Saturday, September 26, 2009

Death By Stereo

It's the big uggh today... though not a bad place to have it. Life has afforded little chance to run. Early mornings, late evenings. And worst of all ... I don't want to. Why? Perhaps because the weather has turned. In fact, that may be a big part of it. When it's hot, and I just can't sleep any long at 5 in the morning, well. Let's go!

When it's cool, however, and you were up until 12 midnight folding laundry, drinking bouron and watching Glee on Hulu, and there's a warm body next to yours who also indluges in the snooze bar. Well. Let's not.

Wednesday night, I couldn't sleep, fretting over the CPAC grant, and Friday night I was up late completeing the thing. Waking at five yesterday all I could think was that, before I had the chance to sleep again, I would need to ride through a long day, pack the car and drive four hours to Athens.

But at least then I would be in Athens. And here I am.

The woke woke me long before I chose because he wanted comapny on the front porch. Morning, coffee, front porch, and heavy rain. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Distance: 4.25 miles
Weather 65ยบ and damp


Pefect run by the Hocking. Cool and cloudy and student-free. I don't know where they all were, 4 pm is pretty late to be in bed with a hangover but I was running past Sotuh Green.

I always run past South Green. In my mind, I am always running past South Green.

I feel the slackening as days go by without a run. I see it. In my belly, my thighs, I can feel my butt just drop. I look in the mirror and appear puffy and old. The pants stop fitting properly - and fast.

Everything in its right place.

Chunk Style Playlist
World In My Eyes - Depeche Mode
Pump Up The Volume - M/A/R/R/S
Smooth Criminal - Michael Jackson
Doin Da Butt - Gap Band
Don't Wanna Fall In Love - Jane Child
I Wanna Be a Flintstone - Screaming Blue Messiahs
Higher Ground - Red Hot Chili Peppers
Good Times * - INXS & Jimmy Barnes
House of the Rising Sun - Tracy Chapman
End Of The Line * - Traveling Wilburys

Post-run outdoor shower, last of the season (well, until tomorrow.) Dr. Bronner's, steam whips up, pagan thoughts. Ran into someone from school I hadn't seen inwell, since then. Going on eightteen years. Said he remembered I was quite a player. A Player? Moi? But I spent so much time - my entire life - cultivating a sense of neurotic detachment. I just wanted love and acceptance, it wasn't some kind of hustle, that wasn't me ... was it?

See: "Cultivate." Poor me. Charlie Brown. Introspective. So sexy. Player.

Sorry, my mind is everywhere today. Everywhere and nowhere ... there's a dog here, there's always a dog here, usually more than one. I get serious sinus pain, leads to migraines. I have been fighting this all day. The run helped, big time. And it put me into this place of self-examination ... I mean, it usually does, Jesus, just hit the "Athens" label at the bottom of this entry.

I began smoking (if you do not count the sasfrass leaves we dried and crumbled into rolling papers in fifth grade - that put off real ciagrettes for five years) when I was fifteen. One cigarette a day, on average, for three years. When I left for college, that increased to five a day (on average) until I was almost 33. I was never a chain smoker, but I know there were pack a day periods in school, when I was cartooning.

But let's say, to low-ball it, that's over 30,000 cigarettes. How many days did that strip from my life? If I do not develop some kind of tobacco-related cancer, how much strain did that put on my system, how many days lost? My grandfather lived to be 94. Do I get that? 80 years? 70? Does my running make any difference? Do I get to put days back onto the calendar that I destroyed by inhaling smoke?

There's a more poetic way to put that, I am sure there is. On our way out of town last month, Eva invited Kelly and I for brunch at her place in Brooklyn. We talked about many things, including this play. I made mention of the nytheatre review, where Denton says he does not get why I am running, it's not clear. I mentioned the cigarette thing. Eva thought I should put that in, that that might od the trick.

1 comment:

Bubble said...

I had a thought about re-framing the play, actually, so that the end with your daughter makes more sense too.

Begin the play with Calvin, and the self-decline, and the running-- frame the running in terms of saving you and letting you stay alive so you could have The Girl and so you could father her properly.

Then, through flashback, "realize" that running has been a constant, a thread that connects these many periods of your life. But make it begin and end as about giving you life. And your renewed desire to quit smoking and become healthier-- in part so you could have more children.

Just a thought.