January 17, 2013

  • I'm writing drafts of a letter to Jane Austen and I can't get it quite right. Perhaps it's because I don't know exactly what I want from her. I'll just keep writing until I figure it out.
    The staring is getting worse. The other day, he circled behind me and stared at me while walking away. What is that? I mean, seriously? I know I stare too, but at least I do it from a distance. I do not get up close and personal with my obsession. Keep your distance, I'll keep mine and then we can keep pretending that we are in love. Oh, what's that? It's just me? Well, that's no surprise.
    It's really easy for me to forget about things that once mattered to me. It might take a few days, but eventually I just stop caring. I think it's my compartmentalization and I think I may have almost perfected the technique. I can think about that night two weeks ago and I do not even remember the regret. In fact, I'm glad it happened. But I'm tired of the relationship just limping along. Just kill it. Let it die. I hate the tediousness of everything. I'd rather continue my unadulterated fantasy in my head than deal with a real person. With that being said, I recognize that this may be a problem. I choose to ignore it.
    For some reason, running has become harder lately. This week in particular has been difficult. I feel tired quicker and my legs and arms are just sore all the time. It may have something to do with the yoga class I took on Monday, but that should have worn off yesterday. I just want to run for an hour and not feel like a noodle  at the four mile mark. I've been eating plenty and I took a three hour nap yesterday. I don't know what it could be. I have goals. I can't reach them if I can't practice now. Hopefully, my run today will be the turning point.
    The people that come to the gym with me only run for a half an hour - just for cardio. Not for enjoyment, not for meditation, not for training. It's about how many calories burned and how long they feel like going for. Not like me. I run to clear my head and to get my legs moving. I run to feel like I'm floating and to lengthen my endurance. And I always find that running has a strange peacefulness about it, despite the high intensity of the exercise. I feel like humans are built to run. Why did we ever stop? We shouldn't have forgotten what it's like to have to do physical labor to stay alive. And it's pathetic that we had to create places to do exercises because most of us sit around all day, myself included. I'd like an active job, but the closest I can get to that with my degree is a treadmill desk, which are very expensive.
    But, I digress.
    I just want someone to run with. That's all. 

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