7/4/13. 10k results, I guess mildly satisfied. I’ll note the numbers later, but for now.. relaxing. Went into work at around 10:15a, I think. The Reserve Room, treating me quite nicely, actually. Couldn’t have asked for more from today. Well, I could have.. a taste, or ‘revisit’ as so many today said, of my wines.
Not attempting 3PAGES tonight. No energy for such task.. I know when it’s right, and tonight it simply is not. Too tired. At the beginning of the run this morning, I thought I was going to quit. But what would my son think? So I pressed on. Surprised I finished ahead of Carmen, as she’s a far better runner than the writer. I credit the two runners I met towards race’s end. One gentleman, whose name I didn’t catch. I said to him, “I’m going to follow you in.” “Okay, let’s go,” he said. Then, shortly after, with a half-mile to go, a lady about my age, Heidi, said “We’re almost there.. don’t be fooled by the 5k finish line, just keep running.” So I did. Surprised how good I did, but I still think I could have done better. And I, still immensely surprised I caught Carmen.
Celebrating here in home, sipping a Hoptimum, Sierra Nevada. May have a little red later, but not much. Want to do a short run tomorrow night, after work, with downed sun. If I can do what I did today, what else is the writer capable of? I’m just realizing. Sipping…
10:15pm. My time today: 48:52.9 total time, 7:53/mi avg. Not functioning well in this late hour, after this sparkling Mumms. No red. If I were to have that, I’d be flat. And this is why I don’t much like sipping & scribbling, or tipping and typing, anymore. After the last few days, of sober sentencing.. I’ve developed aversion to alcohol. Sipping last bubbling flute, currently. I’m sure the morning’s run and my no-lunch shift has something to do with, but I’m not regular Literary Self, presently. Eager for sparkling water. And run tomorrow, after work. Thinking another 3 mile sprint. Let’s see if I can get under 21 total minutes. Today, instilling nothing but confidence.
Still hear fireworks outside. Never understood this holiday, really. I mean, I do, that America’s Independence, from England, is heralded today, every year. But why do we observe with loud, illustrative explosives? And tonight on the news, of course a report. Like it was so different from last year.
Need some water. Tired, and still seemingly dehydrated a bit from the morning’s race. Against the advice of a guest on the patio today, who disclosed she also liked to run.. I’m going for 3-4 miles tomorrow. LIFE, 2short. And I’m pushing my vessel to brink. 4ever alive.
Beginning to not like any shakes of wine, these small production beers. Prefer this sparkling water, substance with only beneficial sustenance. Interesting, this development with me, wine. Not like its language, what is speaks to my functioning. Oh this sparkling water.. what I need. To see. Watching TV. Making me sick. Holding off till morning, for the coffee, what IT does to pages.. only ascension.
My prose, providing the pavonine; multi-shaded.
7/5. Didn’t like the way the sparkling made me feel last night. Nor the glass of wine I had at work, that Hoptimum I had right when I got home. Am I dismissing wine & beer, completely? Don’t like the control it strips, the energy it carves out. Something to think about. Not going to rush-write this morning. Will continue sitting tonight, to sparkling water. When I have more time, am not up against their clock.
Today: verse, poem. All day.
At lunch: photog’…
Tonight: light walk/jog; or jog then walk.
9:33pm. Didn’t have a chance to write much verse today, while behind counter. Not with that caliber crowd. BUT, did have chance in last 17 minutes of lunch half-hour to capture stills of clusters, leaves, rows. Ran over 3 miles, walked over 3 as well. Right knee, speaking slightly. Tomorrow, no running. Just realized, on walk back with Hillary, that today’s my 3rd straight, running. Writer needing break, 24 hours 4ward.
Met another character connected to Literary realm, today, right before we closed. Young lady from Sebastopol, with every breath, syllable in her speech euphonious. Hope she contacts me, as I need more writers around my Now. Well, don’t ‘need’, just intently, intensely, prefer.
3PAGESaDAY, restarting with tomorrow morning’s session, sitting with home coffee. No blog post, just contribution to 3PAGES. Looking at today’s pictures, reminded of spells in vineyard, between those rows.. how each cluster’s a different paragraph, later contributed to vintage’s book. Not a novel, but collection, just as I like2write.. our steps each other mirror. Poems, in each speech frame. Telling me that tonight’s need could only tower in poetry’s spree. Pen2paper, no type stripe–
Sipping one of the beers I bought last night. But slow. Ever slow. Don’t like the way the contents make me feel. Flavor carriage, only loved. But the effects, detested. Not getting to teaching blog tonight, either. Want my objectives simple, as they will be: blog, the poem. Done. Then the writer sleeps.
Should the writer shoot for another run, come morrow? Make it 4 straight days, then brake. An idea. But if this knee still to me speaks, no.
The bottle’s contents begin their ripples. Again, slow tilts. And the run’s song, increasing with volume. Thinking of Paris, what I want to write when there. On writing retreat, which takes off in 9 days, I want 1 project printed, sold. Running 30 copies. No more. Locking Self into this, so there’ll be no hemming and hawing. Also on retreat: look into past posts, old entries on blogs, and in those legal pads you–I mean ‘I’–kept while at the box. If my writing’s to involve Truth, or be stapled in such, I have to be nonlinear, exhaust all feasibles till I’m at Equilibrium. And people ask me, always, what that is.
I don’t know. I’ll let
you know when I’m
there.
These pictures today, telling me more, even though I’m quite far from this row, these little reciting clusters. They don’t fear reaction, observation.. they’re just there, quite boldly in sun. Envy them, what they embody, what they say, Self-publish. Wish I could be like them. They’re truly, Truthfully, NATURALLY Artistic. More than this penner will EVER be. But I can still learn from them, can’t I?
My wines, HAVE to be tasted tomorrow. So no vineyard walks at lunch. Taking thief, going into cave’s right channel, tasting from both barrels, a couple times. Should free some space, tomorrow morning, on phone so I can film my session. Still very much in mode of ‘capture everything’. That’s the only way I’l get to office. -9:59pm