Running is slowly moving towards where I would like it to be. Last two runs came close to autopilot: you simply sit back in your economy-class cranium, order a whiskey-sour and enjoy the flight. You turn on the afterburners and your legs do as they are commanded. Very nice.
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This is maybe the time I should consider getting serious about running again. But what would that mean? Isn’t running my very most private joy which I must never sully through the presence of other runners and their inept, unbidden bodies? The place of escape without escaping, an endless inner curve of astroturf?
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Still and all. Perhaps run a few open competitions in the Spring/Summer. Though I’m certain the comp there is going to be ego-shattering like I can’t even imagine. Guys zooming by like they were going for half the distance. For some reason the runners you happen on during free runs along the lake, hill, river, etc. are always bonafide beginner types or motoring along leisurely for whatever good reason.
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Still enjoy the inclines best when you feel your legs go to work and you can see the goal up ahead: climax – rush there. The way the whole system just kind of roars into metabolic overdrive. But I have to say, Lucerne is atrocious for running: too many too steep in-&declines, too many people who are gifted with 0 situational awareness [had to shoulder-check twice yesterday, though that was rather invigorating], too many spots where you cannot avoid crossing streets. I get this anti-runner town vibe sometimes like the place was built specifically for pedestrians in every sense of the word. I’m afraid.
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Luckily weather is on the thaw. Ha! Hahaha! Hard to imagine that I was chugging through snow just a few weeks ago, twisting my ankle even, moronic me. I then switched into B.A.R. mode, bum ankle running, with hideous mental images of twisting the sore, tender fucker again. Ankle-twisting is such exquisite ugliness, no? Anyhoo, now in early Feb it’s close to shorts-clime again, thank you very much helio-centric rotation! And even though two-faced January is over, I still find myself instinctively looking back over my shoulder, again&again&again, fearful of that unforgivably, sleepy, dimwitted numbnut of an automobilist suddenly plunged into microsleep.
Can I blame me?