I wish I could explain it better.

Chance gets me running again. Today, I left work earlier than in the last few weeks. I'd done a day's work and I'll put in extra hours tomorrow night. Staying at work would have been a case of diminishing returns for the organization and for me too. So I walked home, pet the dog, changed into running clothes, and went out the door, down the road.

There wasn't much thought or planning. Thought and planning keep me from running more than they get me out on the road. I felt like a run was possible and kind of wanted to. I didn't think it would transform me. I'd still be fat and the answers to life's big questions would still elude me. Still, it felt like the thing to do.

I texted my wife that I was going for a short run. I kept expectations low for me, not her. I told the dog I'd be back soon. That I went for a run and it was the same as it ever was. The same good, not great. Nothing to write home about, but here I am. Another thing same as it ever was.

It's best to let these things be instead of thinking them to death. Someday I may figure out how to do that. Then again, probably not.

Speaking of thinking things to death, this is another instance of writing something I've written before (probably several times). I worry about that but I need to think things through a few times. If I bored you, sorry, but that's how this works. The writing is free and you get what you pay for. I've probably written that before too.

Said Before, Said Again

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Alan Jacobs has a post wishing people would use his blog as he does. I get it, but I'm not all that thoughtful about how people read or use my blog. I like people reading it. I'd really like more people reading it, though not too many (too many readers costs money). Jacobs' blog is more scholarly than mine (every blog is more scholarly than mine) and it's scholarly use I think he's after. That's a fine enough idea, but I don't subscribe to it. I do subscribe to his blog, however, and if you like reading someone smart with whom you'll often disagree, I recommend it. Remember what Aaron Sorkin says:

"If you're dumb, surround yourself with smart people. If you're smart, surround yourself with smart people who disagree with you." (Sports Night, "The Hungry And the Hunted")

The part from Jacobs I like most is his idea that a blog "allows you to revisit themes and topics." I was reminded of that this morning writing of listening to an album before work as I used to listen before high school. That felt familiar, like I was repeating myself. I kind of was. That feeling nagged me through the writing, but I hit publish without searching for the older post and felt no remorse. Why not revisit ideas?

Years ago, I stopped subscribing to Runner's World because of their repetition (and their whorish devotion to Nike et al). The annual "How To Run Your First 5K" or "This Is Your Marathon Year" articles recycled not just an idea or two but what felt like whole issues. That kind of repetition is deadly dull.

Jacobs' repetition is a returning to ideas in order to more fully think them through. That's good repetition. Mine is a half-assed version of that and hopefully nothing like Runner's World. My two posts have only a passing connections: the song, wondering what I did as a kid while the song played, comparing an awful teaching job with my exciting new job. The biggest repetition is in the tone of the ending. That repetition I regret.

If that's as bad as it gets, I'll keep repeating, though I hope I'll think of something different to say tomorrow, something new, preferably with an ending that sounds like nothing else I've written recently.