Tomorrow waking up when I was set to, today. To gym. Ten miles, on tread. Would be my record. Deciding to write more about running and the psychology around running. And if not the psych to it then the practice and habit and maintenance of that practice and habit of being a runner. 9:05. Will be in bed by 10. Sipping a wee bit of Zin before calling the day, day much more euphonious and melodic than prior.
I see self running in Europe, in China, in Yosemite and Yellowstone. Yes, doing “the Boston” as so many that have brag about. After class tonight and after talking to a student that thanked me for my instruction this term, with her getting to specifics like writing and other ideas offered and habits that I stress, I know tomorrow has to be past what’s connotative with Thanksgiving. Not some Turkey run I’m going on. I’m going to test self on that belt. Ten miles. Maybe a wink more. Then, when home just after 6, I’ll register for that Marin marathon.
I remember when I first started running, running seriously, when working at Kunde with my friend Bonnie. We’d run Lawndale all the way back down to Highway 12, just west of Landmark Winery, and then along 12 back to base. When she couldn’t run with me I’d go solo. That’s when I saw something in running. The peace, the obsession, of course the writing material…. I’m a runner. I won’t be able to run like this for too much longer, I reason. So I have to throw self into the running moment, run faster than time. Or try.
Tired from day but I can’t slow. No. 9:13. Wine not saying much to me, but thoughts of waking at 4 or just before do. How I’ll feel walking out to car, then driving up San Miguel, along Coffey, up Hopper then right on Airway, left on Industrial…. I’ll start at 6.2, then raise the hard-deck from there. When done, I’ll thank self I did what I did.