why I run

Aug. 24th, 2009 11:18 am
jazzfish: Jazz Fish: beret, sunglasses, saxophone (Default)
[personal profile] jazzfish
I run because the morning clouds delight me.

I run because my neighborhood has a couple of cool houses, and parks I would have never found otherwise, and last year there was an old guy doing t'ai chi on the school lawn when I went by.

I run because there's genuine, measurable improvement in my ability from day to day.

I run because I don't like gasping for breath when I climb stairs.

I run because I value having time with my own thoughts.

I run because I can.

I run because balance is the way of the runner. (The line from that book that has always stuck with me: "A lie: speed is the way of the runner.")



The ache in my calves this morning (and yesterday morning) seems unrelated to running; while I was moving this morning it mostly dissipated. Came back with a vengeance when I walked down the steps to go to work, though. I'm blaming it on the preponderance of stairs in [livejournal.com profile] elf's (obscenely opulent) new digs.

Also, it's so much easier to keep moving when the air's cooled down a bit and I don't feel like I'm redlining. Friday was horrid. Today, I didn't even notice much difficulty until after the 20-minute mark. I cannot wait for August to be over.

Date: 2009-08-26 12:19 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jonny-law.livejournal.com
Good point. I've kind of let the running lapse since moving to a place where I walk everywhere. As I may have mentioned, my definition of fitness is being able to hold a conversation while walking up 5 flights of stairs without getting winded. I think I will start taking the stairs when I come home from now on. Plus it will help me get over my fear of fire, or at least having to get back home after while the elevators are still offline or jammed with other people.

August everywhere is bad, except maybe in the Southern Hemisphere. Even August in San Diego is bad, because since "the weather is always good" there people don't believe in insulation, let alone air conditioning. It's fine if you're living in a million-dollar shack that has a view of the beach, but inland quickly becomes desert.

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Adventures in Mamboland

"Jazz Fish, a saxophone playing wanderer, finds himself in Mamboland at a critical phase in his life." --Howie Green, on his book Jazz Fish Zen

Yeah. That sounds about right.

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