As a result of my sedentary lifestyle for the last few weeks, within the first we steps, I was generating lung butter to beat the band. Seeing as how I was doing an out-and-back type of run, I figured I could mark my trail with the chunks.
Along the way, I saw no people, heard no motors, and only saw birds. During the many times I stopped, the silence was profound, once you eliminated my laborious breathing.
My return route was punctuated with my constant mantra of "Follow The Yellow Phlegm Road" as I watched for my markers, and footprints.
Yes - always
Um, yes, but I tried not to look, I swear!
Have you ever done her yoga class? 'Nuff said.
If that's the way the trail goes
Pop & Whoosh
There I was, sitting in a Starbucks with my homies, Motivation, Annual Goal Attainment, and Nascent Existentialist Depression. I was slamming my second (or was it my third?) venti Komodo and working; I can't exactly say what the rest were doing, but they were there with me. Probably eating coffee cake.
Anyway, there we were, and in walks Soul-Crushing Reality.He's a big, ugly brute. Not someone you'd want to meet under any circumstances, let alone working a weekend, two thousand miles from home. He didn't say a word: just glared at me. Motivation saw the look, my reaction, and - as they would have said 40 years ago - split the scene.
Now's the time for a little physics lesson. As something evacuates a space, the air surrounding it collapses to fill the newly created void - the normal process of actualizing a pressure differential. This typically goes unnoticed, except on a large, slow scale, where wind is created or a smaller (yet still large) scale, where lightning rips the atmosphere and the air returning is heard as thunder.
On a small scale, if something evacuates fast enough, the air replacement can be heard as a popping sound. My buddy Motivation disappeared so fast, the pop was plainly audible.
Annual Goal Attainment was quietly picking his nose and examining the results when he heard the pop. He looked up and saw the door swinging shut behind Motivation. "Hey... hey! Wait for me!" and with an audible whoosh, Annual Goal Attainment was likewise gone, leaving me only with Nascent Existential Depression for company. Swell.
I was hoping that getting out again would revitalize my motivation and bring the guys back. The jury's still out on that. If I had turned around at the point when I felt great, and finished strong, I might have had done so. Unfortunately, that point came at around 25% of the total distance. Should have listened. Motivation and mood dissipated as distance increased – lung-butter fun notwithstanding. I walked the last 40% of the journey. That, my friends, is demotivating.