Running is a release for me. Sometimes it is a burden. But when you scrape away the harsh reality of going many miles at a time there is solitude underneath. I am not one to invite friends along with me to run. I got smoked by both Paul Welsh and his wife running in the canyon yesterday. I once even had a very in depth conversation about life and goals and direction with my wife Mollee as she and I ran from the capitol building to the Firehouse on 11th Ave.
Although the road is lonely and at times reclusive, I think that is what I really need. Time to sort out what I need to do and what really needs to be done. Once in a while I will look at my watch and realize how the seconds and the minutes have slipped away and you cannot gather them back up. That is when I begin to run in earnest and pound harder. I am not competing against you or anyone else - just myself and the men in my head. One of them says "Quit being a baby," The other says "what else do you have to do today that is harder than this?" A new guy started to roost yesterday while Chat and I were burning calories and time. He was saying "you can do anything you want for 10 minutes, how bout you cut that mile down to 8 minutes?"
The running, organizing, debating, trashing, moving, rubber burning waltz of the run continues as does the Fat Man in running shoes.
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