Space cadet reaches an amazing conclusion while running laps around the lake
I´m lying down on my back on the largest lawn in the park at noon, all by myself. It´s the middle of the day in the middle of the week and the park is pretty much empty except for the odd married old couple or the occasional jogger (myself included). The sun is peaking high up in the blue sky and there´s not a cloud to be seen. The heat, unbelievable as it is, has stripped me down to my running shorts and multiple beads of sweat all over, period.
Silence reigns supreme on the lawn except for a jetliner crisscrossing above every fifteen minutes or so, and the perpetual droning of the ubiquitous dragonflies swarming about. I take a deep breath and make a point so as not to forget to do that thing with the diaphragm just like that girl who took Yoga taught me a few months back: I inhale and here´s the faint, fresh smell of the recently-mowed grass, clinging to those last traces of last night´s rain, coming in with the air.
I have nowhere else to go, see, and nothing else to do: I was running laps around the lake a few minutes ago, and every time I run, I run scared witless of messing up with my knees (again) so I end up interposing instances of just walking in-between the laps. But this time was different: I found myself in that legendary, nigh-unattainable state of mind halfway between the nihilist and the space cadet, and by the time I realized that, I´d been running for almost an hour, somewhere during that fourth lap around the lake, without stopping for a walk, and running faster every lap. Not scared witless. Not even thinking. And the best part of it, I could´ve run so much longer. I simply stopped once I realized what I´d been doing.
God I´m such a pussy sometimes. I mean, this is no superhuman feat: Here´s my bragging about a six, seven-mile run when old people will run ten or more with ease. Coming to think of it, I think I´ve been treating my patelae like other people treat their religion: Like an imaginary friend, you know? There´s absolutely nothing there but you just press on with the dogmatic faith, buddy, because some jackass in white told you to.
Ah the last days of vacations. I´m due back to the office in a few days but until that happens, to hell with it, really. I´m here on the grass under this scorching sun and I have nowhere to go, and nothing to do, and no one to see – and hey, come next Monday, I´ll come back to the park in the evening after work, and then I´ll see how long I can take before my knees fall down.
Silence reigns supreme on the lawn except for a jetliner crisscrossing above every fifteen minutes or so, and the perpetual droning of the ubiquitous dragonflies swarming about. I take a deep breath and make a point so as not to forget to do that thing with the diaphragm just like that girl who took Yoga taught me a few months back: I inhale and here´s the faint, fresh smell of the recently-mowed grass, clinging to those last traces of last night´s rain, coming in with the air.
I have nowhere else to go, see, and nothing else to do: I was running laps around the lake a few minutes ago, and every time I run, I run scared witless of messing up with my knees (again) so I end up interposing instances of just walking in-between the laps. But this time was different: I found myself in that legendary, nigh-unattainable state of mind halfway between the nihilist and the space cadet, and by the time I realized that, I´d been running for almost an hour, somewhere during that fourth lap around the lake, without stopping for a walk, and running faster every lap. Not scared witless. Not even thinking. And the best part of it, I could´ve run so much longer. I simply stopped once I realized what I´d been doing.
God I´m such a pussy sometimes. I mean, this is no superhuman feat: Here´s my bragging about a six, seven-mile run when old people will run ten or more with ease. Coming to think of it, I think I´ve been treating my patelae like other people treat their religion: Like an imaginary friend, you know? There´s absolutely nothing there but you just press on with the dogmatic faith, buddy, because some jackass in white told you to.
Ah the last days of vacations. I´m due back to the office in a few days but until that happens, to hell with it, really. I´m here on the grass under this scorching sun and I have nowhere to go, and nothing to do, and no one to see – and hey, come next Monday, I´ll come back to the park in the evening after work, and then I´ll see how long I can take before my knees fall down.
posted by 186282mps at 8:53 PM
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