body of work

one door opens to swirling lights and crystal castles thumping through my chest. up the stairway and a bead curtain leads to low couches, dark lighting and smooth miles davis. taking a piss while gazing at a velvet elvis. listening to two fuckers bark at each other about existentialism under the smoke filled, admiring gazes of the two hipster chicks. all this was enough to let me know this gathering was expiring. my options were to head downstairs and let something get slipped into my drink or buzz bike it back to the house and maybe get enough sleep to get a run in before the next day began.

waking up and heading out the next morning, i couldn't understand why, if i had the dedication to get up and get out, why wasn't my body rewarding me by feeling fresh as a daisy so i could have one of those runs where i blog about it and tell everyone how wonderful running is. isn't that part of what this cyber popularity contest is? talking about some pseudo spiritual zen like run where the leaves are changing and i'm in tune with the flow. yes. i have those. i find myself fortunate enough to have those more than the average bear, for sure. the facts are, though, days like today are more what it's like. it's part of the body of work. party. go to shows. work all day. go to school. have a life. pay bills. make choices. the shitty days come whether we spend our lives living from run to run or we take running and try to squeeze it in to the schedule like a fucking dental appointment. fact is, some days suck. some days are simply from door to door and are dictated by the time i have to get it in. truth is, i try to see it like i see my coffee; i like have it as much as i can and every day. sometimes twice. if only...

true, it's a balance. in order to have that, your going to have those runs that keep you coming back for more and grab that soulfulness that sustains us on those low motivation days. i prefer to look to those days when i feel like ass when i start and come around as catalyst for my epiphancy (sic). i have momentary regrets over lifestyle choices, like the drinker who's perched over the toilet vomiting his guts out, swearing he'll never drink again. i always talk about being dedicated. doing the little things. stretching. yoga. i go through bouts of this, but regress, without regret. i've learned to look at the body of work. i've learned i don't need that perfect trail. great weather. a wonderful, restful nights sleep. there are no guarantees with this sport. we all slow down. we run less. we drift. it's okay. we can still take ownership of it, on our own terms.

my running is mine. nobody else owns it. it answers to nobody, but itself.
some lessons aren't easily learned.